Read Dead Man's Gift 02 - Last Night for Free Online Page B

happens to you.’
    Tim let out a hollow laugh. ‘I haven’t had any control over anything for the last eighteen hours. But how are you going to stop this?’
    ‘You’ll just have to trust me.’
    There was a long pause at the other end. ‘I’ve got to go now. But tell me … Is Orla okay?’
    Jesus, thought Scope, he really must be smitten to worry about her when he potentially had two hours to live. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She’s fine. Now remember, don’t wear that thing. I’ll sort this out.’
    Tim ended the call without answering, and Scope replaced the phone in his pocket.
    ‘So, what are they going to make him do?’ asked Orla.
    ‘You don’t want to know,’ said Scope and pulled away from the kerb as a blue-capped traffic warden approached. Right now, Frank Bale was untouchable, and would be until he left the police station.
    And with just over two hours to go until the hearing started, Scope was going to have to think of something fast.

17
    It was 10 a.m. and Ealing cop shop was like a furnace. Someone had turned the thermostat up to tropical rainforest setting and Frank Bale, who felt the heat at the best of times, was sweating like a pregnant nun. He’d just had a meeting with the SIO of the local murder squad who were investigating the sexually motivated killing of an eleven-year-old girl in her home, in what appeared to be a burglary gone wrong. The inquiry had ground to a halt and the powers-that-be were considering getting Frank’s unit involved to try to get things moving again. And, after the meeting that Frank had just had, it was clear his expertise was needed. The local SIO was out of his depth, and you couldn’t have that in a case like this. Child killings – particularly those involving strangers – always created a lot of heat, which, Frank thought, was ironic under the current circumstances. He didn’t have any kids himself. A low sperm count had put paid to that. His wife had been disappointed. Frank hadn’t. He’d never liked them.
    Even so, he got no pleasure from what was happening to Max Horton. Nor what was going to happen in a few hours’ time, because the thing was, there was no way he could be released. Kids had good recall, and under questioning from trained police officers, Horton junior would almost certainly be able to throw up a few decent leads, however careful his kidnappers had been. And Frank couldn’t afford that. He’d originally tasked Phil Vermont with killing him and disposing of his corpse, knowing that an amoral lowlife like him would have no problem with it, as long as the money was right. Now that he was dead, Frank was going to have to rely on Celia to do it, although from the sounds of her, she wasn’t going to have any problem either. Either way, Frank wanted to avoid getting blood on his own hands.
    As he walked back to his car, he flapped open his suit jacket to let the frigid air cool him. In truth, he felt uneasy. He didn’t like the fact that this guy Scope was running round looking for him. He remembered the name from the siege at the Stanhope Hotel two years earlier. Scope had performed a few heroics and taken out a couple of terrorists Bruce Willis-style, just like he’d taken out Phil Vermont. Frank was pretty sure Scope wouldn’t be able to find him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. In the Jag’s glove compartment was a short-barrelled 9mm pistol with a suppressor attached – a gift from his boss, in case of emergencies. He reached over and got it out now, fitting it to a shoulder holster underneath his jacket, before pulling out of his parking space.
    It was time to do his good deed of the day.

18
    They’d been driving round in circles waiting for Frank Bale to make his move for the past hour. Scope had told Orla what the kidnappers wanted Tim Horton to do – in the end, he’d seen no reason not to – and it was obvious that the knowledge of what she was a part of had come as a huge shock, because she’d been largely