Gregory's Game (29 page)

Nathan felt the anger surge and fought it down. This was time to be calm, to think, not to feel rage. Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Nathan inspected the black plastic bag lying on the floor. The remains of sandwich wrappers, apple cores and chocolate bars. Bottled water. Sustenance for maybe a few days, certainly not enough for the week or more she had been kept here. Had Daisy been here all that time as well?

Nathan backed out and flashed the torch around again, looking for any sign of others being here, leaving anything behind. He doubted there would be anything but went down anyway to inspect the lower floors. Apart from evidence of footprints in the dust, nothing remained.

So, someone had unlocked the door, Nathan thought. Someone had come here and left the door of the crate unbolted, but then locked and padlocked the outer door.

Mae, Nathan guessed. Mae, but she'd not been alone. Someone had put the padlock and chain back on the entrance to the mill. Was that when they had taken Daisy from her mother? How long had it been before Kat had realized she had a way out? Had she made her way down to the main door first and found it barred? Had she thought this was just a sick joke – released from her first prison just to find herself still confined? Or had she headed straight for that high window?

Mae – and Nathan just knew it had been Mae – would have considered she'd given Kat a fighting chance. Nathan found he was surprised that Ian Marsh's wife had actually taken it. Reluctantly, he revised his opinion of Katherine, just a little.

He'd been here long enough and, in truth, learnt little. He guessed that Mae had wanted him to see this place in part so he understood the risk she herself had run, crossing whoever had abducted Kat and the child.

Always theatrical, Nathan thought. Always wanting to emphasize the point. Mae never seemed to grasp that there were times to be subtle. He made his way back up to the window and examined it carefully before going back through. Looking at it, he guessed that the glass had been cracked before and that Kat must have broken it, cutting herself in the process. How badly had she hurt herself? The distance across the fields to where she had been found was, he calculated, a rough eight miles. It wasn't the closest settlement; there was a village four miles or so back down the track and then down the little B road. But she wouldn't have known that and, looking out of the window, Nathan understood what had brokered her decision. There were lights on the horizon. Lights that looked like a road or a group of houses. She'd have seen them from up here and taken the most direct route she could to find help.

‘Good for you, Katherine,' Nathan said.

I
'm tired, Naomi thought, then remembered that she'd been up since two in the morning. It was now just after six in the evening.

Once Tess and Charles Duncan had gone they had decided to go out, unable to settle in the little flat. Naomi joked that Duncan had probably bugged the place. Then it hadn't felt like a joke. Finally, they'd made their way to the local pub and ordered a meal.

‘You think Gregory will cooperate with him?' Naomi asked.

‘I doubt it. Would you?'

Naomi shrugged. ‘I don't know. But I don't think Charles Duncan is as committed to finding Desiree as he is to caulking the sinking ship Clay left behind. I smell damage limitation here.'

They were silent for a few minutes, while both tucked into their meals. ‘You think the big Tesco will still be open?' Naomi asked.

‘Should be. I think it closes at ten. Why?'

‘Because I think Patrick needs a new phone. Or at least a new sim card.'

‘We shouldn't involve him, Nomi.'

‘I want him to send a text, that's all. Let Gregory know they have company. I think when he asked to speak to Tess, he didn't have the likes of Charles Duncan in mind. If they have the facts, they can decide what to do.'

‘OK,' Alec said. ‘If Harry agrees, of course.'

‘Patrick is an adult now,' she reminded him.

Nathan and Gregory had headed south again, tracking the man Mae had named. Gregory felt momentarily guilty about the woman – but only momentarily. Mae had made her choices. She'd had opportunities to get out. Clay had ensured she had a pension and an escape route, but she'd not taken it. You should know when to quit.

Beside him, Nathan shifted uncomfortably. ‘Pull in and I'll take over,' Gregory said. They'd both spent more hours behind the wheel lately than was good for them. Back and knees complained and Gregory was increasingly aware that he was no longer a young man. Old breaks ached; old scars grew sore.

‘You think this is a wild goose chase?' Nathan asked, drawing into the next lay-by.

‘I think it could be. But I think she'd already committed herself. She'd got nothing to gain by lying and Phelps is one of Steadmann's men. So …'

Nathan got out of the car and stretched. Gregory took his place in the driver's seat.

‘She reckoned we'd got a couple of days,' he said. ‘Before the sale goes through.'

He was talking about a child, he thought suddenly. But it felt easier, using neutral language, not dwelling too much on the realities.

‘So, we'd better get moving then,' Nathan said.

Kat Marsh stared up at the ceiling. The nice policeman had gone off for a well-earned break when they thought she'd fallen asleep. She may well have dropped off for a few minutes, Kat thought, but she couldn't be sure. The line between waking and sleeping and some other limbo state was no longer very well defined. She floated – no, floated sounded too peaceful and this state wasn't peaceful. She
existed
in some strange, lost, amorphous place. Nothing felt real, including Kat herself. It was as though someone had invented her … and got bored halfway through, so that she was still thinly sketched and almost transparent.

She thought about her little girl. Where was she? Was she all right? Was she even still alive?

And she thought about her husband. Where had he gone and why? The policeman, Vin, had been so cautious when he talked about Ian, as though he hadn't wanted to hurt her – as if she could be hurt more. The only thing that could stab her deeper in the heart was if bad news came about her baby.

Desi couldn't be dead. Kat couldn't countenance that. She'd die too. She'd be unable to go on.

‘Y
ou can still redeem yourself, Ian,' Rico Steadmann said. ‘You can still make this right.'

‘I just want them back. I made a mistake. I thought—'

‘You thought you could cheat me,' Steadmann said quietly. ‘But you've seen how I deal with cheats and liars, Ian. You helped me get rid of the last cheat and liar.'

He watched the disgust and discomfort cross Ian Marsh's face. ‘Don't lie to yourself, Ian. You enjoyed it. The feel of the knife going in. The smell of the blood.'

‘You're wrong,' Ian Marsh said. ‘I've seen enough blood. I don't – can't – take pleasure in it. You forced my hand, Rico. That's the only reason—'

‘The only reason was greed, Ian. You're no better than the rest of us. You have enough and you want more and you fool yourself that you can deal with the consequences.'

The breeze from across the river was cold and damp. Across the field, Ian could see the lights of a nearby town, but all around was deathly quiet, twilight still.

He was aware that two more people walked across the field to join them. A woman and a man. A woman he knew; the man obviously just one of Steadmann's.

Mae.

‘The account numbers, Ian?'

‘I told you. I don't know them. I thought I could get what you wanted, but Nathan—'

‘Kept you too much at arms' length. He knows. He knew all of Clay's secrets.'

Ian Marsh shook his head, sure of his ground on that at least. ‘Not all,' he said.

Rico Steadmann sighed. Mae and the man stood close to them now. Mae looked scared, Ian thought, but also oddly resigned. She knew what was coming, just not precisely how it would arrive.

‘There's a way of making recompense,' Rico said.

‘How?'

‘You shoot Mae for me.'

‘What?'

He stared from Rico to the woman and back again. ‘Oh, I know the two of you have a past,' Rico said. ‘So, you trade the past for the present. Your lover for your wife and child.'

He looked back at Mae. Her eyes bulged and her mouth shaped in a tight little ‘no'.

‘I can't,' he said.

Steadmann handed him a gun. It was small and neat and sat easily in Ian's hand. It felt like a toy.

‘A Colt .25,' Rico said. ‘It's a vintage piece, Ian. From 1910. Over a century of efficient kills.'

Mae whimpered. She struggled against the two men who now gripped her arms.

‘And I get my life back if I do this?'

Rico inclined his head.

Slowly, Ian raised the gun. He fired a shot and then another, his range so close it was impossible to miss. She was dead after the first shot. He was surprised at how little recoil there was; somehow that added to the feel of it being a toy gun.

Someone took it from his hand.

‘I can go now,' he said. ‘You told me.'

‘And I lied,' Rico said. He took the gun from his associate's hand and shot Ian Marsh through the temple.

‘Get rid of them,' Rico said. ‘The river will do. I want them both to be found.'

Stake-outs were never much fun, Gregory thought. And they were desperately unprepared. He knew that Nathan was suddenly very aware of how isolated the two of them were. Gregory had been a lone wolf for most of his professional life, but the younger man had been a part of a major organization, backed by his guardian, supported by funds, weapons, resources. He'd had little time since Gustav Clay's death to adapt himself to the change in circumstances.

Right now, it was just the two of them with a couple of handguns and limited ammunition. And it was raining. Hard. A mixed blessing in that it kept people inside but also cut their visibility dramatically.

Earlier that evening he had received a text. The number was unknown but he'd opened it anyway. Patrick, helpfully, had signed his name at the end. And added a smiley face. Gregory didn't know whether to be amused or insulted. Did he look like a smiley-face kind of guy?

He'd called Patrick back and they'd talked, Patrick passing on what Naomi and Alec had told him.

‘They got me some new sim cards,' he said. ‘Naomi thought I should be careful.'

‘Where are you now?'

‘Amusement arcade on the promenade. It's bloody freezing. Dad reckoned it would be a good place. Public and noisy,' he laughed. ‘This is the last week before it shuts for winter.'

‘Glad I got my timing right,' Gregory said.

Naomi and Alec must be really concerned, he thought. To involve the boy like that. But then Gregory had involved him anyway, hadn't he? By going to see him. By making that contact. He was suddenly angry with himself. Harry was right; he was a storm-bringer.

Nathan was restless. He kept checking his watch. Gregory was relieved when a car finally turned the corner and pulled into the drive of the house they were watching. One man got out and went inside. A light came on. A bit of luck and he'd be alone.

Gregory got out and closed the door quietly. Nathan followed and they made their way to the house. It was in a suburban street; too many houses too close for Gregory's liking. They'd already checked the place out. It was heavily alarmed and Gregory hadn't ruled out the possibility of a panic button. Their man was part of Rico Steadmann's legal team, high up in his organization but with enough clout in the legitimate world that any attack on him would create outrage.

We, Gregory thought, are about to make a lot of noise.

They had decided to take a direct approach. Nathan went up to the front door and rang the bell. Gregory stood in the deep shadow off to the side, out of sight of the CCTV cameras that showed the residents who was at their door. Nathan's hood was up against the foul weather, a pizza carrier in his hands.

The front door opened. ‘You order a pepperoni with extra onion?' Nathan asked. Not waiting for a reply, he pushed forward, urging the man inside. Gregory followed close behind.

‘H
ow badly is he hurt?' Annie's voice was tense.

‘It's bad, Annie. He's lost a lot of blood. One bullet was a through and through; the other's still in there. He needs help, Annie.'

‘Bring him here.'

Gregory calculated time and distance – and the risk that Steadmann's people would guess what he might do.

‘No,' he said. ‘I know a place. It belongs to a friend.' He gave Annie Molly Chambers' address. It wasn't as isolated as he'd have liked but was secluded enough and he knew he could get in easily. It was the best he could do.

He glanced back at Nathan. He lay on the back seat, barely breathing and deathly pale. Gregory swore. Stupid, he thought. They'd been so bloody stupid and now Nathan might well die.

Phelps had not been cooperating. Gregory hadn't expected an easy run but it was starting to occur to him that the man was simply playing for time. Nathan had been going through his office, checking paperwork and computer files. They both knew they'd have to make it fast, get what they could and run.

Phelps had been almost laughing at him. He'd screamed in pain as the third of his fingers were satisfied to Gregory's impatience. The crack satisfying, the scream very real. And he'd given a name. Just the one name.

And then all hell had broken loose.

Nathan had shouted. Gregory had run. He'd heard the shots and dashed to the office where Nathan lay on the floor. The shots had come through the window at the back of the house. Gregory lifted the younger man, hauling him on to his shoulder and then dashing back down the stairs.