Read Online Dead Man's Gift 02 - Last Night by Simon Kernick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Kernick
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a rich married man in a bar, start an affair, then we, er … we tap him for money. I thought it was going to be the same this time. But then Phil came round tonight and … Well, you saw what he was trying to do.’
‘It was risky trying to kill you in your flat.’
‘It’s not actually my flat. It’s just a short-term let that Phil sorted out so that I had somewhere to take Tim back to. He didn’t like doing it in hotels, you see.’
‘How long were you seeing Tim for?’
‘A couple of months. Much longer than usual. I should have known something was up. Phil wanted me to get loads of info on Tim. He even wanted the alarm code on his house, and for me to get copies of his front door keys.’ She shook her head. ‘Christ, I’ve fucked up so badly. I thought Phil loved me. I thought we were only doing this sort of thing to help clear his debts, then we could be together properly.’ She looked at Scope and he saw there were tears in her eyes. ‘What happened to him back there? Is he okay?’
Scope knew he had no choice but to tell her the truth. She was going to find out soon enough. ‘He tried to kill me. I killed him.’
Orla pulled over, her hands shaking on the steering wheel. ‘He’s dead?’
‘I’m sorry. I had no choice. He had a gun and a knife.’
She sat rigid in the seat, looking utterly shocked. ‘Christ,’ she whispered. ‘What am I going to do now?’
‘You’re going to help me,’ Scope told her. ‘Has Phil ever mentioned a man called Frank?’
She shook her head. ‘He never told me much, and I never knew anything about his business deals.’
‘I’ve got a lead, but I’m going to need access to a computer. Where do you usually live?’
‘I’m not going to tell you,’ she said.
Scope sighed. ‘You think the people behind this are going to let you live? As soon as they find out Phil didn’t kill you, they’ll come back to finish off the job. Right now, you’re better off with me.’
She stared at him for a long couple of seconds before pulling away from the kerb without another word.
Scope settled back in the seat, knowing that by killing Phil Vermont he’d put Max and Tim in even more danger, and that the time he needed to help them both was fast running out.
10
As far as Frank Bale was concerned, the world of organized crime was one where the subcontract was king. That way there was always a buffer between the various layers involved in the crime itself, and far less chance that the top people would get fingered. In this case, it seemed some Chinese had a problem they needed solving but lacked the London-based expertise to deal with it. So they had contacted Frank’s employers, who worked out the solution, then brought in Frank to carry it out. He in turn subcontracted out the abduction of Max Horton and the blackmail of his father to Phil Vermont, knowing full well that Vermont was greedy and ruthless enough to get the job done.
And right up until barely an hour ago, the whole thing had been working fine. Now, though, they had a problem and, since Frank was a hell of a lot nearer the bottom than the top of the criminal structure he was involved in, he was going to have to watch his back in the coming days.
There were already a dozen police vehicles and an ambulance parked outside the townhouse where the woman Phil Vermont had used to ensnare Tim Horton had had her flat, and the road had been closed in both directions. Frank parked in front of the line of scene-of-crime tape and heaved himself out of the car. He was a big man – too big these days – with thick jowls, a hard layer of fat hanging down round his waist that even the expensive Hong Kong-tailored suits he wore could do little to hide, and an ongoing eczema problem. Even the wife looked at him with barely disguised disgust when he was naked, and it seemed it was only whores who could stand to sleep with him these days.
He showed his ID to a uniformed copper and changed into protective overalls
‘It was risky trying to kill you in your flat.’
‘It’s not actually my flat. It’s just a short-term let that Phil sorted out so that I had somewhere to take Tim back to. He didn’t like doing it in hotels, you see.’
‘How long were you seeing Tim for?’
‘A couple of months. Much longer than usual. I should have known something was up. Phil wanted me to get loads of info on Tim. He even wanted the alarm code on his house, and for me to get copies of his front door keys.’ She shook her head. ‘Christ, I’ve fucked up so badly. I thought Phil loved me. I thought we were only doing this sort of thing to help clear his debts, then we could be together properly.’ She looked at Scope and he saw there were tears in her eyes. ‘What happened to him back there? Is he okay?’
Scope knew he had no choice but to tell her the truth. She was going to find out soon enough. ‘He tried to kill me. I killed him.’
Orla pulled over, her hands shaking on the steering wheel. ‘He’s dead?’
‘I’m sorry. I had no choice. He had a gun and a knife.’
She sat rigid in the seat, looking utterly shocked. ‘Christ,’ she whispered. ‘What am I going to do now?’
‘You’re going to help me,’ Scope told her. ‘Has Phil ever mentioned a man called Frank?’
She shook her head. ‘He never told me much, and I never knew anything about his business deals.’
‘I’ve got a lead, but I’m going to need access to a computer. Where do you usually live?’
‘I’m not going to tell you,’ she said.
Scope sighed. ‘You think the people behind this are going to let you live? As soon as they find out Phil didn’t kill you, they’ll come back to finish off the job. Right now, you’re better off with me.’
She stared at him for a long couple of seconds before pulling away from the kerb without another word.
Scope settled back in the seat, knowing that by killing Phil Vermont he’d put Max and Tim in even more danger, and that the time he needed to help them both was fast running out.
10
As far as Frank Bale was concerned, the world of organized crime was one where the subcontract was king. That way there was always a buffer between the various layers involved in the crime itself, and far less chance that the top people would get fingered. In this case, it seemed some Chinese had a problem they needed solving but lacked the London-based expertise to deal with it. So they had contacted Frank’s employers, who worked out the solution, then brought in Frank to carry it out. He in turn subcontracted out the abduction of Max Horton and the blackmail of his father to Phil Vermont, knowing full well that Vermont was greedy and ruthless enough to get the job done.
And right up until barely an hour ago, the whole thing had been working fine. Now, though, they had a problem and, since Frank was a hell of a lot nearer the bottom than the top of the criminal structure he was involved in, he was going to have to watch his back in the coming days.
There were already a dozen police vehicles and an ambulance parked outside the townhouse where the woman Phil Vermont had used to ensnare Tim Horton had had her flat, and the road had been closed in both directions. Frank parked in front of the line of scene-of-crime tape and heaved himself out of the car. He was a big man – too big these days – with thick jowls, a hard layer of fat hanging down round his waist that even the expensive Hong Kong-tailored suits he wore could do little to hide, and an ongoing eczema problem. Even the wife looked at him with barely disguised disgust when he was naked, and it seemed it was only whores who could stand to sleep with him these days.
He showed his ID to a uniformed copper and changed into protective overalls
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