ANNIE STILL seemed a small and pathetic figure as she lay there against the white sheets hooked up to the machines and tubes, but her return to consciousness seemed to have given her more presence, Banks felt. The tube was gone from her mouth, and she even managed a taut grin when she saw him walk into her room. He took her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How are you doing?”
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a ten-ton lorry.”
“Two bullets from a Baikal nine millimeter, actually.”
“Trust you to take all the romance out of it.” Banks smiled and felt Annie squeeze his hand. She wheezed. “It’s still hard to breathe sometimes. Could you pass me the water, please?”
Banks passed her the cup of water with the bendy straw. “I don’t suppose the morphine does any harm, either?” he said.
“Certainly not. Want some?”
“What would the doctor say? Besides, if I had anything other than tea or coffee right now, I’d probably fall down right in the bed beside you. I…er… I…”
The machines beeped into the silence that stretched between them.
Annie squeezed his hand again. “That probably wouldn’t be such a terrible thing,” she said, “if it weren’t for all these tubes and needles. We’d make an awful mess. But I don’t suppose that’s why you’re here.”
“Believe it or not,” Banks said, “I’m here because we just got the news you’d returned to the land of the living, and I wanted to come and see you with my own eyes. I’m here because I care, Annie, that’s all. We all do.”
“Stop it, you’ll make me cry.” She took her hand away for a moment to wipe her eyes.
“Where’s Ray?” Banks asked.
“He’s gone to get some sleep. Finally. It took a lot of persuading.”
“I’ll bet. By the way, your girlfriend says hello.”
“Girlf-Ah. So you’ve met Nerys?”
“Yes. She’s very smitten with you, you know.”
“She told me I wasn’t her type.”
“I guess she just didn’t want to risk driving you away.”
“And you know all about these things? You’re the expert all of a sudden? Anyway, Nerys is all right. Tell her thanks. Don’t you want to interrogate me about what happened?”
“Oh, I’d love to. Foremost thing on my mind. Seriously, though, if you feel up to answering a couple of questions…you know, seeing as I’m here…”
“Bastard.” Annie dug her nails into his palm. “A real Mr. Sensitive, aren’t you? I don’t remember anything, really, you know. Except…”
“Except what?”
“Except Tracy.”
“What about her?”
“Just that she was there, at Newhope Cottage. She opened the door. We were talking.”
“How did she seem? Do you remember?”
“Scared. She seemed scared. And nervous. Always looking over her shoulder, biting her fingernails.”
“As if she wasn’t in control?”
“As if she was playing a part and someone was watching her and she knew she had to get it right. But she was off-balance, a little stoned, I think, or drunk.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“Jaff McCready, you mean? No, I didn’t see him. Just a shadow. That’s all. It happened so fast. After that, nothing.”
“Tracy may have saved your life,” Banks said. “She phoned it in. The 999 call. It cost her her mobile, her lifeline, and maybe even a beating, but she did it.”
Annie smiled. “Tell her thank you from me.”
“I will.”
“What’s wrong?”
Banks shook his head and stroked the palm of Annie’s hand, looking down at the dry skin. “I don’t know where she is, only that she’s in danger.”
“Jaff’s still got her with him?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Alan. I’m sorry.”
“We’ll find them.” Banks patted her hand. “Look, the doctor told me not to tire you out.”
“From where I’m lying, you’re the one who looks the most tired.”
“Jet lag,” said Banks. “It’s been a long day.”
“I suppose it’s no good telling you to go home and get some sleep?”
“I can’t go…” Banks let it trail.
“What? Oh, of course,” said Annie, and he saw the realization dawn on her face. “The shooting. I’m sorry, Alan, sorry I got shot in your lovely conservatory and turned your cottage into a crime scene.”
Banks was about to protest, say it was all right or some such silly retort, when he saw the mischievous smile curling at the edges of Annie’s lips.
“You’re winding me up.”
“Gotcha,” she said. Then she looked beyond Banks and her expression brightened even more. “Winsome! Wonderful to see you.”
“You, too,” said Winsome, hurrying over and giving Annie a gentle hug as best she could through the jumble of tubes. She passed the mobile to Banks. “You might want to hear this,” she said. Banks nodded, said he’d be back, and hurried out of the room.
The line was open, and Superintendent Gervaise was on the other end. “Alan? How is she?”
“Stunning,” said Banks. “Magnificent. What’s the news?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Nothing on Jaff and Tracy’s whereabouts yet, but we think we’ve found Justin Peverell. Or, rather, Winsome found him shortly before she drove you to Middlesbrough, only she didn’t know it. We just got the call back. It was touch and go to get her contact to talk to me. I must say, he was rather rude.”
“Excellent news,” said Banks. “I didn’t mean about the rudeness. Sorry.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Anyway, the Met are none too happy about shutting Peverell down, according to a bloke called Burgess, apparently, Commander Burgess. Gave me a right earful. I believe he’s a friend of yours?”
“I know him,” said Banks. “What did he say?”
“Simply that his department, which he wouldn’t name, by the way, had been watching Justin Peverell for some time, and he’d led them to identify a number of couriers and traders they hadn’t known about before, in addition to a couple of routes and methods for smuggling in asylum seekers and sex-trade women that nobody had thought of. He didn’t know they were watching him, and if we shut him down, all the good information goes with him, and the ones they’ve already identified scatter.”
“Can’t he round them up before we take in Peverell? Put a rush on it?”
“Yes,” said Gervaise. “Some of them. That was what I suggested, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. But he’s not happy about it, and he wanted me to know it. You know the way it goes. There’s always the hope of more. Peverell hasn’t outlived his usefulness as far as Burgess is concerned.”
“There’ll be plenty more where he came from,” said Banks. “What next?”
“Burgess says he’ll put a watching brief on Peverell’s house in Highgate. They’ve been faxed Rose’s sketches of Ciaran and Darren, along with photos of McCready and Tracy. They’ll take note if anyone comes to the house, and there’s another team to follow anyone who leaves.”
“Good,” said Banks. “Let’s hope we can catch up with McCready and Tracy before they get there, but it’s good to know there’s a second line of defense in place if we don’t. The only thing that worries me is they can be a bit quick on the draw down there, if you know what I mean.”
“Commander Burgess has been fully apprised of the situation,” said Gervaise. “He…er…he knows McCready has your daughter, and he asked me to pass on his sympathy. He said he wouldn’t be telling me any of this if it wasn’t for you. He also gave his word that he’ll see to it she comes out unharmed. Can you trust him?”
“I can trust him,” said Banks. “I don’t necessarily trust the company he keeps, but I trust him, all right.”
“Best we can do for the moment, then,” said Gervaise. “Get Winsome to drive you back to your flat. Have a little nap. I’ll be in touch as soon as there’s any news.”