Someone Else's Conflict (38 page)

As the man sprawled behind him, Jay paused, trying to decide which way to go. There was a loading door at the far end of the room and a smaller door to his right. The sound of someone clattering wildly down stairs on the far side of that one caused panic to rush in and fill his mind in place of the pain he'd been anticipating a moment before. His overriding thought was that he was too late. Lek had fired. The bastard had probably never intended to spare Lucy. The thought made Jay feel sick, but he forced himself to suppress it, along with jumbled questions about why Lek hadn't waited for the chance to gloat as he forced Jay to witness the girl's torment.

He snapped his focus back; whatever had happened, Lek was on his way down. Jay checked Novak's pistol as he moved quickly to the door, familiarising himself with a model he didn't know. He had no time to do anything but hope. The footsteps drew level with the door and Jay braced himself. He saw the fleeting image of a figure running past, caught a momentary snapshot of a young woman's face as she passed. Too surprised to question how or why, he reached the door and looked after her down the corridor. From a room at the end to his right he heard the jarring rattle of a can being kicked, and a scrabbling which suggested she was making her escape.

He was about to follow her when he heard the sounds of a struggle in the room above. He'd been an idiot to assume there were only two of them. Before he could beat his own retreat he heard a curse in a language and a voice he recognised, and the new wave of fear that coursed through him was sharper, more real, than anything he'd felt all morning.

Vinko.

As he rushed up the stairs, wondering how on earth Vinko came to be there, he saw the boy from Paševina looking into the upstairs room. Jay ignored him, readied the gun and peered round the door at the top.

A movement to his left drew his attention. Lek was waiting for him. He had Vinko held against the wall. The lad struggled ineffectually, his arms pinned behind him, a large dark stain spreading across his sweatshirt from a nasty-looking gash in his neck. Vinko's knife lay on the floor, out of reach, the blade glistening with blood. Lek's pistol touched the side of his head and he froze.

Jay forced himself to look away from Vinko's scared eyes to stare at Lek. He appeared older, much older, but the cold eyes were the same and he was still strong. Strong enough to hold Vinko in his weakened state.

‘I'm here as you asked.' Jay's voice was hoarse. He spoke in Croatian – someone else's story
.
‘Let him go.'

Lek barked a laugh. Didn't move. ‘Why, Šojka?' he replied in the same language. ‘This is why we're here.'

Jay steadied the gun in his hand, trying to aim at Lek while missing Vinko. Lek tightened his grip roughly.

‘My reactions are fast, remember, Šojka? You shoot and I shoot.' He gave Vinko a slight shove and more blood oozed from his neck.

‘Let him go. I've got the money. Take it and I'll give you more. Soon – tomorrow. Whatever you ask for. Don't—'

‘It's not about the money.'

‘But—'

‘I got you here. That's what it's about.' He stared at Jay, holding him motionless. Out of the corner of his eye Jay saw the boy from Paševina, watching. ‘You took
her
. You turned Ivan against me. You took my freedom—
No!
Don't argue. This is my time. Now it's your turn to lose something.' He shoved Vinko and the lad's yelp of pain was like a knife to Jay's old wound.

‘This won't bring anything back! Let him go, Lek, for fuck's sake. He's nothing to do with it!'

‘He's everything.' Lek's expression was impassive. He shook Vinko with each phrase. ‘He's a worthless, lying little bastard. Like his father. But he matters to
you
.'

Jay stared at Lek, and past him to the boy from Paševina. The boy gave the tiniest nod. Deal. Jay spread his arms, bracing himself against what was to come. ‘So it's me you want.'

‘No, Jay, don't!' Vinko protested and Lek twisted his arms cruelly. Three pairs of eyes held Jay. Vinko's scared but defiant, Lek's cold, victorious; the boy's merely curious.

‘Go on.' Jay tightened the grip on the gun in his outstretched hand, ready to swing it round as soon as Lek shifted his attention from Vinko. ‘Take me. What are you waiting for?'

Lek laughed again. ‘Oh, no. Not so simple, Šojka. I could have you. Easy. But dead men don't feel guilt. Dead men don't suffer.'

The two men stared at one another, each waiting for the other to waver. Jay despaired. As soon as he moved, or as soon as Lek had enough of his game, Vinko would die or get seriously hurt. He knew Lek could do it. His arms began to tremble and ache but he held himself steady, terrified that any movement would be the other man's cue. The cold air of the warehouse grew thick and heavy. He was aware of vague sounds from outside, but none of it mattered. Help seemed impossible. Without taking his eyes from Lek he was aware of the boy. He longed for him to intervene; knew that was impossible, too.

Lek smiled slowly. ‘Ready for this, Šojka?'

The silence that followed was sliced by a shrill sound from the phone lying on the window ledge behind Lek. He ignored it but the instant the tension was broken, Lek's attention faltering briefly, Jay brought the gun round with nothing to lose, aimed just enough to miss Vinko, and fired. He was aware of two shots but in a frozen moment had no idea who had reacted first. He vaguely heard Lek's gun clatter to the floor as, sick to his heart, he watched Vinko, his hair sticky with blood, sink to his knees.

Before Jay could react, the lad shoved away, leaving the older man clutching his shoulder, lunged for his knife and plunged it into Lek before stumbling a few paces and sinking down again, his strength spent. Lek fell to the floor behind him.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Jay grabbed Lek's gun and threw it and the one he was holding as hard as he could across the room, out of reach. He knelt by Vinko, tearing his own shirt off to staunch his wounds. He realised with relief that the stickiness in his hair was not the lad's own blood and fought down panic as he pressed the fabric to his neck, not knowing whether he was doing any good or causing more damage. In his helplessness the years melted and he wondered when it would ever end.

‘It's OK, Vinko, it's all right.'

‘All right? It fucking
hurts
.' His voice was small and he tried to smile but his attention was wavering. ‘But thanks. I'm sorry, I tried…'

His eyes fluttered closed.

‘Shhh. Stay still. Stay awake. We're safe, it's going to be all right.'

He willed Vinko to believe him, though he didn't know himself if he was speaking the truth this time. He couldn't look away but sensed the boy from Paševina had gone and hoped that was a good sign. Footsteps rang through the building and Jay called out that it was safe; heard himself shouting for help, an ambulance, as he felt Vinko getting weaker. Hushed voices grew louder, and with relief like a soft drop of rain in the desert of his fear, he heard Polly's among them.

‘So that was you?'

Polly nodded and squeezed his hand as they watched the medics carry the stretcher towards the waiting ambulance. Jay tried to shrug off the cumbersome shock blanket and follow. She held him, told him to stay where he was, sitting on the dirty floor against the wall. He was shaking.

‘He's in the best place. You can't do anything more right now.'

‘I want to go with him. I'll answer all the questions they want, but later. Just—'

‘You'll be following all right – you're in shock yourself, Jay. Let go for a few moments. Give yourself a chance.'

He relaxed slightly under her touch and shrugged, stared in the direction of the ambulance.

‘Tell me, what was he doing here? What were
you
doing here?'

She glanced around, clearly as conscious as he was of the police activity around them. He was certain someone was listening to her words. Let them. They had nothing to hide now.

‘You didn't imagine that either Vinko or I would just let you go like that? As soon as we realised you weren't going to call us, he was off. I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to.'

‘I bet you hardly tried.'

‘Well, it seems he met Matt on the way out. You know, if it hadn't been for Matt I might not have come. I mean, I can understand he was upset, of course, but… I'd phoned the police, the minute Vinko left. And then there was Matt, ranting and raving as if it was all my fault. I couldn't take any more of him. I ran here – Vinko and I had worked out the most likely building while we were waiting for you. And I saw your scarf. Just before I literally bumped into Lucy. She told me how Vinko freed her and she'd seen you. Well, she thought you were one of
them
, but she doesn't know you.'

‘An easy mistake to make.'

‘But I do. You know when it's a crisis, you do things without thinking? I was sure it was you. No way could I just stand there, but I had no idea what to do either. I got her to tell me the way she'd come and by the time I got to the bottom of those stairs I saw sense and stopped, realised how stupid I was being. What use could I be? I'd only put myself, you, in more danger. I heard you and
him
. I couldn't understand either of you, but I could hear Vinko was distressed and then the silence obviously meant some kind of stand-off. Vinko had given me those numbers and…and I had some mad notion that I could distract Lek; even if I couldn't talk him round, at least give you some time. Oh, Jay.' She squeezed his hand, close to tears. ‘I'm sorry, I could have killed Vinko.'

‘But you didn't. You saved us.' He glanced in the direction Vinko had been taken. ‘I hope.'

Chapter 31

The interview room was the same as the one she'd spent much of the previous day in – it may even have been the same one – and Jay looked alone, sitting at the bare, graffiti'd table. He was staring into space, fiddling with the collar of the regulation overalls. Marilyn recognised the gesture, remembering the way he twisted his scarf in his fingers. He turned and his expression brightened as the duty officer showed her in. She smiled back. He looked weary. She hesitated inside the door, watching him stand, glancing at the policeman by her side and unsure of the protocol.

‘Is it OK for us to have some privacy?'

The officer nodded. ‘We're just outside.'

Oblivious to the door shutting behind her, she found herself in Jay's arms, revelling in the feel and familiar smell of him.

‘I'm so glad you've come,' he murmured.

‘I'd have stayed with you if they'd let me.'

‘I know.'

‘You shouldn't be here! It's not fair. You're worn out.'

‘There's a man dead. And a lot more for me to be complicit in.'

‘They can deal with that later! You're not going anywhere, can't they see that?'

‘Obviously not. And do you blame them, honestly?'

She responded by kissing him, trying to forget their surroundings. He held her as if they'd never be parted again. They drew apart and sat close, holding one another's hands tightly.

‘How's Vinko?' he asked. ‘They've told me he's OK, but nothing more. “It's you we're here to talk about,” was all the reply I got. I've been going out of my mind. I'm desperate to see him.'

‘He'll be fine. That wound's more superficial than it looked; it was the loss of blood, on top of him being so exhausted, that was the danger.'

‘Apparently Vesna's being a star.'

‘The proverbial protective tigress.' Marilyn had warmed to Vesna, touched by the fondness she already felt for a nephew she'd only just met. ‘She's got her solicitor looking after his case. And she's hijacking both the hospital systems and the police investigation to establish definitively that he's Ivan's son. She'll have him an identity before he's in a fit state to know what to do with it. Apparently her home's his, as soon as he's able to go there and for as long as he wants it. She told me she's not only pressing for leniency for his part, but she'll have them on their knees apologising to him.'

‘What for?' he asked with a smile.

‘She'll find something.' She turned serious. ‘She says she's got to stop
him
apologising.'

‘He should know—'

‘You saw what he was like when we met – was it only yesterday morning? He really feels he betrayed you and that's why Lek got to you, why all this happened. He even blames himself for his grandparents' murder.'

Jay looked down at their intertwined hands.

‘Will you be seeing him? If I can't go, tell him from me – I really mean this, Polly – he's got to stop talking like that. No more guilt. Tell him not to let Lek win.'

His head was bowed, his face hidden.

‘Look at me, Jay.'