Archer, Jeffrey - Hidden in Plain Sight

18

THE SILVER-GREY BENTLEY Continental drew up outside terminal three.

Heath appeared relaxed as he got out of the car clutching firmly onto the briefcase, his only piece of luggage. He was heading towards the terminal entrance when a motorcycle skidded to a halt in the no-parking zone.

‘You go after him,’ said Paul. ‘I’ll catch up.’

‘I’ve seen that bike somewhere before,’ said William, as he took off his helmet and pointed to a black Yamaha that had been dumped in the disabled parking area. ‘But where?’

‘It passed us on the motorway,’ said Paul. ‘The rider slowed down as he drew level with the Bentley, and looked in the back window before taking off again.’

‘No, I’ve seen it somewhere else,’ mumbled William, as he set off in pursuit of Heath. Once he was inside the terminal, he quickly checked the departures board. ‘British Airways Flight 012 to Rio de Janeiro, 16.20. Gate 27’ flicked up on the display. He passed quickly through the crowded concourse, avoiding suitcases and outstretched legs as he headed towards the check-in desks, his eyes continually searching for his quarry. And then he spotted Adrian, still dressed in his smart courtroom-appearance suit, embracing a young woman at the BA counter who he assumed must be Maria Ruiz. He slipped behind a pillar, and waited for Paul to join him.

William watched as they kissed and began chatting excitedly. He only wished he could overhear their conversation.

‘How did it go?’ asked Maria.

‘Exactly as planned, except I ended up with twenty grand, not ten.’

‘Don’t you feel a little guilty about what you’ve done to your old school friend?’

‘Not if his father’s half as bright as the press claim. By this time tomorrow, if not sooner, he’ll have gone over the transcript of my testimony and seen that I’ve handed him a golden opportunity to trap Faulkner. So it’s even more important we’re well out of harm’s way long before Faulkner finds out that I double-crossed him.’

‘Our flight leaves in forty minutes,’ said Maria, checking the departure board.

‘Perfect. But it would be better if we split up, and meet again on board the plane. There might be someone looking out for us. You take this,’ he said, handing over the briefcase and her ticket.

Maria embraced him again, before reluctantly leaving to climb onto the escalator leading to departures. After waving to her, Adrian headed towards the men’s room.

William watched as Maria disappeared from view. His instructions had made no mention of her. He was simply to arrest Heath and bring him back to the Old Bailey.

‘On what charge?’ he’d asked Lamont.

‘My bet is he’ll be travelling on a false passport, and there’ll be enough evidence in that briefcase to prove his testimony was bought. Don’t be surprised if you find it’s a lot more than ten thousand.’

A few moments later a voice said, ‘Do you want me to follow her, sarge?’

‘No. We’ll arrest Heath first and then go after her. She won’t be going anywhere without him.’

They both kept their eyes on the men’s room, as they waited for Heath to reappear.

‘He’s taking his time,’ said Paul. ‘A change of clothes perhaps?’

‘No, he didn’t have anything with him when he went inside. My bet is they’ve agreed to meet up again on the plane.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘She’s got the money.’

‘Should I go and check he’s still in there?’

‘Where else could he be?’ said William, as a man they both recognized immediately came running out of the men’s room.

‘So now we know who was on the other bike,’ said Paul. ‘Which one do you want me to go after?’

‘Tulip,’ said William, remembering where he’d last seen the black Yamaha. ‘And make sure you arrest him.’

‘On what charge?’

‘I have a feeling I’m about to find out,’ said William, as he headed for the men’s room. ‘Get going!’

Paul took off after Tulip, no longer caring about stray bags or stretched-out legs, and just as William had reached the entrance to the men’s room another man came rushing out, shouting, ‘Help, somebody call the police, help!’

As William was about to go inside, a third man burst past him, struggling to do up his zip while on the move. William pushed open the door and tentatively entered the washroom. He came to a sudden halt, momentarily paralysed by what he saw in front of him. During his time on the force, he had encountered several dead bodies: old people who’d died peacefully in their homes, drug addicts with needles sticking out of their arms, even a battered wife who’d hanged herself in front of her young children. But nothing could have prepared him for this.

Sprawled across the floor was the lifeless body of Adrian Heath, surrounded by a pool of blood. Only moments before he’d been looking forward to starting a new life with his girlfriend in Rio. Adrian’s throat had been cut in one clean movement by someone who knew what he was doing, and his right eye had been gouged from its socket and left by the body as a warning to any other dealer who might even think about becoming an informer.

‘Don’t move!’ shouted a voice from behind him.

William raised his arms and said firmly, ‘I’m a police officer. I’m going to show you my warrant card.’

‘Slowly,’ said the voice.

William extracted his card from an inside pocket and held it up for the officer to see.

He heard footsteps advancing towards him, followed by the words, ‘OK, sergeant, you can turn around.’

William swung round to see an older police sergeant, trying to remain calm, accompanied by a young constable who couldn’t stop shaking. Airport police usually deal with illegal immigrants, the occasional pickpocket, sometimes a passenger who has removed a bag from the carousel that isn’t theirs. This certainly wasn’t part of their job description. William accepted he would have to take charge.

‘Listen carefully,’ he said. ‘The first thing I need you to do is cordon off the whole area. Make sure no members of the public are allowed anywhere near this washroom.’

The young constable quickly left the room, a look of relief on his face suggesting he was glad to escape.

‘Sergeant, I want you to phone Detective Superintendent Lamont at Scotland Yard. Tell him Adrian Heath has been murdered, and DC Adaja is in pursuit of the suspect, known as Tulip.’ William made him repeat the message, as another officer appeared. He turned away the moment he saw the body.

‘I need you to inform the airport’s duty officer and take control of the crime scene,’ said William to the third officer. ‘The body is not to be moved until officers from the murder squad authorize it.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said another man who was only too happy to obey orders.

William squatted on one knee next to Heath’s body and extracted a boarding card and passport from an inside pocket. The photograph was of Heath, although the name wasn’t.

‘Sorry, old friend,’ said William. ‘God knows, you didn’t deserve this.’

When William emerged from the men’s room, he found two more policemen cordoning off the crime scene, while a group of exasperated passengers were demanding to know why they couldn’t use the washroom. If he’d told them, they would have peed in their pants.

The older sergeant hurried back to join him.

‘The forensic medical examiner should be with us fairly soon. I wasn’t able to get through to Superintendent Lamont because he’s been called to give evidence at the Old Bailey. A Commander Hawksby says you’re to take over until a crime scene manager arrives.’

‘Understood. Make sure—’