The Unseen (42 page)

“Will you fucking listen to me. Don’t give up. The van’s not been seen since. If he dropped the girls first and came back for Danielle, he’s within thirty, forty minutes drive of the crime scene. I’ll be brutal, Sean. He’s sadistic, your girls will scream. He’d need isolation.”

“He gags his victims.”

Her eyes never faltered, locked to his, no mercy, only frustrated rage. “I’ve talked to expert psychiatrists. All agree he would enjoy it more if he heard their screams.”

He wanted to hit her. Every nerve in his body was tense again. She kept eye contact while fishing in her handbag before producing a folded sheet of A4.

“Printout from Heidi’s computer. Travelpath list. Three remote properties are within forty minutes drive of your home. Zoby could be using one of them. It’s a chance good as any. That and the mobile location may find them. You going to sit there?”

He knew she was right and was thankful for her strength. He raised a hand to touch her, then fastened his seatbelt instead. “Let’s go.”

“There’s a map in the glove compartment.” She turned on the klaxon and headlights, then drove out into the airport traffic, cutting light through darkness.

Once the aircraft had levelled, Richard listened to the background whisper of the engines. The seatbelt light went off and moments later a trim stewardess passed by on her duties. Richard stood and removed his briefcase from the overhead locker to place it on the seat beside him. He had to check, to be certain.

The laptop case remained inside. The blue chalk mark on the front told him it was real. The flash drive files from WorkWell sat in their pockets. Everything was as it should be except something, he wasn’t sure what, but something made him slide the computer from its case and open it on his lap. For a few moments he tapped the keys then sat staring at the screen. Mickey Mouse stared back.

The numbing cloak of hopelessness which had coiled round Sean’s mind slowly loosened its intensity. It didn’t go away but he began to think rationally again. Urgency became paramount, so did news. He called Jan first.

“How’s Danielle?”

“At my place. Sexually molested but no penetration. Got stitches in her leg. Mood swings from anger to tears. Needs a lot of reassuring.”

“Does she know about the girls?”

“I’ve said nothing.”

“Don’t. I want to give her good news.”

“I know you been pushed into touch, boss, but it you want me out there, I’m kind of available.”

“I appreciate it, but stick with Danielle, she needs you. This guy is still loose.” He switched to redial then had a better idea. “I’m going to text Zoby and lay bait.”

“Use this.” Victoria reached to her door pocket and extracted a silver mobile. “It belongs to the department. They have constant monitoring locked onto the mobile number found in Harrison’s flat. You’ll find his contact number sent by e-mail to the Colonel, it’s top of the address list.” She turned on to the M25 and began to weave through traffic, her full attention back on the road.

For moments Sean watched her profile, the small sweep of her nose and delicate chin. Her eyes glowed like black refection of the night. He knew then that his daughters were part of her vengeance, part of her silent fury and determination. She was formidable now, and for that he gave back his trust. He switched on the mobile and began to text.

Location and sit rep. Note my new contact no. and report.

“If he answers we keep him on line,” Victoria said. “So long as he’s switched on, so long as his phone pulses for four minutes we have him. Base can also re-route any calls he makes to reach the mobile you hold.” She checked her watch. “First address thirty minutes.”

They drove for twenty before a bleep sounded on the silver backed instrument Sean held in his hand.

Where’s my money?

“We have contact.” Sean pressed buttons.

Money ready. What location? Col.

He watched the message send, watched the screen flicker, then fade to save.

Victoria slowed to the inside lane and pressed to his shoulder, glancing down at the tiny screen. He sensed her energy and strength and again drew comfort from it. He waited, keeping his eyes on the phone as it lay in the palm of his hand like the dead husk of some giant beetle. Nothing happened. “He’s gone.”

“But we made contact. We know he’s there and using that number. Think positive. The moment he switches back on the office will bleep our phone. I’ll turn off the klaxon. Try him on voice. I know it’s dangerous, he may not recognise you as the Colonel, but we have to risk it, we have to draw him out.”

She leant to the glove compartment, searching with one hand to produce a small, sealed packet. One hand still on the steering wheel she ripped open the cellophane with her teeth, stuck a button mike over the back of the silver mobile and clipped the receiver behind her ear. “MI5 goodies. I can listen up to a hundred metres,” she paused. “And Alice gave back my automatics.”

Richard stared at the screen in dumb horror, realising somewhere, someone had switched laptops. He extracted a flash drive from its case. It appeared to be the original. He started to slot it into a port then stopped. If this was not his laptop, then it might be programmed to corrupt the master files. He sat in hesitation as full realisation dawned. If they had swapped briefcases when he mounted the stairs to first class, then they knew which aircraft he was on. They knew of Harry Woods.

He sighed despondently, the same time a passenger in front stood in the aisle and turned to him.

“Hallo, Richard. Remember me?”

Richard looked at the legs, the short, tight skirt and strutted hip. He remembered her all right.

“Stella. As if I could forget.”

“Mr Wileman sent me to make sure you had a comfortable trip, to make sure his files were OK.”

“How did you know I was on this flight?”

“Business efficiency, Mr Caswell. It’s my job.” She reached for a black laptop on her own seat then sat next to him, juggling her skirt to semi modesty before resting the computer on her thighs. Finally settled, she undid her jacket to display a stretched blouse. Small, rimless spectacles perched on her nose and the same loose hair hung in wisps against one check. “You don’t mind if I try them?” she asked, extracting a flash drive from Richard’s briefcase.

Richard stared out the blackened window into the darkness of night and listened to her try each file in turn. Eyes closed he pondered over his best way out. They had cheated him, stolen his work. SPI could have made him a multi-millionaire. By remote hypnosis, he could have killed any person, anywhere; had a dozen Zobys following his directions. He felt satisfaction over the killing, watching from the sidelines, knowing it was his work. He had money still. He would survive. He snorted breath thinking of Zoby with two schoolgirls, wondering what he’d do to them. Serve the coppers right, always interfering.

“These are real good, Richard,” Stella said, pushing the flash drives into her own computer bag and then replacing it on her seat.

“They are?” He sat up in surprise.

“Perfect. Mr Wileman will be real pleased.”

“You understand them?” he said, doubting her capability.

“Perfectly. I have my doctorate in computer science now. Recently I tried your early research on our own staff. Efficiency improved by fifteen percent and job dedication by twenty. We’re on to both a commercial and political winner.” She hesitated and gave a tight smile. “Providing it’s kept secret. Under the circumstances, I’m to ask if you would like to rest up at Casco Bay. The house is empty except for a maid. I have encryption facilities in the Beach House. We can make copies of the master files and then insert them into our main programme.”

Richard looked into the gap between the buttons of her blouse, then down at her legs. She eased herself which hitched the skirt higher. What he wanted most was to get the files back. This gave an opportunity to copy them at the beach house. Wileman and the girl would never know.

“Am I to assume you are available for other activity?”

The smile narrowed and her lips compressed. “The maid will take care of your sexual requirements. I’ve since risen in the ranks.” She passed him a flash drive of her own. “This is Mr Wileman’s new project for you. A lot of money is involved. He wants you to study it during the flight and let him know what you think. Afterwards you get paid a great deal of money.” She slotted the flash drive into his computer. “You start working, Richard. I’ll drink the champagne.”

The mist lifted and Zoby pushed himself up to lean against a wall. His leg throbbed with pain as he removed the towel and cringed at the congealed mess underneath. He washed the wound plus the surrounding dark and purple skin.

“Has to be a bullet wound,” he said and pulled open the bathroom cabinet smashing bottles to the floor as he scrabbled amongst the contents, searching for ointment which he smeared over the discolouration before covering it with gauze and plaster strips. What he wanted most was distraction. Money, women. He picked up his mobile and keyed in a message.
Where’s my money?
“You hear that, Colonel? I never been wounded before, I want my money. I want another woman. You can’t count the alien as a woman. Fucking hostiles, shit man, I’m going to give those bitches hell.” He switched the phone off and slipped it to his shirt pocket.

They sat as left. The elder one had been crying, the left side of her face now red and puffy. The alien had her lips clenched. The floor under her seat was wet.

“You pissed yourself!”

She looked away from him.

“Shitbag! Disregard for hygiene is a disciplinary offence.” He lifted the sword from the table. He could feel his mother strapping him, saw the belt coming down and down on the flaming skin of his arms, his shoulders and his back. No one listened to his screams as she forced him down, rubbing his face into the stinking floor, pushing him deep inside, making him hide where no-one could see.

“She couldn’t help it, we’ve been here hours. Please.”

“Please what?” He turned to the elder, edging the sword under the hem of her skirt.

“Please don’t hurt us.” She was shaking her head, crying again.

He flicked upwards, slicing the material. “Sir, you call me sir,” he shouted it into her face. “Understand that? Hostile!”

“Yes, sir.”

He stooped and licked her. She tasted sweet and salty which gave him an instant hard on. “Prepare yourself, pretty thing. I’m getting ready to fuck.” Straddling her legs, his hand in her hair, he jammed her forward, mouth to crotch. Then remembering she bit, he stepped hurriedly back.

Her eyes were closed, her face screwed up, her lips clamped.

“Get used to it, girl. It’s tough in the Marines. See that?” He pointed to scars on his arm. “That’s from ’Nam, that one’s the Gulf, that Afghanistan.”

“Liar.”

He looked down to the alien, not believing what she had called him as he lifted the sword. “Who the fuck asked you to speak? You stinking, little shitbag. You’re gonna die, now. One swipe.” He placed the sword blade on her shoulders, standing back to measure his stance and settle his feet. The head rose clean above the chair back, just perfect. She had her eyes jammed tight, her body shaking. The older one sat like a stretched stork, her eyes wide as she mouthed silent words. Then they came tumbling in a torrent.

“I’ll do anything, I promise. Don’t kill her, I beg you. I’ll suck you, anything!”

Zoby laughed and found the boy inside was laughing too. He pointed the sword to her chest. “Only playing, pretty thing. See, I don’t really want to kill her, not yet awhile. We got four, maybe five days of fun to go and before I’m finished you’ll both be sucking like piggies at the sow.” He unzipped his flies, switched on his head radio then waited for the static to clear. “Colonel, this is Zoby. Mission proceeding as ordered. Hostiles under control, I’m about to start the fun.”

“Proceed on my order only.”

“Combat conditions don’t allow that, Colonel. I’m a hostile short and I need distraction from the pain. I’m going to check your command with headquarters.” He switched on the mobile. “If they say go, the alien gets first treat, then you, pretty thing.” Zoby banged his head to close down the combat radio. Almost immediately his mobile rang. It filled the silence of the room. He couldn’t believe his mobile rang. It kept ringing. This was no text. He pressed to answer.