To Kill Or Be Killed (14 page)

Chapter
40

Liverpool

Midnight

In Wally’s
living room there was uncomfortable silence. Tony was in the loft
sending and receiving transmissions. Down in the lounge Ginny, red
eyed and exhausted was hugging a weeping and sobbing Tara. Jaz was
outside in the garden smoking a cigarette with Ginny’s father, who
had been called over for moral support. In the kitchen Shadz was
making tea with Ginny’s mother.

“You look a bit
fit to be a smoker if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Jaz gave him a
weak smile and said “I gave up ages ago. It’s been a shock
tonight.”

“I can imagine.
I didn’t know he did this kind of work.”

“You’re not
meant to.”

“Ginny knew he
did this then?”

“Yes, but
partners and spouses sign the act too, though they don’t know
exactly who their partners are working for, it’s very secret.”

“Does your
partner know what you do?”

“Yes she
does.”

“Oh sorry.”

“No need to be
unless you had plans.”

Ginny’s father
flushed and stuttered. “I didn’t mean… you know.”

Jaz put her
hand on his arm.

“It doesn’t
matter.” She said quietly.

“He was a
lovely fella. I can’t imagine him doing this kind of work. Who
exactly are you people?”

“I can’t
say.”

“Oh… will you
get this bastard then?”

“Oh yes… we
bloody well will I can tell you.”

“Tea up Jaz, Mr
Mayhew.”

“Cheers. You’re
a scouser Terry…”

Jaz went in.
Tara’s sobbing had subsided. Tony was in the door way, he stood
beside Jaz and Shadz joined them.

“We’re leaving
Terry here on guard; he’s got family in the city.

Ginny’s mother
had sat down beside them. Tony moved into a space in the room in
front of them and steeled himself.

“Ginny. We have
got to go. We’re going to get on the trail of this man, Cobb. Terry
has offered to stay.”

Ginny had been
through the anger with them, the shouting, the blaming them,
blaming the people Wally worked for.

“Will you take
that gun away please, the one in the cabinet in the loft?”

“Yes.”

“Id like Terry
to stay, I don’t feel safe, even though I know he isn’t after
us.”

“Okay.”

“Wally knew
your boss well didn’t he?”

“Yes they
worked a big case about twenty years ago. Jack will come up here
personally I’m sure.”

“Will you kill
this man?”

“We’ll try not
to, though it looks like Cobb and the others that came in with him
are death or glory types, especially after what’s happened at
Perth. I’d rather he was put on trial, along with the people who
hired him, that can only happen if we catch him alive.”

“What happened
at Perth?”

“There was
another shoot out, one dead assailant one dead police man and his
dog.”

“It’s
awful.”

“What Wally was
doing was a part of all this. We have to stop these men before they
do whatever it is that they think killing innocent people is worth
the price of.”

With that they
said their goodbyes. Tony took a last look at Ginny and Tara. He
fixed in his mind the image of Wally’s corpse and their faces. It
would determine him, harden him to the task. He carried them grief
before him as a warning and a torch to light his way in what was
becoming a very dark journey.

Chapter 41

Perth Scotland

Midnight

“Right the one
at the Marina is Cobb.”

“Right.”

“Spencer was
the dead one on the track.”

“Right.”

“Wheeler was
the one who escaped the hospital.”

“Right.”

“That leaves
Mason to be the one on the train.”

“Right.”

“A booking was
made in the name of Townshend weeks ago, but Spencer was in that
sleeper.”

“Right.”

“Except Mason
didn’t show up on the CCTV for Inverness and evidence from CCTV
linked to a stolen white Alfa shows someone like Mason on the
industrial estate where it was taken.”

“Right.”

“Which means
there’s a fifth man.”

“Dewey missed
one then.” Beaumont said finally.

David
nodded.

“Let’s tap into
the CCTV footage of Inverness. You know before we left London I was
looking at Spencer on the screen and something bugged me about the
man at the next cashier. It was the same thing that bugged me on
the platform.”

They pulled up
the CCTV footage.

“Trains, planes
and automobiles.”

“What?”

“Well, one
bike, one boat, one train, one flight which leaves walking.”

“Or
hitching.”

“Right.” David
ran the footage and froze it on Stanton. It was hard to see his
face clearly, but for a second McKie caught a glimpse at one eye.
He ran the footage on and there was a look of recognition from
Spencer as the fifth man passed.

“Spencer knew
this guy. They could have met on the train. We’ll arrange
interviews with restaurant staff and have the girl at Inverness who
served him interviewed too.”

McFarlane had
been sat in silence quietly stroking his dog. Too old for the duty
rota he spent time knowing his city and the people in it.

“Your man has
probably gone down river. He’ll head for the motorway and hitch. If
you pull up the map I’ll show you where it joins.”

“Good John.
That’s a thought.”

“He’ll kill the
driver of course.” Beaumont added gloomily.

“Why?”

“No
witness.”

“That could
mean he killed the driver who took him to Inverness. Jack said to
check missing persons.”

McFarlane
pulled up the map on the laptop. The M90 was clear as a scar on
sunburn, threading south.

“Edinburgh or
Glasgow?” He asked.

“No idea.”
David was stumped.

“I like the
idea of Glasgow.”

“Call Jack and
have him send a duty team to Edinburgh, we’ll go Glasgow way
tomorrow.”

“After we’ve
talked to the police and some of the staff. If only we had an image
of the fifth man.” Beaumont suddenly brightened. “Couldn’t you try
and sketch the face you saw on the platform, the way Dewey
did?”

“I can’t draw.
I’d know him if I saw him.”

“I can draw. I
was a graphic designer. I still do some freelance work. Get that
Inverness image up and we’ll add any changes.” McFarlane left the
room to get a sketch pad and a portable scanner.

“Okay. The man
on the platform had a goatee beard for a start.”

Half an hour
later they had the sketch of their fifth man, scanned it in and
sent it to Jack at DIC centre. Jack told them they’d have to
decrypt the MI6 site again, that could take until sunrise. Fulton
agreed they should head for Glasgow. He also suggested that there
might be more than five. He added to their knowledge by telling
them of Sternway’s conversation, crackly as it was, and that it
might implicate him in whatever plot was unfolding. He explained
about the police being called to a burning Alfasud on an estate in
Glasgow. Mason was probably there too and Wheeler could be holed up
there. There was no doubt that Glasgow should be their next
stop.

They tossed a
coin for the spare room and Beaumont won. Exhausted and troubled
Beaumont and McKie went to sleep, David with his hand gun on the
arm of the sofa. The slightest of noises woke him all the way
through the night.

Chapter
42

Just outside Perth

Midnight

It was a
sopping wet and exhausted Stanton who stood at the edge of the M90.
He had swum three miles down stream, knowing that the thermal
imaging helicopter was checking the ground to the south of the
station. He heard dogs and sirens, but kept swimming on, freezing
and as the night wore on the rain got stronger, a veritable
downpour. In the end the weather was to his advantage. He skirted
the A94 and crossed fields to get to the Glasgow bound section of
the M90 and risking being spotted started walking, soaked and muddy
along the hard shoulder. Exhausted as he was he knew that he must
keep going, the risk of capture now held years in prison and he had
been free too long to suffer a cell.

Cars were few
and far between and none would stop for the sopping figure, most
having heard the news at least on the radio; man on the run. It was
looking grim as at any moment one might connect and do the good
citizen thing.

The rain lashed
at him and he shivered uncontrollably. It was in his mind to get
out of the country. Find a friend and leave this mission behind,
money or not.

A sympathetic
lorry driver saw the sopping figure way ahead and as Stanton held
out his thumb the HGV truck and trailer slowed and pulled into the
hard shoulder a hundred metres ahead of him. Stanton gathered his
strength and ran to the open cab door and dripping rain water
climbed up.

“My god friend
you are soaking, wait a minute whilst I put a blanket on that
seat.”

The driver
turned and delved into sleeper compartment at the back of the cab.
Stanton took his chance with the man’s back turned, slid the
wrapped weapon out of his coat, and without taking it out of the
bag, gripped it and shot the driver in the back of the head.

Blood spattered
the sleeping compartment as Stanton made sure of the man with two
more shots. He covered the body with the blankets and duvet,
spending ten minutes neatening it up, just in case he was stopped.
He found the man’s bag of spare clothes and put the baggy items on,
just to be dry. He quickly checked the man’s paperwork.

Tom Welby had
been fifty-seven years old, driving his lorry from Dundee down to
Glasgow. What Stanton didn’t know was that Welby was divorced and
hadn’t seen his grown up children in years. He spent most of his
time on the road and so he was a lonely man always looking for
company. He had paid a high price for his loneliness, his humanity
and his sympathy.

Stanton found a
towel, dried his hair, put the heaters on full blast, drying
himself, though he turned them down when the smell of blood began
to pervade the cab.

After a half
hour stop to make himself warm, dry and look normal, Stanton rammed
the gears home and drove the lorry away, concentrating fully and
remembering the HGV training he’d had in the Foreign Legion.

Chapter
43

Glasgow

Midnight

Wheeler, light
headed as he was, still had enough sense to stay away from the city
centre. He’d hidden all day in Kelvin Park, but was still fairly
dry having found the shelter of thick bushes and trees. It dawned
on him that there was CCTV in the city and he was dressed somewhat
oddly. He decided that the best way out of the city was a bus. He
headed for the bus station on Killermont Street having skirted the
city centre and having walked for miles.

He stopped on
the way at a pub for a stiff drink. The bar was full, it being a
Friday night. He picked a dowdy, rough looking pub on purpose;
they’d not be too fussy about his mode of dress. He played the down
and out to the letter, bought whisky, with a frowning up and down
look from the landlord and sat in the corner for half an hour
watching the screen above him. He had to stay there as long as
possible, because he knew he’d be sleeping rough. There was no
football, but the sports channel was on. It was around last orders
that the breaking news came through about Perth and then the marina
killings. Wheeler inwardly groaned. The Secret Service people were
on to them for sure and he’d be on their list. He bought another
whisky, dipping into the white bin bag for change.

When the pub
closed he made his way to the bus station, but aware of CCTV
decided to sleep nearby. He chose a building just opposite Port
Dundas Place which had trees and bushes at its edge. He found a
shielded spot, gathered leaves, grass sticks and branches and in
the now pouring rain lay down in a depression in the ground,
amongst bushes. He slowly and carefully covered his body with the
camouflage materials and lay shivering. His plan was to get fresh
clothes, change at the bus station and get on the soonest bus for
London.

Wheeler lay
sleeping in the bushes unaware the building he was sleeping near
was Police head quarters. The police went about their night’s
business unaware that the man they were searching for was fast
asleep covered by moss leaves and branches at the very edge of
their grassed frontage area on the Cowcaddens Road.

Chapter
44

Harlington Road
Bedfordshire

Midnight

The white
plumber’s van chattered discontent as Mason came off the M1 and
took the Harlington Road. After a brief drive around he found a
wooded area just of Toddington Road and near Harlington Station,
which gave him two ways out. With a military approach he
camouflaged the van, locked up and settled down in the back with
snacks and drinks he’d bought at services along the way. Within the
hour he was curled up in the back of the van pistol in his hand.
Uncomfortable, but tired enough to sleep like that and happy at
least to be safe, he was hidden, and dry, which he knew from long
experience was vital if he was to keep up energy and fitness
levels.

Chapter
45

Manchester

Midnight

Cobb had driven
as fast as caution allowed down the M62, switching to the M6 and
finally the M56. His plan had been to find a hotel near Manchester
airport. He knew he could park the car amongst the hundreds in the
car park, stay overnight and get a plane very early.

Having
negotiated the car park and got himself a room on the ground floor
of the Bewley’s Hotel on Outwood Lane. Even without a booking and
at that time of night he was able to get in. The airport located
hotel had round the clock staff ready to ‘make a buck’ on the odd
hours of travellers.