He began to squeeze. Gently. Steadily. Smoothly.
Within the inner pocket of his raincoat his mobile phone, set on silent mode, began to vibrate. The man paused, his finger now rigid on the trigger. He made himself relax his body. Then he lowered the rifle and reached inside his coat.
Only his employers contacted him on that phone. And he knew better than to ignore them. He was being sent a text. He called it up and read it through. The message was short and to the point. Just one word, repeated a second time.
‘Abort abort’
The anonymous man slid the phone back into his pocket, flipped on the rifle’s safety catch, once more tucked the gun inside his raincoat, and walked nonchalantly back to his car where he dismantled the weapon even more swiftly than he’d assembled it, replaced it in the case in the boot, and drove off.
In the Brooklyn brownstone the Enforcer, who rather enjoyed his work, was anticipating the moment when the cold steel blade of his butcher’s knife would plunge into warm softly compliant flesh. His fingers were clenched tight as a vice around the knife’s shaft, when he felt the cell phone in his trouser pocket vibrate.
Only his employers called him on that phone. The Enforcer knew better than to ignore them.
He reached for the phone and glanced at the text message he had just been sent. The Enforcer was disappointed, but it did not occur to him to do anything other than to obey the instruction he had been given. He relaxed his knife arm, and began to replace the weapon within the folds of his coat. With his other hand he made a kind of horizontal slashing motion. The Apprentice understood at once that the mission had been called off.
Once they’d left the building, the Enforcer held out the cell phone towards the Apprentice, so that the younger man could see the displayed message.
‘Abort abort’
Meanwhile Dom jolted suddenly awake, blinking furiously, cursing his own weakness. Something had disturbed him. What was it? Had he heard a noise? Or was it his imagination? Could he have been dreaming?
He hauled himself to his feet, shaking off his bone weariness. No harm was going to come to Connie Pike while he had care of her, that was for certain, whatever that up-herself damned Englishwoman thought.
Dom looked across at Connie, who was still sleeping peacefully. It was the first time he’d seen her at peace since it all began.
He checked the locks on the window by Connie’s bed, as he’d done a dozen times that day, and peered outside into the street. Everything seemed normal. But Dom’s antennae were waggling. He slipped out of the bedroom, and began to make his way systematically through the house, checking each room, every window and door.
Everything was as it should be. In any case surely nobody could have found them there, could they? Not yet. The brownstone belonged to Gaynor’s grandmother, who was in hospital. And Gaynor and Dom had agreed it was about as safe a house as they were going to get.
None the less Dom still felt uneasy. He still felt that something was not quite right, although he couldn’t explain to himself what or why.
Then the house phone rang. It was Gaynor.
‘Have you guys seen the news?’ she asked.
Sandy Jones was totally unaware of just how close she had come to death. She had no idea that an armed assassin had been about to cold-bloodedly shoot her through her bedroom window. And, of course, she had no idea that, in New York, Connie Pike and her minder had also only narrowly escaped a violent death.
To her, everything at Northdown seemed peaceful.
She drew her bedroom curtains, undressed, showered in the en suite, then pulled on jeans and a clean shirt. Downstairs again, the aroma of frying bacon hit her as soon as she opened the kitchen door.
‘I raided your deep freeze for the bacon, and I’m going to scramble some eggs I found in your fridge, if that’s all right,’ said Ed.
‘More than all right,’ said Jones, who had hardly eaten anything all day again, and now, smelling the bacon, realized just how hungry she was.
As she opened a bottle of wine, she glanced sideways at Ed, busying himself over the frying pan. He was such a kind, thoughtful man; still quite attractive, too, in spite of having now lost most of his hair. But then, he’d not had much left when she’d last seen him twenty-one years earlier.
She gave Ed a fuller account of the press conference as they ate, and they were still discussing what they both hoped would be achieved when her phone rang.
‘It’s me, you fucking genius.’
Jones’s face broke into a wide grin.
‘I knew you’d see the light one of these days,’ she responded.
‘Connie,’ she hissed in an aside to Ed, who let out a yelp of delight. Connie was alive.
Jones returned her attentions to the phone.
‘Are you all right, Con?’ she asked. ‘It’s just wonderful to hear from you.’
‘I’m fine. One hundred per cent. Thanks to you.’
Jones’s grin grew even wider. It was already clear that Connie not only knew that Jones had gone public, but that she approved.
‘Where are you? Are you still with Dom? Are you still hiding away somewhere?’
‘I’m with Gaynor. In her car. Along with two very large male detectives. She picked up the news first.’
There was a brief pause.
‘I understand you found out what she does for a living, Sandy,’ Connie continued.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Yes, well, Marion and I didn’t know that either. Not when we went to Dom for help. But Dom’s right. The only good cop is a tame one.’
She chuckled.
‘So what are you doing now?’ asked Jones. ‘How are you handling this?’
‘Well, straight away we reckoned you’d made me pretty much bullet proof. For a while anyway. You’ve also given credence to my conspiracy theory. I’ve already given a statement to the police. Put everything on record. Gaynor and her friends are taking me to CNN. I’m doing a TV interview. They’re my police protection apparently, though I don’t reckon I need it. Anyone in high places who’s been after my tail is going to back right off now.’
‘Uh huh. I didn’t know the NYPD ran a chauffeur service for television stations.’
‘Maybe it depends on whether or not they have a personal interest.’
‘And Dom?’
‘He’s sleeping, I hope. He’s been watching over me day and night. He’s exhausted. None the less he still wasn’t happy about letting me out of his sight. I think his nose might be a bit out of joint.’
Jones laughed.
‘I guess I misjudged him.’
‘I guess so. Anyway, Sandy. I think you’ve worked a miracle. I couldn’t do any of this if you hadn’t gone public in the way you did. I do understand what it took for you to speak out like that, you know.’
Jones was silent for a moment. Connie knew better than anyone what her career meant to her. She also knew what damage an acknowledged association with RECAP could still do to Sandy Jones. Connie was, more than likely, the only person in the world who did understand. Except perhaps Ed.
‘Yes, well, not before time,’ she said.
‘Without you nobody would have given a shit,’ Connie continued. ‘Nobody would have listened. I would just have been that psi nut. More than that, if I’d come out of hiding without your backing I would almost certainly have had a fatal accident.’
‘I think we all feared that.’
‘Yep. I didn’t know you had so much clout. You clever bitch.’
‘Careful Connie, I’m not used to flattery from you. Even if it is wrapped up in your usual vernacular.’
‘Yeah, well. You may just have given me my life back, Dr Sandy Jones.’
‘I hope so.’ Jones paused. ‘How’s Marion? Have you been to see her yet?’