‘He got in our way. He went down.’ He gestured at his headset. ‘I’m told there are two more down — one of them an own goal.’ He smiled as if it was all in a day’s work. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll clear up before we leave.’
Palmer remembered the sound of footsteps charging down the back stairs, and wondered if Varley was the own goal. ‘It might have helped if you’d done that first, don’t you think?’ He couldn’t help it; with the other two men on the loose, getting back down the stairs with Fedorov in tow might have proved more of a problem than Koenig had imagined. Earlier intervention might also have helped Riley get clear and away.
‘Sorry — we had our orders.’ Koenig gestured with his weapon. ‘Anyway, we had a man stationed outside to take care of any strays.’ He paused at the door and added, ‘Tell Miss Gavin she’s welcome back in any of the company’s stores, anytime. That’s from the boss.’
‘Gee, she’ll be so made up.’
‘There’s one condition.’
‘She stops using Tesco bags?’
‘She destroys the notes. All of them. She’ll know the ones I mean.’
Palmer pursed his lips. If they were asking this, it seemed clear that the rumours nust have some substance. Not that he thought Riley was going to do anything about it. ‘She might not agree.’
Koenig looked sceptical. ‘She’s not going to use them — if she was, she’d have done it already. It’s hardly her thing, is it?’ He smiled knowingly. ‘Anyway, we’ve already got the rest from the hotel at Lancaster Gate.’
Then he was gone.
48
‘Shush.’Szulu touched a warning finger to Riley’s lips. They were crouched in the dark of the doorway where he’d dragged her after her escape from the building. There was a smell of rotten fruit and urine, and something scuttled away through a tangle of discarded paper. ‘Stay still.’
Riley batted his hand away. ‘Don’t shush me, you moron,’ she snapped, and felt instantly ashamed of herself. He hadn’t exactly been forced at gunpoint to wait for her to come out. Well, not this time, anyway. He could have done his bit and simply disappeared back to his safer life of driving a mini-cab.
She touched his shoulder. ‘Sorry. That was crappy of me. I always feel cranky after I’ve been tied to a chair and tortured. You did brilliantly. Thanks.’
‘No sweat. Did you say torture? Like what?’
‘Boiling water. Bleach. That kind of thing.’ She said it quickly, preferring not to dwell on what might have been if Var-Vassiliyev hadn’t come along at the right moment. And Palmer.
‘No way!’ Szulu sounded impressed. ‘Shit. They wasn’t messin’, then.’
‘No, they wasn’t.’ Riley gritted her teeth, trying to shut her mind against just how serious they had been. To add to it, now that she wasn’t running for her life, the pain was kicking in again.
Suddenly an engine roared and a van took off from the kerb and swerved into the car park.
‘It’s those blokes I told you about,’ said Szulu excitedly. ‘They left a guy outside.’
The driver stopped sideways on and close to the main doors of the building, just as all the lights on the ground floor went out. Apart from the faint wash of light from other buildings and passing traffic, it left the area around the entrance in near-darkness.
Szulu inched forward for a better view. ‘They went in after me and Palmer did our bit,’ he explained. ‘I don’t know who they are, but they’re on the same side as us.’ He looked around, ‘Must be something nasty about to happen.’
‘What makes you say that?’ said Riley.
He pointed to a nearby street light, which was out. ‘They’ve disabled the lights. They were working earlier. How would they do that?’
‘Maybe they shot them out.’
Szulu scowled at her. ‘You obsessed with guns, lady,’ he warned her. ‘You need to talk to somebody about that.’
Riley hissed a warning as a tall, slim figure stepped out of the main door towards the van and opened the nearest side door, moving briefly through the wash of the van’s brake lights. She couldn’t see his face, but she recognised something about the way he carried himself. It was Koenig, Al-Bashir’s security man.
‘Stay here,’ Szulu said. ‘I’m just going for a closer look.’
‘No way — I’m coming, too.’ Riley hustled after him, and they made their way across the road and skipped over the low wall into one corner of the car park. As they settled down to watch, two men moved quickly out of the entrance carrying something between them. They dumped the object in the van and went back inside. They came back with another load, then another.
On the fourth trip, as they moved through the lobby area, the driver, who had stepped out of the van, jumped back in and touched the brake lights. The glow was enough for Riley and Szulu to see that the load they were carrying was a man’s body, with one arm hanging down.
Riley felt the hairs move on the back of her neck. ‘What are they going to do with them?’ she whispered.
‘They clearin’ up the mess,’ Szulu replied knowingly. ‘No bodies, no proof.’ He sounded worried, though, and Riley caught the tension in his voice.
‘What’s up?’
Szulu shook his head slowly, the dreadlocks skimming against Riley’s face. ‘That’s four down.’
‘So?’
‘I counted five. At the hotel and here. There’s one missing.’
‘Are you sure?’ She remembered the body she’d seen at the rear of the lobby. That must have been one of the four they had just carried out.
‘Definite. There was a short one, like this monster body-builder.’
‘His name’s Pechov. Palmer took care of him.’
‘Yeah? Cool. Then there was two taller guys, and a big dude in some fancy threads. I think he was the boss.’
Vasiliyev. Riley didn’t say anything.
‘And there was a little guy with a bald head,’ Szulu continued. ‘I ain’t seen no bald head yet.’
‘Or Frank Palmer.’ Riley felt sick. Wherever Palmer was, she had to believe he was still inside and safe. Palmer wouldn’t give up easily. The always laid back, often irritating but mostly sweet former military cop just wouldn’t let himself be overcome like that. He was indestructible.
The men ducked back inside the building, leaving the driver in the van, watching the car park and the street. For one moment, it seemed as if he was staring right at them.
Szulu gave a soft hiss and froze, his hand gripping Riley’s arm in warning.
‘What’s wrong?’ Riley whispered. ‘I thought you said they were the good guys.’
‘I did. But that don’t mean they’d be stoked with anyone seeing them movin’ a bunch of dead bodies around, does it?’
There was a movement at the entrance, and the other men re-appeared. This time, they had a figure sandwiched between them. He was on his feet, but seemed reluctant to go with them. For the last couple of yards, the men picked him up and carried him. They pushed him inside and closed the door.
Seconds later, they were gone, leaving just a wisp of exhaust smoke hanging in the air.
Riley and Szulu waited, both thinking the worst.
Then, from behind them, Frank Palmer’s voice drifted out of the dark. ‘Are you two girls staying here all night? Only I’m gagging for a pizza.’
49
Three days later, with the pain from her burns slowly receding, Riley held a planning meeting with Mr Grobowski.
The surgery had called to say that there was a problem with the cat: he was howling so loudly, he was keeping the other resident animals awake. They would consider an early release, but on condition that someone would be able to look after him and change his dressings.
‘Is not a problems, Miss Riley,’ the elderly Pole boomed eagerly when she told him. ‘You bring him homes and I be his nurses for as long as it takes.’ He paused uncertainly. ‘Is okay with you, of course?’
‘Of course it is, Mr G. You know Lipinski — he’s a free agent. If it hadn’t been for your magic meatballs, he’d never have survived.’