Truth or Dare (33 page)

‘J
esus Christ…’ Phil stared at the scene that greeted him, rooted to the spot, heart in his mouth.

Two dead men, both large and black; another wounded man, as small as the other two were large. Then there were a mutilated couple. Phil recognised them immediately as Moses Heap and Letisha Watson.

And there, standing right in the centre of the room, was the Lawgiver.

The Lawgiver turned, stared at him. Behind the mask, Phil knew that he was smiling.

‘Detective Inspector Phil Brennan,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ He raised the crossbow, pointed his last remaining bolt, the one intended for Moses and Letisha, at him.

‘The Lawgiver, I presume,’ said Phil. ‘Should I say, we meet at last, something like that?’

‘Say what you like,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘It’ll be one of the final things you ever say.’

Phil tried to focus, concentrate on the here and now. He had only been coming here as a favour to Sperring, checking out something for him and then back to the real investigation. But things hadn’t turned out quite the way he had expected them to. Sperring said he had a good copper’s instinct, thought Phil. I must tell him he’s absolutely right.

Assuming I manage to walk out of here.

‘So,’ said Phil, finding his voice, hoping his professional training would kick in when he started talking, ‘what brings you here?’

The Lawgiver pointed his crossbow at Letisha and Moses. Briefly; then back to Phil again. ‘I’m making house calls now. Dispensing justice to murderers along the way.’

‘Where’s Glen Looker? What have you done with him?’

‘Mr Looker is no more,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘He had to answer for his crimes.’

‘You killed him.’ Less a question, more a statement of fact.

The Lawgiver didn’t answer immediately. Like he couldn’t admit to what he had done. Phil found his restraint slightly puzzling. But he didn’t have to dwell on that now.

‘Look,’ said Phil, voice calm and steady, ‘we can resolve this. Amicably. It’s not too late, we can do it. Just… put the crossbow down.’

The Lawgiver laughed. ‘I think we’ve gone beyond that now, don’t you?’

Phil remembered Marina’s profile: they’ll catch him when he starts improvising. That’s when he’ll begin to unravel. Looking at the sight before him, seeing how much the Lawgiver was shaking while holding the crossbow, he believed that time had come now.

If he handled it the right away.

‘Has it?’ said Phil. ‘It’s over. Finished. Look where you are, look around you. All over.’

‘No it isn’t, no it isn’t…’ Voice becoming louder, more cracked.

Unstable, thought Phil. Definitely unstable. Have to be careful.

‘It’s over,’ he said again.

The Lawgiver said nothing. Just stood there, breathing heavily.

Phil continued. ‘I haven’t come here alone. Back-up is on its way.’ He edged closer to the Lawgiver, hoped he wouldn’t notice. ‘Any minute.’

‘Liar…’ said the Lawgiver, his voice rasping from more than just being behind the gas mask.

‘Any minute,’ said Phil. ‘What are you going to do then? How do you propose to get out then? To walk away?’

‘Liar,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘Wait and see.’

‘Oh, I will.’

‘One question, though,’ said Phil. ‘Serious question. Why me?’

‘What?’

‘Why me? What made you choose me instead of all the other police officers out there?’ Still edging forward towards the Lawgiver while he was talking.

The Lawgiver laughed. ‘Why not you?’

‘That it? Nothing better than that?’ Phil was still moving forward, still listening when he noticed something else. Could he smell gas?

‘Yes,’ said the Lawgiver. I saw you on TV. You’d just made some high-profile arrest, had the whole of Digbeth closed, helicopters in the sky, the lot. I wondered what kind of copper had done that, been in charge of that kind of operation. And then I saw you. Scruffy, no suit, leather jacket and check shirt. And I thought, He looks different. He might be a man I can do business with. Not like all the others.’

‘And am I?’ asked Phil. ‘Different to all the others?’

‘No,’ said the Lawgiver flatly. ‘You’re exactly the same as them. Exactly the same.’

‘You mean because I catch criminals and protect the public? Whether I wear a suit or not? I suppose I am.’

‘No,’ said the Lawgiver, ‘that’s not what I meant. I thought you might be different, able to think for yourself, see things differently. Realise that what I’m doing is not a criminal thing but merely a campaign to correct criminal acts. I thought we could work together, be on the same side.’

Phil moved forwards slightly. He noticed that the Lawgiver was also moving, but backwards. He also noticed that Moses, in pain and mutilated, was trying to get behind him.

‘We can never be on the same side,’ said Phil, ‘so long as you take it upon yourself to kill who you feel like.’

‘I’m not a criminal. I’m a… lawgiver.’

‘If that’s the case, then why don’t you put down the crossbow and we can talk about it?’

The Lawgiver looked down at his hands, as if he had forgotten he was holding the crossbow. Phil’s words reminded him. He raised it up, pointing it once more at Phil.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said.

Phil saw his finger tighten on the trigger. Felt his heart hammer in his chest. Knew this wasn’t one of the things he had expected, planned for, happening today.

He looked left to right, tried to work out where he could dive to avoid the bolt. Felt like a goalkeeper facing a penalty. Whichever way he dived would be the wrong one.

But he had reckoned without Moses.

The destroyed man put himself behind the Lawgiver, forcing his damaged arm round his neck, pulling as hard as he could, the pain giving him strength, pushing the crossbow down towards the floor with the other. Screaming in agony as he did so.

The Lawgiver fired. The bolt went harmlessly into the carpet.

The Lawgiver pulled hard against Moses’s grip, tried to wriggle free from Moses’s embrace, but he had him too tight. The Lawgiver tried to squirm around, find pressure points to hurt Moses with. It was no good. Moses was beyond pain now.

As they fought, Moses lost his balance and pulled the Lawgiver over onto the ground, never once letting go. Moses held the Lawgiver tightly round the throat, the other man had his hands at his neck, fighting for air through his mask.

Phil ran forward to help Moses, but he held up something in his hand. Phil stopped moving.

Letisha’s lighter. Moses brandished it like a weapon.

‘Go,’ roared Moses through his ruined mouth. ‘Just go…’

‘No, Moses,’ shouted Phil, I’m not leaving you…’

Moses moved his thumb to the wheel. ‘Go…’

The Lawgiver was still squirming in his grip, trying to kick against his captor, hit him. Moses ignored him, pulled tighter.

‘No, Moses,’ said Phil. ‘There’s another way…’

Moses shook his head. ‘Too late… too late for that…’

Phil knew from the look in Moses’s one remaining eye that he wasn’t going to be dissuaded. Phil put his arm around Letisha and ran towards the door.

‘No,’ she called, ‘no, Moses… I love you…’

Moses looked up. Tears in his one good eye. ‘I love you too…’

Tiny had already managed to escape from the scene. The two henchmen were dead. Phil kept his arm tight round the sobbing, protesting Letisha and dragged her out of the flat.

They reached the landing and he kept going, kept running. Not letting her go.

As he ran, Phil became aware of figures appearing from the stairwell in front of him. Imani and Nadish.

‘Get back,’ he shouted. ‘Down the stairs. The flat, it’s going to —’

The explosion knocked them all to the ground.

P
hil was exhausted.

He had made it back to his home in Moseley hours later. His clothes, skin, hair all stank of smoke from the explosion. He had spent hours following up what had happened, giving statements, writing statements, briefing and debriefing until he couldn’t talk any more. All he wanted was to grab a quick shower then crawl into bed and wait for Marina to get home.

She had texted him a couple of hours ago to say she was on the way from Colchester. He could tell just from her words that she sounded about as tired as he was.

There was no sound in the house, no lights on in any room. She wasn’t back yet. Josephina was still with Eileen. She would stay there for the night. Phil toyed with doing his usual post-work ritual, a beer from the fridge, sitting down and listening to music to reorient himself, but decided against it. A shower then bed.

He went into the bedroom to take off his clothes, grab his bathrobe. And saw a lump in the bed. A Marina-shaped lump in the bed.

‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he said, as quietly as he could, ‘you awake?’

He stretched an arm across to touch her shoulder. Responding to his touch, she turned to face him. Then put the light on. Phil recoiled, pulling his arm back quickly.

‘You’re not Marina…’

‘Not yet,’ said a woman he had never seen before. ‘But I will be. Soon.’

She sat up. Her hair was almost like Marina’s and she was wearing make-up that was an approximation of Marina’s. But it wasn’t her.

Phil’s stomach flipped over.

‘What have you done to my wife? Where’s Marina?’

The woman got out of bed, stood naked before him. Smiled. She began to move towards him. Slowly, languorously, swinging her hips to a lazy, sensuous beat he couldn’t hear.

He backed away.

‘Where’s Marina?’ Fear in his voice now.

‘You won’t be needing her,’ she said, her voice low. Phil realised it was an approximation of Marina’s. ‘Not any more. Not with me here.’

Phil stared at her. He genuinely didn’t know what to do. Whether to use force against her, restrain her, or get out of the house as quickly as possible.

He looked around, desperately trying to find some trace of Marina. There were none. No bags, no suitcases. It seemed like she wasn’t back home yet. That was something. That was a relief.

‘Who are you?’

The woman laughed. ‘Don’t you know? Really?’

‘You’re not Marina. Don’t even pretend. So who are you?’

‘I’m younger than Marina. Better than her. In every way…’ She moved closer to him.

Something struck a chord in her words. Younger. What was that Marina had said on the phone?
Am I too old for you? Fiona Welch said it
…
And Phil immediately knew who this woman was now. But he found that impossible to believe. That woman was in custody.

‘Better than her? You’re pathetic. I don’t know who you are, but just stop where you are right now. Don’t come any closer or I’ll have to use force to restrain you.’

The woman laughed. ‘That might be fun…’

‘I can assure you it won’t be.’

She laughed once more. ‘I’ve come a long way to be here. A very, very long way. I’m not going to let you stop me now…’

She lunged at him, arms stretched outwards. Phil was ready. He grabbed her arms, twisted them down to the side of her body. Immediately she managed to get one free. Phil was surprised by her speed and strength.

She punched him in the side of his head. He saw stars, felt pain slice through his jaw and cheek. She hit him again. Same place, more force. He loosened his grip on her.

She slithered from his grasp, her naked body moving as if it were oiled.

Phil made another grab for her, made to twist her arm behind her back. She dodged out of the way, a smile on her face, her eyes lit by an intense, almost erotic light.

‘Want to play?’ she said. ‘I’m warning you, I’ll win.’

Phil looked around the room, all thoughts of making a clean arrest gone, now desperately trying to find a weapon to subdue her with. His eyes settled on the bedside lamp. It wasn’t very tall, with a thin neck and small shade, but it had a sturdy, heavy brass base. Phil grabbed it, ripping the plug from the wall as he did so, and swung it at her head.

She ducked down, her body jack-knifing, almost bending in two. The lamp arced past her, connected only with air.

Phil responded quickly, swung the lamp low. It hit this time, catching her shoulder. The woman’s hand went to it. She looked up, fire in her eyes, lips curled back, hissing at him.

He swung the lamp again but she was ready. She managed to twist her body out of the way, roll over on the floor and come up by his other side.

Before Phil could react, she pulled back her hand, flattening it out, bending her fingers down to make a hard ridge of knuckle and punched him hard in his kidney.

Phil screamed, his body giving way on one side, crumpling down to the floor.

She bent over him, did the same to the other side. Agony punched its way through Phil’s body, like his torso had been wrapped in razorwire and she was pulling it tight.

She stood over him, looking down. Then took her fingers and moved around for a spot on his neck. Squeezed. Hard. It felt like Phil’s bones had been instantly removed and he lay there, a useless sack of skin and blood, still gasping in pain. He was paralysed.

‘This is a taste,’ said the woman, getting right down beside him, whispering in his ear in Marina’s voice. Her fingers still digging in to him. ‘Just a taste. Of things to come.’

Phil tried to speak, respond. Couldn’t.

‘You’re mine, Phil. Mine. From now on, I own you.’

Phil just stared up at her. Questions hammered through his brain. Nothing came out of his stupefied mouth.

‘I just wanted to see you. Again.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m not disappointed. But I’m not quite ready for you. Yet.’ She bent down to him, tenderly kissed his forehead. Straightened up again. ‘Don’t worry, my darling. I’ll be seeing you again. Soon.’

She took her hand from his shoulder, stood up. Crossed to the wardrobe and took out a full-length coat of Marina’s, put it on. Then she swept across the room, coat pulled round her, fluttering her fingers at him in goodbye, blowing him a kiss. She left, closing the door behind her.

He heard her walking down the stairs, then the front door opening and closing. Sighed.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, his heart hammering. Gradually, feeling began to return to his body, the pain of pins and needles taking over from the earlier pain, and he managed to sit up. As he did so, he heard the front door opening once more.

Panic swept through him. The woman was back.

He tried to pull himself to his feet, grabbed the door handle for support.

He heard footsteps on the stairs, managed to open the door. He was ready for her. Or as ready as he could be.

He saw a figure walking towards him.

Marina.

He sighed.

‘Hey,’ she said.

‘Hey yourself,’ he just about managed to reply.

She smiled. ‘I’m home.’

He collapsed onto the floor.