In the same moment, she realised Lottie’s eyes were open and looking right at her.
Riley she felt the hairs stir on the back of her neck, and fought the temptation to step away from the bed and move out of the line of those twin points of cold light. Was that a lingering malevolence she saw deep inside those eyes, a burning glow that was all too familiar? Or was it her imagination, giving the old woman an ability to express hatred even though she was this close to death? She glanced up at Mitcheson, who shook his head in surprise. He leaned over until he was looking right into Lottie’s eyes.
As Riley moved back, she fancied she saw a flicker of movement in Lottie’s face. But she couldn’t be sure. Whatever had happened inside the old woman’s head had plainly done enormous damage, either severing any recognition or memory of people she had once held in such contempt, or at least nullifying any chance of showing a reaction to their presence. So, that was that. Strange that it should all end with not even a whimper, let alone anything approaching the scream of ugly defiance they might have expected. If only her legion of old enemies could see her now. They’d probably start doing a jig around the room.
The squeak of footsteps approached along the corridor. Riley glanced at Mitcheson. ‘What do you think?’
He nodded. ‘End of the road. I can’t pretend I’m sorry.’
As they turned away, the hand lying on the bedspread suddenly moved. It was a brief spasm, the fingers scrunching the material into a knot, the knuckles white and tensed as if carved in marble. At the same time, a sound came from Lottie’s mouth, and her eyes flickered. For a split second, Riley thought the old woman was about to sit up and spew one final burst of venom and hate at the world in general, and them in particular. But the movement was over in a second, and her hand released its grip on the covers. With that, her body seemed to relax and shrink even further, and her eyes closed just as the door opened.
The staff nurse took a second to evaluate the situation, then hit a button on the wall before shooing Riley and Mitcheson out into the corridor. As they walked away, a flurry of figures hurried past them into the room, and the door closed with a final swish.
Five minutes later, the nurse approached, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘She’s gone. I’m sorry.’ She looked at the two of them. ‘Was she who you thought? Grossman, wasn’t that the name?’
Riley nodded. At least they had awarded Lottie the courtesy of having her name back, rather than going unknown into whatever private hell might await her. Not that she would have thanked them for it. In the absence of an address, they had put down the house she had once owned in Buckinghamshire. The police would soon make the connection.
‘Is there anyone we should notify?’ the nurse continued, reaching for a clipboard and pen. ‘Family members? Friends?’
Mitcheson place a hand on Riley’s arm. ‘No,’ he said simply, voice empty of emotion. ‘She wasn’t the type.’
Chapter 36
They waited for a cab outside the main entrance. After the stifling atmosphere of the wards and the heavy aura surrounding the late Lottie Grossman, the fresh air was a blessed relief.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Mitcheson asked.
‘I have to meet Palmer. There are some things to check about Radnor and his operation. What about you?’ She felt guilty, knowing the question implied that whatever she was going to do did not include him. But Mitcheson appeared not to notice.
‘I’m going back to the States tomorrow.’ He raised a hand as Riley began to protest. ‘It’s only for a few days, maybe a week, so I can tie up some loose ends. Then I’ll be back — I promise.’ He smiled and touched her face. ‘You don’t think I could give up being around you for too long, do you? Life’s too boring otherwise.’
‘All right. But stay in touch.’
‘I will.’
They said their goodbyes, then Mitcheson saw an empty cab about to leave and pulled away reluctantly. Riley waved him off, then rang Palmer.
‘Can you pick me up?’ she said, and gave him the address. Suddenly, without Mitcheson by her side, she felt surprisingly vulnerable.
Palmer must have sensed something in her voice. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Just hurry, will you?’
Fifteen minutes later, she and Palmer were on their way to Hayes. She related the scene with Lottie Grossman, after which Palmer gave a pragmatic shrug.
‘She’d have killed us, given the chance,’ he reminded her, steering skilfully round an indecisive learner-driver. ‘You shouldn’t feel anything but relief. But,’ he turned and gave her a knowing smile, ‘you know that.’
Riley decided to call Jimmy Gough and check the current situation at the office block. He agreed to call her back. When he did so five minutes later, it was with surprising news.
‘There are men in suits all over the place,’ he reported. ‘Most of them are on the first floor. Nobby says Azimtec have cleared out. Seems like they might have had a tip-off.’
Riley relayed the information to Palmer, who said, ‘Does he know where Radnor lives?’
‘The cops have been asking the same thing,’ said Jimmy in reply. Nobby says there’s no record.’
Riley thanked him for his help and switched off. She said to Palmer, ‘the watchers Charlie told us about jumped too late.’
Palmer nodded. ‘Or one of them gave Radnor the nod. He’s probably still got contacts on the inside. I doubt we’ll find anything at the VTS place, either, but it’s all we’ve got.’
‘Do you really think Radnor’s still around?’
‘Possibly. If he’s been bringing in arms, he’ll have prepared for the eventuality of something going wrong. It’s standard procedure: always have a fall-back situation, even if it means going to ground and abandoning everything.’
‘And?’
‘He’ll keep his head down long enough to gather his resources, then he’ll disappear. With his training, they’ll never find him.’
As they approached the VTS building, Palmer suddenly snapped his fingers. ‘Hang on. The taxi firm Radnor used. What was the name?’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t notice.’ She rang Jimmy Gough and asked him.
‘Easy,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘We always used the same firm — White Tower Cabs. They’re just round the corner.’ He reeled off the number from memory. ‘Ask for Poppy — she’s the owner. She owes me for all the business I put her way. If she get difficult, threaten her with a visit from the VAT people.’
Riley made the call, then got out of the car to join Palmer, who was surveying the commercial estate. They were parked just along the road from VTS, behind a large canvas-covered trailer. The area was quiet, with the same mix of cars, trucks and skips as before. The space in front of VTS was deserted and strewn with litter.
The roller shutter under the VTS sign was up, revealing an empty space with just a few scraps of paper and straw packaging gusting around the inside. Sparrows flew in and out, darting up to the steel roof beams and perching on the workbench to preen, already colonising the space while it was free of movement.
Palmer and Riley walked cautiously through the building and out the rear door to the back yard, where the drum that had held the papers Palmer had rescued was now cold and lifeless, still lying on its side. They checked the offices, but other than a mess of discarded documents, and the usual array of admin paperwork, now abandoned, there was nothing useful to be found.
‘SkyPrint?’ suggested Riley.
Palmer nodded and led the way to the SkyPrint unit, where he pushed through the front door into a small reception area with a counter across the back wall, and a single door. In the background was the hum of machinery. Clearly it was business as usual, whatever may have happened along the road. Riley rang a bell and they waited for someone to appear.
‘Can I help?’ A man in a blue shirt and jeans stepped through the door behind the counter. He had thinning hair and a double chin, and was wiping his hands on a cloth.