Death Run (12 page)

Hayman brought up the gun he had taken from the guard. “Move aside.”

“I don't think so,” the broad-shouldered man said.

“I warned you.” Hayman snarled and pulled the trigger. There was a dull click from the gun. “It was all a set-up,” he realised.

With a cry of rage, Hayman launched himself at the two men, raising the gun like a club. But the broad-shouldered man caught his arm easily. He twisted it up behind Hayman's back, ran him across the room and slammed him into the wall.

Hayman slumped to the floor, his vision blurring.

He heard the man who had questioned him, as if the sound was filtered through water. “Thank you, Mr Chance.”

Then everything went black.

On the screen, Jade and Ardman saw the gunman slump unconscious to the floor.

“Why didn't he fire?” Jade asked.

“The guard removed the bullets before he let our friend escape. It seemed a wise precaution. Can't have nasty people running round the place with loaded guns, you know.”

“Suppose not. So, now we know – Rich and the Banker are at Calder.” For the first time in ages Jade was feeling elated. “So, let's go get them.”

“Well…” Ardman coughed. “There is one slight problem there.”

“What?” Jade demanded.

“I have no idea where or what Calder is.”

“It's a…” Jade hesitated. “I suppose it could be a place, or a house, or a company.”

“Or a person or a small country for all I know. But don't worry – we'll find out.”

The door opened and the Professor stepped into the room, followed by Chance.

“Well done,” Ardman told them. “Yes, very well done indeed. Thank you, Professor.”

“My pleasure.”

“But he didn't really do anything,” Jade said. “I mean, there was no mind reading or anything. It was just a trick. Anyone could have done it.”

The Professor laughed. “Oh, please – don't tell them that or I shall be out of a job.” He turned to Ardman. “The man was telling the truth on the phone. It isn't a bluff.” He turned to go, then paused and said to Jade, “It isn't all trickery, you know. You've
spent a long time in the United States. You recently lost someone very dear to you and you're worried you might lose someone else. Your star sign is Gemini and you're not sure whether to cut your hair differently.”

“Yeah, all right,” Jade said, smiling.

“You once had a hamster… No – a guinea pig wasn't it? Called Sam. And the first boy who kissed you was—”

“I said all right!” Jade told him. “Point taken. You're very clever. They should pay you more.”

The Professor nodded and smiled. “And you're very astute. Nice to meet you, Jade.”

As soon as he was gone, Jade glared at her dad. “You told him,” she accused.

“Not me. How would I know that stuff anyway?”

“Hmm.”

Dad frowned. “And you've kissed a boy?”

“Hey, back off. My dad wasn't around to set a good example, remember?”

Goddard entered and interrupted. “We're running a check on Calder, whatever it is. The number Hayman called was a reroute. Went through about four reroutes before it connected, all with different telecoms suppliers and one at least outside this
country. Very high tech. Very clever. It'll take us a while, but we should get the number.”

“Excellent,” Ardman said. “And how is poor Jenkins?”

“Back on duty now. Says he enjoyed his coffee. There is one small problem though,” Goddard went on.

“Oh?”

“Sir Lionel Ffinch's office just called. He wants to know why the police at the school think we have one of the gunmen in custody and didn't tell him. He's on his way over now. And apparently, he's not happy.”

Sir Lionel Ffinch was a tall, lean man with thinning grey hair and hooked nose. Jade took an instant dislike to him as she listened to the man telling Ardman off like a child for not keeping him informed.

“And so I have to find out what is happening inside my own department from some bobby on the beat!”

Ardman seemed used to Sir Lionel's manner and kept his face blank and unresponsive. “I didn't see any need to inform the minister who oversees my department,” he said with no hint of irritation. “Not until we actually had some useful information from the man.”

Sir Lionel grunted. His aide cleared his throat. “And have you? Any useful information, I mean?”

“Oh good question, Quilch,” Sir Lionel said. “Very good question there.”

Jade didn't much like Quilch either – he was a smaller, dapper man about the same age as Sir Lionel with slicked back grey hair.

“No,” Ardman replied. “Nothing I would yet describe as useful, to be honest.”

“Complete waste of time then,” Sir Lionel said.

“Which is why I didn't bother you with it, Sir Lionel.”

Sir Lionel made a noise in his throat which could have been agreement or might have been censure. Turning from the desk, he seemed to catch sight of Jade and her father for the first time.

“And who is this charming young lady?” he asked.

“Get lost,” Jade so nearly said. But she caught Dad's warning look and said nothing.

“It's my daughter, Sir Lionel. Jade Chance.”

“Really? Why isn't she in school?”

This time Jade did answer. She smiled as sweetly as she could manage. “Well, you see, sir, some nasty people came and blew up my school.”

Sir Lionel frowned. “That's all right then. So long as there's a reason. Thought you might be having one of those dreadful bring-your-children-to-the-office days.”

“We have those,” Quilch said. “The PM is very keen.”

“Right then,” Sir Lionel said to Ardman. “Seems we've had a wasted journey.”

“I'm so sorry,” said Ardman levelly.

“You did suggest we should see the prisoner, Sir Lionel,” Quilch reminded him. “Have an official word and all that. Offer him a last cigarette.”

Sir Lionel sniffed. “Do no harm, I suppose. Quick word. Spell out the trouble he's in. Organise it, Ardman.”

“Don't underestimate them,” Dad said to Jade when Ardman had led Sir Lionel and Quilch out. “Either of them. Sir Lionel technically only has supervisory power. He can't tell us what to do. But he can withhold our budget and cripple us if we step out of line.”

“And Mr Creepy-Crawly?”

“Quilch is what they call a Special Ministerial Advisor. So he's expensive and I guess Sir Lionel thinks he's worth it. He and Sir Lionel were business partners before Sir Lionel went into politics. Angus Quilch still runs the company they set up – and a few more of his own besides. Sir Lionel resigned from the board when he was selected by his local party as a candidate. Bit of a shoo-in really.”

Ardman had returned in time to hear this. “I remember it rekindled all those rumours that he paid for his knighthood,” he said. “Beneath that bluster, Sir Lionel is a highly adept politician, believe you me. He doesn't miss much. He brought in Quilch as soon as he became a minister, to make use of his – I quote – ‘outstanding skills and experience of a non-political kind'. That sparked accusations of cronyism. But between them they run the department very efficiently. In fact, it's about the only part of the Home Office that comes in on budget and actually does what it says in the job description.” He sighed. “The downside of course is that Sir Lionel is always looking over our shoulders and minding our pennies. So we have to keep him sweet.”

“Sweet?” Jade laughed.

Ardman smiled back. “In a manner of speaking.”

“So we let him see Hayman to read him the riot act,” Chance said.

“If that's what it takes to be allowed to pursue this, yes.”

“Do you know what Calder is yet?” Jade asked. “I mean, it's been hours.”

“I know,” Ardman admitted. “And we're doing what we can – believe me.”

* * *

Rich was bruised all over. He sat in an armchair in the Banker's luxurious cell and tried to massage some feeling back into his legs. He and the Banker were talking in whispers in case the room was bugged, while classical music played loudly from a CD.

“Mind you,” the banker said, “if they have gone to the trouble of hiding microphones, there may be cameras as well.”

“In which case we're stuffed,” Rich pointed out. “Not that we're in great shape as it is.”

“They don't know that you're here. That has to be to our advantage.”

“Would be if I wasn't stuck in this room,” Rich agreed. “If I can get out somehow, I can go for help. Call Ardman and tell him where we are.”

“We don't know where we are,” the Banker said. “Apart from being inside a castle, we could be anywhere.”

“We won't find out just sitting around.” Rich experimented with walking slowly round the room and found that the numbness was fading from his legs. They ached like hell, but he could walk. If he had to, he could probably run.

“There are no windows,” the Banker said. “The only way out is that door and it's locked. I think there may be a guard outside too.”

“But they don't know I'm here,” Rich reminded him, still whispering.

“How does that help?”

“From what you said, you can't tell Bannock what he wants to know because you don't know yourself, right?”

“Right.”

Rich grinned. “So ask to see him and tell him that.”

“But he won't believe me.”

Rich shrugged. “Doesn't matter. Trust me.”

Sir Lionel and Quilch both seemed a little more understanding after they had met the prisoner. “Unresponsive fellow,” Sir Lionel said. “Good luck with him.”

“Obviously, you will let us know the moment you discover anything germane,” Quilch added.

“Obviously,” Ardman told them.

“Don't worry,” Sir Lionel said to Jade as he and Quilch left. “I'm sure they'll soon have your school open again.”

“Can't wait.”

Her sarcasm was lost on him. “That's the spirit.”

“I hate all this sitting around,” Jade told Dad as soon as they were alone. “We need to be doing something.”

“Nothing we can do,” Dad replied. “Not until we know what he meant by Calder. That's our biggest problem.”

“No, it's not,” another voice said. Goddard stood in the doorway. “Where's the boss?”

“Just seeing Sir Lionel off the premises,” Dad told him. “Why?”

“Our gunman is lying dead in his cell.”

Dad wouldn't let Jade go with him to see. Not that she wanted to, but she didn't want to be alone either. She didn't have to wait long before Dad was back with Ardman, Goddard and the department's doctor.

“Definitely cyanide,” the doctor was saying.

“If he had a suicide pill, why wait till now?” Dad wondered.

“Maybe he thought the Tiger would believe he'd betrayed him,” Ardman said. “Once he knew we'd found out about Calder.”

“Oh, I found a funny thing about that. Bit of a coincidence,” Goddard said, grinning. His grin faded
as he caught the doctor's expression. “I'll tell you later.”

“What makes you think it was a pill?” the doctor asked.

“Simple to hide and to take,” Ardman said. “Not unusual.”

“Possibly. But I'd expect some residue. He'd bite into the pill and crush it. Maybe it would be concealed as a false tooth or in a plastic shell under the tongue.”

“So?” Dad asked.

“So, no residue. And from the speed and violence of his death…” The doctor paused and tapped his chin. “No, if I had to venture an opinion this early, I'd say he inhaled the poison.”

“Inhaled?” Goddard said. “But where from? A tiny pill he could maybe conceal, but we searched him thoroughly.”

“What quantity are we talking about?” Ardman wondered. “Would it be in a spray? Or what?”

“A cigarette?” Jade asked suddenly as she remembered.

“Conceivably,” the doctor agreed. “He would draw air in, over the poison. It doesn't take a lot. Particles come too, particularly if the filter has been replaced.”

“But he didn't have any cigarettes,” Goddard pointed out.

“No,” Ardman agreed. He nodded at Jade to say well done. “But Sir Lionel mentioned offering him a last cigarette. Goddard – check the CCTV footage for the last half hour.”

“Already have, sir. But Sir Lionel and Quilch are sitting right in front of it, blocking the view of Hayman. It doesn't tell us anything, I'm afraid. Except what their backs look like.”

Ardman's phone rang before anyone could comment. He went quickly to answer it.

“Yes, well, I'll leave that with you then,” the doctor said to Goddard. “But I'd check the cell and see if there's a cigarette end in there.”

“Unless he took it with him,” Dad said. “Did anyone see the man alive after Sir Lionel left?”

“I'll check,” Goddard told them. “But you can't seriously believe that Sir Lionel is behind that man's death?”

“Believe it!” Ardman put down the phone. “That was Pete. He's traced the call that Hayman made.”

“And?” Dad asked.

“And it was to the switchboard at the ministry.”

“There's a lot of people at the ministry,” Goddard said.

“Agreed. But the extension number of each call is
logged by the system. Of course, we don't officially have access to that information. But Pete thought we might like to know that their data security could be improved. And that the call was put through to Sir Lionel's personal office. Which, gentlemen,” Ardman continued, his face grave, “means we have a problem.”

“Are you sure, Lionel?” Quilch asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Sir Lionel Ffinch told him. “You take the rest of the week off. I can manage quite well. And I'm still a shareholder even if I'm not on the board. You toddle off and make sure the businesses are running smoothly.”

“Well, just so long as you're sure it isn't a problem.” Quilch still sounded dubious. “What with this Ardman business coming to a head and everything.”

Sir Lionel smiled. “Oh, don't worry, Angus. I can handle Ardman, you know. And there are a few others matters that I'm hoping to give my personal attention to this week.”

When he was alone, Sir Lionel pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and looked at them thoughtfully for a moment. There was just one cigarette missing from the pack. “Yes, I don't think
Ardman will be a problem,” he said. Then he tossed the cigarettes into the waste bin.

The Banker hammered on the door until it was opened. On Rich's suggestion he had first announced loudly that he knew the room was bugged and wanted to talk to Bannock. When nothing happened and no one came after ten minutes, they changed tactics, reasonably sure now that the room was not bugged after all.

Banging on the door achieved quicker results. The guard outside opened it and glared at the Banker. Rich could just see him from where he was hiding behind the almost-closed bedroom door.

“I need to speak to Mr Bannock, urgently,” the Banker said. “Take me to him.”

Rich counted slowly to ten after they had left before he went to try the door. He had not heard the key in the lock, but he still let out a long breath of relief as the door swung open.

The castle was evidently a big place and Rich was hoping there were not many gunmen around. But, ever cautious, he kept to the shadows as he moved along the corridor, hoping he was heading back to the main courtyard where the helicopters had landed.

He pressed himself into a doorway as someone appeared further along the corridor, stepping out of another room. But he went the same way as Rich – moving ahead of him along the corridor. Rich gave the man time to get clear, then continued.

After what seemed forever, but his watch told him was only five minutes, Rich found himself at the end of the long corridor. There was a heavy wooden door, with glass panels in the top. Through them, Rich could see the castle courtyard. One of the helicopters had gone and the courtyard looked bigger than ever. If he simply ran across to the gatehouse on the opposite side, someone would be sure to see him.

In any case, he could see that the massive wooden gates were shut. There must be a mechanism somewhere to open them, but he had no idea where. And it was probably guarded. His only advantage was that no one in the castle knew he was even there, let alone running around free. He needed to keep that advantage.

There was a chance he'd find a phone, possibly even get an outside line. But what would he say – that he was in a castle somewhere but had no idea where? Big help. No, Rich's main priority had to be to get as far away as possible. Maybe there was another way out of
the castle. Or perhaps he could climb down the outside of the walls. If he could get up on top of the ramparts, he could at least see the extent of the challenge that faced him and maybe get an idea of where he was.

He cautiously opened the door at the end of the corridor. Keeping close to the wall, he looked round for a way of getting up on to the battlements high above. He was in luck – nearby was a flight of steps cut sideways into the castle wall. It was early morning and the sun was still low in the sky. The steps were in shadow, so there was a chance that no one would see him – or if they did they wouldn't be able to tell who he was.

Trying to look like a ruthless mercenary gunman who had every right to be there, Rich climbed the steps. It was hard work – they were steeper than they looked and it was a long way up to the battlements. When he reached the top, he paused to get his breath back. Then he crossed the narrow walkway to look out over the battlements.