Vendetta (27 page)

‘He?’ Rio cut in sharply. She hadn’t figured the newest member of her team was gay.

Martin cleared his throat. ‘He told me that, a few nights back, the embassy hosted a party for former Russian officers who had fought in the Afghan–Russian conflict back in the 1980s, who are now resident in London.’ Rio opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he held up his palm. ‘Our victim’s father was in the Red Army and got that medal of honour, so I got to thinking that maybe my friend might know something about him. Strange thing was, he didn’t really want to speak at first. Then he told me that Gregory Romanov had been part of an elite unit and had been killed in an ambush.’

‘Nothing strange about that,’ Rio finally said.

‘No. But he said that there were rumours that Romanov died suspiciously.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know, my friend sort of clammed up. I know it probably doesn’t mean anything, but it gives us a deeper insight into our victim. But he did tell me something else.’

Rio raised her eyebrows expectantly.

‘Elena Romanov came to the veterans’ bash at the embassy. But she didn’t come alone.’

‘Who was with her?’

‘She was accompanied by her sister. She’s living here in London. I don’t have an address yet . . .’

‘Have we got a name?’

Martin nodded once. ‘Katia.’

sixty-two

7:35 p.m.

The gunman in the hotel room stared at the four passports laid out on the bed. After making his escape from the man who’d followed him, and his associate from the car wash, he needed to get out of the country now. Just needed to decide which ID to assume to make it happen. He chose the US one.

Name: Felix Bloom

Occupation: Businessman

Well, the last accurately fitted in with what his job really was, except he was in the business of murder. He’d taken his time getting back to the hotel as a precaution in case he was being followed. As soon as he realised he was in the clear, he’d backtracked to the hotel. A real shame about Peter, though, but that was the way the game panned out sometimes. He packed his carry-on pack and a suitcase that was filled with clothing he’d never had any intention of wearing. He zipped up the case. Then he wiped the place clean. Now he had only one more task left to do.

He took out his mobile. ‘The samples have been taken care of.’

‘And everything went well?’

He hesitated. Confessing that you’d messed up was never a smart move.

‘What happened?’ the other person asked, making him realise that he should never have paused.

‘We had one problem along the way.’

‘What problem?’

‘All you need to hear is that our business transaction has been successfully completed. Now all I need is the remainder of the fee.’

‘I’ll come and meet you . . .’

‘No, I will come to you.’

‘No, I can’t afford for you to be tracked back to me. So just tell me where you are and we can both be on our way.’

So he reluctantly told the contractor. It was never good for anyone to know exactly your location in this business.

Katia.

The name marched inside her mind as Rio walked towards her BMW. Martin was still trying to find an address for her, and Rio knew she had to get to her before someone else did. Mac? She still didn’t want to believe that Mac was the man with his finger on the trigger, but the evidence said different.

Mac’s blood in the hotel room.

Mac’s face on the hotel’s CCTV footage.

The e-Photofit that was a dead ringer for him.

As she pulled open the passenger door, her mobile started going. ‘DI Wray,’ she answered.

‘Rio.’

Her body tensed. ‘Sir?’ she said, addressing DCI Newman. ‘I’ve got everything under control. I’ve identified the prime suspect and believe that he may already be in custody. Phil Delaney told me I was off the case—’

He cut over her. ‘Don’t tread on any toes. Just be careful.’

‘Why would I need to be careful?’

Long pause. Then he spoke again. ‘Just don’t tangle with Philip Delaney. He might be able to wreck your career – or worse, put you in the firing line.’

The line went dead. Wreck her career? Phil? Firing line? Was she in some type of danger?

With question after question bouncing against the four walls of her mind, she jumped into the driver’s seat. Shoved the key into the ignition. Checked the rear-view mirror. Froze. In the back seat sat a hooded figure. The light danced shadows across the face, making it hard for her to see the features. But she saw the gun.

Recognised the voice of the man who said, ‘Don’t do anything stupid, Rio. We just need to clear the air. Now drive.’

She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Mac.

sixty-three

8 p.m.

‘I didn’t kill her.’

Rio said nothing as she stared at Mac in the back seat of her car. Stared at the Luger on the seat beside him. He’d made her drive to the roof of a car park where the darkness of the sky appeared heavy and deep. Rain was gushing over the car.

Mac looked like a desperate man. Unshaven, hollow-eyed, with an expression that Rio had seen many times on the faces of murderers – grief. A wave of pity came over her, just for a pinch of a second. Then she hardened her heart. Reminded herself that it was her duty to uphold the law.

‘If you turn yourself in now, I’ll do everything I can to make sure things go better for you.’

‘You’re not hearing me, Rio.’

‘You can give your side of the story once you’re in custody.’

‘I would never have killed her.’

‘Let’s drive back together. Now.’

‘I loved her.’

That stopped their quick exchange. Their eyes caught and held. He needed to know she wasn’t backing down, so she kept her gaze steady. Finally he looked away.

‘So you did know her? Elena Romanov?’

Rio got her answer as Mac winced and wiped his hand over his mouth.

‘She was a member of the illegal arms gang I’ve infiltrated.’

‘How well did you know her?’

‘If you’re asking if the baby she was carrying was mine, then the answer is yes . . . Well I think so.’

Rio knew he was hurting; she could see it stamped all over his face. She also felt the pain of her friend losing another child, but she shoved it away. Pain or no pain, Mac was a fugitive from the law and her job was to bring him in.

‘How did your relationship with her start?’

His gaze shifted out of the window. His distraction made Rio eye the gun. She recognised the moment. The moment to do something to get out of this twist. She switched back to his averted face. Back to the gun.
Do it now.

But her chance disappeared when he turned back to her. And she wished he hadn’t – not because her chance was gone, but because of the pain in his face. A pain that softened the edges of her determination to do what was right.

Finally he answered her question. ‘It was a straightforward op. Deep cover as an independent armourer; gather as much info on the gang to put them away for ever. So I looked for the weakest link. You know, the person who isn’t sure whether they’ve made the right choice in their life. And that was Elena. Young, beautiful . . .’ There was a hitch in his voice. ‘So unsure. She was their communications person – almost invisible, really . . .’

‘She was working for a criminal gang, not giving out parcels to the poor on behalf of the Red Cross.’ Rio drew in a weary breath. ‘It sounds like she came from a troubled background and possibly her father had enemies . . .’ Rio clammed up.

‘Enemies? What enemies? What do you know about her father?’

‘Look, all I know is that her father died in a war, years ago.’ Rio deftly switched their conversation. ‘Now you, on the other hand . . .’

Mac’s face screwed up. ‘Don’t you think I feel shit about what I did?’

‘You might feel like crap, but Elena Romanov can’t feel a thing because she’s dead.’

He leaned forward. ‘I never meant to sleep with her; she was just so easy to talk to.’ A faraway expression settled in his eyes. ‘She made me laugh. Do you know how long it had been since I’ve done that? You know, a “shout out to the world that I’m still living” laugh. It started out with me milking her for information and ended up with me not being able to go to sleep without her breath against my neck.’

‘How did you end up in the hotel room with her?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Stop fucking me around . . .’

‘I don’t know,’ he repeated forcefully. ‘I got a call from her late last night. She said she was scared, that someone was going to kill her. That’s when she told me about . . .’

He swallowed the next word.
So you are hiding something,
Rio thought. But she let him carry on.

‘I just knew I had to keep her safe. So I told her to meet me at the hotel room. The last thing I remember is opening the room door. Then waking up with a bullet wound in my head.’

He pulled off his cap. Rio drew in a breath when she saw the wound.

Rio remembered Charlie’s assessment that the person on the bed had been shot by someone behind him, standing in the doorway. The wound on his head seemed to verify that Mac had been shot.

His words kept coming. ‘Someone set me up. Shot me and then murdered Elena. When I woke up, I found her dead in the bath. Whoever did it used my gun.’

Rio’s gaze skidded to the Luger. ‘Then let me take you in. Tell your story and we can investigate . . .’

‘Only problem is, you don’t believe me.’

‘Why would someone shoot you and not make sure you were dead? Why leave you alive to tell the tale?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that I need you to give me time . . .’

‘No way . . .’

‘I’ve got to find out who killed her and I know it’s got something to do with . . .’ He stopped talking.

‘Something to do with what? Has this got anything to do with Phil Delaney?’

‘You’ve seen Phil?’

‘Did you escape from him?’

‘Escape?’

‘He said that he had you in custody?’

Mac leaned back. ‘What else did he say?’

Rio looked him over. ‘He never had you in custody, did he?’ She twisted her mouth. ‘That rotten, lying . . . what game are you and Phil playing? What else is going on here, Mac?’

He said nothing.

‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.’

Mac fingered his gun. ‘I need you to tell me everything that you’ve found out through the investigation.’

‘And if I don’t? You planning to add me to the pile of bodies you’ve left behind?’

‘I’d never hurt you, you know that. But . . .’

A phone pinged. Rio knew it wasn’t hers, but Mac ignored the noise. Instead he said, ‘Don’t stand in my way.’

And before she could say anything else, he rushed out of the car and into the rain towards the exit.

Rio revved the engine. Put her foot to the pedal. Come hell or high water, she was taking Mac in.

sixty-four

Rio slammed the car backwards. Swung into a one-eighty. Motored around the parked cars. The front of the car bumped up as it hit the concrete slope leading to the next level at speed.

Level Four.

Rio twisted the wheel. Tipped the car into a tight angle. Carried on down the sloping path.

Level Three.

She kept twisting and tipping.

Level Two.

Level One.

Twist. She slammed the car back as another vehicle got in front of her. A monster SUV.

She wound the window down. Yelled, ‘Get out of the fucking way.’

Two small faces looked at her from the back seats of the SUV. Cursing at kids wasn’t going to help her promotion prospects. But there was nothing she could do but trail behind the front vehicle.

Ground level.

Rio swung her car round the SUV and shot towards the barrier. Crashed through it. Gazed ahead, but all she saw was a rush of late-night shoppers going into the shopping centre opposite. If Mac was in the crowd, she couldn’t make him out. But then Mac might not have gone into the mall; he might have exited on another level. Slowing down, she cruised the perimeter of the car park, taking her time looking for him. Finally, when it was clear he was probably long gone, she stopped the car beside a row of large steel, blue-lidded dumpsters. As the car came to a halt, a rattling noise sounded from the back seat. Rio rolled her eyes. Not the car going on the blink again – she’d only had it serviced and sorted last week. She turned around and immediately saw a small cylinder-shaped object, tan-coloured with a white flip cap.

A pill bottle. It rattled with the jangle of tablets inside when she picked it up. She couldn’t decipher the writing on the label because it was in another language. It must’ve fallen out of Mac’s pocket.