Riley returned his look with a steady eye, hoping this wasn’t all about to go wrong. ‘It wasn’t Palmer,’ she replied. ‘It was another one. He was protecting me, that’s all. Szulu was lucky to come out with a small hole in his arm.’
But Ragga waved a dismissive hand and sat forward. ‘Shit, isn’t nothing for me to worry about. Szulu carries a gun, it’s his own fault if it goes off pointing the wrong way.’ He glanced at Slam and tapped his forefinger against his lip, the main man coming to an important decision in front of a junior employee. ‘Okay. Here’s how it is. And I’m doing this because I can do without the hassle right now, understand? I got business to attend to, and I don’t need distractions.’
‘I understand — and I’m grateful.’
‘Yeah, right. The old woman, she’s no longer…what shall we call it — a cause for concern.’
‘I see.’ Riley was careful not to react. Ragga spoke of Lottie Grossman’s fate as if it was no more serious than a bout of ‘flu.
‘Now, you’re thinking I killed her, right? You’re wrong, lady — I didn’t need to. She went and had a heart attack or something.’ He sat back and gestured towards his colleague. ‘Slam played the good Samaritan, took her to hospital. Told them he’d seen her fall over in the street and was doing his good deed for the day. What did they say to you, Slam?’
‘Took her to casualty,’ explained Slam economically, his voice like gravel in a bucket. ‘They took her in and worked on her. She in a bad way.’ He shrugged as if taking sick old ladies to hospital was the kind of thing he did on a regular basis. ‘I came away.’
‘So you see,’ said Ragga, ‘that’s the end of your problem. End of mine, too. She’s probably dead by now. You can check with the hospital, if you like. Ashford’s the place.’ He stared at her. ‘You wondering why I’m telling you this?’
‘You mean, apart from the fact that you don’t want the hassle?’
He grinned. ‘Because I’m feeling good today, that’s why. Grossman made a big down payment for my help. A kind of goodwill fee cum non-returnable deposit, seeing as how I didn’t know her. It was the only way I’d do business with a stranger like her. Now she’s out of it, I get to keep it.’ He shrugged. ‘So I’m ahead of the game.’ He sat back and sighed. ‘Slam’ll show you out.’
Riley rose, feeling a sense of relief. Then Ragga pointed a stubby finger at her, and gave her a look that froze her to the spot. ‘Know this, however: in case you’re considering it, Riley Gavin, don’t you never think of writing up no newspaper story about me, like you did Lottie Grossman. You do that, I’ll come visiting you… and your little cat.’ He bared his teeth and sat back again. ‘And one thing I promise you, lady: neither you nor any of your soldier friends will see me coming. You hear?’
Chapter 35
An hour later, Riley and Mitcheson were in the intensive care unit of Ashford hospital, waiting for an overworked staff nurse to let them see Lottie Grossman. The ward smelled of over-heated air and a tang of bleach, and had an atmosphere of intense but fragile calm, like the aftermath of a car crash moments before the victims realise what happened and begin to panic.
‘If you’re not family, I can’t admit you,’ the young Australian nurse repeated, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry.’ Each utterance ended on an up-note, as if she were asking questions. She checked her watch and muttered beneath her breath. Clearly she was approaching the end of her shift and wanted shot of these two.
‘I understand that, I really do,’ said Riley. Having to bite back a feeling of irritation wasn’t entirely a pretence; they had told the nurse they were looking for an elderly neighbour who’d wandered off. Playing the part came surprisingly easy, faced with such staunch bureaucracy. ‘But if she is our neighbour, we can confirm her identity, can’t we? If not… well, what have you lost? Please. We’re desperately worried about her.’ She eyed the nurse intently, hoping compassion and common sense would penetrate her rulebook armour. At least she had confirmed that an elderly woman brought in by a passing motorist carried no form of identification, and appeared to be suffering from a stroke. Unfortunately, the motorist hadn’t hung around, so they couldn’t even confirm where she had been picked up.
A bell pinged in the background, and a porter came skimming along the corridor with a gurney. A shrill voice cried out behind a door further along, and a nurse came bustling out, shaking her head, the front of her uniform drenched with something dark and heavy.
‘Wait here.’ The staff nurse hurried away, leaving them in limbo, yet desperate to go inside and confirm what they expected to see.
‘So what exactly did you have in that bag?’ Riley asked Mitcheson. It was the first opportunity she’d had of broaching the subject after leaving Ragga’s place. After a quick consultation with Palmer to show they were all right, they let him use Riley’s car to take Szulu home and grabbed a cab for Ashford Hospital. On the way, Riley had clutched Mitcheson’s hand. They had said little, each wondering what they would find when they saw Lottie.
‘Nothing much,’ he said. ‘A couple of flash-bangs — stun devices — hidden inside spray cans of polish.’ He reached into his jacket and produced the feather duster, which had an aluminium handle. ‘And this.’ He twisted the handle and discarded the feathered end, revealing a long spike with a lethal point. ‘I called a mate who makes security equipment. It was all he could come up with at short notice. Fortunately, Ragga’s people weren’t as efficient as they might have been.’
Riley looked at him and wondered if anything ever fazed this man. ‘I was glad you were there. Szulu said Ragga was unpredictable; he was right.’ She told him of Ragga’s final threat if she ever wrote about him.
Mitcheson nodded. ‘Just stay off his radar and he’ll forget all about you. If he doesn’t,’ he added, ‘let me know.’
Before Riley could comment, the staff nurse returned. ‘Okay, I’ll let you see her. But only because we need to know who she is.’ She turned and led them along the corridor, her heels squeaking on the polished floor. They stopped outside a side ward, where the nurse pushed open the door and signalled for them to go inside.
‘Two minutes. I’ll be at the desk.’ She nodded and hurried away, letting the door swing shut behind her.
Riley stepped up to the bed, ignoring the cluster of tubes, wires and machinery at its head. A faint hum filled the air, and a low beeping sound came from a small monitor. She had a vague thought about how much power was being generated through all this equipment for such an evil old woman, and whether the nurse, if she knew Lottie’s background, would approve.
The figure under the covers looked tiny and frail, more like a child than an adult. But the lined face was instantly familiar, the contours little changed since Riley had last seen her. Thinner, maybe, with more crepe-like sagging of the skin around the throat, but that could have been the effects of lying down coupled with the stroke. A smear of vivid lipstick was still evident at the corner of her mouth beneath the oxygen tube, and one hand lay curled like a frozen claw on the bedspread, the nails heavy with the glossy red polish that Riley remembered. There was no breathing movement beneath the covers, and Riley thought for a moment that Lottie had already gone.
She leaned closer, aware of Mitcheson moving in on the other side, and listened. Nothing at first. Then she heard a faint hiss of breath and smelled a sourness in the air around Lottie’s face. She felt nauseous and pulled away, her every instinct railing against being too close to this woman for a second longer than necessary.