Harrigan and Grace - 01 - Blood Redemption (44 page)

‘What is it, Lou?’

‘Something you should see. I came out to see you earlier but you were preoccupied.’ She smiled a slow, sardonic, alcoholic smile as she glanced around at the room. ‘Thought I’d better wait. You need to know about this. You might like to get some other people in here as well. Gracie, you need to look at this too. This is a different sort of picture,’ she added very quietly.

They gathered around the monitor. Grace sat in her chair, back a little and staying out of the way. She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Ian handing her a fresh cup of coffee.

‘Don’t worry about it, Gracie,’ he said quietly, ‘Jeffo’s just a shit.’

She smiled at him out of pure relief.

Harrigan noticed the small communication and briefly wondered about everything and nothing that might exist between the two of them, before turning his attention to the screen.

‘I went looking for the Avenging Angels,’ Louise said a little creakily. ‘I thought, they’ll be there somewhere. If people enjoy sending out photographs like the one they sent out, they’ll be on the web somewhere, showing off. And sure enough, there they were. This site moves around. You’ll see why. It’s amateurish, I’ve got to say, you could do better. There’s no talent here. The Firewall would do a better job, she’s got some imagination. But you’ll see. Here we go.’

The site opened to the tinny sound of a drum beating and the words

‘Avenging Angels: Abortionists made to face God’ appeared on the screen. A set of doors opened and the sound of gunshots rang out in the background. An angel with ammunition belts slung around its hips pointed with a handgun to a poster on a brick wall in an alleyway.

‘Bounty Hunters Wanted,’ the poster said, ‘Generous rewards offered for the destruction of persons performing abortions, those who authorise child-killing, and the buildings that house these Hellholes.

Whether you work for God or the Devil (and let the Devil’s own kill each other, we say) the Avenging Angels are prepared to pay good money for the bringing of these mass murderers and the witches who serve them before the ultimate court, God’s tribunal. Be a hero. Save a child. Guarantee of payment on receipt of positive proof of destruction, death or disabling.’

‘This is serious?’ Harrigan asked.

‘That’s what I asked myself. I thought, someone’s playing a bad joke on me and I didn’t come down in the last shower. No, it’s serious.

Here’s the proof,’ Louise replied.

A gallery of eight pictures titled ‘The Damned’ appeared on the screen while the background noise became one of children crying.

‘Here we go. One more time.’

Louise clicked on a picture of Agnes Liu marked with a red slash.

She was standing in a supermarket car park at a location presumably somewhere in California, with her sunglasses in her hand and a bag over her shoulder. The words ‘Bounty Paid’ appeared underneath.

‘For your information, that bounty isn’t small. Whoever shot the doc got $20,000 US for it. Which is even better in Australian money. And here’s the piccie our friends sent the doc the morning Hurst shot her.’

The image of Dr Laura Di-Cuollo expanded to cover the screen.

The words ‘Bounty Paid’ were also stamped underneath it.

‘There’s a whole file of names and addresses and photographs in there of people who’ve got prices on their heads and where you can find them if you want to.’

‘Is there anyone else we know in there?’ Harrigan asked in his neutral voice.

‘No. These lucky people are all Americans and Canadians. I guess they just picked on the doc because she was in California for that little while. They thought she was fair game.’

‘Where is this site?’

‘Don’t know. I’ve got a trace out on it but I can’t give you a location just yet and they might shut me out any minute.’

‘Who are these people?’ he said.

‘Oh, no, Boss,’ Louise was grinning, ‘they don’t go around telling people who they are. They just put everybody else’s name out there.’

It wasn’t quite what he had meant.

‘Who got $20,000 US for shooting the doc?’ he asked.

‘The preacher,’ Grace replied. ‘Lucy Hurst doesn’t have it.’

‘Neither does he, Gracie.’ Trev, swallowing a mouthful of hamburger, had appeared later than everyone else and stood in the background.

‘We’ve checked Fredericksen’s finances backwards. That money’s not there.’ He moved forward. ‘So is Hurst working for them? With them?’

‘Maybe they’re using her,’ Grace said.

‘Might be she’s using them,’ Louise replied.

‘Hurst hasn’t been back online?’ Harrigan asked Grace.

‘No. Her mobile’s dead, I think. If that’s the only means of connection she’s got, we won’t hear from her again until she can steal another one.’

Harrigan looked at his watch.

‘All right. We pick that information up and we follow it. Meantime, we still wait. We watch the preacher. We take the phone calls. We keep monitoring. As soon as anything moves, we’re onto it.’

The crowd dispersed, Louise leaving the room with them. Grace turned her chair back to her computer screen and buried her hands in her long hair, then looked up to see Harrigan standing at her elbow.

‘Yeah?’ she said.

‘Come and talk to me while I’ve got a little time, Grace,’ he said very quietly. ‘Come and enlighten me on a few matters. You owe me an explanation. More than one.’

Grace looked at the screen.

‘What if she comes back on?’

‘If she does, Louise will be here, she can get you back in. I’m going to my little Greek café around the corner for an ouzo and water and to remind myself there’s another world out there. You can join me there if you want to.’

Not long after he’d left the room, Louise returned. She might as well have been listening to them talk.

‘Take a break, Gracie,’ she said, ‘go and get a cigarette. I’ll keep an eye on things for you.’

‘Will you?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll call you,’ the older woman replied. ‘Go have a fag. Indulge yourself. Life’s too short. Too short for anything.’

‘Thanks, Lou.’

Grace smiled and left, in desperate need of nicotine. In the women’s toilets, she washed away her smudged make-up, feeling too worn to replace it. The cold water on her face revived her. Returning to the office she saw that several other people had also left to get some fresh air. She slipped out. Those remaining noticed that she was gone, checked that the boss was also out, and drew their own conclusions.

Outside, the lights of the tower office blocks burned spangled gold in the rain, a chequerboard of light and dark. The streets were empty, more as a consequence of the weather than the lateness of the hour.

Debris littered the footpaths but the rain was reduced simply to a storm, the strength of the wind had dropped. Grace parked illegally, working on the belief that no one would be delivering goods or handing out parking tickets on a night like tonight. The café was empty. Yellow lights gleamed on dull wood and polished grey linoleum. The man with the silver and black hair tied back in a ponytail stood behind the counter, looking a little more crumpled than he had that morning. He recognised her as she walked in.

‘He’s out the back,’ he said. ‘Do you want anything?’

‘Coffee. Do you have anything to eat?’

‘Yeah, I can get you something. Go and sit down.’

The room smelled the same as it had early that morning. Harrigan sat at the table in his shirtsleeves, drinking an ouzo and water and eating a bowl of some sort of meat stew. His pager and mobile sat on the table where he could see them. He smiled at her.

‘You did come,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know if you would.’

She smiled and put her cigarettes on the table.

‘Light up if you want.’

‘No, I’m not going to do that,’ she said. Coffee and a simple meal arrived on the table in front of her. ‘What’s the food like here?’ she asked after the counterman had left.

‘Basic,’ he replied. ‘It’s just fuel. It’ll keep you going.’

She started to eat just as he finished.

‘Talk to me, Grace,’ he said. ‘Tell me why I threw Jeffo off the team just now.’

‘Are you sorry he’s gone?’

‘That’s not the point. And you know that. You can tell me. Is there anything else out wide that I need to know about right now?’

Grace ate in silence for a few moments.

‘It’s not Marvin,’ she said. ‘It’s Baby Tooth. I was at the Academy with him.’

‘Lucky you,’ Harrigan said with genuine sympathy, forbearing to ask if she’d had the pleasure of knocking back the attentions of Tooth junior, who was noted for going after anything that could wear a skirt.

‘It’s like father, like son with them, isn’t it? It was our last night. We were having a party and he got legless. Me and a friend took him back to his room so he could sleep it off. And guess what? He had these exam papers on his desk. They had “Embargo” all over them, he’d got them from head office. He cheated at every exam and he still didn’t do that well.’

‘Grace, I thought you had a brain. Tell me you didn’t.’

‘I didn’t, it was my friend. He was so mad, he went and dragged the principal out of bed. That was Sweet Freddie, wasn’t it? He didn’t want anything upsetting his retirement. He sent it up the line to head office. Nothing happened. Until graduation, when the Tooth walks up to me smiling from ear to ear and tells me ever so quietly I might as well quit now and not waste my time because if I don’t I’m going to be really sorry. He’s spent the last eight months proving it. I’ve seen that picture stuck up on a lot of walls. And I know it’s still out there.’

‘What happened to your friend?’

‘He already had another job. In London. I didn’t know that. He’s a forensic accountant. He’s making a fortune over there.’

She tried to laugh it off. Come to London with me, Gracie, but I don’t want anything like babies. She could hear him saying it.

Everything between them had died there and then.

Harrigan watched her as she ate in silence for a little while longer and then pushed the plate to the side, the food not quite finished.

He walked out on you, didn’t he? Dropped you right in it and walked away. I’d treat you better than that.

‘That wasn’t too bad,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to be polite.’ He watched her light a cigarette.

‘That’s a nasty story.’

‘It’s just a story.’

‘The Tooth can’t do anything to you while you work for me. But don’t ever do that again, Grace. You never hit anyone. It doesn’t matter how much they provoke you.’

‘Well, I did,’ she said. ‘Maybe I’m only human. Maybe I got pushed too far.’

He wanted to say, you can’t be human and do this job; you’re too human, that’s your problem. In the brief silence, his mobile rang. It was his surveillance team.

‘He’s on the move,’ the voice said. ‘It’s bucketing down out here and the visibility is very bad. This is not going to be easy.’

‘You don’t lose him,’ Harrigan said. ‘It doesn’t matter what happens.’

Grace was looking at him expectantly.

‘The preacher’s on the move,’ he told her.

‘We should get back in.’

‘In a moment. You still haven’t been straight with me, Grace.’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Not completely. Don’t tell me you have.’ He had finished his drink and sat leaning his elbows on the table. ‘Marvin’s dangerous but the most he can do is run you out of your job. Don’t think I don’t know what that means. But the people we’re dealing with right now will do a lot more than that. You tell me. Do they know you? Just give me an honest answer. I need to know.’

Grace ground out her cigarette and was faced with a fundamental inability to lie.

‘Yes, they know who I am. I don’t know if they’ve made the connection yet.’

She sat back, feeling cold, her heart beating strongly. She was afraid and her hands were shaking badly. She refused to look at him.

Harrigan leaned his chin on his knuckles.

‘Fredericksen has,’ he said. ‘From the moment he laid eyes on you.

He recognised you again today and he threatened you to me. He knows exactly who you are.’

‘He can only have seen my picture. I don’t know how he could know who I am just from that.’

‘You’ve got a face that’s very easy to remember.’

‘It’s just a face,’ she said. ‘Anyway. They took my picture. One day when I was on my way into the city clinic. They hassled me, I showed them my warrant card and I sent them on their way. I shouldn’t have, should I? They remembered my name. They sent me one of their lovely letters saying they knew where to find me.’

‘They had your address and you didn’t tell me that?’

‘You didn’t need to know.’

He was silent, staring at her. He could not quite believe what he was hearing.

‘When did this happen?’

‘Just before Christmas,’ she said, again not looking at him.

He did the mathematics while Grace lit another cigarette. She was still not looking at him.

‘You could do that, could you?’ he said, very quietly.

As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. Unexpectedly, he had felt the nudge of the prohibitions he had been taught during his boyhood, an unexpected repugnance that she could have had an abortion. He didn’t want to feel that.

She looked at him, drawing on her cigarette. ‘Yes, Paul. I could do that.’

Her tone was icy. There was silence.

‘I don’t need this,’ he said.

‘That’s all that matters, is it?’

‘It does when I’m holding everything together.’

‘This is not your business,’ she said angrily. ‘It won’t stop you wrapping this up.’

‘If something happens to you, who goes to see your family? I do.

These lunatics shoot people they think deserve to die. Do you think I want to knock on your family’s door and have to tell them something like that? You don’t get paid to take risks like this.’

Grace shook her head. ‘Isn’t it my life? Don’t I make that decision?’

‘Not while you work for me.’

‘No? Do you know you don’t give people much space, Paul? You like to organise them too much. You think you know how they ought to feel and what they ought to do. Maybe you don’t.’