‘He’s a survivor,’ said Sean. ‘He’ll do whatever it takes to survive. If that means running, then he’ll run.’
Hellier sat on a bench in Regent’s Park waiting for the friendto call. He had said he would call at seven. It was now almost half past.
What was this damn game? Hellier had no friends. No real friends. Most likely it was a journalist, trying to set him up. He stared at the phone in the palm of his hand, willing it to ring. He had to know who the friend was. His overpowering need to control everything meant he simply had to know. Once he knew, once he decided whether they were a threat or not, he would deal with them accordingly. After that, home. The children he would leave alone, but his wife; she would be his parting gift to DI Corrigan.
The police would be watching his home though. He would have to be careful. He would let his wife take the children to school in the morning. He would fake illness. When she returned, he would be waiting for her. After he’d finished with her he’d spend the rest of the day running the police around town. He would lead them a merry song and dance for hours. They could never stay with him for that long. Not him. He knew their tactics too well. And once he was certain he had lost them, he would disappear.
By the time they became suspicious and broke into his house, it would be too late. He would be thirty thousand feet above their heads. A false passport was already waiting for him in a Hampstead fine china shop. Once he collected the tickets, he would catch a train to Birmingham. His flight for Rome left at 8 p.m. After a two-hour wait at Rome Airport he would board a connecting flight to Singapore. Two flights later he would arrive in his new home.
His phone began to vibrate. He answered it calmly. ‘James Hellier.’
‘It’s me,’ said the friend’s voice. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘I don’t like being kept waiting.’ Hellier wanted to dominate. ‘This is your last chance to impress me.’
‘Oh. You’ll be impressed. I can guarantee that.’ Hellier sensed a change in the friend’s voice. He thought he could detect an arrogance that hadn’t been there previously. There was a hint of danger, too. He didn’t like it.
‘I’m going to ask you a question,’ Hellier responded, determined to take charge, show his strength. ‘You will answer yes or no. You have three seconds exactly to answer. If you answer no or fail to answer in the time allowed, I will hang up and we will never contact each other again. Understood?’
‘I understand.’ The voice didn’t argue. Hellier had expected he would.
‘Will you meet me?’ Hellier asked. ‘Tonight?’
‘Yes,’ the friend answered on the count of two. ‘As long as you promise you’ll do one thing.’
‘I don’t make promises to people I don’t know,’ Hellier answered.
‘Stay away from other people until we meet,’ the voice asked regardless. ‘No bars or restaurants, and don’t go home or to your office. The police will be waiting there. Stay alone. Stay hidden.’
Now Hellier understood. In that second it had become all too clear to him. It all made sense. His eyes opened wide as he realized who he was speaking with. Who else could it be?
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll do as you say until we meet.’
‘I will call you, later tonight, and let you know when and where. Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’ Hellier hung up.
What did his friend expect? That he would hide in a bush in the park, like a frightened, wounded animal? Not him. This was London, one of his favourite playgrounds. And he had so little time left to play.
No. He had better things to do than cower and wait.
‘I know who you are, my friend.’ He spoke to himself. ‘And when we meet, you’ll tell me a thing or two. Then I’ll feed you your own testicles, before I gut you like a pig.’
Sean arrived home late, again. He’d hoped Kate would be in bed, but as he quietly opened the front door he could sense her presence. He followed the glow coming from the kitchen and found her tapping at her laptop, hair tied back, heavy glasses adorning her fine-boned face. ‘You’re up late,’ was all he could think of to say.
‘You’re not the only one who has to work late. I work too, remember?’ This was not how Sean wanted the conversation to begin. He’d had enough conflict for one day. ‘I need to get this plan for restructuring the A and E Department finished or I might not be part of the new structure myself.’ Again Sean didn’t answer. ‘You’re not really interested, are you?’
‘Sorry?’ Sean asked over his shoulder.
‘Never mind,’ she snapped, shaking her head with disapproval. ‘We’ve been invited to dinner at Joe and Tim’s next weekend, so make sure you book the night off, all right?’
‘Err …’ escaped Sean’s lips.
‘Well, I’m overwhelmed by your enthusiasm at the thought of spending an evening with me,’ Kate said sarcastically.
‘It’s not you,’ Sean tried to assure her.
‘I thought you liked Tim, and there’ll be other people there too,’ Kate encouraged.
‘I don’t know Tim. I’ve met him, but I don’t know him.’
‘Come on, Sean,’ Kate appealed. ‘Just book the time off.’
‘It’s not that easy, is it?’
‘Why?’ Kate asked. ‘Can’t you bear being away from your police friends even for one night?’
‘They’re not my friends,’ Sean answered too quickly.
‘Whatever, Sean, but you know and I know that you can’t stand to be with “non-police” people,’ Kate simulated quotation marks with her fingers, ‘because you’re all so fucking important that the rest of us mere mortals might as well not exist. True?’
Sean waited a long time before answering. ‘Don’t swear. I don’t like it when you swear.’
‘Well stop giving me so fucking much to swear about.’ Sean turned his back. ‘Come on, Sean,’ Kate softened. ‘I don’t sell insurance for a living, I’m a doctor in Guy’s A and E. Whatever awful things you’ve seen, I’ve seen them too, but I manage to lower myself to speak to people who live normal lives – so why can’t you?’
‘Because they’re …’ Sean managed to stop himself answering truthfully, but it was too late.
‘Because they’re what?’ Kate pursued him. ‘Because they’re boring, because they bore you?’
‘Jesus, Kate,’ he protested. ‘Give it a rest, will you?’
‘So you’re never going to speak to anyone again who isn’t a cop?’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s the truth.’
Sean grabbed a bottle of bourbon from one of the kitchen cupboards, a glass from another and poured himself a generous measure. He took a sip before speaking again. ‘Christ, you know what it’s like. As soon as people find out what I do, all they want to talk to me about is the job, fishing for the gory details. They haven’t got a bloody clue. If they did, they wouldn’t ask.’
‘Maybe it’s us who haven’t got a clue, Sean,’ Kate said quietly. ‘Maybe we’re the ones who’ve got it all wrong, wasting our lives knee-deep in life’s crap.’
‘Why, because we know the truth? Because we know life isn’t really a shiny advert?’ Sean argued. ‘I’d rather be awake and live in isolation than be like all those mugs out there, walking around without a fucking clue.’
Kate breathed in deeply and cleared her head. She’d dealt with this before and knew she’d have to deal with it again. ‘Is this about your childhood or about being a detective?’
‘Oh, come on, Kate. Let’s not get into that, not now,’ Sean answered.
‘Okay,’ Kate agreed. ‘But if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.’