The Stealers (28 page)

Bradley was pleased with himself. People always did what he told them to do and he was confident that Bruno would follow his instructions and would rid him of Crane and the two women. In his mind, he felt secure with the knowledge, that he had again regained possession, of the iconic Mustang, for the last time. He had spent the last two nights at a hotel in Westcliff-on-Sea. On his instructions, the transporter driver, followed his car to the hotel. He was gleefully contented as he confidently instructed the driver to offload the Mustang into the hotel car park.

*

Bruno pocketed the mobile phone, walked over to Crane and said, ‘Whereabouts was Ryan when Bradley knifed him?'

Crane paused for a moment before he replied, ‘Ryan drove his car into the parking area on the seafront, next to the aquarium. Bradley owed him money and Ryan had gone there expecting to collect. I saw him get into the passenger seat of Bradley's BMW but it was only seconds before Bradley got out and drove off in Ryan's Mondeo.'

Bruno looked sceptical, ‘How can you be sure it was Bradley?'

‘I was there with Daniella.'

Bruno threw a glance at her and she nodded in agreement.

‘Anyway,' Crane continued, ‘he survived, thanks to Daniella here; she's a doctor. Ryan was lucky but he is still in Southend Hospital.'

Bruno was quiet for a moment before saying, ‘I'm supposed to be meeting Bradley this evening, at that very same car park, after getting rid of you lot.'

Daniella and Penny glanced at each other and shifted uneasily in their chairs. Crane looked at him as he continued, ‘He wants me to take photos to prove that I've done his dirty deed. I'm not into cold-blooded murder. I only got involved because Bradley said he wanted protection.'

Bruno checked his watch; it was six pm. He put the handgun in his jacket pocket and said, ‘Got any ketchup?'

Sounding somewhat relieved, Daniella called out, ‘Top of the cupboard – next to the sink.'

Bruno set to work. He dabbed the ketchup on all of them, to make it look as though they had been shot in the head. Young Andrew looked on with curiosity and of course he had to be included too. Bruno took several pictures with his mobile phone, all from various angles. They all agreed that the images looked impressive enough to fool anybody.

*

When the photoshoot had finished, Daniella and Penny, with their hearts still thumping, leant back in easy chairs quaffing double measures of Scotch whisky. After Bruno had finished collecting up the empty beer cans, Crane handed him a protective vest, ‘Here you'd better wear this, it may come in handy.'

Bruno cast a glance at the item, but scoffed at the idea, ‘Thanks, but I have the advantage of knowing what to expect.'

Crane's words took on a serious tone as he said, ‘He's a very dangerous man to play with; cunning and unpredictable and he can also think fast on his feet. If he smells a rat and even if he doesn't, well you just be careful, that's all. I'll be watching from a safe distance in the hope that I can find out where he left my car.'

*

Bruno drove into the car park just before the appointed hour. Bradley was already there, waiting, like a spider at the corner of his web. Upon seeing Bruno's car enter, he flashed his headlamps twice and Bruno pulled up alongside a dark-coloured Range Rover. Before he had time to switch off the engine, Bruno felt a cool rush of air swirl around the car as the rear door swung wide open. Like a wraith, Bradley slithered inside and positioned himself directly behind Bruno, who sat in the driver's seat. Bruno instantly recalled with trepidation what he had been told and he began to feel uncomfortable with Bradley sitting behind. A shiver ran down the big man's spine and he wished he had taken Crane's advice and worn the protective vest.

Bruno stared into the rear-view mirror; Bradley's face appeared ethereal in the reflected lighting of the car park. He sat on the edge of the rear seat with a small neat holdall perched across his lap. Bruno killed the engine. Bradley leant forward and rested an arm on the top of Bruno's seat. A calm, hushed voice said, ‘Photos.'

Bruno's hand fumbled in his jacket pocket and produced the mobile phone. After selecting the picture mode, he turned in his seat and held it aloft in the palm of his hand. Bradley took the mobile and scrutinised the pictures. After a moment, Bradley said softly, ‘The child; the little boy – you killed him too?'

Bruno's voice faltered slightly as he replied, ‘Well, it err, seemed like the thing to do.'

Bradley was quiet for a moment. In the silence that followed, Bruno felt apprehensive and tense as he recalled Crane's warning. His hand slowly fingered its way towards his jacket pocket. His ears were fine-tuned to the papery sound of money leaving a holdall, or the unsheathing of a knife. Suddenly his ears picked up the short, sharp, ripping sound of a zip fastener, as Bradley opened his holdall and uttered a prolonged, ‘Hmmm… '

With Bradley's razor sharp long knife in mind, Bruno half turned and edged forward in his seat. The heel of his right hand brushed against the butt of his gun. It was ready for action. There was no need to pull the slide back. All he had to do was flip the safety off and thumb back the hammer; a noiseless one-handed job. But he was too late. Two bullets ripped noiselessly through the back of his seat, from a suppressed handgun, and Bruno slumped forward.

Bradley's shadowy figure slipped wraithlike out of Bruno's car then sidled back into the Range Rover parked alongside. He tossed the holdall on the front passenger seat then his hand groped towards the dashboard for the keys, which he had left dangling in the ignition. They were not there. Puzzled, he dived both hands simultaneously into his jacket pockets. They were empty. He was about to lean over to one side to check a trouser pocket, when a voice from behind made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. ‘Looking for these?'

Crane sat in the back seat rattling the small bunch of keys. Bradley's hand darted towards the holdall, but froze when the menacing voice said, ‘Move another inch and I'll blow your head clean off of your shoulders. Now sit up straight.'

Bradley straightened up and said defiantly, ‘What now?'

‘What have you done to Bruno?'

‘Put a bullet in the lying bastard; he showed me pictures of you – dead!'

‘Well, I don't share your disappointment.' Crane pulled out his mobile and called Daniella, ‘Bruno's in his car with a bullet in the back; go and see what you can do for him and get an ambulance.'

In the dim light, Bradley's eyes were sharply focused on Crane using his mobile. It was an opportune moment. Without hesitation, he snatched his bag and bolted out of the door ignoring Crane's shouts of, ‘Stop or I'll shoot!'

He need not have worried, Crane didn't even have a gun, but then Bradley did not know that, as he dodged and weaved his way across the car park towards the edge of the beach. Without hesitation, Crane scrambled out of the rear door. He gave chase, running into a myriad of shadows. He came to a halt, staring ahead looking and listening for signs of movement. He did not have long to wait. A sudden flash, followed by a ricochet, reminded him that he was standing near a lamp post and could easily be seen. Two more flashes followed. He ran in the direction, where he had seen the flash from the gun and then halted once more. He fell to the ground as two more flashes appeared. He now regretted not searching for Bruno's hand gun, before giving chase, but had he done that, he might have lost Bradley's trail altogether. Keeping low, Crane moved nearer to the latest flash, noting that five bullets had been spent; he guessed that the gun had a ten round magazine – five shots to go, unless Bradley had a spare clip.

Crane kept low, staying in a crouching position, listening. A light inshore breeze rustled past his ears, making it difficult for him to any detect movement. A brief lull was interrupted by a sudden raucous sound of the emergency services as they were driving into the car park. Then all was quiet until the sound of feet, scurrying across the sand, propelled him to move forward. The sound stopped and so did Crane. He had a feeling he was being lured. Crane realised it was futile to make sense of a chase in the dark and silently cursed himself for ignoring his own advice, that of the bullet proof vest which he had offered earlier to the unfortunate Bruno.

Crane put himself in Bradley's position. He surmised that Bradley probably realised, by now, that he was being followed by someone who was unarmed and who would lie in wait and attack from the rear. His lack of a protective vest, would make Bradley's task much easier.

Disappointed, Crane thought it prudent to return to the car park. As he neared, the ambulance crew were stretchering Bruno on board and Chief Inspector Harris was talking to Daniella. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Crane's leather shoes slapping hurriedly across the tarmac and they turned in his direction as he jogged towards them.

‘Major Crane,' the Inspector began.

‘It's ‘Mr' now, Inspector – there's an armed man in the shadows along the edge of the foreshore. I haven't got time to explain now but… '

‘Are you getting involved in police matters, Mr Crane?'

Crane realised he needed to be tactful and replied, ‘No, of course not, it's the man who stole my car. He also shot the guy in the Peugeot. I think a chopper would be useful and…'

‘One is already on its way, Mr Crane. I believe you can leave things to us from now on.'

‘It's not quite that simple. I know what he looks like and with due respect Chief Inspector, you don't!'

CI Harris gave a long, hard accusing look at Crane and said, ‘You're not armed – are you?'

Crane smiled and said, ‘Not this time. Are you offering?'

There was a touch of exasperation in Harris's voice as he said, ‘Now, Major, erm, Mr Crane… '

Crane interrupted with, ‘Look, this is who you are dealing with. He's just shot a man here in this car park. He killed a man in Felixstowe. He knifed a man who now lies seriously injured in Southend Hospital. He's wanted for murder in France, where he killed an English woman and buried her. He killed two gendarmes and seriously injured another. He did this in order to free a man on bail who himself was awaiting trial for kidnapping, and, as for the French police, they don't know what he looks like either.'

Harris's eyes narrowed as he said, ‘Kidnapping? Do you know anything about the young girl, Samantha, who was freed by someone called Jack… ' he paused for a few seconds and added with a smile, ‘it was you, wasn't it, Jack Crane?'

‘You know my background and I'd rather you kept quiet about that.'

Harris nodded solemnly and said, ‘That changes everything. I'm throwing the rule book away for now and I'll accept any help that you can give us.'

Their conversation was drowned by the arrival of a police helicopter. Straight away its searchlights and infrared cameras began scouring the area.

*

Crane's theory was right. Bradley had found an ideal niche in which to conceal himself, where he could await his pursuer to pass by and then finish him off once and for all. He waited patiently in his hiding place, but to no avail.

The approaching helicopter, all noise and swirling lights, hovered close by. Bradley was irritated by the intense beams sweeping and poking its bright lights into dark recesses. The machine churned up the shadows around the coastline, ripping out the darkness in its wake but, for Bradley, the up side was that he could clearly see there was no sign of Crane. He figured he would be better off edging his way towards the brightly lit road, amongst the noise and clamour of the amusement arcades. He dodged in and out of the shadows, stealthily hastening his way along the seafront until he came to the pier. He swiftly crossed the road to mingle with an eager chatting crowd, some of whom had their arms raised and were looking skywards, pointing and poking towards the aircraft as it hovered opposite.

It was a Saturday evening and, as usual, there were many people milling around the busy seaside town. This made it very easy for Bradley to get lost amongst the crowd.

*

Crane turned to Harris and said, ‘It's a long-shot, but if I wander along the other side of the road, perhaps you can get the chopper to throw the lights in that area.'

Harris seemed resigned to Crane taking charge and said, ‘I suppose it's worth a try.'

Harris gave Crane a fixed-frequency mobile and said, ‘Look, don't take any chances and keep in touch.'

‘Thanks.'

And on a cautionary note Harris added, ‘By the way, that thing is signed for, so don't lose it.'

As Crane started to move off, Daniella quickly sidled up and said, ‘Bruno's dead, bullet in his heart. Do take care.'

Crane nodded solemnly as Daniella threw her arms around him and whispered in his ear as she embraced him, ‘You may need this.' He felt something drop into his jacket pocket; it was Bruno's handgun. She had removed it from Bruno's clenched fist before the emergency services had turned up. Daniella stood for a moment, watching intently, as Crane strode off and disappeared into the throng, lining the pavements. She was reluctant to go back to the cottage and elected to stay in the company of Harris until she heard from Crane.

Crane tried to brush aside the thought that his next move was something of a lost cause but he felt that he had to try it. One thing was for certain, he knew Bradley's vehicle remained in the car park which meant the criminal would be on foot. Crane walked hurriedly along the pavement. Coloured lights flashed, shimmered and winked as he passed through the Saturday night crowds of people, many of whom were still grouped together in a fixed stare, standing and looking upwards, wondering what was going on. He kept his head down, but his eyes were looking up, scanning as many faces as possible as he traversed the pathway for half a mile, from the Kursaal to the Palace Hotel, but he had seen nothing of his adversary. It was here that his nostrils caught something that stirred his gastric juices. It was the smell of fish and chips, wafting enticingly through the evening air. Crane could not resist throwing a hungry glance through the open door of the late night premises and in doing so, he stopped in his tracks. He witnessed Bradley, standing in line as bold as brass, waiting to be served.