Final Justice (Lorne Simpkins thriller (Book Three)) (24 page)

*  *  *

A kick to the stomach made Lorne groan and curl up in to the foetal position. She gagged on the bile threatening to spill from her mouth.

‘Get up, BITCH!’

Slowly Lorne raised her head to look up at the man towering above her. His right leg swung back ready to kick out at her again and she quickly shuffled back against the door. ‘No, please. I’m trying.’

‘You’re stretching my patience, Simpkins. Get to your feet. NOW!’

With her stomach muscles constricting painfully she inched her way up the door to stand in a semi-erect position. Her eyes pleaded with the other man in the room to help her, but he averted his eyes, looking uncomfortable and turned his attention to Baldwin. Lorne noted how wary the other man looked in the Englishman’s presence.

Baldwin let out a crazed laugh and turned to speak to the man alongside him. ‘Ah, Capitaine from the look she just gave you, I think Lorne expects you to help her out of her precarious situation.’

The man she’d recently spent the night with shuffled awkwardly and shrugged.

As Lorne watched the exchange between the two men her mind raced, searching for a way to get her out of her latest mess. As the pain in her stomach seeped away, she straightened to her full-height and pulled determined shoulders back against the door. ‘Huh, the last thing I would want is any help from him,’ she spat in anger, hoping her bluff would eventually work in her favour. If Baldwin got the impression that she didn’t trust the Capitaine maybe he would drop his guard.

The Frenchman’s features filled with hurt, causing Baldwin to let out a belly laugh. ‘I see you left a lasting impression on the ex-Inspector, Michel.’ Neither of them spoke as Baldwin’s amused eyes flicked between Lorne and the Capitaine.

 She carried on with her angry outburst. ‘You’re foolish if you think you can get away with whatever you’re intending, Baldwin. Tony will be back soon.’ Her eyes screwed up, while his danced with amusement, then annoyance.

‘Treat me like an idiot at your peril, Simpkins.’ He stepped forward.

Despite her insides filling with sudden fear, Lorne refused to buckle under his vicious stare.

‘Have you not learnt anything from your dealings with me?’

I will not let him see how scared I am. Tony, where are you when I need you most?

With Baldwin a mere six inches from her and their eyes locked, she found it impossible to see what his hands were up to, but she felt it. As one of his hands roughly tugged at the buttons on her blouse, she heard a loud click, and knew instantly what it was.
Oh God, he’s going to kill me…

Her eyes squeezed shut as she anticipated what was about to happen, but then far off in the distance she heard Michel’s quivering voice plead, ‘Don’t, Robert. She does not deserve this.’

Baldwin grunted a response and continued his invasion of her trembling body. He tore the cotton blouse away to expose the black lace bra straining over her ample breasts. Lorne’s eyes shot open, and her hands automatically rose to try to cover her half-naked flesh, but the sudden feel of cold metal digging in her ribs made her rethink and she dropped her hands again.

She sucked in a breath and held it, without being aware she was doing so, as Baldwin’s head dipped, and she felt him lick and suck at her breast above the flimsy lace.

 
 Wide-eyed, Lorne looked over at the Frenchman for help, but in return he gave another helpless shrug. Refusing to give up, she mouthed "help me" and she could tell by the way he shuffled his feet that his resistance was faltering, if only slightly.

Pricking up her ears, she thought she heard something in the hotel corridor. Turning her head she placed her left ear against the door, but her hope died when all she heard was Baldwin groaning with pleasure as he suckled like a new-born baby. With her mind playing cruel games Lorne tried once again to plead with Michel.

She kept her eyes on Michel as he bent down slowly and removed something from his sock it was difficult to see what it was, but she hoped, no prayed, that it would be some kind of weapon.

Sensing the Frenchman was up to something, Baldwin grabbed Lorne by the wrist and in one quick fluid movement he had swapped places with her. Now, his back was pressed firmly against the door. One hand held her tight around the waist while the other, which was holding the knife, pulled tight across her chest, the point of the blade pressed into her cheek.

‘DROP IT. Drop it or I’ll kill her, now.’

They heard a thud and Lorne knew straight away that Michel had dropped a gun. Her heart sank along with any lingering hope of her being rescued. Michel’s face showed signs of both failure and regret.

Baldwin’s arm tightened across her chest. She felt as if a python was squeezing the life out of her and she coughed as she fought for the slightest breath.

‘Rip the cord off the lamp and bring it to me,’ Baldwin ordered.

Michel’s frown deepened and Baldwin lost patience, the hand around Lorne’s midriff moved up to her face, he gripped her chin, forcing her head to remain still. She winced as the blade tore through her cheek and her knees almost buckled. She bit down on her tongue determined not to cry out as the pain intensified.

Michel grimaced as the blood dripped down Lorne’s face. He succeeded in pulling the wire from the cheap lamp and again attempted to make Baldwin see reason. ‘Come on, Robert, there is no need for that— ’

Baldwin cut him off. ‘When I want your fucking opinion,
frog,
I’ll ask for it. Hurry, give it to me.’

Michel held the wire out to Baldwin as the Frenchman’s eyes locked onto Lorne’s.
Please, Michel if our night together meant anything to you, please help me…

Baldwin released the grip on her chin as he reached for the wire but the blade remained at her cheek.

Michel mumbled something in French. Baldwin snatched the wire and glared at him. Michel clenched the end of the wire and yanked it. As if reading his mind Lorne elbowed Baldwin in the ribs and managed to escape his grasp. Michel lunged at Baldwin and a scuffle broke out. Lorne searched all around her for something to lash out with, but failed to find anything.

Baldwin slashed the Frenchman’s wrist. Michel cried out in pain and fell to the floor. Laughing, Baldwin headed her way.
He’ll kill me for sure this time …
Lorne spotted the gun lying a few feet away, poking out under the bed and cursed herself for not seeing it sooner, she dived for it.

‘Don’t even think about it bitch,’ Baldwin snarled.

But Lorne’s determination outweighed her fear she grabbed the gun and pointed it at Baldwin’s chest, stopping the criminal in his tracks.

‘You haven’t got the guts to shoot me,’ he snarled.

‘Haven’t I? After all you’ve done to me and my family over the years, you doubt my ability to pull the trigger?’ She stood up. ‘Drop the knife, shithead.’

Several minutes seemed to slip by before he finally dropped his weapon.

‘Michel, get the wire and tie his hands together.’

The Capitaine’s hand was already covered in blood he stood up and tottered towards the wire by the door.

Worried Lorne asked, ‘Michel are you all right?’

The Frenchman responded by collapsing on the floor behind Baldwin. The criminal laughed, which incensed her. Glaring and with the gun still aimed at his chest, Lorne stepped forward and kneed Baldwin in the groin, enjoying the control she had over him for a change.

Baldwin buckled but spat at her feet. ‘You fucking, bitch, I’ll make sure you pay for that.’

Lorne laughed, ‘You appear to have forgetten who’s holding the gun, you sick bastard.’

‘Yeah, the bitch I’ve had pleasure hounding all these years. The copper that always came up short, who I took pleasure in taunting and whose family I ripped to shreds with these powerful hands.’

His hands rose up in front of him and hatred shone in his eyes.

Lorne’s anger made her blood accelerate and her heart thump wildly. ‘Why?’

‘What?’ Baldwin replied frowning.

‘Why, Jacques? Why him?’

‘What, you mean, you wish it had been your old man instead?’

‘No. Just answer me, I deserve to know.’

Still on his knees, Baldwin glared up at her. ‘Okay, if you want the truth, here it is. Because he had what I
wanted
.’

‘WHAT?’

‘You heard me, he had
you
. Come on, Lorne, put the gun down, we’ll get out of here and go back to the chateau and watch the money flow into my account. Or if you’d rather we’ll take the yacht and disappear for a— ’

She cut him off. ‘You really are the sickest shit to have ever walked this planet, aren’t you?’ she screamed at him.

Just then the door burst in. Startled, Lorne’s hand jerked and her finger instinctively pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed round the room.

‘YOU BITCH!’ Baldwin shouted, as he fell face first to the floor.

Tony crossed the room and removed the gun from her tight grasp and steered her towards the bed. ‘Lorne, it’s over.’

But she didn’t hear him. Disbelief forced her to gaze at Baldwin’s body as if she expected him to jump up and come after her again. Blood seeped from the warm corpse and began staining the carpet red.
Could The Unicorn really be dead?

Epilogue

‘Well?’ Lorne jokingly elbowed Tony in the ribs.

He smiled at her and flung a lazy arm across her shoulders. ‘Be careful, lady, these hands have killed.’

Any other day, the smile tugging at her lips would have slipped at his blasé words, but not today. No, today was a day of celebration, rejoicing in the fact that they’d successfully escaped Baldwin in one piece. All of them.

Everyone was in a party mood they had a right to be. The drink flowed quicker than a flooding river during a spring thaw, on the gloriously warm end of summer’s day. Tom was in charge of the barbeque, one hand turning the sausages, while his other arm was tucked around Charlie’s waist. Her daughter wore a soppy grin, which had appeared the minute she’d learned of Baldwin’s death and hadn’t waned since.

Jade and Luigi were handing round the drinks and topping-up people’s glasses even if they declined. Baby Gino was in his pushchair in the shade under the old apple tree, with Henry flaked out beside him. It was wonderful to see everyone so relaxed. It had been a while since that had happened.

‘Tony,’ Lorne warned, jabbing him harder than she had before. ‘Tell me?’

‘Why don’t I tell you later, eh, let’s enjoy the day?’

‘Is it bad news then?’ Lorne persisted.

‘Jesus, woman, don’t you ever give up?’

‘Ahhh, Tony, that’s something you’ve yet to learn about my wonderful daughter.’ Sam Collins snuck up behind and stood on the other side of Lorne. He tucked his arm around her waist and squeezed tight. A warm glow washed over her as she appreciated being sandwiched between the two men she cared for most in the world.

Sam had joined up with Tony and Lorne at Nice airport, the three of them had jumped on the next plane out of France, leaving Weir and Taylor to deal with Interpol and the local police.

Tony gazed down at Lorne with love in his eyes and shook his head. ‘So that’s what I’ve got to look forward to if I move in with you, is it? Being interrogated over the dinner table every night.’

Lorne laughed and scoffed, ‘If you don’t tell me what you know, you’ll be living on takeaways for months, mate.’

‘Huh, nothing new there then …’ He winked at Sam over Lorne’s head.

‘Tony!’ she shrieked, her patience at breaking point.

Everyone at the party turned to look at them, but it was Tom who shouted a warning to Tony. ‘Hey, Tony … Now you can see why I agreed to sign the divorce papers so damn quick.’

‘Hey, ex, don’t give him any ideas. I doubt he’ll be needing any advice from you about how to handle me.’ She blew him a friendly raspberry and the gathered friends and relatives roared with laughter.

‘Come on, you, let’s go inside for a minute. Excuse us ladies and gents, will you?’

Lorne pecked her father on the cheek, and headed through the back door and walked into the lounge with Tony close behind her.

‘Why all the secrecy?’

‘It’s still a matter of state secrets, Lorne. I, for one, wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Interpol. Take a seat.’

They sat side by side on the leather couch as Tony filled her in on what Taylor had relayed to him with regard to the situation back in France. He and Weir had touched down in London a couple of hours before and had just finished writing up their reports at Headquarters.

‘So, Baldwin was blackmailing Michel, is that what you’re saying?’

‘Looks that way. He heard about a few discrepancies that occurred in the Capitaine’s past …’

‘Such as?’

‘He liked the ladies.’ After it dawned on him what he’d just said, Tony cleared his throat. ‘But you already knew that, didn’t you?’ She blushed and her eyes dropped to the floor, Tony picked up her hand and gently kissed the back of it. ‘I was joking.’

They shared a quick kiss and she urged him to continue.

‘He used to frequent the odd brothel or two, not uncommon for French men apparently. Well, so the story goes, Michel turned up drunk one night at one of Baldwin’s houses of ill-repute and something happened to the girl he bought the services of.’

‘Define, something happened?’

‘She died, end of.’

‘I get it, she died mysteriously, probably while Michel was asleep, and Baldwin seized the opportunity to get one over on Michel.’

‘You’ve guessed it. From that day forward Baldwin had him tucked up nicely in his pocket.’

‘So, do they know what Rene’s role was in the scam?’

‘They’re not entirely sure, but it looks like Michel and Rene had been lovers for a while. Again Baldwin found out and used the fact to his advantage. With them in charge of the Interpol investigation, it was pretty easy to steer the case in a different direction, even easier to get all the paintings sourced and ultimately stolen. I told you about the Interpol stolen art list, didn’t I? Well, Interpol has access to who owns the most valuable paintings, and where they’re stored. Simples!’ Tony said, imitating the Meerkat off his favourite TV commercial.