The Payback (18 page)

‘He didn’t,’ said Tina, stunned that Milne was somehow involved in all this. ‘Parnham-Jones’s suicide was Wise’s doing too. You might have thought you’d killed all The Hunters, but you were wrong. You left the worst one of all alive.’

‘That’s what I can’t understand,’ said Milne, looking puzzled. ‘I had it on extremely good authority that, apart from Parnham-Jones, there were no survivors.’

‘What kind of authority?’

Milne took a deep breath, as if he was reluctant to say. ‘I interrogated the most senior of The Hunters, a man called Eric Thadeus,’ he said at last. ‘I made him give up the names of everyone. He was under a lot of pressure to tell me the truth.’

Tina could believe that. There was a hard yet haunted look about Milne. His face was thin; the lines on the heavily tanned skin deep and pronounced; and his pale grey-blue eyes reflected the darkness that he’d inhabited at times these past nine years, and the terrible deeds he’d done. He was still good-looking, but in a brutal, intense way, and with his greying hair and the signs of plastic surgery round his eyes and nose, he easily looked his age.

Milne frowned suddenly. ‘Hold on. Thadeus did tell me something. I remember now. He said that there’d been a man called Wise in The Hunters, but that he’d died a few years earlier.’

Tina shook her head. ‘No, Paul Wise is very much alive, but I’ve found out something that could destroy him.’ She wondered then
whether she was making the right move by opening up to Milne. But she needed allies, and right then, they were very thin on the ground.

‘And what’s that?’ he asked.

‘If you know about The Hunters, then you know Paul Wise’s background. He was involved in the abduction and murder of a young girl back in England.’

Tina watched as he nodded, the memory crossing his face like a shadow. ‘Her name was Heidi Robes,’ he said. ‘Thirteen years old. I’ll remember the details about her as long as I live.’

‘Well,’ she said. ‘In September 2007, a twelve-year-old girl from New Zealand went missing in Phnom Penh and was never seen again. The following year, a thirteen-year-old Danish girl went missing here in Manila. Again, no trace of her was ever found. But in both cases, Paul Wise was in the country when they disappeared, and in both cases he’d flown in forty-eight hours before, and left within a week.’

‘And you think he was the one who abducted them?’

‘He wouldn’t have done it himself. He’d have got other people to do it. That’s the way he operates. But I know he’s involved.’

‘Any proof?’

‘The man who found out this information, a journalist called Nick Penny who Wise was suing for defamation, was murdered three days ago.’ Tina had to fight to stop her voice from cracking as she pictured Nick, and recalled what had happened to him. ‘Then there was an attempt on my life twenty-four hours later. Definitely not the actions of an innocent man, and definitely no coincidence.’ She paused. ‘And now Wise is in Manila.’

‘And you think he’s going to take another girl?’

‘He’s definitely up to something. Nick Penny was in touch with a journalist here, a guy who wrote a number of articles about the
disappearance of the girl in Manila in 2008, and a possible link to western paedophiles. I can’t get hold of the journalist, which is one of the reasons I came out here. To interview him.’

Milne gave her a strange look. ‘His name wouldn’t be Patrick O’Riordan, would it?’

Tina frowned. ‘O’Riordan, yes,’ she said uncertainly, wondering how on earth he’d known.

‘Then I’m afraid you’ve got a problem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Schagel sent me here to kill O’Riordan. I did it yesterday.’

Tina felt a lurch of shock that was almost physical. It was the calm, even way the man in front of her had just confessed to the murder. He was looking at her now with a mildly regretful, almost hangdog expression, as if he’d done nothing more than traipse dog shit across her living-room carpet, and she was suddenly filled with an intense, unstoppable fury.

Without thinking, she strode across the room, grabbed Milne by his shirt, hauled him to his feet and slammed him into the wall with a force that surprised even her. He made no move to resist as she brought her face close to his. ‘He was just a bloody journalist doing his job!’ she yelled. ‘Like Nick was doing when they murdered him!’

‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘I wish I hadn’t done it.’

‘And that’s meant to make it all right, is it? It’s murder! It’s permanent! Don’t you understand that? What’s wrong with you?’

She let go of him and turned away, unable to look at him any more.

‘Jesus Christ, you disgust me. And you’ve probably ruined the last chance of bringing a brutal child killer to justice. I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself.’ She grabbed another cigarette from the pack by the bed and lit it angrily, keeping her back
to him. ‘Get the hell out of here. Now. Before I call the police.’

But he didn’t move. ‘You won’t be able to get your revenge without me, Tina,’ he said softly.

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘I’ve got leads. Real ones. You haven’t.’

The problem for Tina was, he was right. Without O’Riordan, she had nothing. And that was the other problem. Milne was a cold-blooded murderer. Even being in the same room as him sickened her. And yet . . . In the end, the most important thing, as it had always been, was to get Wise. Even if it meant using the services of characters as unsavoury as Dennis Milne.

She turned round to face him, curiosity getting the better of her. ‘Go on then. What leads have you got?’

‘One: O’Riordan’s wife. I had the keys to his house. They came from somewhere. And O’Riordan had a male lover. It looked like it was serious, which suggests it had been going on a while. So, it’s possible his wife paid him back by setting him up on behalf of Wise, or Schagel. At the very least it means she knows something. There was a report about O’Riordan’s death in the paper this morning which said that the wife had been staying with relatives just outside Manila for the weekend, which is why she wasn’t there when he was killed. And that also strikes me as very convenient. If we can track her down, then she might be able to give us some information.’

‘We?’

‘I told you, I want to help.’

‘And why exactly should I trust you?’

‘Because it’s not going to take long for Schagel to realize that I haven’t killed you. And as soon as he does, he’s going to come looking for me. We’re both fugitives, Tina.’

She considered this for a moment, again knowing that he was
right, and that whatever sins he may have committed, he was risking his neck now by not killing her. ‘OK, O’Riordan’s wife is one lead, and I suppose it has potential. What else?’

‘O’Riordan had a meeting planned for yesterday. I’m sure it had something to do with the reason he had to die. It was scheduled for three p.m., and I had a time limit of two o’clock for killing him. I was also ordered to burn down his house, to get rid of any evidence.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of crumpled pieces of paper, which he carefully unfolded. ‘These are the actual pages from his diary. I’ve got the name of the man he was meant to be meeting. I don’t recognize it, but you might. Omar Salic?’

‘I don’t,’ she said, shaking her head, still shocked by the matter-of-fact way in which Milne was talking about O’Riordan’s murder. But she took the proffered pages. ‘I can look into it.’

‘How about Cheeseman? It’s there next to Salic’s name. Mean anything to you?’

Again she shook her head. Neither name was remotely familiar to her. ‘We’re not getting far here, are we?’ She made no effort to disguise the contempt in her voice.

If he noticed her tone, he didn’t show it. ‘There’s one more thing. I was booked into a crappy hotel on my first night here and the gun I used for the O’Riordan job was already there, under the bed in my room. Whoever put it there probably could not have done so without the hotel owner’s knowledge, which means we need to speak to him.’

‘What makes you think he’ll cooperate?’

Milne fixed her with a hard stare. ‘He’ll cooperate, don’t worry about that.’

Now Tina knew it was her turn to make a decision. Milne had made his by not pulling the trigger. Now she had to decide
whether to continue her investigation alone, or throw in her lot with a wanted hitman.

‘You don’t have to come with me,’ he said, seeing her hesitation. ‘I can go alone, and update you later.’

Tina gave him a grim smile and picked up the gun from the bed. ‘No thanks,’ she said, accepting what she had to do. ‘I’ll come with you. We’re fugitives together, remember?’

Dusk was beginning to make its presence felt, and the hawkers were still hanging round outside the guesthouse I’d been booked into when I first arrived in Manila. As Tina and I got out of the taxi on the other side of the road they immediately swarmed round us and I had to literally swot them away, but still they followed, undeterred, thrusting their fake Rolexes and packs of cigarettes under our noses as we made our way over to the gate.

I pressed the buzzer, and after a lengthy pause the owner’s voice came over the intercom, sounding just as morose as it had when I’d first checked in. I identified myself as Robert Mercer, a guest from the previous day, and said I needed a room for the night again, confident that in a dump like this one there’d always be a room free. I was right, because he grunted an OK, and then a few seconds later I heard his slow footfalls, and the sound of the gate being unlocked from the other side. I gave Tina a look that said that for the purposes of this interview she should leave the questioning to me.

The owner poked his head out and said something
uncomplimentary to one of the hawkers in the local Tagalog dialogue, before giving us a quick once-over, his eyes lingering on Tina just a little longer than necessary. Then he let us inside.

The narrow little yard was empty, and I didn’t hesitate, pulling the gun from beneath my jacket and thrusting it into his side. His eyes widened as he looked down, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Tina turn away.

I fixed him with a cold glare. ‘Let’s go back to your office. We can talk there. If you do anything stupid, I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said, nodding frantically, and I slipped the gun back under my jacket, motioning for him to lead the way.

We walked through the poky little lobby with the empty reception desk facing us, and into a cluttered back room that was part office, part storage area. It smelled of sweat, and the ceiling fan did little to alleviate the hot mustiness.

The owner turned to face us as I brought the gun back out. ‘What do you want, boss? I haven’t done nothing.’

‘Sit down.’

He slumped down into a creaky chair, and I took a step forward so I was standing above him, the gun pointed down towards his belly.

‘You remember me, don’t you?’

‘Yes, boss,’ he said uncertainly, clearly trying to work out what answer I wanted to hear. He was sweating profusely as he stared at me, looking like he might burst into tears at any moment.

I felt sorry for him then, but this was no time for weakness.

‘When I stayed here the other night, there was a gun under the bed in my room waiting for me. Who put it there?’

‘I don’t know what you mean, boss.’

Moving fast, I grabbed his flabby chin and thrust the gun in his
face, ignoring his gasp of terror. ‘Tell me. Now. Someone must have come here. Who?’

Behind me, I could hear Tina shifting her weight uneasily from foot to foot. I’d told her on the way over here that I might have to be a little rough with my interrogation techniques, and she’d acquiesced on the proviso that I didn’t hurt him. I knew I wouldn’t have to. Most people will tell you what you need to know when they’ve got a gun pointed in their face, and this guy was no exception.

‘A man came here the other night,’ he said hurriedly, his eyes almost crossed as he focused on the gun. ‘He said he wanted to leave a package in the room where you were going to stay.’

I pushed the gun harder against his skin, pulling back the hammer, my eyes cold. ‘Give me a name.’

‘I don’t know his name. Honest, boss. He was an
extranjero
. He used to stay here sometimes a long time ago. That’s why I said yes. I didn’t know what was in the package, I promise.’

I believed him. He was crying now, and I didn’t dare look back at Tina.

‘Tell me what he looked like,’ I said.

‘He was a white man. English. Your age maybe, boss. Blond hair, like your friend. And tattoos. He had tattoos. One on his neck. Like a snake or something.’ He tapped a dirty finger on his jugular to demonstrate. ‘Honest, boss. That’s all I know. Please.’

That was when I heard the trickling sound and looked down to see a small puddle of urine forming on the dirty floor. Poor bastard, I thought, reholstering the gun and taking a step back.

‘Thanks for your time,’ I said quietly. ‘And if you ever say a word to anyone about this visit, I’ll come back and I’ll kill you.’

He didn’t reply. He was sobbing silently, urine pooling round his cheap shoes.

I turned away, ignoring Tina’s accusing expression, and together we walked out of there in heavy silence.