There was a pause. Then, ‘She left an hour ago.’
‘An hour?’ Concern pricked at Pete’s spine. ‘She should be home by now.’ He didn’t like this.
‘Right,’ Richard suddenly all business, ‘I’ll put a call out, all units on alert. We’ll find her.’
‘You’ll ring me, soon as you know anything.’
‘Of course.’
Any impatience on Pete’s part had drained away leaving him swamped by anxiety as he ended the call.
Chapter Twenty
Each time a man entered the lobby, single or accompanied, Shap’s eyes flicked over to the receptionist. And so far he had been disappointed. No signal from the girl that here was the quarry. He entertained himself guessing what people were doing here: the smart business types in town to talk up deals; the trendy ones who might be in the media, actors or visiting musicians; and the visitors, here for pleasure, taking in the history or the culture, or the shopping.
He half hoped he’d spot a celebrity – The Midland was a popular meeting spot – maybe someone from Corrie or United; he could add them to his list along with Robbie Williams, David Jason, Victoria Wood and Michael Owen.
Another bloke approached the desk. He had blond hair, wore a long raincoat; he was carrying a laptop. Eyes alert, Shap waited. The way the man stood obscured Shap’s view of the girl on the desk. Come on, he thought, let the dog see the rabbit. The man took his key and moved away towards the lift. The receptionist gave a small shake of her head.
Shap sighed and sat back. What was Sulikov up to? Out on the town? They’d a pair of coppers posted at both the club and the brothel with strict instructions to make an arrest if the Polack turned up there. Someone who could afford to stay here could be living the high life: dinner at Simply Heathcoat’s, on to one of the city’s private members’ clubs. Or maybe he was out seeing what his rivals in the sex trade were up to this season, sampling the goods.
The thought made him cross his legs. Mind on the job. He watched a girl go by, nice looker. Mind you the girl behind the desk was quite a stunner, smiled a lot too. But she had laughed outright when he asked if she fancied a drink sometime. Like he’d made a joke. ‘Hah, hah, hah. I don’t think so,’ she’d giggle. Probably engaged, he decided. Not available rather than not interested.
Another bloke came in, grey-haired and stoop shouldered and Shap pretended to read the refreshments menu he was holding, while he watched him ask for his key.
Stone had directed Janine to drive to an abandoned storage depot within sight of Manchester Airport. Here and there loomed old freight containers, rusting and daubed with graffiti. The rough ground was strewn with weeds and old gravel tracks criss-crossed the area. Janine had never been here before. She wondered how Stone knew about it. Barbed wire surrounded much of the perimeter and she had seen notices which suggested that re-development work was imminent, along with weather-beaten signs warning of guard dog patrols.
After telling her to stop and turn the engine off, Stone had issued his demands. ‘I am not going down for murder,’ said Stone. ‘You’ve got to tell them. And you’ve got to get me some protection.’
Janine’s voice felt unreliable. ‘It doesn’t work-’ she began.
‘Now!’ he shouted, making her jump. ‘You don’t have much choice, do you, lady?’
‘Put the gun down. I can’t do anything until you put the gun down.’
‘No!’ His face was contorted.
‘Just-’
‘Shut it.’
‘Please, put the gun down.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Please, Lee, please put the-’
‘Shut up!’ He yelled. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
There was a powerful crack, a whoomph of air. The front windscreen shattered, lines crazing across the glass. He’d shot the gun.
Janine started to tremble uncontrollably. Her heart thundered against her ribs. Her ears hurt. She had felt the impact of the blast through her bones, in all her soft tissue. Oh, God, help me, she prayed.
Stone still held the gun. She watched in the mirror which was still intact. ‘You gonna listen to me?’ She could barely make out the words, her ears singing and buzzing.
‘Yes,’ she said hoarsely.
‘Sulikov rang us, on my mobile. He said the girl had died of an overdose. We had to take the car and get rid. We didn’t know he’d killed her. Then, well, job like that, putting her in the water, you get all wired up. Needed to burn some of the adrenalin off. But we didn’t kill her.’
‘But you ran over Ann-Marie.’ She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth.
‘Shut up,’ he shouted again. ‘Shut up and listen.’
She gripped the steering wheel to stop her hands from shaking.
‘When you let us out, I rang Sulikov back. We needed to get right away.’ He paused. She saw him blink momentarily, his face drawn and tired in the reflection. She realised he was at breaking point. ‘He goes ballistic, yabbering on in Polack, but he knew we’d be bad news hanging round here. He was going back to Poland – says he’ll take us across the Channel. There’s some warehouses not far from us, an old tunnel. He says he’ll meet us at the other side. We go all the way in. He’s standing at the top of the steps, yelling at us hurry up. Then he opens up. Fucking Terminator. Jez goes down. I legged it. He’s firing after me. Soon as he knows where I am, he’ll be after me next. You’ve got to get me protection.’
‘You’ll turn Queen’s evidence?’
‘I dunno.’
‘It’s a two-way street.’
‘He’ll get round it. You’ll never get him to court. He’ll drop out of sight in Europe. Then, what about me? If there’s no trial?’
She tried to reassure him, ‘With your testimony and stuff we’ve got from Harper, we’ve a strong case. We know where Sulikov is. But we need to move quickly.’ A sudden swirl of unfairness caught hold of her. She was scared and sick of him threatening her. He wanted to deal – he could do it her way. ‘And absolutely nothing happens until you move that bloody gun. Do you know how hard it is to even think straight with you pointing that thing at me?’
‘How do I know you’re gonna do what you say?’
‘You don’t. But I’m being straight with you. You give us the information we need on Sulikov and we’ll get you into witness protection. As long as it all adds up.’
He lowered the gun. ‘What now?’
She felt like weeping. She cleared her throat, the sound was strange in her ears. ‘Now I take you in.’ She pressed her hands to her face, trying to calm herself. She rubbed at her forehead, rolled back her shoulders.
Movement caught her eye. On the horizon, where they had entered the field, a string of police cars appeared in view and among them Richard’s car. Oh, bloody Nora, Janine thought. It’s Thelma and Louise.
‘It’s a set-up!’ Stone screamed and raised the gun again.
‘No,’ Janine insisted. ‘Let me talk to them. I’ll send them away.’
‘You conned me!’
‘No! Lee, I didn’t, you’ve got to believe me. I’ll tell them.’ Without waiting for permission she switched on the police radio, activated the amplifier and spoke into the handset, ‘Richard, back off! Back off now! Get them all out of here.’
The line crackled then Richard’s voice. ‘Are you OK, Janine? Are you hurt?’
‘Never better.’ Her sarcasm felt white hot. ‘Lee Stone is coming in. But only if you get rid of the bloody cavalry.’
‘Are you sure you’re not hurt? We’ve had reports of gunfire.’
Listen to me, you fool, she thought. ‘Ten out of ten, Richard! And I’m the one with bloody hearing loss not you. Back off!’ she said clearly, fury tightening every syllable. ‘Back off. Now! We do not need an escort. Mr Stone will require legal services and complete protection. We will be treating him as a valuable witness. Now clear the area. That’s not a suggestion, that’s a bloody order!’