Birdman

'Look, Jack.' Essex pointed into the distance. Black clouds crowded at the estuary mouth, as if trying to block the entrance. 'Talk about bleeding prophetic.'

'He's had time to do it, Paul. She might already be…'

Essex looked at Caffery's face and bit his lip. 'Yes. You need to be prepared.'

'Usual radio routine.' O'Shea flexed tattooed hands. 'Perimeter team keep those check-in calls coming. If it goes belly up, and you're compromised, you know the radio drill.'

* * *

Diamond had watched the small man for a while, until he had disappeared down the lane. Then he yawned and scratched his nose, finished his cigarette and dropped it on the tarmac. It had started to rain. He felt in his pocket for the Sierra keys; no point in getting soaked out here, leave that to the heroes. His hand was on the car door when Bliss, sweating now, dropped like wet ivy from the high bank onto his shoulders.

'Hello,' he whispered.

Diamond dropped the keys and shot back against the Sierra, gibbering, eyes wide with pain: Bliss had a neat hard hold on his genitals. He hop-skipped along beside him, yellow eyes inches from Diamond's face. 'Slowly, slowly, you'll hurt yourself.'

'I'm police. Police.' He grappled with Bliss's hand, trying to free himself, but the saw whirred to life and made one serene pass across his knuckles, not deep, but enough to tap the wellspring of blood. Diamond screamed, snapping his arms away. 'Don't cut me, don't cut me. I'm police.'

'Do you promise to keep your hands still? Keep them over your head.'

'Yes, yes, yes.' Panting, he raised his arms against the tree. 'Yes.'

'Say it. Say I promise.'

'Jesus. Yes — I promise.'

'Cross your heart hope to die.'

'Cross my heart and hope to — to—' Diamond started to shake. 'What are you going to do to me?'

'Shut up.' Bliss blinked furiously. 'Just shut up.' Spittle formed on the edges of his mouth. He couldn't wipe it away, one hand was tight around the saw's handpiece and one was holding the soft, gristly flesh of the DI's balls and cock. Their eyes were level and Bliss could smell cold terror on the man's breath.

'Look.' Diamond was shivering. 'I'm a nobody in this. It's not me who brought them down here. They won't even let me near the house. That's why I've been left up here.'

'Who makes the decisions?'

'Decisions?' Diamond licked his lips. 'Decisions? That'll be our — our—'

'Yes?'

Diamond hesitated, a flicker of realization in his eyes. He calmed perceptibly. 'That'll be our DI. Caffery. Jack Caffery.'

'Him?' Bliss said, revealing his stained teeth. 'Where is he?'

'He's at the bottom of the hill. Shall I show you?'

'That would be nice.'

'Will you let me go?'

'We'll see. Now give me your radio.'

* * *

The rain picked up tempo. It ran down the back of Caffery's collar, soaking into his shoes. The inky clouds had moved across the estuary and seemed to be stacking above the house. The windows remained dark, unopened.

'Answer the phone, you bastard.'

He and Essex stood well removed, halfway down the field, radio silent, the squelch down. Caffery had rarely felt this useless. He knew that Rebecca was in the bungalow, and his imagination supplied a list of appalling possibilities. He could just glimpse the TSG entry team, in groups at the end of the easement, pulling on gloves, shouldering the red door spreader.

Essex turned. DI Diamond stood on the hem of the wood, white and silent, beckoning to him.

'That dickspit. What the hell does he want?' Quickly and quietly he moved to the edge of the trees. 'What are you doing down here?' he hissed.

'This way,' Diamond whispered and backed into the woods.

Essex followed. 'You're supposed to have stayed on the road.'

'This way.'

'What happened to your hand? You're bleeding—'

From where he lay coiled in last year's leaf compost, Bliss was quick and accurate. In a single movement he had severed Essex's right Achilles tendon with a soft popping sound.

'Jesus fucking Christ.' He went down like an old tree, too startled to shout, toppling onto his shoulder, his radio spinning away as he grappled in the blood to gather the ends of the split tendon.

'And the other one.' Bliss, eyes watering with excitement, pounced on him, the saw whirring. But Essex was faster than he looked. Grunting, he flipped himself onto his back, pulling his arm behind him in a hard, precise arc, slamming down onto Bliss's spine.

Bliss dropped the saw and rolled over with a tired 'Oof,' shocked and winded, into the wet leaves.

'YOU PIECE OF SHIT, BLISS!' Essex screamed, continuing the roll, pinning Bliss under his bulk. 'YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!'

Grunting loudly he manoeuvred himself until he lay, panting like a beached fish, across Bliss's back. His radio was gone, and he knew the damage done. He knew that his foot was dangling, the muscles, the vessels, all open to the air. His only weapon was his weight, enough to keep Bliss down until someone came.

'Diamond,' he yelled. 'Use my radio, Diamond. All units.'

But Diamond was shuddering — holding up his hand. 'Bastard cut me,' he muttered. 'Could've gone straight through an artery—'

'DIAMOND!'

'She's dead anyway.' Bliss spat into the leaf mulch. 'They both are, the bitches.'

Essex caught Bliss's shirt above the shoulder blades.

'What did you say, you piece of shit?' But Bliss's face was calm, beatifically serene and silent. Essex rammed his elbow into the pulp of his back. 'Did you kill them?' He slammed his elbow down again, ignoring the soft grating of the ligaments in his foot. Bliss didn't flinch. 'What've you done, you dickwipe? Have you killed them?'

* * *

'Essex?' Caffery knew something was wrong the moment he turned round and saw only empty woods where Diamond had been. He took a few paces to the edge of the trees, his radio at the ready. He paused.

From deep in the wood came a soft, almost inaudible cry. Inhuman. And — intermittently — a brief, unsettling mechanical buzz.

'Essex?' Nothing. 'Paul? You all right?'

Silence.

This is all wrong, Jack. All wrong.

Slowly, radio at his lips, he stepped forward. The buzzing dipped and hushed. Fear sucked at his belly.

'Bravo six-o-two to all units.'

He rounded a group of silver birches and stopped.

Diamond leaned against a fallen trunk clutching one arm against his chest, staring at Essex, who lay ten yards into the forest, face frozen and blueish, pinning Bliss to the ground. Bliss had one arm curled behind his back. His lids strained back showing the pink corners of his eyes. Inches away in the leaves the electric saw rotated laboriously, like a tired dog chasing its tail.

'Jesus — Paul.'

Essex looked up. 'He says he's killed them, Jack.'

'OK — hold him.' Carefully he started towards them, his hand out. 'Keep it calm — hold him—'

But Diamond's arm shot out, gripping his elbow. 'I couldn't do anything, I couldn't. Look.' He held his hand out. 'See the blood — see the colour?' His pale mouth quivered. 'It's too red. He's gone in too deep.'

'Diamond.' Caffery rounded on him.

Without thinking about it or even breaking step he fractured Diamond's cosmetic little nose in two places. 'I warned you.'

Diamond went down screaming, hands clamped over his face. 'What the fuck did you do that for? What the fuck?' and twenty yards away Bliss saw his opportunity.

He pulled the electric saw towards him, and with a slippery, soft-limbed flick gently brought Essex's right arm down onto it, opening the tender wrist. Blood bloomed, broke and fountained, Essex's mouth opened in a roar.