“What for?” I asked. “I already told you that I didn’t kill Claire. You don’t believe me. I think I know who did, but your chances of catching him are approaching zero about as rapidly as you’ll be approaching that river in a moment. I don’t kill people who don’t try and kill me, whereas my colleague Amber here has no such scruples. To her you’re just a dead weight, shortly to have the emphasis on dead.”
Sam started kicking again, “For God’s sake. It’ll be cold-blooded murder.”
“I don’t kill people who don’t try to kill me, but you’re not on that list, are you Sam? You’re the sort of guy who shoots someone through a coat. You leave them to bleed to death. We have nothing left to say. Amber’s right, the only thing left between us is a loose end. One that can easily be severed.”
“Wait! Wait! I can tell you something. I can.”
“What?”
“Not from down here. Haul me up. I’ll tell you if you get me up.”
“Naah,” I said. “You’re bluffing.” Amber’s grip slipped another inch. He screamed. She had hold of his foot now. I noticed the way the hairs on his legs were caught in her grip. That must be quite painful.
“No! They were spooks. They knew who you were. They told me about you. They said you’d killed her.”
“Who did, Sam? Who did?”
“They didn’t give names. Their type never do. For Christ’s sake, I’ll tell you everything, just get me up!”
“What do you think?” I asked Amber.
“I think he’d say anything right now,” she said. “He doesn’t yet realise that if he’s lying I’m going to toss him over again, and this time I’m not catching him.”
“I swear,” he said. “I’ll tell you it all. For God’s sake.”
“God won’t help you now,” I said. “Not in this world.” I could hear that he was telling the truth, though. He would tell us everything, and I needed to know.
“Get him up,” I said.
When Amber brought him up, I pulled off his coat and threw it over the parapet into the Thames. He watched it float out on the stiff breeze and then vanish. “That’s you if you don’t tell me everything I want to know,” I said.
“For fuck’s sake,” he said. He was shaking, and it wasn’t from cold.
“Watch your mouth,” I said, glancing at Amber. “You’d better learn to keep a civil tongue in your head if you want to live.”
Sam held the glass of whisky to his lips, his hands still shaking. We had adjourned to a pub, the Slug and Lettuce, part of a chain conveniently situated just near the old County Hall. We had followed Sam to the place, making it clear that he could run, but then Amber would have to hamstring him and carry him back to the bridge.
He was seated opposite me, nursing a triple scotch cupped between his hands.
“The meter’s running,” I reminded him.
He visibly tried to stem the trembling in his hands. “There were two of them,” he said. “There are always bloody two of them.” He looked between Amber and me. I waited for more.
“They came to me at work, arranged an interview room. It was official,” he said.
“Officially what?” I asked.
“They came to give me the news. They’d brought photos and everything — her face, lying in a pool of blood. The initial forensic analysis, before the autopsy. The death certificate — it said cause of death was loss of blood.”
“What did they want?” I asked him.
“They showed me a picture. It was a photo of you just outside the crime scene. You looked panicky, desperate. They asked me if I knew who you were.”
“And you told them you did.”
“You don’t tell that sort anything if you don’t have to. They told me what had happened, that there was no family, few friends. They asked me if I wanted to arrange a funeral. I didn’t see the point. They left me to it.”
“So how did you get the bullets?” I asked him.
“After they’d gone I started going through the files. I knew there was stuff on you. If I could find you then we could settle it for good. I went through everything I was cleared for.”
“And?”
“And then they came back. They knew I’d been through your files. They knew what I knew, and a lot more besides.”
“Did they say where they got that information?”
“Don’t be daft. They said you were a problem. They said you were a loose cannon and that sooner or later, someone would have to deal with you. I volunteered. They gave me the bullets. They were issued for the firearm I already had, so they’d done their research. I didn’t care. I just wanted you dead.” He stared at me, and there was hate in his eyes.
“I didn’t kill her,” I repeated, shaking my head.
“I don’t fucking care!” he shouted. “Ever since you arrived it’s all gone pear-shaped. Everything is screwed up and fucked over. If you didn’t kill her, then you made it happen, I just know it.”
I didn’t challenge that view. I wasn’t sure I could. “She knew it was risky,” I told him. “She was braver than you are.”
“Too fucking right,” he said, taking a good mouthful of scotch.
“What were their names?” I asked him.
“They didn’t introduce themselves. You learn not to ask too many questions.”
“So you have no idea who they were.”
“They knew what they were looking for, they had clearance to see what I was checking on the system, they had the authority to commandeer a meeting room. They were spooks. That’s all I needed to know.”
That didn’t sound quite as true as the rest of it. “If you start holding out on me, Sam, I’m going to leave you to Amber.” Amber smiled sweetly at him.
He sighed. “I overheard something between them. They were talking between themselves. They mentioned a couple of names.”
“What names.”
“A codename, and his secretary.”
Amber and I exchanged a glance. “Tell me.”
“I can’t remember. It wasn’t important.”
“Try and remember.”
“As I said, at the time it wasn’t important. An odd name, obviously a codeword, and some woman.”
“Was it Secretary Carler?” I asked him.
He looked up over the glass. “Yeah,” he said. “That was her. Carla, that was her name. You know her?”
Amber caught my eye and shook her head very slightly. I wasn’t ready to let it go, though.
“The other name, what was it?”
He shrugged. “I only remembered it because it was odd. It sounded like ‘deference’ — something like that. These guys love their codes and ciphers.”
“You’re going to do me a favour,” I told Sam.
“Like hell I am,” he said.
“The choice is simple. You can do what I ask and you walk. Either that, or I’m leaving you to Amber, and I won’t look back. Which is it?”
“You wouldn’t,” he said.
I stood up. “I can find him myself if I have to. It will take me longer, but I’ll do it.”
“Find who?” said Sam.
“Secretary Carler,” I told him. “It’s a he, not a she, and I think he and I need to chat.”
“Find him yourself; it’s nothing to do with me.”
“Fair enough. Amber, I’ve finished with him. He’s all yours.”
“Hey,” he said. “I told you everything I know. That was the deal.”
“No, Sam. The deal was that you get to live as long as you’re useful to me. You shot me. Twice. Now you find out the true cost of those two bullets.”
Amber took out a long knife. The edge glinted in the dim light of the bar.
“Hey!” he called. “You can’t leave me with her. She’s psychotic.”
“What did you say to me, Sam?” I called over my shoulder as I reached the door. “Enjoy the rest of your life, for the short time you have left.”
I left the pub and a moment later, Sam was dragged out of the door by Amber. He was swearing and kicking, but Amber was calm and relentless. Everyone in the bar carried on as if nothing was happening. They simply didn’t notice that someone was about to be murdered on their doorstep, even though he was screaming for help. She had his arm pinned behind his back and painfully twisted, and the long knife held up against his throat, restricting his ability to twist out of her grip without cutting his own throat. She marched him past me.