Simon Kernick - The Last 10 Seconds

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The new race-against-time bestseller from the British Harlan Coben. When ex-police officer John Cone is found lying wounded in a room full of dead bodies, he has a terrifying story to tell. Three days earlier he was hired by a mysterious client to snatch a suspected serial killer, Andrew Kent (aka the Penthouse Predator) from custody while he's being transferred between prisons. Kent is snatched, but then things immediately go wrong. People start dying, Kent goes missing, and Cone begins to realize that the case against him is not what he was led to believe. Sharing that suspicion is newly promoted DI Tina Boyd, one of the murder squad team who arrested Kent several months earlier. But now Kent's disappeared, and Tina has to find him. And find him fast, because it's clear some very high-powered people want to silence him.

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The last time I’d seen him it was short and light brown, but for the Wolfe infiltration I’d dyed it black, grown it long, and added a pair of mutton-chop sideburns which if they’d been a couple of inches longer would have constituted an Amish beard. ‘A man should always be adventurous with his hair, although I guess you’ve probably forgotten that. Anyway, thanks for coming to check up on me, sir. I’ve only been here nine days.’

‘I’ve been trying to contain the fall-out from your shenanigans,’ he answered gruffly, taking a seat. I noticed that he hadn’t brought a gift, or even a card, but then Captain Bob had never been known for his generosity of spirit. ‘What were you thinking about, Sean?’ he asked, his cut-glass accent heavy with exasperation.

‘You know what I was thinking about. I was trying to get justice for my brother.’

‘Revenge, you mean, because there was nothing just about what you did.’

‘If you’ve come here to lecture me, sir, then you’re wasting your breath.’

‘I haven’t. I came here to see how you were. And to tell you that I’ve spoken up on your behalf to the officers investigating this sorry affair. I’m hopeful that they’re not going to press charges, but I have to be honest, Sean. Your career’s over.’

‘I gathered that.’ I’d always known that this was inevitable, yet I was still taken aback by the finality of his announcement.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, trying hard to sound like he meant it. ‘There’s something else as well. I’ve been asked to come here to request your resignation from the force. We’ll accept it on the grounds of stress, and you’ll keep your full pension rights. I can promise you it’ll be a lot easier that way.’ His tone was polite, sympathetic even, but there was no mistaking the threat behind the words. They wanted rid of me, and would do whatever it took.

‘What’s the alternative?’

‘That it could get messy.’

Sections of the media might have been portraying me as a hero, but I didn’t think that would stop the bosses in their quest. I was an embarrassment, and I had to go. I could have fought on, but the last few weeks had taken their toll on me, and I’d done what I’d set out to do. Now was the time to withdraw from the battlefield.

‘OK then,’ I said. ‘I resign, if that’s what you want.’

‘I don’t want,’ he answered, ‘but you’ve left us with no choice. You kidnapped a high-profile suspect from police custody, and killed him before he’d even got anywhere near a court.’

‘I also helped break open a major case that led to the unmasking of a corrupt politician,’ I snapped back, stung by his criticism. ‘And there’s more to come as well. Paul Wise, the gangster who was behind all this, is going to get exposed as well.’

Captain Bob narrowed his eyes. ‘How do you know?’

‘Tina Boyd’s got a tape of Anthony Gore’s confession in which he mentions Wise.’

As soon as I said this, I regretted it. The last person I needed to tell was an establishment man like Captain Bob.

‘I thought there was no tape,’ he said. ‘That’s what she told her boss.’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe I got it wrong.’

He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe that for one minute, but chose not to pursue it further. Instead, after a few seconds of tense silence, he got to his feet and said he had to go. ‘You were an excellent operative, Sean, and I enjoyed working with you. You’ll be missed, but you’re doing the right thing.’ He gave my hand a cursory shake, wished me luck, then hurried out of the room as if he was being pursued by a bad smell.

I wondered if I’d now landed Tina in a big pile of trouble. I had little doubt that he’d report what he’d found out to his superiors, and that they’d try to get her to hand over the footage. I needed to let her know that she might be getting a visit so that she could at least take appropriate action. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a number for her.

I was still very tired, and, despite feeling guilty about not trying to make contact, I drifted off into a restless sleep.

Something jolted me awake. Something that was bothering me. But I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

The digital clock on the wall said it was 9.53 p.m., and I slowly clambered out of bed. I was feeling a lot better, and the consensus among the doctors was that I was making a remarkable recovery. My right leg felt very stiff where I’d taken the bullet, but I could walk on it. I put on my dressing gown, grabbed my crutches, and went hunting for a payphone. I owed Tina. She’d done as much to save my life as I had hers. If she hadn’t turned up at the warehouse when she did, there was no doubt about it, I would have bled to death.

Halfway down the corridor, I stopped.

Dead.

I put a hand against the wall to steady myself, because I suddenly remembered something that Tommy had said in the warehouse during those few minutes I’d questioned him at gunpoint.

And in a sudden rush, I realized what it was that was bothering me.

And how much danger Tina Boyd was now in.

Fifty-nine

Alpha looked down at the Glock 34, with nine-millimetre silencer attached, in his hand. It was a wicked-looking thing that had been supplied to him three years earlier for use in case of emergencies, and as far as he was aware it was untraceable. The current situation was definitely an emergency, but Alpha still had no desire to use the gun. He wasn’t a killer, and never had been. He’d always considered his role within Paul Wise’s secretive organization to be nothing more than an information resource, helping Wise to run his business more smoothly by providing details of police operations against the various illegal arms of his business. But increasingly he was being called upon to perform far more extreme tasks, including the mutilation of a dead woman with a hammer in order to cover up the crime of Wise’s most senior establishment contact.

And now this.

Alpha’s instructions, delivered by Wise himself in his phone call, were simple and uncompromising. Get the tape that Tina Boyd made of Anthony Gore’s confession. Make sure there were no further copies. And then kill her. Wise’s tone had been angry and vindictive when he gave this last instruction. It seemed her actions had clearly riled him, as was proved by the price he was willing to pay for her death: a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, paid into Alpha’s Panamanian bank account within the hour.

Alpha knew he had no choice. He’d wanted to get out of Wise’s employ for a long time now, but it didn’t work like that. Wise had made it known to him that he had enough evidence of Alpha’s involvement in his operations to ruin him if he so chose.

The job had to be done, and it had to be done now.

Taking a deep breath, Robin Samuel-Smith, better known as Captain Bob to his colleagues in CO10, removed the silencer from the Glock, placed both items in the concealed shoulder holster beneath his raincoat, and walked out of the Pimlico apartment that Paul Wise’s blood money had done so much to pay for.

Sixty

I phoned my old colleague at Holborn nick, Simon Tilley, from one of a bank of payphones near the hospital reception, and got him to give me Tina’s address and phone numbers. Tilley had already visited me twice in hospital, so thankfully he didn’t want to talk about my experiences, having heard it all already, but he did seem very interested in knowing why I wanted to contact Tina, assuming it was for romantic reasons. I almost told him about my fears, but I had the feeling he’d think I was certifiable. Instead, I cut him short, telling him I’d call him back in the next couple of days.

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