48 Hours - A City of London Thriller (43 page)

The truth hurt, and he remained silent.

“
I think it’s safe for me to give you these now.”

I handed over half a dozen 9mm parabellum bullets.

“
Enjoy your freedom, Arthur.”

He slammed the door behind me as I left, and I walked down the
street. I hadn’t gone far when a young MI5 operative stepped out of
the shadows.

“
All done?” he asked, and I nodded.

Chapter
90

Thames House, Millbank, London November 20th 2010,
3pm.

Timothy Madeley stood in his second floor office looking out
over the Thames with his mobile phone to his ear. He listened as
one of his operatives checked in from Turkish Cyprus, one of the
favourite destinations in the sweep, won by Audrey in
administration.

“
Mr Hammond has done his part, sir. Hickstead is now in
possession of the means and he has sufficient motive.”

“
But does he have the courage, Boyle, or will he need helping
along?”

“
Hard to say, sir. I guess if he doesn’t do it this evening he
might rally tomorrow and start considering his options.”

“
We can’t allow that to happen, Boyle. Either he goes himself
or someone will have to help him along. But it must look like he
took his own life, or Hammond will smell a rat. Giving the old man
the means to take his own life was one thing, but knowing he had
participated in his execution might just be more than Hammond’s
morality can take.”

“
Understood, sir. I’ll be in touch again before you retire for
the night.”

Madeley clicked off his phone and sat down at his desk. In his
view, Hickstead had two options. First, accept that he was
penniless and defeated and end it all before he lost what was left
of his self-esteem. Second, get drunk tonight and wake up tomorrow
realising that the tabloids would pay a small fortune for his
story.

The second option was unacceptable. Lord Hickstead would be
reported as having taken his own life in Madeley’s report to the
Prime Minister tomorrow, one way or another.

Chapter
91

The Janus, Northern Cyprus. November 20th 2010,
5pm.

Dee climbed off the jet ski onto the jetty and removed her
life jacket. She was still laughing. I suspected that she had used
jet skis before when she continued to circle my jet ski and spray
me with surf as she banked. I tried banking my jet ski just the
once, and fell off. I wondered if the whole of our married life
would be as competitive as this, or whether two weeks after the
whitest of weddings her affection for me was waning.

I had to admit, however, that for a wedding arranged at just
four weeks’ notice, Dee, Jayne and Lavender had done an amazing
job. We tied the knot in a historic chapel which had probably
looked much the same nine hundred years ago when it was built in
the grounds of Falsworth Hall near Reading. My heart skipped a beat
when I saw Dee in the dress for the first time. She looked
spectacular. When I heard that Jayne’s friend, and Avant-garde
fashion designer, Li Li Sung, was making the dress, I had imagined
something offbeat and probably weird. I was wrong. It was a
traditional white bridal gown, decorated with white Swiss
embroidered love symbols from every continent.

Now to be honeymooning on a private yacht – well, my parents
would be boasting about it to their friends in the Midlands for
years to come.

Dee lay on the recliner, covered with a towel to dry off. I
sat on the recliner beside hers. I stared at her but couldn’t tell
if she had her eyes open or closed through her densely tinted
sunglasses. My eyes were drawn to her recent wounds; the scarring
would diminish over time, but she had refused reconstructive
surgery. Her arm had circular scars front and back, but her thigh
had only one noticeable scar, at the front. The emergency surgery
in the Tottenham Press office had been done so well that there was
now just a small line of scarring where the stitches had
been.

Dee wasn’t worried about the world seeing her scars, and had
been moving around the deck in her swimsuit the whole voyage. She
had seen me looking and beckoned me closer, pulling me onto the
recliner and pressing her lips to mine.

“
Josh, it seems to me that you’ve done your job for Queen and
Country, and now is the time for some recreation.”

“
We’ve just been jet skiing,” I pointed out.

“
Bedroom based recreation,” she said coyly, before sitting up
and nodding towards the stairs to the lower deck.

***

Arthur Hickstead fully understood the message that the
Establishment wanted him to take from Hammond’s visit. Essentially,
it was expected that he would take the quick way out, drink the
Clés des Ducs Armagnac, watch his last sunset over his panoramic
window view, and blow his brains out with his service
weapon.

He had to admit they had given him little option. With just a
couple of thousand Euros left to his name, he would be penniless in
a month.

It had crossed his mind to go to town and use his gun to rob a
bank, but he knew he would be no good at it, and on this small part
of the island they would probably track him down inside an hour.
There was nowhere to run to.

But Arthur Hickstead had come up with a different plan. The
Establishment hadn’t won yet.

***

Stuart Boyle rang Thames House. He needed instructions.
Madeley answered the phone.

“
Sir, Hickstead in on the move, and he is
carrying.”

“
Hell’s teeth! Can’t he take a hint?” Madeley said
impatiently. “OK, you’d better follow him. He might have decided to
make his exit sitting on the sand watching the sun drop over the
horizon. If he doesn’t take care of it himself, you’ll have to make
the message a little clearer. Use his own gun, if you
can.”

Boyle strode off in the direction Hickstead had
taken.

Chapter
92

The Janus, Mediterranean Sea. November 20th 2010,
6pm.

We were still making love when the engines started up. We were
both surprised because we had expected to cast off after
dark.

“
Shall I see what’s going on up there?” I teased.

“
Don’t you dare. Your duties down here aren’t even close to
being completed yet.” She was becoming excitable, and I was
inclined to stay the course.

***

“
Lord Hickstead, this is insane. Put the gun down and we’ll
talk this out,” Boyle shouted from the jetty.

Hickstead held the gun steady against the first mate’s head as
he shouted back. “Radio me when we have a deal that lets me live my
life out in luxury. I will kill everyone on this boat if I have to,
but this is just to show that I’m serious.”

Boyle took his gun from his holster, but by the time he raised
it he had taken a bullet from Hickstead’s gun. At this distance the
Browning Hi Power had sent a 9mm bullet through Boyle’s stomach and
out of his back, just missing his kidney. Boyle fell to the floor
cursing, as uniformed men poured onto the jetty. As one of the men
pressed a pad onto his wound, Boyle used his mobile to stutter out
a brief report to Thames House.

***

I was lying on the bed with Dee beside me; we were both
covered with a sheen of perspiration and feeling dozy when we heard
shouting. Dee sat up, immediately alert, and signalled for me to
remain silent. A shot rang out. It was unmistakable, and it was
very close. A powerful handgun had been discharged from the
deck.

Dee quickly pulled on a pair of shorts without taking the time
for underwear and then grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled it over her
head. By now I had pulled my shorts on and was about to leave the
saloon and make my way to the deck to see why we were accelerating
away from the dock. Dee pulled me back.

“
Josh, it must be Hickstead. Don’t ask any questions, just
keep him busy for a few minutes while I get organised. Don’t
forget, he’s armed, but we’re not.”

***

I reached the deck to find the Captain operating the yacht
from the auxiliary console. Normally the Captain would be in the
deckhouse running the yacht from where he had full radar and radio
coverage. But there was an auxiliary console and wheel on the top
deck for those occasions when the owner wanted to be in the sun and
feel the salt in his face. From his position below, Hickstead could
ensure Captain Poulter did as he was told whilst still holding the
first mate hostage.

When I came up onto the deck I found the first mate sitting
down on a bulkhead with his hands fastened behind his back by his
own belt. I looked into the distance and saw a group of uniformed
men running around with radios. Good, I thought; help would soon be
on the way.

“
Sorry, Boss.” The first mate’s voice was slurred, and I
noticed that blood was pouring down his cheek from a wound on his
temple. “He asked permission to come aboard to give you a message
from home, and as soon as I turned around he belted me with the
gun.”

“
It’s OK, Sean, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have
shot him myself earlier, when I had the chance. No-one would have
cared.”

Hickstead overheard our conversation, and laughed.

“
Josh, you don’t have it in you. You’re not man enough. When
Sir Max had to go, I dealt with it. Then Andrew was about to cave
in and I had to kill him, too. As you said earlier, I am a killer,
you are not, and that’s a weakness.”

“
Or a strength, for most people,” I retorted.

“
Why don’t we give your lady wife a call? I’d like to
congratulate her on your recent nuptials.”

“
Leave her out of it. You are quite mad. You do know that,
don’t you? You’ve strayed way over the line that separates sanity
from insanity.” I hoped I was giving Dee enough time to do whatever
she needed to do.

“
You have a lot to say for a man with a gun pointed at him,”
Hickstead spat. “Now, call your wife or I’ll shoot you in the gut,
just like your spook friend on the jetty.”

Sean confirmed that Hickstead had fired a potentially killing
shot before I had reached the deck. I had heard it for myself,
after all. I made a play of shouting for Dee to join us on the
deck. I was surprised when she replied.

“
Coming, Darling.”

The boat shuddered to a halt, and the Captain looked
surprised. Hickstead pointed the gun at him.

“
What’s going on? Don’t try me. I have plenty of bullets for
you all.”

“
I have no idea,” the Captain answered nervously. “I’m not
doing this. It should be working fine. All of the gauges are
showing normal readings. I don’t understand it.”

“
Oh, that might have been me,” Dee said in mock apology,
holding up a length of cable with exposed copper cores at each
end.

“
Sorry, Captain. Is this piece of wire important?” She sounded
calm and actually smiled. The Captain was incredulous. He spoke
angrily.

“
What are you doing, Ma’am? This man has a gun on us and you
go and pull the main ignition cable out. It’ll take me an hour to
put that back in, and that’s if you haven’t damaged the
terminals.”

Dee ignored him and walked straight towards Hickstead,
extending her hand.

“
Lord Hickstead, we haven’t met. I’m Mrs Josh Hammond. My, you
are a handsome man.” She flirted outrageously.

Hickstead, in no mood for this, pointed the gun at her
head.

“
Not another step, Mrs Hammond. The last time you got close to
two of my confederates they needed hospital treatment. I want you
to keep your distance.”

Hickstead actually seemed more afraid of her than she seemed
of him, even though he was the one holding the gun. He had
recognised that Dee was the main danger to his plan, and he was
going to neutralise her. I hoped she had a plan, because I had no
idea what I should do, and was more than a little
worried.

“
OK, Sean, stand up and seat yourself against the deckhouse
wall.” Hickstead was positioning us where he could cover us all
easily. He kept the gun on Dee as he gave further
orders.

“
Now you, Captain. Sit on your hands until I get a chance to
tie you up. Josh, you do the same.” We obeyed, because it seemed
sensible to do so. “That’s it, sit on your hands. This is just like
Northern Ireland in the 1970s, except I wasn’t allowed to kill
them, even though they were killers themselves.”

He removed his leather belt.

“
Now, dear lady, turn around, please. I am going to tie your
hands.”

Dee giggled.

“
Oh, Hicky, I’m not that sort of girl, and I’m married
now.”

She held out her left hand to show off her engagement and
wedding rings. Old habits die hard, and out of politeness Hickstead
looked, as Dee knew he would.

“
Shit!” Hickstead shouted, berating himself for falling for
the oldest trick in the book.