Steven Dunne - The Disciple

‘Sorenson’s dead and I’ll be joining him soon. She knows the area, right?’

‘She’s lived in Derby the last two years. I was in Brighton mostly.’

‘Want to bet we’ll make a detour down a deserted road on the way?’

‘Give it a rest, Damen.’ Nicole halted Brook next to a parking bay containing a sleek black Audi. She opened the side door, took out a roll of gaffer tape and stretched a piece over Brook’s mouth before pushing him into the back seat. She sat behind the wheel and glanced up at Brook in the driver’s mirror. His eyes were fixed on hers.

Two minutes later, Drexler and McQuarry emerged into the gloom carrying two bags. Each placed a bag in the boot before McQuarry closed it.

Drexler looked at her. ‘Well, I guess this is it. What time’s your plane?’

McQuarry smiled back. ‘It’s a private jet. Takeoff’s when we get there.’

‘Smooth.’

‘Say, Mike. Come and see us off, would you? I’d appreciate it. You can drive the car back here.’

‘You’re coming back?’

‘You never know.’

Drexler gazed into his former partner’s eyes, a thin smile barely grazing his features.

‘Don’t worry. The satnav will get you back.’

Drexler’s smile broadened. ‘Sure, Ed. I’d like that. But no tears this time.’

McQuarry laughed. ‘You sit in front with Nicky.’

‘Why is Agent Drexler coming?’ asked Nicole, starting the car.

‘He’s going to drive the car back,’ McQuarry replied, not looking at her. She sat next to Brook in the back and when the car reached the security gate she waved a card at a sensor and it opened. She passed the security card forward to Drexler. ‘You’ll need this when you bring the car back, Mike.’ He pocketed it with a nod. ‘And you better have these, Inspector Damen Brook.’ Nicole looked in the mirror as McQuarry took the keys to the flat and dropped them in Brook’s jacket pocket. ‘Just in case you come to your senses — it’s a good location if you need to store supplies and there are plenty of resources already there.’ Brook managed his best sceptical expression, despite his taped mouth. Thank God for eyebrows.

They set off through the deserted streets of Derby for the short trip to East Midlands Airport, past the Midland Hotel and the Indian restaurant in which Nicole/Laura had poisoned DCI Hudson. Within fifteen minutes they were on the A50 heading towards the motorway.

Brook used his bound hands to wind down the rear window a crack to suck in the cold, mulchy air. McQuarry looked over. ‘The childlocks on, honey?’ she asked Nicole.

‘They’re on.’

Ten minutes later they exited a roundabout. Nicole pulled on a baseball cap which made her look more anonymous, presumably for the upcoming airport cameras.

‘Drive straight on,’ said McQuarry.

Nicole looked sharply at Brook in the mirror. ‘Why?’ she asked a little too loudly.

‘We can hardly drive into the airport with the inspector bound and gagged, honey. We’ll just drop him in the middle of nowhere and he can walk back to civilisation. Okay with you, Inspector?’

Brook broke off his stare into the driver’s mirror, but made no effort to acknowledge the question. Another five minutes and the streetlights disappeared and the roads started to narrow and meander.

Nicole was forced to drive much slower and Brook kept his gaze on her. When she wasn’t looking at Brook, her eyes were darting from side to side.

‘It’s the middle of winter, Ed. What if the inspector turns an ankle and can’t walk? He could die of hypothermia.’

McQuarry flashed back a private-joke smile. ‘He’ll be fine, honey. We’ll wrap him up warm. Take the next left.’

Nicole turned left onto a one-car track, slowing the car to fifteen miles an hour. She had to put the headlights on full beam.

‘Pull in here,’ ordered McQuarry. The car halted next to a field covered in grass. Apart from those of the car and the moon and stars in the sky, there were no lights visible anywhere.

Nicole wouldn’t look at Brook and he got the impression she was breathing heavily.

‘Everybody out.’ The gun had reappeared in McQuarry’s hand and she dragged Brook from his seat. She pulled him round the car and walked him into the semi-gloom at the edge of the headlight beam before pushing him to his knees. Nicole and Drexler got out but didn’t venture away from the vehicle. McQuarry tore off the gag and Brook exercised his jaw. He thought about shouting for help, but didn’t want to hasten his end.

‘If you’ve got any prayers, Brook, now’s the time.’ She tapped the back of his head with the nozzle of her gun.

Brook managed a bitter one-note chuckle. ‘I’m British, Ed. We’ve abolished God.’ The sight of one of his final breaths condensing in the air made him yearn for a last cigarette.

McQuarry turned to the car, a huge toothy grin on her mouth. ‘This is a funny guy. What a waste.’

‘This isn’t right, Ed. Brook’s a police officer. Uncle Vic wouldn’t want this.’ Nicole’s voice was strained, her speech punctuated by sharp breaths visible in the cold.

‘Uncle Vic is in the ground, honey, and times change. Only people don’t. He’s fucked up too many times. We can’t trust him.’

‘You can’t kill him, Ed,’ Nicole tried again. ‘He’s served. He’s one of the good guys.’

‘I’ll make it quick, honey,’ answered McQuarry. ‘But we can’t leave him. He knows too much. Now let’s not drag this out.’

‘Ed, please don’t. He doesn’t know anything.’

‘RAG, Inspector Brook. It stands for Reaper Armageddon. On that day, the whole world will know the value of The Reaper’s work.’ McQuarry grinned at Nicole. ‘See, honey, he knows too much.’

McQuarry turned to Drexler and beckoned him over. After a brief hesitation Drexler walked across to Brook and McQuarry, his arms resolutely inside his coat.

‘You said you wanted to make it right, Mike. Here.’ McQuarry changed her own gun to her left hand and took out the M9. ‘Use Sorenson’s gun like you should’ve in Tahoe. It has a nice ring to it.’

Drexler looked at McQuarry’s outstretched hand, then at Brook, then into McQuarry’s cold eyes. He smiled suddenly then nodded and took the gun, examining it carefully before flicking off the safety. He pointed it at the back of Brook’s head.

Brook saw the shadow of Drexler’s outstretched arm in the glow of the headlights and closed his eyes. There would be no music tonight.

‘The bad guys have guns,’ he muttered, waiting for the explosion.

A second later Drexler swivelled, pointing the gun at McQuarry. ‘Drop it, Ed.’

She grinned at him and nodded, but made no move to drop her gun. ‘I knew it.’

‘You have to answer for my father.’

McQuarry smiled faintly. ‘You were always weak.’ She held onto her revolver but made no move to raise it.

‘Drop the gun, Ed.’

‘So you didn’t put him out of your mind.’

‘I couldn’t. I found him without your help. It was six months after the Golden Nugget. He was working in a soup kitchen in San Francisco. But then you already knew that.’ McQuarry didn’t reply. ‘Did you also know he’d been sober for a year? No? Did you know he gave his time for free? No? Did you know he was doing the twelve steps?’

McQuarry shrugged.

‘He sobbed when I found him, Ed. He begged me to try and forgive him for what he’d done. He said he’d understand if I couldn’t, but he said he loved me and wanted me in his life.’

‘And you believed him? What a schmuck.’

‘No, I didn’t believe him. And no, I didn’t trust him. But guess what? I no longer wanted him dead. See, he was suffering for what he’d done. I saw that much. It was killing him inside. And if it took years to win back my trust he said he wanted to try. He needed at least that ray of hope. I was prepared to allow him that.’