Angel of Death

‘He enjoyed it, too. He always tries to get in a trip to other islands. It was a good last day.’

‘Last day?’

‘Yes, he has left to sail back to Piraeus, we won’t be seeing him for a few weeks.’

She stared fixedly at the computer in front of her. So Alex had left. Why so soon? He hadn’t mentioned leaving. He hadn’t even taken the time and trouble to see her, say goodbye. Had he left because he couldn’t be around Elena? Did he still feel the same about her?

Or was there something more sinister behind his departure? If that had been Sandra on the jetty at Delos why had Alex walked past without doing a double-take, without appearing to recognise her? It was such an odd coincidence that Sandra should have been there the same day.

She put a hand up to her mouth, struggling with sickness. Had it been Sandra? What if her imagination was playing tricks on her again?

At times she didn’t know what was real and what only existed in her own head. Last night she had dreamt of Tom again, of his drowning cries, and then the dream had changed, she had been in the office listening to the terrifying sounds from the bathroom across the courtyard. Her mind danced with death, day and night, and Alex was part of it all.

What if he had gone away so that someone else might come here, while Alex was safely in Piraeus, with a perfect alibi?

Was someone coming now, to kill her?

Terry got a phone call from Bernie on the following Thursday morning. ‘I’m told she is somewhere abroad, definitely not in this country, but her whereabouts isn’t on the police computer, so my friend can’t find out that way.’

Terry’s teeth ground together. Hoarsely he asked, ‘Is there a way he can find out?’

‘Only by going down to London, somehow making contact with the detective in charge of the case. Apparently my friend knows someone in that station, but he’s not keen to turn up out of the blue, could be dodgy. Might arouse suspicions in his direction. Obviously he isn’t keen to break cover like that. He has a reputation to protect.’

‘I’m sure you could persuade him, Bernie.’

‘Maybe – but you’ll owe me, Terry.’

The casual manner did not disguise the underlying demand. Terry had been expecting to have to pay a price. He was not surprised, but his heart sank. How much more was this going to cost him? He had been paying ever since it happened – in torment of mind as much as money.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll pay up. How much?’ he asked resignedly.

Bernie laughed and something in the sound made Terry wince. ‘I wouldn’t ask you for money, old son. No, no. Not between old friends like you and me.’

‘What then?’

‘You’re into this modern technology . . . what do they call it? IT? Doesn’t mean a thing to me, but my boys are up to speed on all that stuff and they think you could be very useful to us. They’ve checked you out and they’re impressed. They tell me you’re a growing strength in that market.’ He paused, softly said, ‘Are you ready to help us out if we ask?’

Terry smiled with bitterness. ‘Of course, Bernie.’ What else could he say? If you ask for a favour you have to repay it. You get nothing for nothing in this world.

‘Good boy,’ Bernie purred. ‘Knew you would, knew you would.’ A pause, then he asked, ‘Tell me, if you’re so hot on technology, why didn’t you tap into the police computer yourself? My boys tell me it’s possible. What they call a hacker can tap into anything, even the government or army computers, they say. Even break into the revenue boys’ computers and we’d all like to do that. Why didn’t you try?’

‘I did, that’s how I knew she was definitely in the witness programme, but I couldn’t find an address. I thought there was some other data somewhere under a code key I couldn’t find. How soon can your policeman get to London and meet up with Maddrell?’

‘I’ll talk to him today, try to get him to go down there right away. That will depend how he’s placed at the moment, whether or not he can take a day or two off. He won’t want to make it obvious, he’ll have to have a good reason for going to London. I’ll be in touch when he comes up with anything. Oh, and one or two of my boys would like to come down to look around your business, get an idea of what you’ve got and where you’re at. OK?’

‘Delighted,’ Terry managed to get out. ‘Ask them to give me a ring about it first, I’ll give them lunch and show them round myself.’

He put down the phone and sat staring out of the window, facing the fact that he was back in that world for good now, would find himself up to his neck in dirty water from this moment on. Easy to imagine the uses Bernie and his boys would put the business to, they would move in here and take over, and there was little he might be able to do to stop it. If he argued he might well end up with a bullet in his head, and then they would run the factory, using Sean to cover what was really going on.

Sean wouldn’t have a clue how to fight them. They would blackmail him with the murder, terrorise him; especially if they had already killed Terry himself. The boy had been brought up soft, spoilt. He thought he was clever, thought he was tough – but he didn’t know what the words meant.

Terry put his hands over his face, groaning. My boy. My boy. What’s going to become of him now?

Chapter Eleven

It was raining heavily as Sergeant Neil Maddrell arrived for work that August morning. Shaking his wet umbrella in the entrance lobby he looked gloomily out at the grey sky. Some August! He hadn’t had a holiday so far this summer.’ Time he did. Somewhere hot where the weather was reliable. Spain or Italy. He would go into a travel agent and get some brochures, hunt out a cheap trip to the Mediterranean. Spend a couple of weeks lying on the sand, sunbathing. Not thinking. Not worrying. It sounded great.

He found a fax on his desk from Chief Inspector Carol. Merry Christmas to everyone at the station although they were careful never to use the nickname in his presence. George Amos Carol had no sense of humour whatever; he would not have laughed. Heavy in body, heavy in nature, with greyish wrinkled skin and a large nose, like a horn, he prowled the station like a rhinoceros, charging at everyone he met, barking out questions and orders, terrifying young constables who dithered and dropped things under his stare.