by Anne Coates
“So it’s beginning …”
“What’s beginning, Hannah?”
“The cull.”
“The cull? What on earth do you mean?”
Hannah sniffed and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Claudia. I can’t tell you at the moment. There’s something I must do first and then, I promise you, you’ll know everything.”
“Are you aware I could have you in for questioning, for withholding evidence?”
“Why would you want to do that?” Hannah looked perplexed. “You’ll have everything in a couple of hours. Just give me that. Please Claudia.”
Hannah had phoned ahead and Rory had a vacant office ready for her. “Right what can I do to help?”
“I need to make some photocopies and have them couriered to certain people.”
“No problem.” He walked her to the photocopying machine.
“I know this sounds daft, but would you mind standing here with me until it’s done.”
Rory had not commented on Hannah’s distraught appearance. He knew now he’d been right about that thread of steel which ran through her. Hannah collected the copies and followed Rory to the office. Hannah had made six copies, three of which she placed in envelopes, within envelopes writing a brief note to the recipient not to open unless instructed to – or if anything happened to her. The three other copies she put into her bag. One was for DI Turner. The other for Simon Ryan. He, if anyone, would know what to do with the information.
Rory had booked the couriers who had arrived at reception. Hannah went with Rory to despatch her envelopes. She wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Each envelope had to be signed for by the recipient. Hannah then returned to the office, logged on to the computer and began writing.
Two hours later she was more or less satisfied with her work and printed it out. Three times. She gave one copy sealed in an envelope to Rory, asking him not to read it – yet. “It will probably be spiked anyway,” she said in an attempt at humour. One copy she would give to Simon Ryan in person. The other she’d keep.
“Right, I need to get to St Thomas’s Hospital now. I promised I’d visit Patrick Ryan.”
“Do you think you’re up to it Hannah? You look exhausted.”
She smiled sadly. “It’ll all soon be over.”
“Okay I’ll get you a car.
“Thanks Rory. For your support – everything.” Hannah looked as though she was about to burst into tears. Instead she stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
The car got her to St Thomas’s in record time. She took the lift to Patrick’s floor then stopped short. Outside his room was a large group of people, some in hospital uniform, some police and there was Simon Ryan looking the picture of fury.
“My brother is dead due to your ineptitude. How dare you say…”
What he was about to reveal was lost as everyone turned to the sound of Hannah collapsing in a spectacular faint.
She came round to find herself sitting on a chair with a nurse either side.
Simon Ryan knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry Hannah – I never intended for you to hear like that.” He held her hand. “We need to talk but not now. I have to stay here for a while. You go home and I’ll call you.” His face bore the signs of grief as well as rage.
“But how? How did he die? I thought he was getting better.”
“He was. Look, I’ll call you as soon as I can. But please be on your guard.”
“Take this.” Hannah handed him the envelope. “Please keep it safe.”
A nurse, having made sure she was ok standing, escorted her out of the building.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. Will you be okay getting home?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ll get a cab. Thank you.”
FORTY-ONE
“Do I look like someone who cares?”
A sniff followed a hiccough. “No I suppose not. But I thought…”
“Just what did you ‘think’, Judy? I’ve noticed how petty and nasty you’ve been towards Hannah.”
“But…” Judy didn’t finish her justification when she saw the editor’s raised eyebrow.
“You may not like it, Judy, but Hannah brings in a fresh perspective. She may not always get it right but she writes from the heart which is something you’d do well to emulate.”
Judy opened and closed her mouth.
“For God’s sake get a grip. Okay so you’ve made a fool of yourself with some man. It’s not the first time…”
“But it’s more than that. Honestly George–” she only just remembered to stretch the name – “ina, I didn’t know he’d been involved with Hannah. And I certainly didn’t know that he was being manipulated by some sort of syndicate he owed money to.” Judy blew her nose. “This is serious. I’m shit scared.”
“For whom? Yourself?”
“Yes of course but for Paul and Hannah too. And the child.” Judy paused. “These are seriously nasty people. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want.”
“And what do they want, in your considered opinion?”
The irony wasn’t lost on Judy but she hadn’t thought George would be such a cow towards her. They had worked together a long time. That had to count for something.
“I believe they think Hannah has in her possession information about the trafficking of young girls from the Somalian base where Liz Rayman was working. Apparently Liz worked out what was happening and documented the evidence. These people are convinced she passed this information on or at least brought it back with her from Somalia with the intention of exposing the perpetrators.”
“Hence her murder?”
Judy nodded. She was feeling sicker by the moment.
“And you believe Hannah herself is at risk?”
“I know she is. But I’m not sure how much she knows or even if she has a clue about what is happening.”
“I see.” The editor pressed a number on her phone and barked a command to her secretary. The legal team and senior editoral staff would be joining them within minutes.
“You don’t give Hannah credit for much, do you Judy? Judging by her past experiences and what Rory has hinted at, she is far more aware than you think. But that, sadly probably makes her far more vulnerable. Time to call in the big boys.”
Judy had no idea to what she was referring but took this as her dismissal and stood up.
“No stay where you are. You can support your claims and then I will have you escorted to a safe place. No phone calls. Nothing – do I make myself clear? Hand over you mobile.”
Judy looked about to protest then thought better of it. She rummaged in her bag and placed the mobile on the desk. She looked about to burst into tears again.
“Oh for heaven’s sake stop grizzling woman. At least you may have saved your job by coming to see me now.”
Judy swallowed the bile which rose in her throat. Paul bloody Montague had a lot to answer for.
Paul Montague banged on the door. His face bore a look of grim determination. As soon as Janet opened the door slightly he pushed his way in almost knocking her over in the process.
“Where’s Hannah?”
Janet folded her arms and stood blocking the stairs. “She’s not here at the moment but she’ll be back soon. Please leave. You can wait in your car.”
“I’m not waiting anywhere. Where’s Elizabeth?”
Janet stood her ground. “She’s sleeping.”
“Get her.” Janet didn’t move but her face betrayed her fear. “Now!”
Paul stared at her. “I haven’t got time for this.” He pushed Janet aside and raced up the stairs. Janet could hear him going into Elizabeth’s room and the murmur of his voice. Then he was back cradling Elizabeth in his arms awkwardly. “Where’s her car seat?”
Janet had moved to the front door barring his exit. “For God’s sake woman get out of my way.” He placed Elizabeth on the floor and yanked Janet aside. She kicked him in the shins but to no avail. He had the door open and he ha
d Elizabeth.
Janet could feel her blood draining from her. Whatever she did might hurt Elizabeth. The child was suspiciously quiet and looked at her with startled eyes. Suddenly she wailed. The sound galvanised her into action but Paul was too quick for her. “Mama” was the last word she heard.
The phone range three times, as arranged. One minute pause and then the phone was answered on the first ring.
“Target not at location.”
“Abort mission.”
“Too late.”
The man in the grey suit. Dialled another number. “Where the fuck is target? Find and eliminate.”
FORTY-TWO
Hannah gazed out of the taxi window. Unfamiliar streets passed by – too fast for her to catch the place names.
“Excuse me,” she tapped on the glass dividing the driver from his pasengers.
He slide back the glass and at the same time she heard the click of the door locks and saw the red light indicating them.
“Yes miss?”
“I was just wondering which route you are taking. We seem to be taking a long time…”
“Just following instructions. Won’t be long now.”
“Instructons? Whose intructions? I don’t understand.” An icy grip of fear enveloped her body as the driver closed the connecting window with a resounding thud. Do they lock them, she wondered? She pulled out her mobile phone. No signal. Just what she needed. She stared at the license plate committing the number to memory. 74829. Don’t panic, she told herself but already the early evening darkness was complete and she had absolutely no idea where she was or where she was heading. She tried to breathe deeply to exhale her fear so she could think what to do.
She’d hailed the taxi in front of the hospital so how could the driver be “following instructions”? It didn’t make sense.
Who knew she’d be there at that precise time? Only someone who was watching her movements. She felt the bile rise in her throat.
She leaned forward and hammered on the glass partition. The driver didn’t even look round but she saw him glance up at the rear view mirror. His eyes revealed nothing. He was safe in his driver’s seat and she was trapped.
The red locked lights glared at her. Don’t waste your energy she thought. Save it. Think.
But no solutions presented themselves. Her mind was full of terrible visions and thoughts of what might happen to her. She could feel her pulse racing and her arms felt weak from the rush of adreneline. Elizabeth. Oh God Elizabeth. Don’t cry. Don’t show any weakness. But she felt as feeble as a baby. Her hands were clammy, she tasted the acidic bile which filled her mouth and wanted to spit it out. Eventually she found some tissues and retched into them. It didn’t bring any relief.
Her whole body was frozen in time and space but she could feel a trickle of sweat make its way from her armpits. Her sweat must give out the scent of her distress. Hormones. There was nothing she could do except wait to see where they arrived. No that would be too late. She thought of Elizabeth. She had to be proactive not accept her fate whatever it was.
She moved as though to stand up, making sure the driver looked at her then collapsed onto the floor of the cab and flayed around. Her body jerked and spittle escaped from her mouth.
The taxi pulled up abruptly and she slid across the floor. The driver opened the door. She was ready for him. “Fucking hell.”
With a strength that she dredged up from the core of her being, Hannah lurched towards him and aimed a kick at his crotch, catching him completely off guard. “You bitch,” he yelled as she swiped him round the head with her bag and every ounce of energy she could muster. He reeled backwards onto the pavement, curling up into a ball. She gave him another kick for good measure and then ran back in the direction they had come from hoping with every particle of her being that he wouldn’t follow her.
The blood pounded in her ears. She could hardly breathe. Her lungs were burning but her legs kept moving. Finally she came to a corner and checked the street name. She was in Concord Close. She scrabbled in her bag for her mobile phone. She had some signal… Three nines.
“Which service do you require caller?”
“Police…” There was a short pause.
“Hello caller where are you?
“Concord Close E15. My name is Hannah Weybridge and I need to get a message to DI Turner. I was abducted by a man driving a taxi cab … he…”
“Hold on Ms Weybridge… There’s a police car in your vicinity. Stay where you are. They’ll pick you up within two minutes.”
Hannah leaned back against the wall and sobbed in relief. She heard the distant wail of a siren which grew louder. The car went straight past her but had slowed down enough to catch her frantic wave and reversed.
“Hannah Weybridge?”
She nodded before her legs buckled and she fell into the arms of the officer. “You’re OK now.” He guided her towards the car and lowered her into the back seat. “Put your head between your knees and take slow breaths.”
She did as she was told and gradually her head stopped swimming.
“Do you need medical attention?” She shook her head. “Right we’ll get you home then.”
“The license number. The taxi driver’s license number was 74829.”
The officer smiled. “Blimey well done.” He relayed the information over the radio along with the name of the road the taxi had been travelling down.
Meanwhile the driver put the car into gear and did a u-turn. “Okay let’s get you back to East Dulwich.”
“How do you know where to take me?”
“There was an alert put out for you, Miss.”
“Really?” Waves of relief cascaded over her. She closed her eyes. “DI Turner?”
“She’s gone straight to your address.”
“Thank God,” Hannah breathed deeply and remembered nothing more of the journey home.
The police car pulled up at the corner of her street which was cordoned off with police tape. As she got out she was aware of people huddled together. An gaseous stench filled the air. Somewhere a dog barked. Beyond the tape Hannah could make out a fire engine and an ambulance. They both seemed to be parked outside her house.
Her pulse pounded so hard in her ears she could hear nothing else. Her legs refused to move. Then she could hear screaming. A high pitched wail that went on and on. Would it never stop?
The slap across her face echoed in the street. “Hannah it’s okay. Hannah listen to me.”
The cordon was lifted and she was led, half carried by Claudia Turner.
Coming towards her was Paul Montague, one arm around Janet, the other holding her child. Elizabeth. Their child. She felt her knees give way as a paramedic leaped forward to guide her to a chair and handed her a cup of water.
“Hannah I’m so sorry, I…” Paul had no chance to continue.
“Give me my child. Now.”
Paul placed Elizabeth into her arms as Hannah wept. “I’m so so sorry my darling,” she whispered. Miraculously, Elizabeth just smiled up at her. Hannah was conscious that Janet was hovering nearby. She looked like an extra from a horror film. Her hair was all over the place. Dirt on her face. A long rip in her jeans.
“Janet are you okay? What on earth happened?”
“Hannah I tried to stop him – I really did – but he saved our lives.” She looked terrified. “We’re both okay just a couple of bumps and bruises.”
“I’m so sorry, Janet. I…”
A police officer interrupted her. “We’ll take you home now Miss and you can make your statement.”
Janet leaned forward and hugged Hannah and Elizabeth. “I’ve got the mobile,” she whispered. “Call me on that.”
Hannah wondered how the phone had managed to escape damage but just nodded. There was too much to take in. As Janet was led away, she realised that Paul was being read his rights and was wearing handcuffs.
“Paul?”
He turned to her and shrugged. “I’m sorry Hannah. I really
am.”
DI Turner was beside her. “Claudia what is going on?”
“Long story, Hannah. And I think you know most of it. Except Paul’s part in all this.”
“But what has he done? Janet just said he got them out of the house – just in time.”
“We’ll know more once he’s been interviewed, Hannah, but believe me he’s mixed up in this mess.”
Hannah was aware of movement around her. The position of the cordon had been moved and some people were returning to their homes. Even the houses either side of hers were now okay.
The chief fire officer approached them. “It was a small explosion Inspector. Some minor damage. I’ll get a full report to you asap.”
Claudia nodded and turned to Hannah. “Right. Let’s get you somewhere safe for the night.” She took a call on her radio phone. “Yes sir,” she concluded.
“Your fairy godfather has contacted the Commissioner. No expense spared for your temporary accommodation.” Hannah didn’t understand. She clutched Elizabeth to her. The child was alseep as though nothing untoward had happened.
“I’ll be informed of the venue within about twenty minutes. Why don’t we sit in my car, then we’ll be ready to go.”
“Can I collect some things from my home?”
“No but don’t worry we’ve been instructed to get you anything you need.”
Once they were ensconced in the car, Hannah tried to make some sense of what had happened. “Claudia I don’t understand. What happened?”
Claudia studied her for a moment as if judging how much to reveal. “It seems a letter bomb of some description was delivered to you home. In a jiffy bag. It would seem that Paul Montague found out about it and came over to warn you. Only just in time. It didn’t detonate properly so the damage isn’t too bad. Either someone wanted to scare the hell out of you or put an end to your enquiries.”
Liz. Jacob Gurnstein. Sam Lockward. Patrick. All dead. And she would have been too.
Hannah leaned forward to fish out the papers from her handbag. “This is what I said I would let you have, Claudia.” Claudia glanced at the envelope and put is safely in her brief case.
