Nick Oldham - One Dead Witness

Tapperman pulled his toe away. ‘I know where she is — at Steve Kruger’s house. But you won’t be able to call there because his phone has been disconnected since he died. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the message?’

Erica relayed the message she had taken earlier from Felicity Bussola.

‘ Jesus Christ!’ Tapperman gasped. ‘Leave it with me… Harry!’ He called over to another detective. ‘Take over, I gotta go!’

‘ I’ll come straight to the point,’ Ira Begin said. He and Myrna were in the dining room, sat at the table opposite each other. He lifted his briefcase onto the table and took out a plastic wallet. ‘You are presently protecting a witness by the name of Tracey Greenwood?’ It was a statement and question combined. He raised his eyebrows to invite a reply. None came.

Begin shrugged amicably. ‘I know she is here, whether or not you wish to admit it.’

How, you bastard? Myrna’s mind screeched. Who could have told you she was here?

‘ Now you know as well as I do that I could simply walk in here with a show of force and take her away, probably hurting people like yourself in the process. I don’t wish to do that because I like win-win situations, where everybody comes out with some profit. The lawyer in me likes to negotiate, so I have a proposition for you.’

‘ I can’t wait.’

‘ In this wallet I have copies of certain documents that, if they were made public and sent to the right people — the IRS, the FBI, CIA, your customers, even… would destroy Kruger Investigations.’ Begin opened the wallet and shook out a sheaf of papers. He placed them on the table and fanned them out. ‘They relate to a very illegal business transaction in which Kruger Investigations acted as agents to supply certain goods to enemies of the USA.’

‘ Cut to the chase.’

‘ Hand the girl over and I will ensure you receive the originals of these documents within the hour. Then we shall both be happy. You won’t have this hanging over your head like the Sword of Damocles and the girl will not be a thorn in our side.’

‘ And what about her? Where does she stand in this win-win situation?’

‘ She loses.’

‘ And if I don’t agree?’

‘ I’ll take her by force, kill you if necessary, but if I don’t kill you, I’ll ruin Kruger Investigations just for fun.’

‘ Shit, Myrna, answer the godamned phone!’ Tapperman was driving maniacally, steering with one hand, mobile crushed to his ear by his free hand. He swerved dangerously, in and out of traffic, accelerating and braking madly, yelling obscenities at all other road-users.

‘ How much time do I have to think?’

Ira Begin made a show of checking his watch. ‘Not long.’

Myrna stood up. ‘Let me have a few minutes. I need to go over this in my head.’

‘ Sure, fine, Mrs Rosza, but don’t do anything rash like call the cops.’

‘ As if.’

She left the room and walked quickly into the kitchen where Danny waited apprehensively.

‘ Where the hell’s my phone?’ Myrna demanded.

‘ Out by the pool, I think.’

She ran out and picked it up off the coffee table and started to dial. Danny was behind her. ‘What’s going on, Myrna?’

‘ Why the hell is this thing not working?’ Myrna looked at the machine and realised the battery was dead. She did a quick exchange for one in her purse. Immediately, she thumbed the power button, the phone rang.

‘ Yes?’ she answered cautiously.

It was Mark Tapperman. Myrna listened as he shouted to her to get the hell out of the house.

‘ It’s too late, Mark. Begin’s already here and by assumption he’s probably got back-up stashed away nearby.’

‘ I’ll try and get a team there myself,’ Tapperman yelled, then, ‘Oh shit!’

There was a loud crash and Myrna held the phone away from her ear. ‘Mark, you okay?’

‘ Yeah, yeah, f’Christ’s sake. I’ve just hit a parked car. You try and get outta there, Myrna. I’ll do my best to get a SWAT team to you, or something.’ He ended the call.

Myrna eyed Danny. ‘Bussola wants Tracey, the easy way or the hard way. I can’t give her to him, Danny. I don’t know what the hell to do.’

‘ You go back and keep Begin talking,’ Danny said, getting her brain into gear. ‘I’ll nip upstairs and get Tracey. Have you got the keys for that car on the drive?’

‘ The Chevy? Yeah — hung up in the kitchen.’

‘ Right — I’ll get Tracey into the van while you talk to Begin. When she’s there I’ll come and get you and we’ll make a run for it. How does that sound?’

‘ Like shit, Danny — but it’s better than anything I can think of at this moment in time. Can you use a gun, Danny?’

The English detective nodded unsurely as Myrna told her where Steve Kruger kept the firearms in his bedroom.

‘ This was supposed to be a jolly,’ Danny said to herself as she sneaked quietly upstairs and went into Steve Kruger’s bedroom. ‘Not a fucking Wild West show.’ She opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet as instructed and found Kruger’s snub-nosed. 38 special. She tucked it very carefully into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back.

Next she went to the wardrobe where she found two more weapons, shaking her head in astonishment on seeing them. ‘Just what sort of a country have I come to?’ she asked herself.

One of the guns was a pistol, the other a Heckler amp; Kock sub-machine pistol, very light, accurate and deadly. It looked thoroughly evil to Danny. She put the small pistol down her waistband next to the revolver and dropped the HK into her holdall.

Then she went to collect Tracey.

‘ I want the originals in my hand before I give up the girl,’ Myrna bluffed to Begin.

‘ That will not be possible,’ he said. ‘I am a man of honour; as I said, you will have the originals delivered to you within an hour of me taking possession of the girl. Trust me.’

Myrna leaned back, pretending to consider this. In reality she was straining to hear outside the dining-room door, trying to judge where Danny was up to with Tracey.

‘ You keep very, very quiet,’ Danny hissed. ‘Believe me, your life depends on it, so does mine and so does Myrna’s.’

The girl was compliant, terrified.

Danny crept downstairs ahead of her, into the hallway and to the front door, passing the dining room on the way.

From the front door it was less than twelve feet to the Chevrolet. Danny looked at the keys in her hand and her heart sank when she saw the remote-control locking fob. She pointed it at the car and held her breath, hoping it would not make too much of a noise.

There was a loud squeak as the alarm was deactivated and the doors unlocked.

Danny paused, expecting a reaction. Nothing happened.

She walked confidently to the car, her eyes taking in everything there was to be seen up and down the cul-de-sac — including the two sedans parked a hundred yards away, each packed with muscle. Danny swallowed. She opened the rear door and beckoned Tracey to get in.

‘ Lie down across the seat and don’t move,’ Danny instructed her harshly. She jumped into the driver’s seat, threw her holdall into the passenger footwell and started the engine.

Once she was happy it was ticking over nicely, she ran back to the house.

Myrna winced when she heard Kruger’s car squawk like a parrot, and eyed Begin in readiness for a reaction.

He simply sat staring at Myrna, not in the least suspecting what was going on.

‘ Okay,’ Myrna said with a sigh, apparently reaching a decision. She leaned forwards. ‘I’ll do it.’

Begin beamed the smile of the modest victor. ‘You’ve seen sense,’ he patronised.

The door crashed open and Danny came into the room like a whirlwind, snub-nosed revolver in her right hand, pistol in her left.