‘ Thanks,’ he said, and put the cup to his lips, but he was shaking so badly he couldn’t take a drink. His eyes were constantly roving the restaurant — a McDonald’s on the beach in Fort Lauderdale. ‘You sure you’re alone, Joe?’
The other man nodded reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, I’m alone. Now have a drink of that coffee. Go on.’
This time Damian managed to get a mouthful. He looked terrible — thin and gaunt. Several days of stubble on his face. Eyes deeply sunken, bloodshot. Skin grey. Clothing unkempt and beginning to smell.
‘ Where the hell have you been keeping yourself?’ Kovaks asked him gently. ‘You know that cops all over the state are looking for you, don’t you?’
‘ I don’t need reminding,’ Damian said. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. ‘Been sleeping here and there, roaming the streets during the day. Hiding when I see a uniform or cop car. Hardly eatin’, never sleepin’. Got no money left.’
Then it all came flooding back to him. He began to cry, quietly at first, then with big body-raking sobs, drawing the attention of everyone in the place.
‘ Jeez, Joe,’ he said through the tears, ‘I loved her so much. I was in love for the first time in my life. I loved her — I didn’t want her to die. Hell! Hell! Cut up to hell! Oh God, she’s dead. I can’t believe it still.’
Kovaks reached out and patted Damian’s shoulder. ‘OK bud, you cry, no problems.’
‘ I haven’t been able to cry yet,’ he said when he’d pulled himself together. ‘I’ve been too frightened, watching my back all the time.’
‘ Damian,’ said Kovaks. ‘I got to know.’
‘ Yeah, I know you do.’ He shook his head. His red eyes moistened again and tears fell down his face. ‘I still can’t believe it myself. I didn’t do it, Joe. Honest to God. You gotta believe me. I would never have hurt Sue. She was so precious, so delicate, like a flower.’
‘ Who killed her then?’ Kovaks interrupted.
Damian swallowed. ‘You won’t believe me when I tell you.’
‘ Try me.’
Damian told him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
At the same time as this revelation was being made, a car chase was just about to commence 3000 miles to the east in Blackpool.
The lights had just started to change; Donaldson slammed his foot on the accelerator pedal and cut dangerously across the oncoming traffic to slot in behind Henry’s Metro.
Henry was fumbling to reach his radio which he had thrown onto the back seat. He hoped the battery was still charged up.
Abbot was only dawdling along in the Metro. He was going to make towards the motorway and head out towards Preston. Once on the motorway, he decided, he would ‘screw the arse’ off the car and try to get the engine to explode.
‘ The cheeky little bastard,’ Henry said as he faced forwards again, clicking the radio on. ‘Doesn’t he know he’s stolen a cop’s car?’
‘ It’s not exactly the sort of car you associate with a cop,’ laughed Donaldson. ‘More with a scrap-metal dealer.’
‘ Don’t you start,’ Henry warned Donaldson.
Both men were thoroughly enjoying themselves with this diversion.
Henry spoke into the radio. Within seconds every mobile patrol in Blackpool knew what was going on. Some were already responding and making towards the area.
At that point Abbot checked his rearview mirror for the first time. He saw the Ford Escort close on his tail, two occupants on board, both male. He looked again more closely. The man in the passenger seat was talking into a radio.
‘ Shit,’ he hissed, and pulled away.
‘ He’s seen us,’ said Donaldson. The Escort was more than a match for the tired Metro, which hadn’t been serviced for well over a year and had nearly 90,000 miles on the clock. Donaldson had no trouble keeping up with Abbot, but maintained a safe distance between them in case he decided to slam the brakes on and cause an accident.
Abbot led them a merry dance through the side streets of Blackpool, but couldn’t shake Donaldson who stuck there like a terrier.
‘ He’ll bloody kill someone,’ remarked Henry as they rounded a tight corner on a narrow street with parked cars on both sides.
On the next corner Abbot briefly lost control. He skittered sideways into a parked car, giving it a glancing blow and taking the wing mirror off the Metro before recovering.
‘ Oh my beautiful car,’ said Henry painfully. ‘He’s damaged it.’
‘ It was falling to bits anyway,’ Donaldson noted.
‘ Oh, thanks very much. That’s my pride and joy, I’ll have you know,’ Henry said, feigning hurt. But there was a huge smile on his face. He was excited and had that peculiar empty feeling in his stomach and dryness of the mouth that he always experienced in situations like this. He put it down to adrenalin.
The car lurched as they took another bad bend. Henry’s seatbelt snapped tight as he shot forwards. He lifted the radio, pressed the transmit button and gave out the new location and direction of travel. ‘Preston New Road, towards the motorway.’
‘ The cavalry’s here,’ said Donaldson after a glance in the mirror.
A large, fast, sleek Rover 825i, liveried in the orange stripes of the Lancashire Constabulary Traffic Department, blue lights flashing, horns blaring, overtook Donaldson’s car, cruised easily past Abbot and pulled in front of him. The big ‘STOP’ sign came on. It had no effect. Abbot simply refused to pull in. He flashed his own ‘V’ signs at the traffic man.
‘ D’you know,’ said Henry, ‘I see that little car of mine in a whole new light. I didn’t know it could go so fast.’
‘ Obviously rising to the occasion,’ Donaldson guffawed.
By the time they reached the motorway there were three traffic cars involved in the pursuit. Once on the motorway proper they had Abbot literally boxed into the slow lane: one in front, one behind and one car at his side in the middle lane.
But he still would not stop.
Behind them all, Donaldson kept up. ‘He’s gotta stop now, surely,’ said the agent. ‘Don’t he know when he’s beat?’
‘ Crazy young bastard.’
The traffic cars edged him onto the hard shoulder. Now he was completely trapped and all they had to do was slow right down to a stop — then he was theirs. Or so they thought. He did have one avenue of escape open to him, which was to drive up the steep grass banking by the side of the motorway.
He reckoned he could probably make it to the top of the grass, where he could abandon the car then leg it on foot across the fields. From his wide experience of traffic cops he thought this would be the best move because he knew how much they hated getting out of their big, warm, fancy cars and chasing people on foot.
Abbot peeled away from the formation like an ace fighter pilot and gunned the car up the slope.
The manoeuvre took the traffic officers completely by surprise, which was fortunate for them. It meant that none of them lost their lives.
Halfway up, the steepness of the slope meant that the mercury tilt switch attached to the detonator in the half-pound block of Semtex strapped to the underside of Henry’s car was activated.
Contact was made.
Kovaks listened hard to Damian’s story. How he had been to his mother’s in Clearwater, but had returned early to surprise Sue. They had made passionate love within moments of his arrival and afterwards he’d gone to the en-suite bathroom to answer a pressing call of nature. Whilst in there, he’d heard someone at the apartment door, then voices in the lounge. Discreetly, he’d crept out of the bathroom and listened to what was going on. He had recognised Ritter’s voice and clearly followed the accusations he made to Sue about her knowing he was on Corelli’s payroll, then some talk about his condo and his boat. Sue had denied it all, saying she wasn’t keeping any sort of a file on him. Then things had got nasty. Sue had screamed for help. Damian had crept to the bedroom door and looked through the crack. To his horror, he’d seen a knife in Ritter’s hand plunging repeatedly into his girlfriend’s body, blood spurting everywhere. Frozen in fear and panic, unable to help her, he’d eventually scuttled under the bed where he’d hidden until it was all over, sucking his thumb, curled up in a foetal ball.