One Last Lesson (35 page)

If Cope was happy with the great outdoors, this place would suit him down to the ground but if
he felt cornered and couldn’t get away, his plan might be to pick them off one by one when tiredness set in and they became separated. That said, the two Portuguese coppers looked as though they both were born out here as they stepped over the rocks and fallen tree trunks with consummate ease and in contrast to their handling of the patrol car, the gap between them and the ill-shod and ill-prepared Sussex detectives began to widen.

Soon, the
y began to climb and up they went towards a rocky escarpment dotted with tall eucalyptus trees and thick, course bushes that scratched the skin. Hobbs was a city boy and rarely ventured outdoors but Henderson was enjoying himself, reminding him of his youth on the moors above Strontian in Scotland, beating grouse with a crowd of lads, walking with a gamekeeper while he shot deer to cull their numbers or leading bird fanciers up the side of a hill to see a pair of nesting eagles.

They were in effect climbing up
a rocky hill or small mountain on a well-worn path that could have been made by goats or hikers but after a time, he couldn’t tell how high up they were as the land below was covered in a green carpet of forest and the trees might have been fifty or five feet tall. It was most unlike the pine forests that dotted large tracts of Sutherland, Argyle and around Loch Lomond in Scotland which consisted of fast-growing spruce and Douglas Firs, while the trees around here were native broad-leafed varieties of oak and ash and the ubiquitous eucalyptus, more pleasing on the eye than the alien evergreens of northern Scotland.

Henderson was not particularly unfit or overweight as he
often went running along Brighton seafront but his involvement in a major investigation such as this led to unpredictable working hours and meals that were missed and even when they weren’t, they were usually brought in from a take-away. In addition, he hadn’t done any exercise since the dog attack and this also had the effect of diminishing his energy levels as he was finding it hard to keep up the relentless pace of the Portuguese cops, and even city-boy Hobbs who was ahead of him now.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard what
he thought was gunfire, one shot then shortly afterwards, another. He waited a few minutes but didn’t hear anything more and while it might have been hunters using rifles to shoot wild boar, the sound was short and sharp and more redolent of revolver fire and if so, indicating some altercation between the Portuguese officers and Cope. He hoped it was the police officers shooting Cope but knowing what that man was capable of and assuming there might have been a weapon in his sports bag, he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the other way round.

He slowed down as he ascended a steep section and round
ing the corner at the top, where he nearly tripped over the prostrate figure of Gerry Hobbs, lying across the path.

‘I stood on a loose rock,’ he s
aid wincing in pain, ‘twisted me bloody ankle, I have. It feels broken but I never heard it snap.’

‘Is the pain sharp and piercing or dull and thudding?’

‘The second one.’

His face was red and sweating and it was clear he was in considerable pain.

‘It’s probably a sprain then. Did you hurt anything else?’

‘
I fell on a well-protected area, my arse, so no.’

‘I’ll
take a look at your ankle but I’m not touching your arse.’

Slowly,
Henderson dragged him to the side of the path and propped him up against a rock. He pulled back his sock and felt around his ankle. ‘I’m no expert but I don’t think its broken although it’s certainly a very bad strain. I don’t think you should walk on it without assistance.’

‘I
have to agree with you there doctor, it’s bloody agony.’

He looked around for a branch or
a big stick that he could use for support but even though there were trees all around them, on the mountain opposite and on the valley floor, there was nothing up here.

‘Before I fell,
I was trying to move a bit quicker because I thought I heard gunfire and thought the Portuguese cops might need help.’

‘Me too.’

‘Do you think it was Cope?’

He nodded. ‘It didn’t sound like hunters.’

‘I agree, we need to be careful.’

‘
Forget the ‘we’ mate, you’re not going anywhere with that ankle. I’m going to leave you here and try and catch up with the Portuguese coppers and providing everybody’s not dead, we’ll catch Cope and come back for you. Ok?’

‘
Fine,’ he said through a thin smile, ‘you go and nail that bastard, I’ll sit here and top up my tan.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yep, go.’

‘
Take the water.’

‘Nah, don’t
be daft.’

‘Take it. I can’t be bothered lugging it around any longer.’

‘Ok then.’

‘You’re not in the sun bu
t do try and move if it shifts onto your face, you don’t want sunburn to add to your injuries.’

‘Right mum, I’ll do
my best now bugger off and catch that bastard, but boss, be careful he’s one dangerous animal.’

‘
I’ve had enough of dealing with dangerous animals to last me a lifetime but I’ll bear that in mind. See you, mate.’

He set off at a jogging pace, more determined than ever
to bring this cross-country trek to a close. On any other day, he would have enjoyed a hike in this area as the scenery was stunning and the hills were smooth-sided and easy to ascent and emitted a variety of smells which were rich and pungent and conjured up long-forgotten memories of numerous places he’d visited.

Maybe
Cope wasn’t aware but he was pushing himself into a corner because if there wasn’t another way off this mountain, he would need to come down the same way he went up. In any case, how could he know any different unless he had been here before to dispose of other victims? Despite the heat, that unpleasant thought sent a chill through his bones.

He jogged for perhaps ten minutes but still there was no sign of
anyone. Up ahead, the path narrowed as it passed between two tall rocks and he slowed to a walking pace, just in case there was a sheer drop on the other side. Easing himself between the rocks, he was surprised to see it open onto a small, flat clearing and even more surprised to find that Cope was standing there, pointing a gun at his head.

‘Well, look who it is? What the fuck are you doing here, Henderson?’

‘Its Detective Inspector Henderson to you, Cope.’

‘Don’t come fucking high and mighty with me copper, I’m the one with the gun. Where’s your partner?’

They were standing in a small clearing, a
dust covered plateau at the side of the mountain and facing another, even larger mountain across a deep canyon. Lying against a rock were the two Portuguese cops, both with gunshot wounds and while one was moving and clearly alive, the other wasn’t. Cope was bigger than the photographs suggested, his big frame blocking the sunlight as he moved closer.

‘Back there,’
Henderson said jerking a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Couldn’t handle the pace you were setting and stopped for a breather. He’ll be here in a minute.’

‘Get over there,’ he
said, jerking the gun to indicate a position about ten feet away from him, ‘we’ll sit and wait.’

‘So,’ he said lighting a cigarette, his eyes darting between Henderson and the gap between the rocks, ‘what are you doing in Portugal with these two pricks?’

‘You’ve got a short memory, Cope. Do the bodies of a couple of university students not jog it just a little?’

His face contorted
in rage. ‘Students? Don’t talk to me about students. They’re nothing but fucking slags!’ he shouted. ‘I’d see ‘em when I was driving my bus, blokes with their hands up their skirts, girls sucking their cocks, shagging in the back seat, thinking I couldn’t see ‘em, but I could. They’re slags, the lot of them but from me,’ he said pointing proudly at his chest, ‘they’re gettin’ one last lesson they won’t get at any fucking university.’

This was it? He hates students, so he kills them. It was a job for life,
he thought miserably, or death in his case.

He was stomping up and down the small clearing, the gun at his side, like
a drunken Wild West gunslinger in a bar of frightened customers. He was agitated about something, but what? The girl he left in the boot of his car or the presence of cops spoiling his little day of fun?

‘Have you heard, we arrested
your mate, David Samuels?’

For a moment he was
convinced he had said the wrong thing as Cope swung round in an instant and poked the gun in his face, making him flinch.

‘What the fuck d’you do that for? I ought to blow your brains out now.’

‘He was helping you.’

‘He didn’t help me. Nobody did.
I don’t need anybody’s help, see?’

‘Did you think all this up by yourself? I don’t think so.’

‘Why?’ he said, bending down and grabbing him by the throat. ‘You think I’m fucking stupid don’t you?’

‘No, I didn’t say that.’

‘What then?’

‘What you did was smart, complicated.
We were sure there were at least a couple of people involved.’

He eased his hand away and stood up.
‘Nah, it’s just me.’ He couldn’t help it but the trace of a smile creased his lips. He was proud of his achievements.

‘What was Samuels
’s involvement?’

‘Dave? Nothing much. He hates Green
because the greedy bastard nicked his money and Dave always gets his own back on anybody that takes the piss. Neat, don’t you think?’ An evil grin spread across his face. ‘I hate fucking students and Dave hates Dominic Green. He says we can kill two birds with one stone.’ He started to laugh. ‘Two birds with one stone, get it?’

‘Ha bloody, ha, you’re such a comedian.’

‘Yeah but what’s even funnier, smartarse detective,’ he sneered, ‘it ain’t two, is it?’

‘What do you mean?’ He said,
his face betraying the alarm he felt.

‘There’s...oh, let me think:
four or maybe six back home and two or three over here? I can’t remember, lost count, ye see but that’s for you the detective to find out. Oh sorry, I forgot,’ that grin again, ‘my gun is pointing right at your fucking head and I’m gonna kill you, so you can’t.’

Suddenly, there was a strange noise and Cope
, instantly alert pointed the gun at the space between the rocks. He hoped to God it wasn’t Hobbs as he would be worse than useless in his debilitated condition. The air suddenly filled with sound, echoing and reverberating off the steep, wooded canyon and the mountain across from the clearing and seconds later, a Portuguese police helicopter rose up into the air and hovered to examine them from about fifty feet away.

Cope spun round and
opened fire on the helicopter. In an instant, the pilot tipped the machine on its side to protect the vulnerable Perspex cabin. Bullets pinged off the landing tracks as it buzzed away.

Seizing his chance when the big man was distracted, Henderson leapt forward and rugby tackled Cope. It was like crashing into a
locked barn door as he was easily five or six stone heavier but he knew from his days in the school rugby team that size didn’t matter as long as accuracy and timing were right. Unfortunately, his lunge wasn’t quite right and instead of knocking him to the ground, they both tumbled onto the floor, the gun scuttling off into the dust.

Henderson recovered first and bashed his ugly mug with
the hardest punch he could manage but it was like hitting brick and Cope hardly flinched. He pushed Henderson away, stood up and responded with a volley of punches to Henderson’s chest and stomach, which felt like being hit by sledgehammers.

Henderson scrambled
backwards, fighting for breath but like an angry bull, Cope immediately charged him and pinned him against a rock. Big fists punched at his face as he fell to the ground and he knew if he didn’t do something quickly, he would die there. His hands felt around for something, anything. He grabbed a handful of dust and threw it in Cope’s face. In an instant the blows stopped as Cope coughed and wheezed like an old man with emphysema.

Henderson
forced himself to stand up. His nose and mouth were streaming with blood but he staggered across the plateau, scouring the ground for the gun.

‘Looking for this
copper?’

He turned. With one
hand Cope was wiping his face of brown dust and grime and with the other, pointing the gun. He walked towards him. ‘I was going to beat you to death copper ‘cause that’s what I like to do but you’re a sneaky bastard and I’m just going to have to do it the easy way.’ He lifted the gun and pointed it between his eyes. His finger curled slowly around the trigger.

Bang!