Майкл Ридпат - Fatal Error

Spedding approached us. ‘I’m sorry, Guy, but I have some questions I have to ask you.’ He drew Guy a few yards away and began asking them. Other policemen talked to Ingrid and me. After half an hour or so, they let us go.

‘I’m off to the hospital, now,’ said Guy. ‘To see how Owen’s doing.’

I glanced at Ingrid. ‘We’ll come with you,’ I said. I didn’t give a damn what happened to Owen, but I did care about Guy. He needed all the support he could get.

‘Thanks,’ he said, and turned to the small group of policemen who were still busy milling about the road. Spedding had already left, so he spoke to a uniformed sergeant.

A moment later he rejoined us. ‘Owen’s been taken to St Thomas’s. The copper said they could give us a lift, but we’d have to wait a few minutes. So let’s just grab a taxi.’

He headed off rapidly towards Farringdon Road, and we followed him, keeping our eyes out for black cabs with orange lights on. There were none.

‘Damn,’ Guy said. He was getting impatient, and began walking down towards Smithfield. He waved at an empty cab with its light off, but it ignored him and drove on. I was reminded of Hoyle’s prayers for a recession.

We paused at a crossing. Guy was suddenly struck by something. He turned to me, frowning. ‘You know, you were wrong, Davo.’

‘About what?’

‘About Owen. And the note to Clare.’

‘What do you mean? He admitted he wrote it.’

‘No, he didn’t. When I asked him, he said, “Maybe.” He was trying to be mysterious. Having his own little joke.’

Guy saw my scepticism. ‘Think about it. Think of the words in the note: “unsolicited offer”, “purchase the company”, “pursuing discussions with other potential investors”. That’s not Owen.’

It was true. They didn’t sound like Owen’s words.

‘Did you see the note Owen wrote to Henry?’ Guy asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Was it anything like that?’

‘No. It was just a couple of lines. I can’t remember it exactly, but it was something like: “Give Ninetyminutes the money, or else.” ’

‘And another thing. I know Owen didn’t kill my father.’ I opened my mouth to protest, but Guy stopped me. ‘It’s not just that he was with me at the time, I know he didn’t hire anyone else to kill him, either. He was genuinely surprised when he heard what had happened. But someone murdered Dad. Someone ran him down, on purpose. And someone wrote that note.’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a taxi with its light on speeding past us. But I was too stunned by what Guy was saying to react.

Guy’s frown deepened. ‘Where’s Mel?’

‘She’s with Clare,’ said Ingrid. ‘At Howles Marriott.’

‘Oh, my God,’ I said. Suddenly, I saw it. Guy was right. Of course Owen wouldn’t have written a letter like that: it was written by a lawyer. A lawyer who would do anything to help Guy. Anything.

‘What time is it?’ Guy asked.

I checked my watch. ‘Ten to twelve.’

‘Jesus.’ Guy looked up and down the street. No sign of any more free cabs. We were now quite a distance from Britton Street and the remaining police. ‘Come on! Let’s run! It’s only half a mile to Mel’s office.’

Guy set off, with Ingrid and me in hot pursuit. We ran along Charterhouse Street, across Holborn Circus, down Shoe Lane, and into the rabbit warren of streets and squares between Fleet Street and Chancery Lane. Guy ran fast and it was all I could do to keep up. I wasn’t as fit as I used to be; my heart was soon pounding and I was gasping for air. But I kept up, just. Ingrid wasn’t far behind us.

We reached the entrance to Howles Marriott. A security guard looked up from his desk, startled.

‘Have you seen Melanie Dean?’ Guy asked, fighting for breath.

‘She just left a moment ago.’

‘Alone?’

‘No. With another lady.’

‘Shit!’ said Guy. ‘Look. Call the police. Tell them there’s a murder about to be committed. There’s a dangerous woman out there and she’s almost certainly armed.’

The security guard’s jaw dropped. He didn’t move.

‘I’m serious. Do it!’

Guy and I ran out of the front entrance. Ingrid arrived panting.

‘Which way?’ I said.

‘God knows,’ said Guy. ‘She could have gone anywhere.’

‘I thought I saw two figures back that way,’ said Ingrid, pointing towards the alley from which we had come. ‘It’s not far.’

‘OK. Show us.’

Ingrid set off again and we followed her. She dived through a passageway under an office block and into a tiny square paved with flagstones. The red-brick lawyers’ buildings that surrounded it were still. No traffic. No people. Just Mel and Clare, illuminated under a yellow streetlamp.

‘Mel!’ Guy shouted.

At the sound of his voice, she stopped and turned. Clare was right next to her, looking very frightened. In Mel’s hand was a gun.

Ingrid and I stopped. Guy slowed to a walk. He approached the two women.

‘Now, Mel. Let her go,’ he said calmly.

‘No,’ Mel said. ‘I warned her that if she didn’t turn down the Champion Starsat offer she would die. Derek Silverman faxed through the acceptance ten minutes ago.’

‘I’m asking you to let her go,’ Guy said, taking a further step towards her.

‘Stop where you are!’ Mel shouted. Her eyes were bright. She was wired. On the edge.

Guy stopped.

‘I’m doing this for you, you know that, don’t you?’ Mel said.

Guy nodded. ‘I know.’

‘I’ve done so much for you.’

‘I know.’

‘Do you? I don’t think you do. I got rid of your father. Did you know that? Do you remember that night when you came round to see me after you’d had a fight with him? After he had insisted that Ninetyminutes become a porn site. Do you remember that, Guy?’

‘I remember.’

‘I was so angry for you. I wanted to help you. So I decided to force him to keep you on, to keep doing things at Ninetyminutes your way. I waited for him in my car outside his flat. I was going to tell him that if he didn’t do what I wanted, I’d accuse him of raping me in France.

‘Then I saw him. Coming out of his flat into the narrow street. I thought it would be so easy just to put my foot down on the accelerator and finish him off. I remembered what he’d done to me in France, how he’d ruined my life. I couldn’t let him ruin your life as well. So I put my foot down.’

I remembered what Anne Glazier had said: Mel had arrived back at her flat that evening after Guy. She had driven home straight from running Tony down. No wonder she had seemed so agitated.

I couldn’t see Guy’s face, but Mel could. ‘Don’t look so shocked. Owen killed Dominique, didn’t he? And you stood by him. Well, I killed Tony. For you.’

‘There’s no need to kill anyone else,’ Guy said. ‘Let Clare go. For me.’

Mel grabbed hold of Clare and lifted the gun to her head. ‘No. She destroyed Ninetyminutes.’

Clare whimpered. She was terrified.

‘Did Owen know?’ Guy asked.

‘He worked it out. He’s clever, your brother. And I knew he was trying to help you too. We both did our best.’

‘Is that where you got the gun?’

‘Yes. He came up to me a few days ago and said he’d got one for you and did I want one? I think he knew what I’d use it for.’

A siren sounded. Mel looked round the square in panic. The police. If she was going to press the trigger, she might do it now.

Guy took a step further forward.

‘I’m going to shoot her! I mean it.’

More sirens, louder. Guy took another step. ‘Let her go.’

‘I said, I’ll shoot her.’

Another step.

The gun moved away from Clare’s head towards Guy. Clare bucked and yanked herself away from Mel’s grasp. Guy lunged forward. There was a shot and a cry from Guy. He slid to the ground as Mel jumped backwards. Clare ran off somewhere to the side. I dashed towards Mel and Guy. Mel turned and ran down an alleyway.