After the gunfire there was a brief silence and the two armed police in the doorway dropped out and approached Spencer’s awkwardly felled body machine gun barrels to the fore, fingers twitching.
David watched from the window as they kicked the weapon away and one officer felt the pulse on Spencer’s bloodied neck. He was still. McKie turned and exited the train on the platform side; passengers were being let through without checks and taken through the cordon to waiting coaches. As he walked back to the barrier McKie’s peripheral vision registered one handler and one dog entering the train.
“You shouldn’t have got on the train!” The detective was annoyed.
“What?”
“Not until we’d checked for booby traps.”
David pulled his badge. “Read that. I’m government.” He pulled back his jacket showing the SIG 220 in its shoulder holster. “See that I walk around this country armed. I go where I want. You’re supporting me.” McKie turned to Beaumont. “We’d better call in.”
“I’ll do it David.” Beaumont turned to the detective. "Sorry my friend’s wound up, but there are three more of these men out there and one of ours is missing presumed dead.”
“Then it looks like it’s one all I’d say.” The detective said flippantly.
McKie heard and turned around. “You think you’re funny?”
The detective blanched and swallowed.
“There are three more like this one and as far as you know that corpse on the track may have notched up other bodies. Now you times that by four because they’re all like this one. I watched him die, but he died trying to kill and escape, against all odds. That’s not natural.”
“Alright.”
“Somewhere out there three more men, who arrived this morning, are armed and ready to murder one person in this country and they’re prepared to kill innocent people and risk death to get to that person. That’s the job we’re on now friend. Pray it’s not anyone you know they come across and need to get out of the way or at least pray our people find them first.”
McKie turned and stared at the train, a movement up the platform had caught his eye. The dog handler emerged from a door on the next carriage up. The dog was excited, barking wildly and it seemed to be leading him down the slope of the platform and away down the track, south.
For a second the handler looked up and his and David’s eyes met. David registered dark blue, almost black eyes, black hair under the cap and a wiry goatee beard and moustache, then the man was gone at a run up the track the dog barking wildly, seemingly distraught. David thought he the saw a gun small chunky, almost invisible in the large hand.
David stared, his senses suddenly alert. Custom gave you pure focus when it came to body language. The shoulder’s were stooped, the cap down, too much shadow. Something from the Inverness ticket footage of Spencer was struggling to make itself known; he frowned and squinted as the figure seemed to disappear up the darkened track. What else bothered him? Yes! There had been a handgun, but it wasn’t a regulation police model. David began striding as quickly as he could along the train up the platform, he heard the dog barking, then there was a pained canine shriek and then there was silence. He stood at the end of the platform staring. Back down the platform there was a shout for help from inside the train.
A voice called “Someone’s killed Mickey and his dog’s gone.”
McKie pulled his hand gun from the holster and faced out into the dark. He called out.
“Up here!”
Seeing him at the end of the platform the detective and two armed men ran to his side.
“A man dressed as a dog handler went up the track… there was a howl and the dog stopped barking.”
They all stared into the darkness.
“I thought we got your man. Who was that?”
“I don’t know, but he’s killed you dog handler right?”
“How did he get the dog to go after he killed his handler” was all the detective could say “they live together. They’re practically psychically linked.”
The detective looked back to the train. A body in white underwear was being lifted off the train.” An officer joined him running to his side.
“Mickey’s dead, shot through the heart and we found this.” He held up a needle.
“He gave the dog a shot of something, LSD or some such. It’s a historically documented way of dealing with watch dogs, not just drugging to sleep, but sending crazy, making them a nuisance not a help, buggering up their senses.” McKie spoke quietly not taking his eyes of the darkness in front of him.
“What kind of psycho would do that?”
“A well trained one and one who came equipped for just such an eventuality.”
“My god and there are three more out there.”
“We’d better get some lights and search that track. You better get a helicopter or two searching this area.”
Beaumont was suddenly by his side.
“What’s going on?”
“It could just be a coincidence, but I don’t believe in them. There was a second one on the train.”
Beaumont looked down the track and back at the train.
“Let’s leave the police to sort this out. The press will be here soon, TV included and we don’t want to be seen. There’s a guy called John McFarlane, he’s DIC Perth for the area round here. Jack gave me his number. I called. He’s just four streets from here. Let’s get our bags and go.”
David stared down the track.
“David!”
“Sorry. There’s a dead dog on that track down there.”
“Okay. Put the gun away.”
“Artillery and ships have guns, this is a pistol.”
“What?”
“It’s what you’re told by an army dad when you were playing soldiers.”
“I see. I need a drink.”
Overhead two helicopters chattered onto the scene, hovering, one with a spotlight, the other using thermal imaging. Armed police moved forward, more dogs arrived and torches slashed at the darkness.
Back up the platform McKie and Beaumont passed the two covered corpses.
Half a mile away, having crossed South Inch Park at a sprint, Stanton squatted by the river, his pistol wrapped in a plastic bag, he waded in and swam down river towards the motorway, a map of the town in his head. His target was the M90 motorway to hitch lift.
TV crews and journalists flooded the town centre as Beaumont knocked on a black door on Wilson Street. It had been a short walk for the two DIC men, but David, couldn’t keep his hand from dipping into his jacket; every shadow and recess held the unnerving spectre of the second assassin.
When John McFarlane finally shuffled to the door, his Scottie dog barking shrilly, McKie couldn’t help but imagine the door being answered by the escaped hired killer. Beaumont showed his badge. John let them in. He bolted the door and put the chain on.
He looked into their tired faces and David’s ‘jungle ready’ eyes.
“You two look like you need a whisky. Have a seat.” He waved them into the lounge. BBC 24 was on the screen and straight away they saw the scene they had just left.
Chapter 39
London
Hampstead
Midnight
A tangle of bed ruffled long blonde hair spilled out across the top of a thick plush purple duvet cover. As the phone rang Sternway’s head surfaced from the undulating silk waves and the blonde hair sank beneath them with a groan.
“Yes.”
Stella curled up foetal dreading the not unknown night phone calls. Sternway listened to the voice on the line, put the phone down, unfolded himself from the bed and donning dressing gown and slippers descended first to his kitchen, putting the kettle on, and second to his lounge, flicking the television on with the remote. He flipped through the sky guide with practised ease and found his way to BBC News 24.
Having made a cup of tea he sat down on the mahogany brown leather sofa, put his feet up on the pouf and took reflective s
ip of tea. It was just after midnight.
On the screen he watched the unfolding drama of the post shooting scene at Perth.
“What exactly are the authorities saying Tom.”
The journalist, outside the station, flashing blue lights behind him, drizzle sparkling in the haze, paused to hear the satellite delayed question.
“It seems that there was an organised trap for as yet unknown assailants on the train. The train was stopped and armed police were waiting. The train was being emptied when it seems one of the wanted men got onto the track and there was a shoot out with police. He was killed by the police. His partner it seems was hidden on the train and killed a dog handler; the dog was drugged and the second man, disguised as the dog handler, fled up the platform, shooting the dog just out of sight of the station. Police helicopters have been searching over head and the police are checking the river, which is just over that way the other side of South Inch Park.”
“Was anyone else hurt Tom.”
“It seems not. The passengers have been taken on in coaches and Scotrail staff members are now at a nearby hotel waiting to be interviewed.”
“Is there any indication of who these men were?”
“Not yet, but we are expecting a statement from the chief constable sometime soon.”
The view returned to the studio with the insert of the scene top right.
“Tom Harris there at the scene of a police shooting Perth Railway Station and other breaking news tonight is that of a double murder at the Mersey marina. Police called there apparently by security services found two bodies, one of them is thought to be the night watchman.”
Sternway turned off the TV. He picked up the phone. Thirty metres away in the next door garden an uncomfortable DIC operative listened carefully, glancing around nervously, the gun mike signal coming and going. They couldn’t tap Sternway’s phone for sure.
“Do you know who was shot Joe?”
“Our reports say it was Marco Spencer.”
“That’s embarrassing one of our ex operatives.”
“Yes.”
“What about this Marina business?”
“It looks like a DIC operative has been murdered.”
“These men are leaving a lot of bodies behind.”
“Yes sir.”
“Still DIC look like they’re being put to the test and I can’t say that makes me unhappy.”
“No sir.”
“Okay I’ll see you first thing and you can brief me properly.”
In the bushes the cold and hungry DIC operative sighed heavily. It was teasingly close to Sternway showing knowledge, but vague enough for it to be a natural interest on Sternway’s part in terrorist activities in the UK.
Chapter 40
Liverpool
Midnight
In Wally’s living room there was uncomfortable silence. Tony was in the loft sending and receiving transmissions. Down in the lounge Ginny, red eyed and exhausted was hugging a weeping and sobbing Tara. Jaz was outside in the garden smoking a cigarette with Ginny’s father, who had been called over for moral support. In the kitchen Shadz was making tea with Ginny’s mother.
“You look a bit fit to be a smoker if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Jaz gave him a weak smile and said “I gave up ages ago. It’s been a shock tonight.”
“I can imagine. I didn’t know he did this kind of work.”
“You’re not meant to.”
“Ginny knew he did this then?”
“Yes, but partners and spouses sign the act too, though they don’t know exactly who their partners are working for, it’s very secret.”
“Does your partner know what you do?”
“Yes she does.”
“Oh sorry.”
“No need to be unless you had plans.”
Ginny’s father flushed and stuttered. “I didn’t mean… you know.”
Jaz put her hand on his arm.
“It doesn’t matter.” She said quietly.
“He was a lovely fella. I can’t imagine him doing this kind of work. Who exactly are you people?”
“I can’t say.”
“Oh… will you get this bastard then?”
“Oh yes… we bloody well will I can tell you.”
“Tea up Jaz, Mr Mayhew.”
“Cheers. You’re a scouser Terry…”
Jaz went in. Tara’s sobbing had subsided. Tony was in the door way, he stood beside Jaz and Shadz joined them.
“We’re leaving Terry here on guard; he’s got family in the city.
Ginny’s mother had sat down beside them. Tony moved into a space in the room in front of them and steeled himself.
“Ginny. We have got to go. We’re going to get on the trail of this man, Cobb. Terry has offered to stay.”
Ginny had been through the anger with them, the shouting, the blaming them, blaming the people Wally worked for.
“Will you take that gun away please, the one in the cabinet in the loft?”
“Yes.”
“Id like Terry to stay, I don’t feel safe, even though I know he isn’t after us.”
“Okay.”
“Wally knew your boss well didn’t he?”
“Yes they worked a big case about twenty years ago. Jack will come up here personally I’m sure.”
“Will you kill this man?”
“We’ll try not to, though it looks like Cobb and the others that came in with him are death or glory types, especially after what’s happened at Perth. I’d rather he was put on trial, along with the people who hired him, that can only happen if we catch him alive.”
“What happened at Perth?”
“There was another shoot out, one dead assailant one dead police man and his dog.”
“It’s awful.”
“What Wally was doing was a part of all this. We have to stop these men before they do whatever it is that they think killing innocent people is worth the price of.”
With that they said their goodbyes. Tony took a last look at Ginny and Tara. He fixed in his mind the image of Wally’s corpse and their faces. It would determine him, harden him to the task. He carried them grief before him as a warning and a torch to light his way in what was becoming a very dark journey.
Chapter 41
Perth Scotland
Midnight
“Right the one at the Marina is Cobb.”
“Right.”
“Spencer was the dead one on the track.”
“Right.”
“Wheeler was the one who escaped the hospital.”
“Right.”
“That leaves Mason to be the one on the train.”
“Right.”
“A booking was made in the name of Townshend weeks ago, but Spencer was in that sleeper.”
“Right.”
“Except Mason didn’t show up on the CCTV for Inverness and evidence from CCTV linked to a stolen white Alfa shows someone like Mason on the industrial estate where it was taken.”
“Right.”
“Which means there’s a fifth man.”
“Dewey missed one then.” Beaumont said finally.
David nodded.
“Let’s tap into the CCTV footage of Inverness. You know before we left London I was looking at Spencer on the screen and something bugged me about the man at the next cashier. It was the same thing that bugged me on the platform.”
They pulled up the CCTV footage.
“Trains, planes and automobiles.”
“What?”
“Well, one bike, one boat, one train, one flight which leaves walking.”
“Or hitching.”
“Right.” David ran the footage and froze it on Stanton. It was hard to see his face clearly, but for a second McKie caught a glimpse at one eye. He ran the footage on and there was a look of recognition from Spencer as the fifth man passed.
“Spencer knew this guy. They could have met on the train. We’ll arrange interviews with restaurant staff and have the gir
l at Inverness who served him interviewed too.”
McFarlane had been sat in silence quietly stroking his dog. Too old for the duty rota he spent time knowing his city and the people in it.
“Your man has probably gone down river. He’ll head for the motorway and hitch. If you pull up the map I’ll show you where it joins.”
“Good John. That’s a thought.”
“He’ll kill the driver of course.” Beaumont added gloomily.
“Why?”
“No witness.”
“That could mean he killed the driver who took him to Inverness. Jack said to check missing persons.”
McFarlane pulled up the map on the laptop. The M90 was clear as a scar on sunburn, threading south.
“Edinburgh or Glasgow?” He asked.
“No idea.” David was stumped.
“I like the idea of Glasgow.”
“Call Jack and have him send a duty team to Edinburgh, we’ll go Glasgow way tomorrow.”
“After we’ve talked to the police and some of the staff. If only we had an image of the fifth man.” Beaumont suddenly brightened. “Couldn’t you try and sketch the face you saw on the platform, the way Dewey did?”
“I can’t draw. I’d know him if I saw him.”
“I can draw. I was a graphic designer. I still do some freelance work. Get that Inverness image up and we’ll add any changes.” McFarlane left the room to get a sketch pad and a portable scanner.
“Okay. The man on the platform had a goatee beard for a start.”
Half an hour later they had the sketch of their fifth man, scanned it in and sent it to Jack at DIC centre. Jack told them they’d have to decrypt the MI6 site again, that could take until sunrise. Fulton agreed they should head for Glasgow. He also suggested that there might be more than five. He added to their knowledge by telling them of Sternway’s conversation, crackly as it was, and that it might implicate him in whatever plot was unfolding. He explained about the police being called to a burning Alfasud on an estate in Glasgow. Mason was probably there too and Wheeler could be holed up there. There was no doubt that Glasgow should be their next stop.
To Kill Or Be Killed Page 10
