The Dead Lie Down (Adam Lennox Thrillers: Book One) (22 page)

There was a noise from the front door. Adam still on high alert darted to the
doorway to meet any new threat, and nearly crashed into Bel as she entered the
dining room. She took one look at him and frowned.

"What's the matter, Lennox?"

Adam relaxed. "We've had a break-in, Trent. No damage."

Bel glanced around. "Anything missing?"

"No."

She put her mobile on the table. "Did you see anyone?"

"No."

She looked at Adam. "Are you going to phone the police?"

"No point. No damage, nothing missing, waste of time."

"You're lying. It was them wasn't it? After their precious paperwork, whatever
it is."

"Probably."

"Your very uncommunicative."

"Thinking."

"Thinking what?"

He looked out the window. The Vectra had gone. He turned around.

"I think I have an idea what this paperwork might be, in essence at least."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later. I need to test some theories first."

His expression didn't brook argument. Bel frowned.

"You don't trust me, Lennox. If you don't trust me just tell me."

Adam smiled. "That frown becomes you, Trent. It's not a question of trust. If
anyone were to ask you questions I would prefer you to be able to honestly say
that you don't know. The more convincing it is the fewer finger nails they're
likely to pull out."

Bel grimaced but remained unconvinced. "I'll be downstairs."

Adam spent several more minutes checking that everything was in place and made
to follow her when a mobile phone rang once.

Adam stopped. Incoming text. He checked his own but nothing showed on the
display. He looked around and spotted Bel's phone on the table. He would never
understand afterwards what made him read the text, but what he read disturbed
him greatly and confused him not a little. He erased it and then reached for his
own phone and dialled.

DCI Ford came on the line with his usual bad grace.

"Ford. What do you want?"

"A favour."

"Ho. A favour. This aught to be good."

"I need a background check on Fran and Bel."

There was a pause of inward digestion before Ford replied. "I don't understand.
Surely you know all the background or at least you don't need me in order to
find it."

"That's the problem. I'm too close. Bel's just received a text message. 'You
can't escape responsibility. Fran's gone, you're next'."

"What does that mean?"

Adam frowned. "I think it means that Fran's death is linked to Bel and I don't
understand why. I need you to check the records for anything that ties Fran and
Bel to someone that may have a grudge. It's a wild shot but I need to try
everything."

"It could just be a crank," suggested Ford.

"It could, but I can't afford to take the chance."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks." Adam rang off just in time to hear the house phone ring.

"Adam, Gerry. I've got Stan Hollis for you." Gerry wasted no time in connecting
the call, evidenced by the bellowing voice that caused Adam to swiftly move the
phone away from his ear.

"Lennox, what are you trying to do? Are you trying to ruin me or what?"

Adam risked bringing the phone closer.

"What's the problem, Stan?"

"That bloody elephant. It's all over the place. It's making me a laughing
stock."

Adam had visions of an elephant mocking, and shook his head.

"I don't understand, Stan."

"I've just been told that someone was videoing that catastrophe that you call a
photo shoot, and now the video clip is the most watched clip on the Internet.
I'm a laughing stock."

Adam had to sit down. "Stan, you don't understand. If what you say is true then this
is the best publicity you could ever want, and it's free."

"What do you mean?" asked Stan suspiciously.

Adam explained in words of one syllable for the internet-challenged.

"All you have to do is leak to the press that the photo-shoot was about your
product and soon your product name will be on every media site in the country
and possibly across the globe."

Stan remained unconvinced. "What, just like that?"

"You have no idea how fast news travels on the Internet. Talk to your sales
people."

"I'll try, but I still consider it damage limitation." He hung up.

Adam re-dialled the office, and got Gerry.

"Gerry, you're a coward."

Gerry's grin was palpable across the phone line. "I can take that."

"Gerry. I need you to do two things," continued Adam. "Get me as much background
on Brad Wilding as you can. Use whatever you can Stateside. I want to know where
he came from."

"And?"

"I'm sure he has a second address in London that's not listed anywhere. I need
you to find out what it is."

"You don't ask much, do you?" quipped Gerry.

"Stick around and you'll find out," returned Adam, and hung up the
phone.

Chapter 30

Reilly, had he but known it, would have shared common views with DCI Ford on the
perils of waiting in a car for long periods. The battered and barely
recognisable Vauxhall Vectra stood in one of the anonymous lay-bys that line the
A31 south of Aldershot. On the edge of the Downs it gave wide views down towards
Portsmouth during daylight but as now in the pitch dark the land lay like a
jewelled carpet before him, visible through the windscreen, but filtered by the
accumulated grime of many miles without a wash.

He watched the approaching traffic in his rear-view mirror, a procession of
headlights stabbing the darkness behind him and sweeping past him to disappear
as dots of red. The dull roar of constant traffic had subsided to a rhythmic
staccato of Doppler shift and the pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray had
long since spilled over onto the floor. If he was worried about the risk of fire,
he didn't show it but his regular time check exposed a concern of some kind.

O'Rourke was late, and when O'Rourke was late it wasn't good news. He resigned
himself to another cigarette but before he could reach for his lighter a pair of
headlights swung across his rear vision and into the lay-by behind him. The
crushed cigarette was consigned to the floor. Out of habit he checked the gun in
his pocket and reached for the door handle.

The figure that emerged from the car behind him was unmistakably O'Rourke, the
tall upright stature and swept -back grey hair but what caught Reilly's
attention was that he came from the passenger seat and even in the dark he
recognised the figure of the driver. O'Rourke walked straight past him as if he
wasn't there and stood gazing out over the speckled landscape. Reilly recognised
the signs and joined him. They didn't look at each other but to all intents and
purposes were admiring the scene before them. This would be misleading.

"What do I pay you for Sean?" demanded O'Rourke, the tone low and controlled,
but Reilly had heard it before and distrusted it. It was unclear whether the
question was rhetorical or not but Reilly gambled on the simple response.

"Satisfaction," he replied.

He sensed a smile from O'Rourke, but it didn't check his rising insecurity. He
turned as something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. The driver had
stepped out onto the roadway. Reilly turned back.

"I'm not satisfied Sean," revealed O'Rourke and continued, his voice slowly
rising in force. "You had Lennox. He was at your mercy. You are the best and you
weren't good enough. I needed the information that I know he has, and you
couldn't get it for me."

Reilly didn't respond, and O'Rourke's voice dropped back to over-controlled.

"How are Brenda and your two girls? Do I have to remind you that your family
hasn't had a happy time. Sean, we still know where they are. You don't want them
to suffer any more."

Reilly's gun hand twitched in his pocket and the safety catch rocked on and off
several times, but he didn't comment.

"What happened with Lennox?" demanded O'Rourke tersely.

Reilly tried not to sound defensive, but shifted from foot to foot without
realising. "He had help, professional help. There's something not right. They
managed to overpower my man." He considered mentioning O'Rourke's failure in
achieving anything by breaking into the flat but on the balance of things the
timing didn't seem quite right. There was a silence that went on too long for
his liking before O'Rourke saw fit to break it. He took out a cigarette and lit
it first.

"I'm rolling up the operation. Interpol raided the Prague warehouse last night
but they can't trace us from there. I can't afford them to get any closer so I'm
shutting down the route and cutting out the links."

"What about Anna?"

O'Rourke turned to him. "I'll deal with Anna when the time comes. And
Lennox..."

"Lennox won't be an issue, I can deal with him," replied Reilly.

O'Rourke shook his head and stepped away slightly. "I can't trust you any more
Sean...."

Reilly's hand slipped off the safety and he measured the distance he would have
to cover to put O'Rourke between him and the driver.

"So I'll deal with Lennox myself," continued O'Rourke. "With Anna's help I'll
get him off his own patch. He hasn't tied anything into me yet."

"Greg's gone to ground but he's still a liability," said Reilly, changing the
subject.

"Find him," said O'Rourke. "Deal with him so that he's no longer a threat. We
need to tie up all the loose ends very tight."

"And the girl?"

"The bitch Trent? What about her?"

Reilly licked his lips in a way that O'Rourke found distasteful. "I want the
girl."

O'Rourke made a face, which was invisible in the dark. "Take her then, but
remember that until Lennox is dealt with she is still our insurance policy, so
reign in your nasty little desires until then, and when you're finished with her
don't leave any remains of her that can be traced back to either of us."

He turned and made his way back to the car but stopped and turned before he got
in. "And Sean, don't make another mistake or you may find it being your
last."

Without waiting for a reply the car took off leaving Reilly pensively taking out
another cigarette, having carefully released the safety on his gun.

Chapter 31

Take a walk in the park they said, relax they said. Pass the Valium Adam
said.

So here they were in St James' Park, on a Thursday for goodness sake.

"Hey Lennox," interrupted Bel, "I'm here too. You have all the time you're alone
to think private thoughts. In the mean-time count me in on the world."

Adam turned and looked at her. "You know Trent, when you're angry, your nostrils
flare."

"You really know how to compliment a gal, you know that."

"It's one of the things my mother taught me," confessed Adam.

Bel grimaced, "Well my mother taught me how to hit where it hurts so be
careful."

The park was relatively busy, spring thinking about giving way to summer
occasionally. There were young couples on their own, young couples with prams,
young couples with buggies that rivalled NASA for ingenuity and folded up so
small you could get them in your hip pocket. There were kids who couldn't read,
playing football, using the 'No Ball Games' notices as goalposts, uni-cyclists
who seemed to be deliberately flaunting the 'No Bicycles' signs, and couples who
wouldn't see sixty again with their perpetual 'it wasn't like this in my day'
expressions, pretending the rest didn't exist.

"You know Trent. You really have a way of putting people at their ease," mused
Adam. "I imagine you as a counsellor for the Citizens Advice Bureau when the
suicide rates are getting below average."

Bel's eyes narrowed as she thought of a suitable retort, but was interrupted by
a stone in her shoe. She stopped and balanced on one leg to take her shoe
off.

"A gentleman would stop and give a lady his arm to help her with a stone in her
shoe."

Adam stopped and turned round, surprised. "I tell you what. If we come across a
gentleman and a lady then we'll ask them shall we?"
Bel caught up. "Are you
always going to be this rude?"
Adam stopped and looked at her. "Rude is
debatable. As for the future, who knows what it is going to hold. My horoscope
this morning told me that I was going to take a trip over water so I am
deliberately avoiding the lakes in the park to prove it wrong." He turned away.
"If I appear rude it is because I am trying to think of the next step to take in
order to secure our future free of homicidal maniacs."

The path they were following now took a downward slope, curving around an
extensive group of rhododendron bushes. As they walked, a pair of shadows
appeared one on either side of them. Adam and Bel instinctively slowed down to
let them pass but they became aware that the shadows were here to stay.

Adam took Bel's arm and they walked on, ignoring the extra presence and
pretending that nothing had changed.

Adam broke the silence. "Miss Trent, I get the impression that others are keen
to walk with us."

Bel picked up on the light-hearted tone. "Perhaps it's one of these accompanied
tours with your own private expert, Mr Lennox. You know, to give us detailed
knowledge of the flora and fauna that we trip over on our visit. Did you fill in
a form as we came in, asking for a tour?"

"No. No I didn't. Still perhaps out of the goodness of their hearts they are
willing to give us the benefit of their knowledge anyway, lest we fall into a
decline and waste away for lack of inspiring company and uplifting
conversation." He glanced briefly right and left to assess their guard of
honour. Two males, late twenties early thirties, no sense of humour, short hair,
regulation track suits (very Jimmy Saville). Tall and skinny, short and fat.
They could be a tribute act for Laurel and Hardy. They were either an advert for
Nike or government employees. Adam's money was on the latter, he was never one
to bet on anything less than an outright certainty.