Stalkers

‘And afterwards? What happened then?’

‘They killed her.’ Blenkinsop took a long slurp of whisky, his eyes downcast. ‘Put a wire round her neck … and garrotted her with it.’

Heck paled even more. ‘You witnessed this?’

‘God forgive me … yes.’

‘And you didn’t do anything?’

Blenkinsop’s gaze flirted up. ‘Are you kidding? You haven’t seen these fellas. I was fucking terrified …’

Heck leaned quickly forward. ‘Well … the law may understand that. But it’s not going to understand why you didn’t go straight to the police afterwards, you stupid fuck!’

‘After what I’d just done? I was as much part of it as they were!’

‘Are you genuinely telling me this is their full-time business?’

Blenkinsop shrugged, helpless. ‘I assume so … it must be. They’re totally professional. I mean, everything about them … they had masks on, so I never saw faces. They were so organised. They give you this guarantee beforehand that nothing’s going to come back to you, that you’ll never hear about the incident again …’

‘What … you thought they’d pay her off, or something?’ Heck said scornfully.

By the expression on the banker’s face, this was exactly what he’d thought.

Heck shook his head. ‘You seriously believed a professional woman like Louise Jennings could get kidnapped and raped and never mention it to anyone just because she’d been bribed to keep her mouth shut? Can you just buy anything in your world, Ian? What did you think, that you’d see Louise every day at work afterwards and she’d never bat an eyelid because the Nice Guys had made it worth her while? Are you bloody stupid, or what!’

‘I don’t know what I thought … maybe something like that, maybe that they’d put the fear of God into her, maybe a bit of both. It’s carrot and stick, isn’t it? That’s the way you get people to comply. Look, whatever … they guarantee it won’t mess your life up, and they’re so efficient you believe them!’

‘Mess your life up?’ Heck had to struggle to regain his breath. ‘Jesus Christ, I’ve come across some things in this job … I don’t know what sickens me more, the fact that they actually do it, or that there are enough callous bastards out there like you for them to make it pay!’

‘Look,’ Blenkinsop pleaded. ‘I genuinely didn’t think it would end like that. I feel terrible about it.’

‘Some consolation that’ll be to the Jennings family.’

‘I’m an idiot, I accept that.’ Blenkinsop swilled more whisky. ‘But I’m not evil. Look … when I first saw their website, I didn’t even think they were serious. I got in touch with them to see if it was real, and then it was just too late to stop.’

‘It’s never too late to stop.’

‘I lost control, alright? Look … I really, really fancied Louise. I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to get near her any other way. So I did it. Okay, I didn’t think about her or the consequences, and I know that’s wrong, but I just had to fucking have her …’

‘That’s going to sound great in court, Ian. You’re really going to win the judge over with that argument.’

Blenkinsop hung his head. ‘I just … I just want things to be back to normal again, back the way they were before.’

‘The way they were before?’ Of all the things Heck had heard today, this was the peach. ‘Ian, we’re talking kidnap, rape and murder here! So that’s three life sentences you’re facing before we even consider the other women!’

Blenkinsop’s mouth dropped open. ‘The other women? But I didn’t have anything to do with those.’

‘Not taking action to shop these men makes you their accomplice.’

‘That’s insane.’

‘That’s the law.’

‘I … but I …’ Blenkinsop looked as if he was going to be sick; he frantically drained his glass. ‘Some kind of witness protection, or … if I testify. I mean, I can’t face …’

‘The only way we can even contemplate that is if you give me something concrete I can use against the Nice Guys.’

‘I’ve told you all I know.’

This was at least partly true. Heck knew that Blenkinsop’s use as a material witness would be limited, even though he’d been present at one of the murders. The same applied to all the others whose personal files resided in that filing cabinet in Deke’s house. Every one of them would have been subjected to the same blindfold treatment.

‘How the hell did they get in touch with you in the first place?’

‘I told you … they dropped me a card.’

‘What, they just pulled your name off a list of porn subscribers? At random? Sounds a bit risky.’

‘Not any old list. Somehow or other they know I’ve got money.’

Heck leaned forward again. ‘It isn’t just about the money, you prat! Not every rich man will indulge in a spot of sexual homicide if he thinks he can get away with it. The Nice Guys will realise that even if you don’t.’

Blenkinsop shook his head. ‘You’ve got me so wrong …’

‘They didn’t, did they!’ Heck’s thoughts were racing. ‘They must pick their prospective clients carefully. There must be something that drew their attention specifically to you.’

‘I don’t know …’ Blenkinsop’s brow creased as he pondered. ‘There’s … there’s one possible thing. Only occurred to me this morning. I mean, it’s a long shot …’

‘Go on.’

‘I go abroad a lot. For the bank, you know.’

‘Okay.’

‘All over the Middle East and North Africa. I’m a director in structured commodity finance. I have to tap up some pretty important people.’

‘Very impressive. And what else do you get up to over there? Come on, Ian, you’re obviously dying to tell me …’

Blenkinsop mopped fresh sweat from his brow. If it was possible, he looked even more embarrassed than he had when admitting his involvement in a rape-murder. ‘There are all kinds of services you can obtain in those countries which are not … well, not widely available over here.’

‘And what’s your preference, I wonder?’

‘I like a bit of the rough stuff.’

‘Well, we’ve already established that, haven’t we? You’re a fucking rapist.’

‘No!’ Blenkinsop half-shouted. ‘No, it’s not rape … not over there. It’s consensual. They get paid for it.’

‘Yeah … probably in peanuts.’

‘That’s not my fault. It’s their living, and it’s their choice.’

‘And are any of these girls actually old enough to have made this choice responsibly?’

‘Some of them, yeah.’

‘Some of them!’

‘Look …’ Blenkinsop pointed a shaking finger. ‘I didn’t create the culture of corruption they have in these countries. You know what the Third World sex game’s like. Some girls look older than they are. Some look younger. No one cares about it. No one ever asks. I didn’t either.’

‘You’re a real stand-up bloke, Ian. I can’t imagine why the Nice Guys homed in on you. Course … none of this explains how they knew about these predilections of yours, does it?’

Blenkinsop pawed at his sweaty brow. ‘I was thinking. . the Nice Guys … they’re so competent, so organised. I could be wrong, but … there’s something a bit military about them.’

‘And?’

‘Well, whenever we go abroad … I mean on company business, we use security consultants to put us in touch with bodyguards over there. We have to. Some of these places are pretty dangerous, you need escorting everywhere.’

‘Bodyguards?’ Heck said slowly.

‘Mercenaries … for want of a better term.’

‘Or for want of an even better one, sex-slavers. Is that what you’re saying?’