Chambers had been signing chain of evidence dockets to be attached to evidence bags, but now he was done and turned from the uniformed officer carting away my weapons. Those pointy ears of his weren’t just for show.
‘Then I saved us all a whole bundle of shit,’ he said. ‘You do know I’ve just spared you a murder charge, Hunter?’
‘You’re all heart, Detective.’
He snorted, but then he shook his head. ‘Look. We got off to a bad start yesterday; let me see what I can do about getting you back on the street soon. Of course, to do that you’ll have to fully cooperate.’
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘I’m one of the good guys. What else do you expect?’
I couldn’t exactly feel the love in the air, but Chambers and I had just crossed the boundary. He grinned. It was an odd look on a Vulcan. I smiled back, then my smile froze in place.
Distracted by our peace-making we’d taken our eyes off Samuel for less than a minute, but it had been long enough for everything to go sour.
I caught movement near the cruiser and recognised it as a uniformed cop on his hands and knees. He was spitting and streams of mucus hung from his nostrils. I’d only to turn my head a fraction to see the white-haired businessman shambling towards me. He dragged one leg like the old Universal Studios’ Mummy, one arm extended in front of him. The other hand was a floppy mess knocking against his left thigh, and even in that instant I could see that Samuel had broken his own thumb and torn the skin from the back of his hand in his efforts to free his cuffs.
What a demented bastard.
But he was also relentless. If it wasn’t for the fact he was coming to kill me I could respect his determination.
‘Look out!’
It was Witherspoon who shouted. All around us uniformed cops were seeking refuge behind their cars, while others attempted to steer the hotel guests out of harm’s way. They should have been shooting at the goddamn killer.
Witherspoon dropped to one knee, going for his gun. It was clipped on his trouser belt, and awkward to get at under his jacket. Chambers on the other hand slapped down and came away with his gun all in one movement. He wasn’t fast enough though and Samuel fired first. The bullet knocked Chambers against me. He wheezed, making an agonised sound deep in his chest. Samuel turned the gun on Witherspoon and the older cop rolled aside with all the grace of a hippopotamus. Bullets struck the ground, sending up chips of concrete. Thankfully Witherspoon avoided the rounds but he was on his side, his gun trapped beneath him. He was in no position to return fire.
Samuel kept coming, and I was encumbered by Chambers.
‘Shit.’
‘Care to join me in hell?’ Samuel said.
I’d always expected that I’d go out with a pithy remark, but right then I’d nothing to say. Why waste my final breath on that arsehole?
‘I’d love to do this the old-fashioned way,’ Samuel said, lifting his torn hand, ‘but as you can see I’m not in my best shape at the moment.’
He aimed the pistol at me, even as other cops began shouting at him to lay down his weapon. He was beyond that now: Samuel knew that as soon as he dropped me he’d be fired upon but I could see that he no longer cared. He told me once that he wasn’t afraid to die. He wasn’t. And he was set on taking me with him.
Suddenly there was another figure standing alongside him.
I recognised the grey hooded top at much the same time as Scott Blackstock fired a round into Samuel’s side. The force of the round knocked Samuel sideways and the bullet he fired at me missed and struck the wall of the hotel.
Samuel went down on his injured leg, but he wasn’t dead yet.
Shoot him again, I wanted to yell at Scott, but Scott was too busy screaming.
‘What did you do with my wife? You bastard, tell me! What did you do with Helena?’
Blood was pulsing out of the wound in Samuel’s right side, and whatever damage had occurred inside made his right arm weak. But he still retained enough strength to bring his gun round and aim it at Scott. Scott seemed oblivious to the threat and continued to demand answers. I’d tried to keep him out of harm’s way by knocking him out, but I hadn’t hit him hard enough. I owed him my life but it looked like he was going to die and there was nothing I could do to repay him.
‘Here.’
I looked down at Chambers. He was still bent in pain, but he offered me his gun.
‘Take it,’ he said.
‘Willingly,’ I said, and then emptied the entire mag into Samuel Logan’s body.
As the killer collapsed over on his back, Scott threw an incredulous look my way.
‘No! No, I need him to tell me where Helena is.’
Scott leaned in close to Samuel.
With Chambers on one side and Witherspoon offering cover from the other, we advanced on the prone man. I looked down and even after his body had been torn apart by gunfire there was still a spark of lucidity in Samuel’s gaze. He blinked at me.
‘Tell him what happened, Samuel. If there’s any pity left in your heart, tell the man what happened to his wife.’
Samuel began laughing, frothy blood popping on his lips. His voice was paper-thin, but still pitiless.
‘We’ll never know,’ he said.
46
Jay didn’t get to go home the following morning, or the day after that. In fact it was the third day following the horrific incident at the hotel before the investigation was at a point where the witnesses were free to leave. The extra time spent there didn’t jar on her the way it had previously because now she knew there was no Samuel Logan lurking in the wings. As he had passed, so had her fear. In fact it had fled before that, the moment she’d fought the monster to save her father’s life. Jay didn’t feel Nicole’s sense of satisfaction at seeing Samuel gunned down, but had to admit she was glad he was gone. She understood now that part of Nicole’s relief was due to the fact that she hadn’t succumbed to temptation and murdered the man. After they’d wept together and the old Nic was back, the two young women had laughed themselves giddy.
‘Do you still want to live dangerously?’ Nicole had asked.
‘No, thanks, I’ve had quite enough of the wild life.’
‘So we won’t be taking that two-centre holiday we were planning in Iraq and Afghanistan?’
They’d roared with laughter then, tears streaming down their faces and they’d made so much noise rolling about on their beds that her dad had knocked on their hotel-room door to check on them. It was like they were kids again, and it was a wonderful feeling.
The sight of her dad’s face had sobered Jay somewhat. Where Samuel had struck him with the gun his cheek was swollen and a dark bruise the colour of liver had spread all the way down to his jaw. Otherwise he was OK and Jay had hugged him until he was laughing with them. When her mum arrived, along with Nicole’s parents, the other guests in the hotel must have thought they’d booked into a lunatic asylum.
Jay wasn’t laughing now, though. In truth she was hard put to hold back the tears as she went to say goodbye to Joe Hunter. She owed that man more than just her thanks, but she knew that was all he’d take. Maybe in another life things could have worked out differently. No, she then thought. She’d had enough of alternate worlds. Oz — and all other fantasy worlds — were banished from her mind from now on.
Joe had spent more time at the police station than she had. Some of his time there had been as a prisoner, but apparently he’d known better service than many others in his position. He had saved the lives of more than one person, and the two investigators in charge were indebted to him for saving their lives too. Detective Chambers had been spared when his anti-ballistic vest had taken Samuel’s bullet, but without Joe Hunter’s selfless act — his civic duty — in taking out the gunman, who knew what might have happened? All charges against him had finally been dropped.