Richard Wiseman - To Kill Or Be Killed

“I’ll not tell, anyway no matter what you signed with them you made promises when you married me and my claim on you pre-dates theirs. I won’t tell I promise.”

David’s face broke into a big grin. “You’re right. No-one will know and I’ve always told you about my work. I don’t see the problem in us sharing it. Maybe you could help.”

He told her the situation, what had happened and the story, what he knew of it, of the five men. Mary sat rapt in attention until he finished.

“My God, that’s incredible. There are three more out there?”

“Yes.”

“Davey it’s just as well you shot that man Wheeler. He’s an evil man and no doubt.”

“Who’s evil mummy?” Conor had come into the room.

“The Hamburglar at MacDonald’s wee man. Want to go to the Harbour today and get Old MacDonald’s?”

“Yay. Please dada, can we sit and watch the boats?”

“Sure sweetie.”

“I’ve to take him out this afternoon. Mona and Terri asked me over for a coffee and their boys will be there. You want to play with Leighton and Hadley this morning Conor?”

“Yay. Can I watch Teevee mummy.”

David rose.

“I’ll get breakfast. Log on and check my mail, do my CCTV survey for a bit and then I’ll take wee man down the harbour.”

“It’d do you good. Bit of father son bonding, red meat, fries and fresh air.”

“Perfect.”

David went to the kitchen and got out the cereal boxes.

“What do you want for breakfast Conor?” McKie felt relieved, more in his comfort zone. Talking to Mary had helped and his role as family man was a ‘suit’ of clothes he felt safe in, the traumas of the past days faded to the back of his mind. He went to the fridge and got the milk out.

Claridge’s Hotel Mayfair London

7 a.m.

April 19th

Cobb had asked for an alarm call and breakfast in his room. He showered, dressed neatly but comfortably and whilst waiting for breakfast he took out the police issue Heckler Koch MP5, stripped it, cleaned it and armed it. He did the same for his PSS and tucked that in his waist band at the back of his trousers.

Breakfast arrived and he sat down to enjoy ‘ham and eggs’ British style. The coffee was strong and the kind he liked. Betty still hadn’t stirred and he wondered how he was going to deal with her.

Across the city Tony Deany had risen from his duty team stopover room’s single bed, washed, dressed and after eating a good breakfast and gone down to the office assigned for him for the two weeks. He was surprised to find Ellie already there.

“Early riser?”

Not usually, it’s hard to sleep knowing these men are out there. I mean twelve dead, the mayhem at Gatwick, sorry to remind you, then the mayhem at that club.” Ellie paused and looked up from her screen.

“It’s not so hard to sleep when you need to. I always rise early, did whilst I was a cop and always do now, no matter how much sleep I’ve had. I suppose I don’t like to waste a day knowing how short life could be.” Tony sat down and logged on. Ellie turned back to her screen and then cast him a sideways glance.

“You know that sounds good to start with and then becomes really quite grim at the end.”

Ellie looked at him. Tony looked back and took in her face. It was a clear skinned, pale oval, set with a wide mouth, a small neat nose and heavy lashed pale blue eyes. Her hair was black and cut in a long ‘bob’. She smiled and he smiled back

“What’s the news from the network?”

She watched him turn to the screen, slightly flushed with embarrassment. He was sweet, especially for a man about six feet tall, muscular, with short, untidy half curled hair. She liked his eyes, slightly hooded looking, almost sleepy and a warm brown colour.

“No sign of Mason. They found the motorbike at the Bickenhall Hotel, well near it. They had an armed team go in softly, softly. You know rang up, woke manager, did a walk in opened door with a key. He was gone. I don’t think they expected to find him."

“News on Stanton? “

“Nothing really. Daylight will mean the search can get under way, but he’ll know that so they’ll have to search harbours. DIC teams are doing West Coast Harbour checks to see if he put in. There’s a negative response there. As for Cobb, no sign at all. There were a couple of false leads off the CCTV checks, he’s fairly average looking Cobb, especially from black and white footage.”

“So that’s it. You might as well go back to bed.” Deany smiled at her.

“No way. When the call comes in I want to be ready.”

“You’re a bit gung ho aren’t you?”

“I knew Wally Tyson. When I started some years back I was duty team partner to Wally for a year. He was a great guy and a real brain man.” Ellie blinked holding back her tears.

Deany nodded, the word ‘brain’ bringing back the mental picture of open shattered skulls and leaking brain matter on the jetty at the Liverpool Marina.

“So I want to be the one to either bring him in or shoot him.” Ellie said in a lighter tone than she intended.

“I was at the Marina and his house, with his wife and daughter. It was a shocking thing to do to anyone, so I’m keen to get the scum too; just so you know.”

“Good, then he won’t have chance will he.” Ellie looked firmly into mid distance, in her mind’s eye seeing Wally as he was when she met him. Deany stared into his computer screen, but saw Wally’s shattered face and head, dripping with Mersey water, and then he thought of Ginny and Tara. In a moment he’d relit the torch of revenge he swore to himself he’d carry for them.

Across the city the Paddington Green Police Station desk sergeant took the call with some cynicism.

“Right thank you sir. I’ll have that looked into.”

He called the special branch office who in turn called the DIC centre, where the information was passed to Diane.

When the phone rang at seven thirty in Tony and Ellie’s office neither were expecting anything vital.

“Tony, it’s Diane, listen there’s a report of a sighting of Cobb at Claridge’s Hotel in Mayfair. It’s unlikely, but take a photo and trek along to reception there and see whether it’s true. If there’s a positive identification then called armed police, oh and both of you follow weapon check procedures before you go. I had Magda call down for a car.”

“Thanks Diane. You sound tired shouldn’t you sleep?" Tony had a soft spot for Diane and Ellie gave him a knowing smile, Tony acknowledged her intuition and ‘waved her away’ with his free hand, he liked Diane, but not in that kind of way, more like a favourite aunt. Whilst talking to Diane he looked at Ellie, who on reflection he felt was more his kind of woman.

“Not until Jack’s back from Liverpool, he’ll be here by 9am sharp, he said, I’ll sleep then.” Diane said and she hung up.

Tony told Ellie and five minutes later they were in the DIC pool car, a black VW Polo, ideal for the London streets. They went along Marylebone Road, into Portland place, then Wigmore street and Ellie found a parking space for the car on Vere Street. They walked down New Bond Street, into Brook Street and were at the hotel within ten minutes of leaving.

Up in his room Cobb had woken Betty. She was rather hung over and he called down for Alka Seltzer and more coffee. Betty groaned and made for the shower. She hardly remembered what had happened. It was always the same. Her husband had been a stock broker and since his death she lived well, but the kids were grown up, living in America and generally didn’t want to see her when she did fly over. She’d taken to getting bored and going out to get drunk. The hot water brought life into her body and she did remember bits of the night. She knew she was at Claridge’s, she recognised the art deco style from when she’d stayed here before, with her husband. She felt really sore, above and below and wished she hadn’t got so drunk.