Читать книгу Broken Silence - Liz Mistry - Страница 15

It had taken Xavier over an hour to drive to the old farmhouse in the middle of the moors and it was only courtesy of his police scanner that he’d been able to avoid the patrol cars and the crime scene itself. He took a moment to get in character. His code name, Xavier, made him feel quite sophisticated. Xavier in the X-Men was a visionary … an intellectual … a leader – all the qualities he himself rated highly. He allowed himself a grin as he acknowledged that his aims were more in line with Magneto’s than Xavier’s. It amused him to subvert the idea of a superhero; after all, heroes were all in the eyes of their beholders, weren’t they?

Looking through the windscreen at the snow-covered yard, Xavier’s good humour dissipated a little. The weekend had started off fine … in fact, until this morning, it had been great. The Community Liaison Conference had been amusing. He’d been asked to speak at the session on modern-day slavery and that had given him a buzz. All those people from social services, policing, education, local government, politicians and the like hanging onto his every word. Then there was his down time … that had been satisfying, or rather she’d been satisfying.

When the phone call came, his rage had clouded his mind for a moment. Bloody Stefan Marcovici! Xavier made a point of not knowing their names – too bloody many of them to remember anyway – but Stefan Marcovici had become a risk to the entire operation and so Xavier had to sanction drastic action. That in itself didn’t bother him. No, what bothered him was that he’d not been there to witness it, but Cyclops, his right-hand man was right. Bullet and his cronies could deal with it. In fact, they’d enjoy it. Besides which, he needed to distance himself from this and just as well, because now he had these two fools and their mess to deal with and that was on top of the existing problem of Adam Glass’s betrayal. Seemed like trouble did come in threes, but by the end of the night his minions would have cleaned it all up and it would be back to business as usual.

The one sensible thing the idiots had managed since picking up the bint who was following them, was to get as far away from the scene as possible and head for safe house number two. Why they’d shot her, he didn’t know, and why they’d decided it was best to throw her in the back of the van and cart her here was beyond him. That’s what comes when you have to rely on lowlifes. He inhaled deeply and took a moment, releasing his breath slowly.

Now that he’d switched off his headlights, the only light source was the moon and the few stars visible between the snow-heavy clouds. It was like some dystopian wilderness and that was just what he wanted; silence with no nosey parkers around to meddle.

No sign of the van, so they must have hidden it in one of the outbuildings. Smart move. Not that there were many passers-by, but best to be safe. They’d done well, he supposed, to black-out the windows. No light escaped from the sides and the gas heaters they’d transported up weeks ago negated the need for an open fire and the subsequent telltale smoke. To the casual eye, the building and outbuildings looked deserted, just as they should. He’d chosen this old house because of its location. Far enough from the touristy moorland walks, yet not so far that he couldn’t have the goods transported to anywhere in the district in record time. His men had been trained to be on the lookout for over-curious nosey parkers and as per his instructions, none of his deserted properties were used to store his assets for more than a few weeks at a time.

He employed a random rotation model that had served him well: neither his rivals nor the authorities had shown any interest in his doings so far. He smiled. Even if they had, he was so far removed from the dirty end of things that nothing could be traced back to him. Even the goons inside were unaware of his true identity and that was the way he intended to keep it. What was it they called it? Plausible deniability?

Before exiting his ‘borrowed’ vehicle, he got his game face on. Well, actually it was a balaclava, but it served the same purpose. He wasn’t exactly pissed off by what had happened today. Other than a minor inconvenience for himself and the waste of a Sunday afternoon that could have been better spent screwing his mistress, it was mere irritation, but combined with the other stuff, it niggled. Not because he personally felt under threat – he was secure in the knowledge that nothing could end up at his doorstep – but because he hated incompetence, hated needless complications. In his experience, complications left to their own devices could unravel and that’s why he’d elected to come here himself. If he couldn’t deal with Marcovici, he could deal with this cock-up … make sure it was tied up with no loose threads.

However, he had a role to play and play it he must. The fact that he enjoyed taking on a bullying persona was just an added bonus. He stepped out of the vehicle into a couple of inches of snow, glad that he’d changed his clothes before heading off here. Even without the snow, none of his premises were what you’d call muck-free and as he found himself up to his ankles in mucky slush, he grimaced before heading to the door and rapping three times.

The door opened a crack to reveal a wide-eyed Danny Boy. Immediately the door opened all the way to allow him access. ‘Hi, boss.’

The lad’s tone was high pitched and the way his pistol shook, despite being pointed at the ground, betrayed his nervousness. The X-Man smiled. It was always good to keep them on edge. No point in letting them get complacent. They needed to know exactly who was boss. He grunted and brushed past the lad making his way into the dimly lit living room where Danny Boy’s brother, Jason was huddled on a rickety wooden chair in front of the heater. Jason jumped to his feet as soon as the door opened, casting a nervous glance at his brother.

The two of them were fairly new recruits and this was their first solo job. The fact that it had gone so awry was clearly making them antsy and Xavier intended to capitalize on that. ‘Tell me!’

As Xavier grabbed the chair, whipped it round and straddled it backwards, Danny shuffled over next to his brother. ‘We picked up the package like we were supposed to and were heading to the safe house to await further instructions. Then Jase noticed we were being followed, like. She kept coming up close and then lagging behind and then right up close again. She were on her phone and …’

‘You panicked?’

Relief flooded Jason’s face as he nodded.

Keeping his tone conversational, Xavier inclined his head slightly to one side. ‘And do I pay you to panic?’

Again, the boys exchanged worried glances and Xavier had to swallow a chuckle. This was such fun. He hardened his tone. ‘Then what happened?’

Words splurged out of Jason’s mouth like diarrhoea in a shithouse. ‘We braked really hard and she rammed into the back of us and Danny got out of the van and shot her. But she wun’t dead and then we saw that the package had punched out the back light.’ He gulped in a breath before continuing. ‘And so we shoved her in the back with him and kicked him a few times till he conked out. Then we came here instead of the first safe house.’

‘Why did you do that?’ Xavier jumped to his feet, his body full of bristling anger as he paced the room, nervous energy zapping off him like thunderbolts as he moved. The two idiots in front of him had no idea what to tell him … no idea at all. That’s what happened when you relied on inexperienced yokels. They made mistakes and then had no idea how to rectify them, so instead they compounded them.

‘What possessed you to bring her with you?’

Danny Boy bit his lip, like a 2-year-old. ‘Thought she might talk otherwise? Thought it best to keep her close, like.’

Give me strength. ‘And who is she?’

This time the colour drained from Danny’s face and Xavier thought he was going to be sick, so he looked at Jason. ‘Well?’

Jason blinked. ‘Dunno.’

Lowering his voice till it was barely a whisper, Xavier, punctuated each word with a pause. ‘You … don’t … know?’

Both men shook their heads and Xavier jumped to his feet, sending the chair toppling across the floor and began pacing. They’d had one simple transportation job to do. Not rocket science, not complex, not requiring more than a half-functioning brain and yet still they’d messed up. Messed up big time. Okay, so it wasn’t disastrous, but they didn’t know that. They had to be taught a lesson. Mistakes could be fatal and they needed to learn not to make any more. He stopped pacing and spun round to glare at them. The younger one backed up a step, glancing at his brother, looking for guidance.

‘It’s stupidity that gets us into this sort of mess. Things have been under the wire and I’d intended to keep it that way until we had full control. Now you imbeciles have scuppered that. Now we have to react and if there’s one thing I hate doing it’s reacting. Reacting implies a lack of control. Reacting adds variables over which we have no control.’

He glared at the vacant looks on the boys’ faces. Before this day was over, they would no longer be reacting, they would have learned their lesson … the hard way.

Xavier kicked the toppled chair and it crashed against the wall, making the brothers jump. ‘Take me to them.’

It was almost comical the way they scampered to the door, in their willingness to please. ‘They’re in the van in the barn.’

Xavier smiled. He’d already decided that they needed to dispose of Glass, after all it was his stupidity in trying to escape that had landed them here in the first place. Now that they’d got the bank account codes off him there was no need to keep him alive. How he’d had the gall to syphon money from his deals, Xavier couldn’t understand. The idiot would pay dearly for trying to cheat him, but perhaps nature would have done its job and the cheat may have frozen to death. That still left the problem of the woman … but hell … they’d just have to dump the bodies separately.

Using torches, the three men made their way through a fine drizzle of rain to the ramshackle old barn. Xavier was pleased to see that despite the isolated location, they’d still padlocked the doors shut. Maybe they weren’t quite as useless as he’d first thought. Perhaps he’d give them the benefit of the doubt this time. After all, he, Xavier, was nothing if not merciful and help was hard to come by these days.

Danny Boy opened the back door and Xavier jumped up. His torch danced over the male body sprawled near to the door.

‘What you waiting for? Get the fuck up here. Find out if he’s still with us. Then get the body disposed of. Get a move on.’

Jason jumped up. ‘Yes, boss.’

‘He dead?’ Xavier’s tone was hopeful.

Jason went over and held two fingers on the man’s neck, before looking up at his boss, shaking his head. ‘Nope, still alive.’

Ah well, that wouldn’t last. Xavier turned to the other figure, his torch dancing over her face taking in her blood-soaked coat and blouse, the paleness of her face. Shit! It’s her! Would you fucking believe it? ‘She’s a pig, you idiots.’

Jason placed his fingers on her neck, then looked up, all colour wiped from his face. ‘Aw crap, boss. She’s a dead pig.’

Dumping the body of a lowlife was one thing but killing a police officer and then disposing of her was another. Xavier didn’t feel quite as generous towards his two goons, now that he saw the extent of the mess they’d created. But he had more to worry about … much more. He couldn’t be sure that there was no forensic link back to him. The last thing he needed was to be drawn into the investigation of a murdered police officer and held up to any sort of public scrutiny. Not when he had a family and a legitimate job as well as his other sidelines to consider. ‘You got a spot in mind?’

‘Leave that to me and Jase. We’ve got the dump spot all sorted, like. We won’t let you down. Not again.’

‘They both need to be disposed of. But separately. She needs to be dumped where she won’t be found for months – the middle of the moors or somewhere. And him …’ Xavier kicked the prone man. ‘Finish him. And make sure you use the usual forensic measures – yeah?’

‘Eh?’ Jason looked puzzled, but his brother nudged him and said, ‘Bleach, ya tosser. Bleach.’

‘Okay, I’m counting on you. Get on with it.’