Deadly Code (20 page)

Chapter 33

‘Maley and I have already met,’ Rhona said, 'Very recently, in fact.'

Maley's expression made her skin crawl.

Interestingly, he seemed to be having a similar effect on Lynne Franklin. Certainly Maley didn't fit her image of a big handsome Gael with a sing-song voice and something enticing under his kilt. But it was more than that.

‘Joe didn't tell you he tried to kill me?' Rhona enjoyed scoring that point.

Franklin turned to Maley, 'You told me you couldn't find her.'

Maley was out of his depth. 'She's fucking off her head. I never saw her before.'

'That's funny, Joe. I distinctly remember the smell of your rotten breath, just before I twisted your wizened wee balls,' Rhona taunted.

'Bitch!'

Rhona's side-step wasn't quick enough to avoid Maley's body as it smashed into hers. They fell together onto the fancy couch. Somewhere in the background a voice was screaming at Maley to get off. He did, but not before Rhona had snapped her teeth shut on his ear.

Maley howled. ‘You're dead, bitch!'

But he wasn't to have his heart's desire ... yet.

Franklin had recovered her sense of purpose. She stared unwaveringly at Rhona. 'You must see that your continuing survival depends on whether you decide to help us.'

Rhona looked at the two faces, one twisted with dumb hatred, the other devoid of emotion, and knew which she feared most.

'And if Spike takes you to MacAulay, what happens then?' she said.

'You have my word neither you nor the boy will be harmed.'

The voice was smoothly honest. Franklin might even believe what she was saying. But Maley's eyes told a different story.

'I need to think,' Rhona stalled.

'You can have ten minutes,' Franklin warned. 'After that Maley has my permission to do whatever is necessary to get us the boy.'

Rhona splashed her face with cold water. The ache in her head had eased, to be replaced by a pain in her chest where Maley had landed on her. She knew she had done her case no good by winding him up, but she couldn't help it.

Did Franklin know about Maley's little torture session with Spike? She doubted it. Maley wouldn't want his boss to know he had let the boy escape.

The drugs were top of Maley's agenda, above getting even with her. He wanted to know where they were before anything else. Maley was just a big fuck in a scabby wee pond. The politics of human genetics wasn't something his brain could handle, but he would carry on the charade until he got what he wanted. The drugs delivery and Rhona's death, in either order. Anything else would be a bonus.

Rhona didn't need time to decide. She had already made up her mind. She used the time to work out how to inflict the most pain on Maley with the glass stopper she'd taken from the whisky decanter.

If Spike had reached shore, surely he would have gone to Mrs MacMurdo by now. Even if he hadn't, she wouldn't wait forever before calling the police. Constable Johnstone would contact Northern Constabulary, who would contact Strathclyde Police and Bill Wilson. Somewhere in that chain would be Phillips and whoever he represented.

Rhona never thought the day would dawn when thinking about Phillips would make her happy.

They were passing the shielings south of Caol Rona. She could make out the broken stone walls clustered on the ribbed grazings. As far as Rhona knew, the nearest night anchorage was round the north point in Loch a' Sguirr. Anywhere else was too exposed. While she watched the passage between Raasay and Rona slide into view, she heard the door behind her open.

Esther was everything Rhona had imagined. Pale skin, big dark eyes, sexy in a waif-like way. Rhona remembered sitting next to Sean on the sofa, listening to her sing. She had felt the sound vibrate his senses, saw his excitement grow with every note. Music was sex to Sean. Playing it, listening to it.

In her imagination Sean was already fucking the owner of the voice. She had been wrong, she knew that now. Sean had accepted the girl for what she was, a singer with a problem. But had Esther betrayed Sean and helped Maley set him up?

Rhona had blamed Sean for screwing up her life. The truth was, her connection with Maley had screwed up Sean's life.

Esther closed the door quietly behind her.

Her voice shook as she whispered, 'Joe's strung out on speed. He's going to kill you.' She produced a small handgun from her pocket. 'Here, take this. I stole it from that woman's cabin.'

The gun felt light as a toy. Rhona stared at it. She had seen the results of gunshots. She had never imagined herself inflicting one. She slipped the gun into her pocket.

'There's a dinghy trailing the stern. You can make it ashore.'

'What about you?'

Esther shook her head vehemently. 'No. If I try to leave him, Joe will kill Spike.'

She turned for the door and Rhona saw the heart-shaped mole on her cheek.

Realisation dawned. 'It was you that day in the underground.'

Esther nodded, remembering. 'You were sitting opposite me. I was crying.'

'And I didn't help you.'

'You can help me now. Find Spike. Tell him I never wanted him hurt.'

The yacht rocked gently at anchor. The engine must have stopped while they were talking and they hadn't noticed. There was no one on deck. In the east, the sun was creeping over the horizon. Westward, the coast of Raasay was a dark pencil line.

Too far to swim.

They made their way towards the stern, every creak and shift of the boat playing their nerves. Rhona wanted Esther to leave, shooing her away immediately when they reached the rail, but Esther shook her head.

'You'll need help with the dinghy.'

They pulled it in as silently as possible. When it was close alongside, Rhona swung herself over the rail and found the ladder.

She dragged the oars into place, hating the grinding sound they made in the silence. When she looked up, Esther was no longer in sight. Then she heard her strangled cry.

‘I’m sorry, Dr MacLeod, but we require the dinghy to get to shore ourselves.' Lynne Franklin was dressed for business, from the slim black trousers to the yellow waterproof. 'While you were contemplating your future, Spike very kindly radioed us and told us his location.'

She pointed southwest, where a dull red beacon fluttered in the darkness.

Maley had Esther's slight figure clamped to his side, and Rhona was sure that pain was being inflicted.

'Bring the girl,' Franklin told Maley, 'we might need her yet.'

They moved Rhona to the bow, alongside the guy who had brought her the clothes. He pressed his body hard against her, getting off on closeness and the scent of fear. Rhona sat her hands in her lap, the right one resting on the gun Esther had given her, and imagined blowing the creep's dick and balls all over the Inner Sound.

Esther sat next to Maley, her eyes vacant. Maley was on the engine, busy glaring at Rhona. She met him eyeball to eyeball, until Franklin reminded him to keep his eyes on where they were heading.

The wind was coming from the northwest, light but constant and the engine had to fight the small grey waves that pushed the dinghy east, away from shore.

The beacon fire hung on their horizon and Rhona tried to work out where it was, thinking at first that the rising blackness was cliff line before she recognised the shadowy outline of Brochel Castle.

As they neared the shore, Franklin signalled Rhona's minder over the side to pull them in.

Rhona wondered who the minder belonged to, Franklin or Maley? She was sure she'd spotted a look pass between him and Joe in the boat, and she suddenly wondered if Franklin realised how alone she was out here.

The air was thick with the smell of seaweed and the crackle of burning driftwood. The fire was on their left, just above the tangle of the high water line, and the drifting smoke nipped at Rhona's eyes. Beyond was a clump of whin bushes, then a flat patch of grass, before the land rose more steeply to the single track road that zigzagged across the island.

Spike was nowhere to be seen.

‘Over there.' Franklin pointed at a cluster of rocks near the fire.

The minder dragged Rhona over, pushed her down roughly, jerked her hands behind her back and wound a thin wire tightly round her wrists. Then he shoved her knees up and wired her ankles the same way, making sure his fingers ran over her crotch as he did it

Esther was standing beside Maley, a lamb to the slaughter. He had already twisted her arms behind her back and a thin rope linked her to him. Franklin was peering along the shoreline, searching for the change in the shadow that would be Spike.

Behind Rhona, the Gaelic whisper was like water on sand.

'
A' bheil thu ’gam thuigsinn
?’ His tongue was badly swollen and he spoke slowly and as clearly as he could, willing her to understand.

‘
Tha. Tha mi ’gad thuigsinn
.'

Yes, she understood him.

He emerged from the whin bushes. In the dancing light of the fire, Spike looked young and old at the same time. He walked straight over to the American.

‘I am Donald MacAulay,' he announced.

Franklin stared at him appraisingly, gun in hand. When she spoke, her voice was almost reverent.

'Yes, you are Donald MacAulay.'

'I have what you want.' Spike gestured at the ruins of the castle. He looked at Maley. 'What he wants is there too.'

Maley's eyes were pinpoints of greed. He made to move off along the beach, but Franklin held up her hand. She wasn't interested in the contents of the castle, not for the moment. She drew closer to Spike and touched his head, moving it sideways to expose a ReAlba tattoo etched in the pale skin of his neck, just under the hairline.

'He told us you died.’

Maley was getting impatient and Franklin was too interested in Spike to pick up on the signals being exchanged between him and the minder.

'You will come with me,’ she was saying. 'You will come to America.’

'No,’ Spike shook his head. 'You can take my father's work. It's all there. That is enough.'

'You are your father's work.’

Spike laughed, a desperate sound that tore Esther from Maley.

Maley jerked at the rope, sending the weeping girl sprawling at his feet.

Spike's expression betrayed the depth of his loathing, but he dragged his eyes away from Maley and addressed Franklin again.

'You said if I gave you what you want, Esther and Rhona would go free.’

She appeared bemused at his insistence.

'The girl and the woman go free when you come with me.’

'Untie them and let them go,' Spike ordered, 'then I will go with you.'

'Spike, no!' Esther was crying.

'Let them go,' Spike repeated. "Then you have my word I will stay alive. Otherwise I will do everything I can to kill myself.'

A flicker of fear crossed Franklin's face. She waved the gun at Maley. 'Untie them.'

‘The girl's fucking mine,' Maley insisted. But if he was planning a move, it wasn't yet. The weasel eyes moved into submission. 'You promised me the gear.'

'Go and get it,' Franklin said. 'Bring everything you find.'

Maley was happy now.

'What about them?'

'I'll watch them.' Franklin told him.

When Maley and the minder disappeared into the darkness, Spike freed Rhona first.

'
Tha i trom
,' he whispered in her ear, with a swift glance at Esther. He pressed Rhona's hand, willing her to understand. She returned the pressure. If what Spike said was true, it changed everything. He moved towards Esther, untied her wrists, took her hands in his and rubbed the life back into them.

Franklin had watched his every move, but she hadn't heard the whispered words. Rhona was sure of that.

'Why take Spike?' Rhona tried. 'He doesn't know anything about his father's work.'

'You still don't understand,' Franklin smiled condescendingly. 'Donald is his father's work. The product of an adult male cell and a female egg. A human clone. The perfect Gael.'

‘You're insane.'

Franklin looked irritated. 'You're a scientist, Dr MacLeod. You know what's really happening in the scientific world while governments argue about what they will allow to happen. MacAulay maintained his attempts at human cloning were unsuccessful. Until recently we believed him.'

Rhona's head was reeling. Perhaps there was some truth in what Franklin was saying. She thought about Phillips and the cloak and dagger stuff. If the British government knew about Spike, they would want to get their hands on him as well.

'But you said MacAulay was working on genetic profiling.'

'He was. Maley will bring us what we need to know about that.'

There was a shout from the direction of the castle and Franklin aimed the gun at Esther.