“She just gunned him down in cold blood,” Graham said, still fanning the water with the Uzi he had withdrawn from Scotland Yard that morning.
Paluzzi didn’t reply.
Graham looked at Paluzzi and realized something was wrong. He was sweating and his face was twisted in pain. “Fabio, what is it?”
“He’s not the only one she shot,” Paluzzi hissed through clenched teeth.
“Where are you hit?” Graham asked anxiously.
“My side. It feels like the bullet’s smashed through my rib cage. Christ, it hurts.” Paluzzi looked at Graham. “I’m going to try and put down on that abandoned wharf further down river. I don’t know if I’ll make it though. I’ll take the chopper down close to the water so you can bail out. OK?”
“Like hell I will,” Graham retorted sharply. “We’re both going to make it to the docks.”
Paluzzi shook his head and lowered the helicopter toward the water. “OK, jump.”
“Quit wasting time and get the hell over to those docks,” Graham snapped.
Suddenly Paluzzi reached over and unbuckled Graham’s safety belt. Graham was still fumbling with the belt when Paluzzi tilted the helicopter sharply to the side. Losing his grip, Graham tumbled headlong through the open doorway and into the water.
Paluzzi levelled out the helicopter and headed toward the abandoned docks. He knew there were other areas closer where he could try and put down, but if the helicopter were to crash it might endanger innocent people. No, he had to keep to the river and make for the docks. He gritted his teeth as the pain seared through his body with every move he made. The sweat stung his eyes but he made no attempt to wipe it away. He needed both hands for the controls.
He felt himself slipping over the abyss of consciousness. The control panel blurred in front of him and he squeezed his eyes closed then opened them again. They were in focus again. Keep your mind active. He thought about Claudine. And Dario. Stay awake for them. If he pulled through this he’d take more notice of what Claudine had to say in future. That was a promise. He knew she wanted to go back to Italy. They could go. He’d take the post with the NOCS. But he had to stay awake. The dials blurred again. He blinked rapidly. This time they remained blurred. His hand slipped off the stick and the helicopter swiveled sharply to one side before he managed to regain control of it. The pads skimmed across the water. He couldn’t move his hands. They felt like lead. He wouldn’t make the docks. He was going to crash …
Graham was picked up by a police launch. He refused any medical attention but did accept a blanket which he threw around his shoulders. The water had been freezing. He was glad of the warmth. He remained on deck as the launch sped after the retreating helicopter. They lost sight of the helicopter as it disappeared around a bend in the river. Seconds later there was an ear-splitting explosion and they watched in horror as plumes of thick, black smoke spiraled hundreds of feet up into the sky. But it was only when the launch negotiated the bend that the full extent of the carnage became apparent. The helicopter had plowed into a mobile crane on the wharf where Paluzzi had hoped to put down. The helicopter had exploded on impact, and the twisted remains of the tail section now lay on the other side of the wharf. The fuselage was already a blackened shell as the flames continued to lick around it.
Graham sank slowly onto the bench behind him and buried his face in his hands. The captain put a consoling hand on Graham’s shoulder. Nobody could have survived that.
“Sir!” the look-out shouted to the captain from his vantage point above the bridge. “There’s someone in the water.”
Graham discarded the blanket and hurried over to the railing.
“My God, he’s right,” the captain said in disbelief, staring at the motionless figure floating in the water thirty yards away from the boat’s starboard bow.
Graham dived into the water before the captain had a chance to stop him. He swam with powerful strokes to where Paluzzi was floating, his head lolling on the front of his life jacket. He gently lifted Paluzzi’s head. Blood was streaming down his face from a gash under his hairline.
The police launch came alongside the two men and willing hands reached down to pull Paluzzi out of the water. He was already stretched out on the deck when Graham scrambled back onto the launch. A blanket was immediately thrown around Graham’s shoulders again.
“Is he alive?” Graham asked anxiously, standing over the inert figure.
“Yes, but he’s lost consciousness and his pulse is very weak,” the medic replied.
“He must have bailed out at the last possible moment,” the captain said, staring at Paluzzi.
“Yeah,” Graham agreed. “He could have put down earlier but he specifically made for that abandoned pier knowing that if he did pass out before he reached it there would be no risk of any innocent casualties.”
“And that’s obviously why he dumped you in the river first,” the captain said.
Graham nodded. “Where are we headed?”
“Cadogan Pier. I’ve already radioed ahead for an ambulance. He’ll be taken straight to Guy’s Hospital.”
The medic stood up. “His weak pulse is only to be expected due to the amount of blood he’s lost. The head wound’s my main concern. It’s a deep laceration. He’ll certainly need a brain scan once he reaches the hospital.”
“What about the bullet wound?” Graham asked.
“The bullet passed straight through him. It’s my guess he’s probably broken a couple of ribs as well, judging by the angle of the bullet. I can’t be sure, you understand, not without the proper equipment.” The medic indicated Graham’s wet clothes. “I suggest you change out of those. You’ll have pneumonia before you know it. There are clothes below. I’ll get one of the crew to show you.”
Graham looked at Paluzzi once more then followed the man down the hatchway.
Fiona had already adjusted the directional beacon detector before she went over the side of the barge. So, while the police divers scanned the area around the barge with powerful underwater lights, she had already made good her escape on the swimmer delivery vehicle. Her destination was a row of houseboats further down river. She had never intended to return to the warehouse. She knew the authorities could have stumbled on to the car while they were away. It would have been too risky.
She used the detector to home in on the beacon secured to the side of the houseboat belonging to a couple who, according to the directive, had been on holiday for the past ten days. They weren’t expected back for another week. She tethered the SDV to the anchor chain then unloaded the oxygen cylinders and flippers into the water before clambering onto the deck. It didn’t matter if she was seen. In the unlikely event of someone raising the alarm, she would be long gone before the authorities arrived.
She discarded the mask over the side then hurried down the stairs and used a duplicate key to get into the main cabin. Stripping off her wetsuit she went, as instructed, to the built-in cupboard. A holdall had been placed there, containing a pair of jeans, a sweater and a pair of moccasins. She dressed quickly, stuffed the wetsuit into the holdall and carried the bag down the gangplank to the shore. She walked to the nearest tube station where she boarded a train for Finsbury Park.
Graham got to his feet when he saw Whitlock hurrying down the hospital corridor toward him.