Cobb had asked for an alarm call and breakfast in his room. He showered, dressed neatly but comfortably and whilst waiting for breakfast he took out the police issue Heckler Koch MP5, stripped it, cleaned it and armed it. He did the same for his PSS and tucked that in his waist band at the back of his trousers.
Breakfast arrived and he sat down to enjoy ‘ham and eggs’ British style. The coffee was strong and the kind he liked. Betty still hadn’t stirred and he wondered how he was going to deal with her.
Across the city Tony Deany had risen from his duty team stopover room’s single bed, washed, dressed and after eating a good breakfast and gone down to the office assigned for him for the two weeks. He was surprised to find Ellie already there.
“Early riser?”
Not usually, it’s hard to sleep knowing these men are out there. I mean twelve dead, the mayhem at Gatwick, sorry to remind you, then the mayhem at that club.” Ellie paused and looked up from her screen.
“It’s not so hard to sleep when you need to. I always rise early, did whilst I was a cop and always do now, no matter how much sleep I’ve had. I suppose I don’t like to waste a day knowing how short life could be.” Tony sat down and logged on. Ellie turned back to her screen and then cast him a sideways glance.
“You know that sounds good to start with and then becomes really quite grim at the end.”
Ellie looked at him. Tony looked back and took in her face. It was a clear skinned, pale oval, set with a wide mouth, a small neat nose and heavy lashed pale blue eyes. Her hair was black and cut in a long ‘bob’. She smiled and he smiled back
“What’s the news from the network?”
She watched him turn to the screen, slightly flushed with embarrassment. He was sweet, especially for a man about six feet tall, muscular, with short, untidy half curled hair. She liked his eyes, slightly hooded looking, almost sleepy and a warm brown colour.
“No sign of Mason. They found the motorbike at the Bickenhall Hotel, well near it. They had an armed team go in softly, softly. You know rang up, woke manager, did a walk in opened door with a key. He was gone. I don’t think they expected to find him.'
“News on Stanton? “
“Nothing really. Daylight will mean the search can get under way, but he’ll know that so they’ll have to search harbours. DIC teams are doing West Coast Harbour checks to see if he put in. There’s a negative response there. As for Cobb, no sign at all. There were a couple of false leads off the CCTV checks, he’s fairly average looking Cobb, especially from black and white footage.”
“So that’s it. You might as well go back to bed.” Deany smiled at her.
“No way. When the call comes in I want to be ready.”
“You’re a bit gung ho aren’t you?”
“I knew Wally Tyson. When I started some years back I was duty team partner to Wally for a year. He was a great guy and a real brain man.” Ellie blinked holding back her tears.
Deany nodded, the word ‘brain’ bringing back the mental picture of open shattered skulls and leaking brain matter on the jetty at the Liverpool Marina.
“So I want to be the one to either bring him in or shoot him.” Ellie said in a lighter tone than she intended.
“I was at the Marina and his house, with his wife and daughter. It was a shocking thing to do to anyone, so I’m keen to get the scum too; just so you know.”
“Good, then he won’t have chance will he.” Ellie looked firmly into mid distance, in her mind’s eye seeing Wally as he was when she met him. Deany stared into his computer screen, but saw Wally’s shattered face and head, dripping with Mersey water, and then he thought of Ginny and Tara. In a moment he’d relit the torch of revenge he swore to himself he’d carry for them.
Across the city the Paddington Green Police Station desk sergeant took the call with some cynicism.
“Right thank you sir. I’ll have that looked into.”
He called the special branch office who in turn called the DIC centre, where the information was passed to Diane.
When the phone rang at seven thirty in Tony and Ellie’s office neither were expecting anything vital.
“Tony, it’s Diane, listen there’s a report of a sighting of Cobb at Claridge’s Hotel in Mayfair. It’s unlikely, but take a photo and trek along to reception there and see whether it’s true. If there’s a positive identification then called armed police, oh and both of you follow weapon check procedures before you go. I had Magda call down for a car.”
“Thanks Diane. You sound tired shouldn’t you sleep?' Tony had a soft spot for Diane and Ellie gave him a knowing smile, Tony acknowledged her intuition and ‘waved her away’ with his free hand, he liked Diane, but not in that kind of way, more like a favourite aunt. Whilst talking to Diane he looked at Ellie, who on reflection he felt was more his kind of woman.
“Not until Jack’s back from Liverpool, he’ll be here by 9am sharp, he said, I’ll sleep then.” Diane said and she hung up.
Tony told Ellie and five minutes later they were in the DIC pool car, a black VW Polo, ideal for the London streets. They went along Marylebone Road, into Portland place, then Wigmore street and Ellie found a parking space for the car on Vere Street. They walked down New Bond Street, into Brook Street and were at the hotel within ten minutes of leaving.
Up in his room Cobb had woken Betty. She was rather hung over and he called down for Alka Seltzer and more coffee. Betty groaned and made for the shower. She hardly remembered what had happened. It was always the same. Her husband had been a stock broker and since his death she lived well, but the kids were grown up, living in America and generally didn’t want to see her when she did fly over. She’d taken to getting bored and going out to get drunk. The hot water brought life into her body and she did remember bits of the night. She knew she was at Claridge’s, she recognised the art deco style from when she’d stayed here before, with her husband. She felt really sore, above and below and wished she hadn’t got so drunk.
The room service had arrived and freshly showered and dressed in a hotel dressing gown she sat in the plush lounge, downed the Alka Seltzer and took the proffered cup of coffee.
“I don’t know your name.”
“Charlie, you’re Betty right?”
“Right. I feel a bit roughed up Charlie, we didn’t do anything weird did we?”
“No it was straight and a lot of fun, you’re a passionate woman.”
She blushed and Charlie, in spite of his harsh life, laid on the charm, it couldn’t hurt to lie a little to ease her discomfort.
“Nice place, you must be doing well.”
“Yeah I’m hoping to close a million pound deal today.”
“Hey that’s nice, my husband was a stock broker he made a real killing in the nineties.”
“Yeah I hope to make a real killing today. You said you were a widow I wasn’t sure if it was true.”
“It is. I bet you’re thinking sad old broad going out and getting drunk and laid like a tart.”
“No Betty, you’re a sweet looking woman can’t be easy being a widow in your thirties.”
“Now you’re being silly.” She smiled nonetheless. She added suddenly, “Charlie I can’t walk out in the evening dress I was wearing. Could you do me favour. If I gave you my keys you could go to my flat in Chelsea and get me some day clothes?”
“Sure Betty.” Cobb wasn’t happy, but he wanted to make things smooth. He didn’t want her getting hysterical, crying rape or calling anyone up. He was hidden and he wanted to stay that way. He called for a taxi, took the address and was about to leave Betty in the room, when he thought about the MP5 in the bag under the bed. Whilst she was in the lounge he took the bag with the weapon in and all his incriminating items from under the bed.
“What’s with the bag. If that’s cash in there I wouldn’t trust me with that much.”
“I wish it was cash, but it’s… the prototype of my new product, secret stuff and all that, patent pending so…”
“It’s okay Charlie, I understand, I wouldn’t trust me either. You’re close to your fortune, take no chances eh?”
“Sure. I’ll be back in half an hour. You sure the alarm’s not on at your house?”
