Читать книгу Best of British Crime 3 E-Book Bundle - Mark Sennen, Paul Finch, Mark Sennen - Страница 32

They ran north up Kingston Road, crossed the river at Teddington Lock and only slowed to a walk when they reached Petersham Road. By now they were sweaty-faced and panting. The few late evening pedestrians gave them a wide berth.

‘Why did you hesitate like that?’ Lauren asked.

Heck shook his head.

‘You’re not going to start going barmy on me, I hope?’

‘He was there, wasn’t he? Right there, right in our grasp. If we’d jumped him then, it could’ve been the key to everything.’

‘You’re kidding, right? You saw the way he beat the shit out of those idiots in Salford. Besides, it sounded like he was armed.’

‘Yeah, that might’ve been a problem. But we could still have nabbed him if we’d been canny. The thing is … it’s not him we’re after. It’s whoever’s paying him.’

They were now entering Richmond. At weekend these privileged streets would be alive with well-heeled revellers, even late at night. But midweek it was quiet, its jazzy bars and swish restaurants closed and silent. A mist was forming, rolling in from the river. They glanced behind them a couple of times, but there was no sign anyone was following.

‘This is a lot bigger than I thought, Lauren,’ Heck said. ‘This guy, Deke … I don’t think he’s just some brainless bit of underworld muscle. I think he’s a hit-man. A proper one, a pro.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Doesn’t it make sense, with the weapons he had? The fact that he’s ex-special forces supports that theory.’

‘In which case, doesn’t it rule him out of our investigation?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘But we’re just looking for a missing woman.’

‘Look, Lauren …’ He mopped his sweat-damp hair from his forehead as they walked. ‘There’s something you need to know … I haven’t been entirely straight with you about this. I’m not just investigating Genene’s abduction. A whole bunch of women have gone missing in similar circumstances in the last few years. Genene’s only one of them.’

She glanced sidelong at him, at first looking as if she didn’t quite know how to react. ‘You mean … you mean this is some kind of serial killer?’

‘I don’t know. I considered that possibility at first, but we’ve never found any bodies. You understand that what I’m telling you here is classified? You can’t go spreading it around.’

‘Who am I going to spread it to, Heck?’ She blew out a long, slow breath. ‘That’s not good news, but I don’t suppose I should be any more upset than I was before. All respect to these other birds, Genene is still my priority. But just out of interest, how many are we talking?’

‘Upwards of thirty.’

‘Jesus Christ!’

‘Maybe more.’

‘And this Shane Klim is the one who’s …’

‘He’s probably not been acting alone. It’s increasingly difficult to see how anyone could be doing this alone. And now we know that a professional hit-man is involved … I mean, that puts it into a different category altogether.’ Heck rubbed at the back of his neck. ‘Always assuming I’m on the right track. This is all still theory, I’m afraid. If it’s wrong, and we’ve blundered into some totally different criminal conspiracy, I’m back to square one in a big way.’

‘But like you say, you’ve got to chase every lead right to the end, no matter how slender?’

‘Yes.’

Lauren looked thoughtful as they strode. ‘Heck … just tell me this. If it turns out that you have blundered into something else, some other naughty business Ron O’Hoorigan had knowledge of – and it’s got nothing to do with Genene or these other women, and you’ve been barking up completely the wrong tree – you’re not just going to give up on them?’

‘No. Of course not.’

‘You are going to find them?’

‘Or find what happened to them, yeah.’

She stopped him mid-stride, fixing him with a near-luminous stare. ‘Promise me that, Heck. We’re not doing all this for nothing? You’re not just gonna give up?’

Heck was quite sincere when he replied: ‘That’s something I can always promise.’

She nodded, and followed him as he headed into Richmond tube station. ‘Where we going, anyway?’

‘East,’ he said.

‘You know somewhere we can stay tonight?’

‘I’ve got a vague idea.’

‘It’s just that I’ve got mates all over London. We can crash with one of them.’

He shook his head. ‘Our lot’ll be after you for sure by now. All your known associates will be under surveillance.’

‘So where are we going?’

‘Leave it to me.’

They caught the District Line and rode to Embankment, where they changed to the Bakerloo and headed south again into dingier districts. At this late hour, the train was otherwise empty, and strewn with the debris of the day’s passengers: sweet wrappers, Styrofoam cups, discarded newspapers.

‘Won’t Deke just move his base of operations now he knows we’re onto him?’ Lauren asked.

Heck shrugged. ‘Maybe. But that’s something he won’t be able to do quickly or easily. Even if he does, he won’t be able to go far.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we’ve got this.’ He reached under his sweatshirt and produced a book – it was the leather-bound ledger from Ezekial’s loft.

‘Bloody hell!’ she said.

‘It couldn’t be bloodier for him. This amounts to a detailed list of the very, very serious crimes he’s committed.’

‘So he’s going to come after us?’

‘He’s already after us, Lauren. But now it’s personal. In fact, it’s more than personal. If he wants this back, it won’t just be a simple matter of putting the knuckle on us – he’ll have to make a deal.’

‘Or alternatively he’ll scarper for good. You take that to the law now, and they’ve got him.’

‘Not quite.’ They’d now arrived at Elephant & Castle, so Heck slid the book out of sight again and they stepped from the train. ‘We stole it during a burglary, remember. It’s inadmissible as evidence, and Deke knows it. He also knows that, when push comes to shove, we want his paymasters more than we want him.’

‘You really think he’ll be prepared to trade them?’

‘He may have no choice. At present, his arse is in a sling.’

They left the station. Whereas Richmond’s sedate streets had been settling down for the night, this part of London – Southwark – was still noisy with traffic, honking horns and belligerent, drunken shouts. They turned left under a brick arch, and followed a narrow side passage.

‘I can’t believe it’ll be that straightforward,’ Lauren said. ‘We’ve hurt him bad, and you know what they say about wounded animals.’

‘Speaking of which …’

The passage now became a tunnel, and led to a tall steel door. A weak bulb illuminated it, showing where blue paint had flaked away, exposing the raw metal beneath. It had the look of a service entrance, as if it had once connected to a warehouse or factory. The bulb over the lintel buzzed and flickered, threatening to plunge them into blackness.

‘What’s this place?’ she asked.

‘A drinking den,’ Heck said. ‘A card school … a knocking shop. Hopefully our lodgings for the night.’

He hammered on the metal with his fist. It reverberated deep inside, as though through vast, empty chambers. There was no immediate response, so he hammered again.

Lauren glanced behind them uneasily: the tunnel dwindled off into shadow; a mouse scurried across it. ‘Who the hell lives in a place like this?’

‘An old acquaintance of mine,’ Heck replied. ‘Someone you thought you were going to have a chat with yourself at one time. His name’s Bobby Ballamara.’