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The armed response team had been quizzed by the Internal Investigations Branch, standard procedure in a fatal shooting, and their recollections matched the findings of the crime scene investigators. Now they were all piling into cars and minibuses to return to base.

The doctor, still wearing his white protective overalls and plastic overshoes, strode over to the two senior detectives.

“What a bloodbath. Six suspects, five of whom are dead, and a hostage shot twice. There is some good news, if you can call it that. We only took one of them down. Preliminary analysis suggests that Sonny Holloway was killed by a machine pistol, almost certainly by the suspect who was killed by the firearms squad. Then, it gets confusing. We know that one of the hostages shot the last man but there were two more bodies upstairs. My best guess is that the one on top killed the one underneath before our last man killed him.

If you’re keeping score, we killed one, three were killed by other suspects and the hostage shot one. With one still alive, that’s all six accounted for, gentlemen.” The doctor removed his latex gloves and unzipped his overalls.

“You’ll have the full report tomorrow,” he volunteered as he walked away.

***

DS Scott and DS Fellowes had joined the two senior detectives and were reporting their findings. DS Scott offered to lead, and Fellowes nodded.

“All firearms used in the shootings today have been recovered and bagged. Additionally we discovered a small armoury in a steel lockbox concealed in the paint store. The contents have been logged and removed. There were two blocks of RDX explosives in there, as well. DS Fellowes also had a memorable find.”

DS Scott looked at Fellowes, who took up the story. “Hidden with the spare wheel was a carefully wrapped painting. It has Churchill’s signature on it and is probably the one De Montagu sold to Hickstead. As we suspected, it had been kept in Hickstead’s safety deposit box.

Also concealed in the body panels were necklaces, bracelets, rings, cash in numerous currencies, and a collection of gold Krugerrands in a coin collector’s album. There were at least a hundred in there, and they usually sell for about five hundred pounds each.

Best of all, there’s a holdall in the office packed with fifty pound notes. The bag weighed just over twenty three kilos. A million pounds in fifties weighs twenty two kilos. What’s the betting that the numbers match those given to us by Fisher’s bank?”

Suddenly the weariness lifted from all four men and they smiled. Tomorrow Lord Hickstead would come looking for a deal, fondly imagining he still had the bargaining chip of hostages. That interview would now be much more enjoyable. The four men all shook hands, and Boniface spoke.

“You three go home and get some rest. I’ll call in at the hospital and see if our victims want to see his Lordship squirm tomorrow. I think they deserve that.”

Chapter 80

Highbury Clinic, Blackstock Rd, North London. Sunday, 5:30pm.

I sat on the edge of the bed talking to Dee when she was awake. If we stopped talking, even for a few seconds, her eyelids would flutter and she would be drifting away again. The doctor explained that she would be ‘dopey’ until she had enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

There was a tap on the door.

“Come in,” I shouted, and Dee opened her eyes.

Don Fisher and Lavender came into the room. He was wearing a blue lounge suit like mine, and Lavender was wearing the equivalent in burgundy. Rather inappropriately I thought, if I took a picture of them dressed like that I could blackmail them for a million pounds and get it, no questions asked.

Lavender went to Dee and hugged her, kissing her on the cheek, before running her fingers down the other cheek.

“Oh Dee, your face is all bruised. Is it OK?” Sonny’s fist had indeed left an ever developing bruise that ran from her jaw line to her cheekbone. All hues of yellow, blue and purple were now represented in the swelling.

“It’ll heal quicker than the bullet wounds,” Dee joked weakly.

Lavender came over to me and gave me a hug, too. She hung on for quite a while before Dee reminder her that I was ‘her man’. Lavender kissed me on the lips for devilment.

“Oooh, he’s a good kisser,” she said to Dee, laughing at my blushing face. “I’m Lavender, by the way.”

“I know,” I replied. “I’ve seen your pictures.” The room fell silent. “In the papers,” I added hastily, but too late. “Not the Polaroids. I didn’t look,” I spluttered, digging myself deeper in. “Sorry.”

Lavender, Dee and Fisher laughed out loud.

***

Don Fisher asked if he could speak to Dee privately, and so Lavender and I retired to her room, which was identical to Dee’s but in mirror image. We sat and spoke for a while, and she told me about Dee’s sacrifices on her behalf, which included her pushing Lavender onto the roof of the offices and pretending that she had escaped, even though she knew she would be punished.

The plan had been to make them believe that Lavender had escaped, so they would have been forced to abandon their hideout, leaving Lavender to raise the alarm by calling the police from the phone in the office.

She was in tears as she recounted how Dee had been shot and tortured whilst stubbornly refusing to give Lavender up. After tearfully explaining how Dee had stood in front of her, ready to take a bullet, Lavender said something that touched me. Taking my hands in hers, she began.

“No-one has ever done anything like that for me before. All the time I was thinking to myself, why is she wasting her life for me? She’s so much more valuable than me. I’m just a spoiled child, like people say, and I couldn’t see it until today. I thought we were going to die. Josh, why was she prepared to die for someone she had just met, someone so shallow and selfish like me?”

I had to think for a while, but then I found the words. “I’ve only known Dee for a week and a half, but she entranced me from the beginning. Isn’t there a song called ‘You had me from hello’? Well, that’s how I feel. A person like Dee is rare. If you want my opinion, I don’t think she was protecting the spoiled child in you, I think she was protecting the vulnerable person underneath. She was protecting the person you have become, not the person you were on Friday.”

The tears were flowing freely now, and Lavender squeezed my hand. I hoped that she would find her way in life and be happy. She seemed like a good kid on the whole. She didn’t deserve a shallow celebrity life; she deserved so much more.

Don Fisher came into the room and, for the sake of something to say, he joked.

“I’ve tried to get Dee to see sense, but the drugs are messing with her head and she’s still insistent on marrying you.”

“Can I be a bridesmaid?” Lavender trilled, her eyes widening in expectation.

“You can be the chief bridesmaid,” I replied.

The phone rang and Fisher answered it. He listened for a moment and then explained that we needed to go next door. Inspector Boniface was on his way up.

***

Once he had explained what they had discovered in The Tottenham Press building, Inspector Boniface asked the girls to confirm the sequence of events leading to their eventual rescue. Other than the fact that “Dave the soldier” had given his life to save them, things had unfolded pretty much as the police had surmised.

Having expressed admiration for their courage and resourcefulness, the Inspector explained that Dee and Lavender would each be required to give a formal statement later.

“Now,” he said brightly. “I need to explain what happens next.”

He paused to ensure that we were all paying attention. I could see that he was relishing this next part.

“Lord Hickstead has been kept in sterile conditions all weekend. That is to say, he’s heard nothing of the day’s events, and nor will he. There is a press embargo on the Europol action until a press conference is held tomorrow afternoon, aimed at the evening news programmes.