Lady of the Shades (29 page)

‘What’s going down?’ I ask.

‘You are,’ he smirks. Then he slams shut the roof of the trunk and plunges me back into darkness.

When the roof lifts again, Alan Langbein is standing beside Sebastian Dash. The two men haul me out of the trunk, Dash wisely taking my head in case I lash out with my bound
feet. They drop me to the floor. We’re in an oak-surrounded glade. As I roll on to my back, I spot a third figure behind the others — Bond Gardiner.

‘This is the man you claim killed Mikis?’ Gardiner rumbles.

‘Ed Sieveking, the one and only,’ Dash agrees.

‘He told me his name was Edgar Sanders, that he was writing a book.’

Dash laughs. ‘That might not have been total bullshit. This is the
famous
Ed Sieveking. Surely you’ve read about his critically acclaimed work in the
Times
or the
Guardian
? Modern classics like
Nights of Fear
and
Winter’s Shades
.’

‘
Summer’s Shades
,’ I correct him automatically.

‘A regular on the best-seller lists,’ Dash presses on. ‘The most successful horror writer of his generation.’

Gardiner grunts. ‘I’m not much of a reader.’

‘I’ve never heard of him either,’ Langbein frowns. ‘And I read a lot of horror. Are you sure he’s a best-seller?’

Dash rolls his eyes. ‘I was taking the piss, Alan. This poor fucker couldn’t even give away copies of his lame potboilers, could you, Brad?’

‘Fuck you,’ I grunt.

‘With a limited vocabulary like that, one hardly need wonder why,’ Dash grins, then addresses Gardiner again. ‘I didn’t expect you to recognize his pen name. I bet you
know this one, though — Elland Severin.’

Gardiner’s eyes widen. ‘The assassin?’

‘Bingo.’

‘But he retired years ago.’

‘And swapped his gun for a typewriter — or is it a computer, Brad?’

‘A computer,’ I sniff.

‘Why do you keep calling him Brad?’ Gardiner asks.

‘That was his original name, Brad Severs, the name he went by in the army. We go back, Brad and me. Recruits together. He knew me as Simon Dale. Didn’t have much time for me or my
buddy, Parson McNally. A couple of his friends wound us up. There was a fight. Parson and one of Brad’s compadres didn’t walk away from it. I went to prison, Brad went free. A few years
later we were hired by Carter Phell, though neither of us knew about the other. A woman brought us together. The beautiful Belinda Darnier — now the savagely scarred Antonia Smith.

‘I paid Brad back for the mess he made of my life,’ Dash continues. ‘But I was merciful. I could have killed him, but I didn’t. I thought that was the end of our feud.
Obviously he had other ideas.’

‘How’s
Belinda
these days?’ I sneer.

‘Wealthy. Not as pretty as she used to be, though plastic surgery took care of the worst of the damage. She’ll flip for joy when I tell her about this. She always wanted me to finish
you off. She would have hired somebody else, except I told her I didn’t think –’

Bond Gardiner coughs, cutting Dash short. ‘I didn’t come here to listen to you settle old scores. I don’t know what the deal is between you two, and to be honest, I don’t
give a fuck. All I want to know is who killed Mikis and why.’

‘Brad did!’ Dash booms.

‘Is that true?’ Gardiner asks me.

‘Yes,’ I sigh.

Gardiner’s shoulders sag. ‘Why?’

‘Too long a story. Can’t you just accept my confession and leave it at that?’

‘No!’ he barks, then eyes Dash. ‘Do you know why he did it?’

Dash shakes his head. ‘I haven’t a clue.’

‘Tell them what they want to know,’ Langbein growls, kicking my left thigh.

‘Might as well, Brad,’ Dash says. ‘We aren’t leaving till you do. I’m no sadist, but you know I can get nasty when I must, and hot-headed Alan here was born to
dominate, weren’t you, Alan?’

‘Too fucking true,’ Langbein laughs. He’s acting tough, trying not to appear out of his depth, but I can tell he’s new to this. I catch a quick look between Dash and
Gardiner. I know what it means and take slight comfort in the knowledge that I won’t be the only one joining the ranks of the dead today.

I see no point in playing out the hand to the last. I’d like to think I wouldn’t crack under duress, but everybody does. There’s only so much pain anyone can withstand before
the tongue starts working by itself. I’d rather go out with my dignity intact than wind up whimpering beneath the feet and fists of Alan Langbein. Besides, this way I can hold back the
details I’d rather not reveal, such as Joe’s involvement. ‘It started on a boat,’ I begin, and take it from there.

It’s a long, convoluted story, even condensed, and the sun is rising by the time I finish. I tell them about my initial meeting with Andeanna, the name she gave, falling in love, learning
her true identity, killing the guard, getting rid of the body, plotting to kill the Turk, finding the newspaper while I was waiting for my train, meeting with Andrew Moore, Gardiner, Greygo and the
psychic. They listen in silence, bar a few hissed curses from Dash when I describe how I set him up.

There’s a long pause when I finish. I’ve regaled them with a story that each of the trio will carry to his grave. When they’ve forgotten my name, and maybe even their own,
they’ll remember Andeanna’s and recall this tale of supernatural love, murder and deceit.

Dash finally breaks the silence. ‘The crazy bastard’s telling the truth.’

‘No,’ Gardiner says. ‘He
thinks
he is, but he isn’t. He can’t be.’

Dash chuckles. ‘You don’t believe in ghosts?’

‘No.’

‘How about you, Alan?’

Langbein shakes his head. ‘This is too fucked to be true. He’s mad as a hatter. We’ll be doing him a favour when we kill him.’

Dash has been leaning against the car. Now he steps away from it and turns slowly, gazing around at the dawn shadows. ‘Are your ghosts here with us?’

I glance at the shades of those I’ve killed, standing in a line in front of me, sketched against the morning landscape, faces alight with expectation, but otherwise calm now that the end
has come, waiting patiently, feeling no need to mock me in my final moments. ‘Yes.’

‘Where are they?’

I nod as much as I can. ‘Over there.’

Dash squints. For long seconds he says nothing. Finally, disappointed, ‘Nope. Can’t see them.’

‘Nobody can. Only me.’

‘Maybe they’re just in your head.’

‘Maybe,’ I smile, knowing that that isn’t so.

He faces me, his expression oddly compassionate. ‘I sometimes dream of the people I’ve killed, and those are never easy nights. To face them every day when you’re awake . . .
’ He shudders, then glances at Gardiner. ‘Heard enough? I don’t want to stick around any longer than we have to.’

Gardiner looks uncertain. My story has shaken him. He regards me warily, as if I’m contagious. ‘This isn’t right,’ he mutters.

‘You don’t believe him?’ Dash asks.

‘He’s told us all he can, but there’s more to it. Someone set him up, just as
he
set
you
up. It couldn’t have been a ghost.’

‘Whatever,’ Dash shrugs. ‘I’ve cleared my name and exposed the lunatic who framed me. If you want to chase it further, that’s your business.’

‘Let’s do it!’ Langbein hoots. ‘Let’s spill this fucker’s guts!’

Dash and Gardiner share an amused smile. How can Langbein not see what’s coming? I almost feel like warning him. If he wasn’t such a dick, maybe I would. But anyone who’ll kick
a man when he’s down doesn’t deserve fair warning.

‘What do you say?’ Dash asks Gardiner. ‘Are we done or not?’

Gardiner nods reluctantly. ‘I guess we are.’

‘We’re squared? You’ll spread the word that I didn’t kill Menderes?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sweet.’ Dash grins, raises his gun and fires twice.

Two bullets shatter Alan Langbein’s breastbone and make jagged red-white shards of his chest. He slams against the car, arms flying out Christ-like. Blood coughs from his mouth, spews over
the ground in front of him, then he sinks to the floor, limp, broken, dead.

‘Alas, poor Alan. I knew him, Horatio,’ Dash deadpans.

‘Show a bit of respect for the dead,’ Gardiner scowls.

‘You agreed to it,’ Dash defends himself. ‘I wouldn’t have cared if he’d lived – he couldn’t touch me – but you’d have been a marked man. It
was only a matter of time before he came looking for a pay-off. Men like Langbein get greedy.’

‘I know,’ Gardiner says, ‘but I don’t like it. Killing a cop’s a messy business.’

‘Not this way,’ Dash disagrees. ‘It’ll look like they shot each other. We don’t have to worry about dumping the bodies or having them traced back to us. It’s
the perfect solution.’

‘You don’t think they’ll tie Langbein or Sieveking to Mikis?’

‘Why should they? Alan wasn’t working on the Menderes case, and Ed is just a writer. They’ll wonder what it was about, turn over a lot of stones in an attempt to find out, but
if we keep our mouths shut, who’s to know but you and me?’

‘Andeanna,’ I answer quietly.

The two men stare at me, Dash contemptuously, Gardiner uneasily.

‘All right,’ Dash smirks. ‘Apart from the ghost.’

‘Whoever set him up,’ Gardiner says. ‘I can’t slip away like you. I have to stay and deal with the fallout.’

Dash shrugs. ‘We’ve all got our crosses to bear. I doubt it will go any further than this, but it’s your problem if it does. All I want to know is, are we done with Brad? Is it
time to kiss the sweet prince good night?’

Gardiner thinks about it. ‘Yes,’ he says, and starts towards Langbein’s cooling body.

‘What are you doing?’ Dash asks, the slightest hint of tension in his voice.

‘Getting Langbein’s gun,’ Gardiner says without slowing. ‘We’ve got to make it look like they shot each other, right?’

‘I can fetch it,’ Dash says quickly, taking a defensive step to his left.

Gardiner looks over his shoulder, notes Dash’s stance and turns, hands spread flat by his sides. ‘This is very simple,’ he growls, ‘so I’ll only say it once. This
sack of shit killed Mikis Menderes. Mikis was like my brother. I swore revenge and I’m gonna make good on that vow. If you have an issue with that, our relationship is about to take a very
serious turn for the worse.’

I see Dash weighing up his options, deciding whether or not he can trust Bond Gardiner with a gun. For a moment it looks like he’s going to object, and my heart leaps with the slightest
tinge of hope — if these two start taking potshots at one another, I might walk away from this yet. Then Dash smiles. ‘Be my guest,’ he says magnanimously, and there goes my
future.

Gardiner makes his way to the sprawled body of Alan Langbein, pulls on a pair of thin plastic gloves, uses a nearby twig to swish back the corpse’s jacket and prizes the dead
officer’s gun from its holster. Dash watches warily.

Gardiner slips up behind me. I listen with resigned dread as he approaches, marking every step. I don’t fear death, but now that it’s upon me, I can’t say that I welcome it
either. The thought of entering the vast abyss fills me with fear. I know that Andeanna is waiting for me, but maybe I’ll have to pay for my crimes. Perhaps my ghosts will attack my spirit,
keep us separate, subject me to an eternity of torment.

Gardiner towers above me. Turning my head, ignoring the rope about my throat, I watch as he cocks the pistol, then lays the tip of the barrel to my temple. I want to shut my eyes and wait for
the end in darkness, but I can’t. My eyelids won’t work. I’m forced to bear witness to my own death.

‘Hey!’ Dash snaps. I flinch, anticipating gunfire, but Gardiner’s finger relaxes and he looks questioningly at Dash. ‘You can’t do it like that.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s supposed to look like they killed each other,’ Dash says, exasperated, hurrying over. ‘How’s he meant to have shot Alan with a bullet plugged through his
skull at point-blank range?’

Gardiner scowls. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

‘No,’ Dash agrees. ‘You weren’t.’

He glares at me, then tucks his gun away and bends. ‘Grab his feet,’ he tells Gardiner. ‘We don’t want to leave tracks.’

They haul me away from Langbein and stand me up. I immediately drop to the floor. I’m not going to make it easy for the bastards.

‘Get up,’ Dash snarls.

‘Fuck you.’

‘Hold him up for me,’ Gardiner says to Dash.

‘The fuck I will,’ Dash snorts.

Gardiner smiles. ‘Still don’t trust me?’

‘It’s not that. Bullets can ricochet. The best marksman can miss. If you think I’m going to stand next to him while you take aim, you’ve got a fucking screw
loose.’

‘OK.’ Gardiner kneels beside me. ‘Sieveking.’

‘Gardiner,’ I reply politely, grinning in spite of everything.

‘You made a good impression on me in the pub. I confided in you because I thought you were a man of honour. Now you’ve made a fool of me. I don’t like that. I want to take you
back to my manor and let the boys play with you, put you through the kind of hell you don’t even want to imagine. But Dash is right — killing you here, making it look like
Langbein’s work, is the simplest solution for all concerned, yourself included.’

‘You want me to stand and take it like a man?’ I sneer.

‘If you don’t, I’ll pump a bullet through each of your knees, bundle you into the trunk and let you suffer the ride back to London, where the real pain will begin.’

I consider my options. A few more hours of life in exchange for a shitload of suffering. Not an attractive proposition. Of course, as long as I’m alive, there’s a chance I might
escape. Gardiner could crash, or be pulled over by the police. The odds would be against me, but . . .

No. One look at Gardiner’s face and I know he doesn’t make mistakes. All I’d have to look forward to would be the shattered knees and torture. It isn’t worth it. My
number’s up. ‘Get on with it,’ I growl, and let them drag me to my feet.

While Gardiner retreats, measuring his paces as if fighting a duel, Dash studies me. ‘This isn’t what I wanted, Brad. You forced my hand. I couldn’t let you –’