Lawless (30 page)

Back in the main room, he stood facing Mikel. ‘So, what now?’ he asked. ‘What do you have in mind now that I’ve messed up your grand plan?’

The question troubled her. For the first time since she had confronted him in the hallway after he had entered the flat, she appeared uncertain. The initiative had slipped from her. She remained silent. Thinking. Her eyes moved round the room.

McBride felt her hesitance. It did not give him the reassurance he might have imagined, or desired. With her carefully prepared scenario disrupted, Mikel would be unpredictable.

He cursed himself for not having phoned Superintendent Hackett before going in such haste to Monifieth.

The same thought appeared to occur at exactly the same moment in the mind of the woman standing opposite.

‘I guess you neglected to call for reinforcements, Campbell,’ she said. ‘They would have been here long before now if you had. Tut-tut. Not such a clever boy, after all.’ She shook her head in mock disgust and started to swing the Glock slowly backwards and forward.

McBride moved away from her and sat down on the sofa again.

She watched him closely but did not say anything. The tension between them started to reach deafening proportions.

McBride sat back. Put his hands behind his neck and rested his head in them. He had arrived at a strategy – a poor one but the only one he could think of.

‘Before you shoot, there’s something you need to know,’ he said. ‘Your father will be extremely disappointed with how you’ve turned out. Ashamed, even.’

The remark hit the target, slap in the middle.

Her eyes blazed and the nostrils he had once found so appealing widened. Her breasts lifted then dropped as she started to breath deeper. She took the three paces across the room she needed to be standing next to him at the side of the sofa. She did not speak but clenched her left fist, drew back her arm then punched him in the mouth with as much force as she could muster.

Blood sprang from McBride’s lower lip. He reached cautiously into his pocket, removed a handkerchief and dabbed gently on the wound. ‘You’re losing it, Anneke,’ he said. ‘Where’s all the control now?’

She did not reply but moved closer and stretched out her arm until the gun in her right hand was level with McBride’s head. Then she eased a further two inches forward until the barrel was pressing into his temple. It was the coldest feeling he’d ever experienced. Worse than the chill that was filling his stomach.

The colour drained from Mikel’s cheeks. ‘My father loved me,’ she said. ‘He adored me. And my mother.’ Her eyes flashed and what looked like tears began to well in them.

‘He was an honourable, loving man – no doubt about that,’ McBride said. ‘He proved it by what he did to protect you and your mother from what he thought was the shame he’d brought on the family. Wasn’t a lot of point though, was there? All he got for his trouble was a daughter who turned out to be a serial killer. That would make him real proud, wouldn’t it?’

His words instantly produced the effect he sought. Mikel’s face contorted. Her eyes swung from side to side then cast around the room. She stepped backwards, pulling the barrel of the Glock away from the side of McBride’s head and allowing the pistol to drop almost level with her side. She was confused, agitated – torn between the love she felt for her father, her hatred of McBride and the self-loathing that was beginning to overtake her.

He pushed on, aware of the risk but accepting it. ‘So what are you going to do now?’ he asked. ‘Problem you’ve got, as I see it, is how you wrap this up. Gunfire might alert the neighbours. You can always strangle Petra first, of course, then march me off for a firing squad somewhere quiet. ’Cept I might just object when you started the throttling bit. Or were you going to do that with one hand and hold the gun on me with the other? Even for a body combat instructor that might all be a bit tricky.’ McBride rested his head on the sofa back. Waited for her to answer. His eyes never left her face.

She looked at him. Looked away. Looked back. Said nothing.

After several seconds McBride spoke again. ‘There is another way, of course. Stop all this. Bring it to an end and make your father really proud. Give me the gun and we’ll work things through together. Get help. We’ll find a hospital where you’ll be looked after.’

He rose slowly from the sofa and moved hesitantly in her direction. ‘Your father had honour,’ he said. ‘You can get it too.’ He held out a hand for the pistol. ‘Let me have it.’

Mikel attempted speech once more. Changed her mind. Then made a decision.

She lifted the Glock, pointed it with slow deliberation, took aim and gently squeezed on the trigger. The bullet entered her right temple, blew her brain apart and exited to the left.

Hackett and the scene of crime teams arrived thirty minutes later. By that time the best-looking detective inspector who’d ever been on his force was free of her shackles and into another pair of knickers. In other circumstances, McBride would have been happy to have delayed both processes by a good hour – another time.

Novak had fifty questions she wanted to ask but not then either.

He had kept her in the bedroom and they hadn’t said much. He had held her in his arms and she’d wept.

Later, she told McBride she needed to leave for a debriefing by Hackett and they both managed to laugh.

McBride drove the two miles back to his apartment slower than he’d driven in his life. He parked the Mondeo and started to walk along the beach. A white moon hung low overhead and the only sound was water breaking softly on to sand at his feet. He headed towards the lifeboat shed where he knew there was a seat.

He would occupy it and think of how he would describe the last few weeks of his life.

Then, when daybreak rose out over the river, he would call London and tell a news desk he had a story to write.

Also by Alexander McGregor

The Law Killers

First published 2006
by Black & White Publishing Ltd
29 Ocean Drive, Edinburgh EH6 6JL
www.blackandwhitepublishing.com
This electronic edition published in 2014

ISBN: 978 1 84502 772 8 in EPub format
ISBN: 978 1 84502 745 2 in paperback format

Copyright © Alexander McGregor 2006, 2014

The right of Alexander McGregor to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Ebook compilation by RefineCatch Ltd, Bungay