The Half Truth (17 page)

He hadn’t meant to creep up and frighten her like that, but seeing the front door wide open was unusual enough, given the recent events, to send John’s senses straight to red alert. Despite his intentions to stay out of sight, these were thrown to one side without a second thought.

‘You okay?’ he glanced around the kitchen, his hand twitched at his hand gun lodged in his shoulder holster.

‘Yes. Everything’s fine,’ she said, her eyes shifted to his hand.

‘Sure?’

‘Positive.’

John relaxed and let his jacket fall from his grasp. Yet, years of experience and habit didn’t stop him carrying out a quick check of the house before closing the front door. As he did so, he signalled across the road to Martin that everything was okay and then returned to the kitchen. Tina was crouched down on the floor with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up broken glass. He clocked the missing pane in the back door.

‘You’ve had a visitor?’

‘Mmm. They let themselves in.’

Tina stood up and, pressing the pedal on the bin with her foot, slid the glass off the dustpan. The lid closed with a clap that reverberated around the kitchen.

‘Is anything missing?’

‘Not as far as I can tell.’

John watched her replace the dustpan and brush in the under-sink cupboard. She turned and faced him. The strain of today was evident. Her eyes looked heavy and her whole body language looked weary and defeated. He wanted to go to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her he was sorry. He wanted her to say it was okay and she understood.

‘Where’s Dimitri?’ he asked, suddenly realising the little lad wasn’t in the house.

‘At my parents,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here anyway? I thought I made it clear that I wanted some time alone.’

‘All the time Pavel is still roaming around, not to mention Sasha and the Russians, I still need to keep you safe.’

‘Well, you’ve done your duty. I’m all safe and there’s no burglar.’

‘You need to get the back door secured for the night. I don’t suppose you’ve got any hardboard and hand tools?’

‘No, but I’m sure Mr Cooper has in his shed. I’ll go and look.’

‘No, I’ll go and look, you wait here.’

‘Ever the hero.’

John wasn’t sure how to take that last comment, but whether she was being sarcastic or not, she was letting him help her and that had to be a good sign, right? He rummaged around in Mr Cooper’s shed, finally locating an old tin toolbox in the corner.

He returned with the necessary tools and a piece of hardboard. ‘I’ll tack it in place for now, from the inside and outside, to keep the door secure for the night. I can put a pane of glass in it for you tomorrow.’

She didn’t contradict him and John carried out the impromptu DIY tasks in silence as Tina made them both a coffee.

It didn’t take John too long and when he was confident the hardboard was secure, he drank the coffee she had made.

‘So, are you the male version of the honey-trap? That’s what they call it, isn’t it?’ said Tina as he sipped his coffee. ‘You were tasked with getting into bed with me, in the hope I’d reveal secrets and information across the pillow.’

‘No,’ said John exasperation creeping in. It seemed to be the day for dealing with stressful women. ‘It wasn’t that at all.’

‘What the hell was it, then?’ Her eyes blazed with anger and hurt, but there was hope there too. John had seen it before in victims he had interviewed. They were in a nightmare that they didn’t want to be in and there was a slither of hope that he could pull them out of it, wake them from their terror.

He sat down at the table, his voice controlled. Soft. Reassuring. Honest. ‘I was never meant to get involved with you. I promise. In fact, my boss has threatened to take me off the case because he thought I was too involved and my feelings for you were impairing my judgement.’

‘Feelings?’ The hope burned a fraction brighter.

‘Yes. I knew I was getting more involved with you than I ever intended but I also knew that I couldn’t stop it. Believe me, Tina, I’ve struggled and wrestled with this over and over again.’ He waited while she took in his words.

‘There’s another but, I can tell.’

God, she was perceptive. ‘Bringing Neil’s killer to justice comes before anything else. I need to do this.’

A small tear wound its way from the corner of her eye. ‘Sasha is not a killer.’

‘I believe that. In fact, I know that, but he is our only lead to Pavel and to the money. Ultimately, it’s the way to your safety.’

‘Are you telling me the truth?’ More tears followed the first.

‘Yes. I promise,’ said John. ‘About everything.’

‘I can’t deal with the “us” bit at the moment,’ said Tina, she palmed away dampness on her face. ‘I’m totally drained, I literally can’t think straight.’

‘What’s his next move, Tina? What’s Sasha going to do now?’ asked John.

Tina looked at John and then past his shoulder. She sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes widened.

‘Sasha.’ Her voice was filled with fear.

John swung round, his hand automatically pulling the Glock 26 from inside his jacket. A gun barrel greeted him, shaking ever so slightly in Sasha’s hand.
Fuck.

‘Hello, John,’ said Sasha. He smiled at the detective, but a band of sweat across his forehead, belied his casual tone. ‘Now, let’s not all get jumpy and start pointing guns at each other, they have a tendency to go off unexpectedly.’

‘I agree,’ said John, not wavering. ‘We seem to have got ourselves in a bit of a stalemate position.’

‘Put the gun down,’ said Sasha. He swallowed hard and used his left hand to steady the gun in his right.

‘I can’t do that,’ said John. ‘Goes against company policy.’

‘Do not fuck with me,’ said Sasha.

‘Listen to me.’ John held his arm still, applying gentle pressure with his finger over the trigger. ‘You’re no killer. I know you. However, I, on the other hand, am. I’ve been trained to kill.’

‘Stop, both of you.’ It was Tina. She placed herself between the two guns, looking from one man to the other.

‘Tina, move away,’ said John, his eyes never leaving Sasha.

‘You will not shoot now,’ said Sasha, his tongue moistened his dry lips. ‘You might hit Tina.’

‘Remember, Sasha, I’m a trained marksman. I can take you out with one shot to the head any time I like. Tina is not in my way.’ This wasn’t strictly true and it certainly wasn’t in his training manual. ‘Your call.’

The sweat patch had now become a river, flowing freely down Sasha’s face. He rubbed his mouth and nose over the shoulder of his shirt.

‘Tina, take the gun from John.’

‘Wait. Let’s talk about this,’ said John. ‘I know you’re not a killer. I’m not interested in framing you up or anything like that. I just want to know where Pavel is. Where the money is. We can deal.’

‘I cannot deal,’ said Sasha, shifting his weight from one foot to another. ‘I have to go back.’

‘Tell me where the money is. Where your brother is. I can help you and your family. Your son needs treatment. It can be sorted.’ John willed Sasha to take the bait. He couldn’t promise him everything, but he was throwing as much at him as he possibly could. ‘Work with us and we can help you. We can offer you protection.’

‘No. It is not that simple.’

‘Sasha needs immunity. He needs a new passport. He needs to be able to go back to Russia,’ said Tina. She turned to Sasha. ‘Trust me, I can help you. Give John what he wants. I’ll find the money you need.’

‘Tina,’ said Sasha, the quake in his voice audible. ‘Take the gun from him.’

Tina looked at Sasha for a moment, he nodded encouragement and slowly she turned to face John. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Then she stepped towards the Glock, its muzzle pointing directly at her head.

‘Move out the way, Tina,’ said John, his voice calm but firm. She shook her head, the tears trickled down each side of her face.

He had no choice.

John let the pistol swing round on his finger like a pendulum, coming to rest upside down pointing towards him. Tina stretched out her hand, which was shaking with nerves and adrenalin.

‘Nice and easy, does it,’ said John. ‘Just take the gun by the grip. Don’t touch the trigger, it doesn’t have a safety lock. That’s it. Keep it pointing to the ground. Don’t be frightened. If you don’t touch the trigger, you can’t fire it.’

John watched her shaking hand take the Glock from him. She backed away and, with an outstretched arm, held it in Sasha’s direction.

John didn’t take his eyes from Sasha for a second. If he was going to disarm the Russian, he had to get the timing absolutely right. Even the slightest of unexpected movements could induce a flinch response from Sasha and in the hyped, adrenalin state he was clearly in, this could easily cause a trigger-finger reaction.

John needed to wait for what was known as a break state; a break in Sasha’s state of mind. He needed Sasha’s focus to be taken away from the trigger, to wait for an interruption in the flow of thought from brain to finger. He had been trained for this and on more than one occasion had put this into practice.

As the Russian stepped forward, still holding the gun in John’s general direction, he made to take the pistol from Tina. Neither Tina nor Sasha were looking at the gun, the baton handover was fumbled. Tina let go before Sasha had hold of it properly. The Glock clattered to the ground. Tina screamed and jumped back. John knew this was his chance, probably the only chance he would get. It wasn’t the ideal time

John leaped towards the Russian, grabbing his arm and pushing it as hard and fast as he could into the air. Sasha was stronger than John expected and once Sasha realised what was happening tried to twist away from John’s grasp.

John used his body weight to knock Sasha off balance and the two men bundled into the doorframe. John smashed Sasha’s hand against the wall, shattering the glass of a picture hanging behind them. Streams of blood flowed down Sasha’s hand from his knuckles. Again John thumbed the hand back against the glass, turning his head away from Sasha free hand, as the Russian’s fingers tried to gouge at John’s eyes.

John brought his knee up and hammered it into Sasha’s crotch and once more rammed his opponent’s hand against the wall.

Sasha let out a cry of pain, he hunched over, gasping for air but still kept his grip on the gun. John looked at the weapon as Sasha turned his wrist, attempting to point the muzzle at John. In one last attempt to overpower Sasha, John brought his left elbow up, catching Sasha under the chin. The pain inflicted was enough for Sasha to momentarily ease his grip on the gun. John yanked the pistol free.

A shot rang out, followed by a scream from Tina. Bits of plaster from the ceiling fell down onto John.

‘Stop it!’ shouted Tina.

Both men froze at the sight of Tina standing in the middle of the kitchen with the police-issue Glock in her hand. Her whole body was shaking as she stood holding the gun out in front of her, two hands clasped round the weapon; it wavered in the air as if fighting against an unseen magnetic force.

‘Give me the gun,’ said Sasha to Tina.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ said John, now turning Sasha’s own weapon on him.

Sasha let out a laugh. ‘Take another look at what you have in your hand.’

John should have realised as soon as he had taken it from Sasha. The weight was all wrong for a start, and now the texture, the finish, the whole look of it was off kilter. It was a replica. Not a bad replica – good enough to fool someone from just a few feet away, but once in possession, John should have spotted it immediately.

All the same, he checked the breach and magazine holder. Empty. Not even a blank. Sadly, not the same could be said of what Tina was holding.

John slowly lowered the imitation firearm to the floor, kicking it down the laminated hallway.

‘Tina, look at me,’ said John. ‘At me, Tina. Look at me.’

‘Ignore him, Tina,’ said Sasha. ‘Don’t betray me. Remember what I said.’

‘Betray you? After what you’ve done to me?’ She looked at John and then back to Sasha.

‘You know why it had to happen. I was protecting you.’

‘Protecting me? What you did was so cruel. One of the cruellest things a person could do to someone they supposedly loved. You never gave me a choice. And you know what? If you had asked me what I wanted to do, I would have taken my chances and not become a widow.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘Maybe you are, but you’ve come back and caused me so much pain, all over again.’

John watched and listened to them. He knew at that very moment, neither were aware of him. They were having a deeply private and emotional exchange, totally unaware of the world around them. It hurt him to see Tina in so much pain. He wished he could just take her in his arms, right there and then. Comfort her, protect her and love her. Show her that
he
wouldn’t let her down.

‘I know how much this has hurt you. I wish there was another way. I have come back to try and explain everything.’ Sasha ran his blooded hand through his dark hair.

‘No, Sasha, that’s not why you’re back. You’ve come back for your son. Explaining what you did is out of necessity, not choice. You came back for your son, Nikolay.’

‘I stayed away for you. I stayed away so you could have a new life, safe, without me.’ There were tears in Sasha’s eyes. ‘I dreamed so many times of a life with you and our child. Instead I had to build a new life to block out thoughts of what could not be mine. In that new life, I was given Rozalina and Nikolay. It was as close to my dreams of you as I could get.’

John’s eyes darted to Tina, her face a bed to a river of tears. This conversation was going off in totally the wrong direction. Getting involved with feelings and emotions meant things could get messy. Emotions caused people to be unpredictable. Unpredictable was no friend of his right now. He needed to get them back on track.

‘Look, this is no time for a Relate session and right now I need that gun, Tina. Then we can all sit down and talk this through.’ He took a couple of steps towards her, his hand held out.

‘Do not give it to him, he will arrest me,’ said Sasha.

John looked back at Sasha. ‘You can’t escape and the money you want, well, you won’t get that either if you run now. Stay, work with me, the police, we can help you. We’ll get you a safe house. We can protect you. Whatever you need, we have the power to make it happen. I’m not interested in you, I just want Pavel and the money.’

‘John’s right. You must let him help you. It’s the only way you can help Nikolay,’ said Tina, her voice choking. ‘Whatever I do now, isn’t for you, it’s for your son.’ She lowered the gun, her hands dropping to her sides.

Immediately John was there, taking the firearm from her hand. He spun round, pointing it in Sasha’s direction, half-expecting to see him already fleeing down the hallway. John really didn’t want to have to chase him or, worse, shoot him. He was relieved to see Sasha flop back against the wall, his eyes closed.

Tina brushed past John and went to comfort Sasha.

‘I’m sorry, Sasha. I’m sorry,’ she repeated as she held her hand to his grazed cheek, a result of his and John’s tussle. Sasha looked down at her, nodded and pulled her into his arms. John watched, as husband and wife clung onto each other, both crying. John turned away, driving down the unexpected bitter taste of jealousy that caught in the back of his throat. She still loved Sasha the man, not Sasha the memory.

John took out his phone, swiped at the screen for Martin’s number.

‘Yep?’ Martin answered on the first ring.

‘Looks like we’re taking a ride to the safe house.’