“Know thyne enemy, Reilly. Fail to prepare, and you prepare to fail.”
Reilly was suddenly aware of Dave Rawson and Bob Anderson behind him. Four more operational support officers joined them.
“Oh, we’ve brought the cavalry, I see,” said Roger, removing the pointed hat.
“In case it’s escaped your attention,” said Reilly, “my partner isn’t with me. He’s unconscious, possibly dying for all I know, so I want to know who stabbed him and what was in the syringe?”
“Like I said, it wasn’t me,” said Roger. “It was this lunatic here.”
Reilly glanced at Anthony and then back at Roger. “But all of this was you,” he said, spreading his arms and pointing to all the mirrors.
“Yes,” said Roger, “this was my doing. I needed to draw him out, after everything he’d done.”
“Killing your brother, you mean? I get that.”
“And the others,” Roger added.
“Others?”
“Yes, the rest of his team. He’s killed them all.”
Reilly still wasn’t sure about that. He covered the short distance between them like a streak of lightning, grabbing hold of Anthony Palmer, pushing him back against the mirror. “What’s in the syringe, sunshine?”
“I don’t know,” sobbed Anthony.
Reilly pinned him against the wall.
“Steady, Sean,” said Anderson.
“Back off, Bob. I want an answer and one way or another he’s going to give it to me.” Reilly faced Anthony Palmer. “I’ll ask you again, what was in the syringe?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t know. It was all Zoe’s idea.”
“Zoe Harrison?”
“Yes. She contacted me yesterday, told me everything.” Palmer stared at Roger Hunter. “Told me he was shit-scared of needles, like I am of clowns. She told me how to deal with him, and how and where to get what I needed. She set me up with a contact. Cost me a fortune.”
“My heart bleeds for you. Who was your contact?”
“I don’t know.”
Reilly was losing his temper. He slammed Palmer back against the mirror, causing a splintering sound.
“My patience is wearing thin with you. If you don’t give me information you’re going to have a mirror where your face should be for the rest of your days. Where did you meet this contact?”
Anthony tried to cover his head with his hands. His knees buckled slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never saw the guy, never met him. I was told to go to an address in Beeston and collect a parcel in the shed. And I had to leave the money?”
“And you have no idea what was in it?”
“No… sorry.”
“Have you completely lost your senses?” shouted Reilly, seething. “You might have killed my partner.”
“It wasn’t meant for your partner,” screamed Anthony. “It was meant for him. That fucking nutter over there has killed everyone. I’m telling you now I did not kill my friends. He did.”
Reilly glanced at Roger Hunter.
“He’s lying, Reilly. He’ll say anything to get out of the mess he’s in.”
“But he’s been out of the country. How could he have killed his colleagues when he wasn’t even here?”
“Don’t be fooled by his pathetic appearance, the man is a cold-hearted killer. You know how good he is with computers. How do you know he’s been out of the country? I’m telling you, he’s done them all. He starved James, poisoned Michael, killed Zoe. Now it looks like he’s tried to kill Gardener.
“Wake up and smell the coffee, Reilly.” Roger backed away. “He set up the whole thing, murdered his colleagues because he wanted to keep everything for himself.”
Reilly was going nowhere fast, and all the time his partner was in serious trouble.
“Enough,” shouted Reilly. “I’ve heard enough of this shit and backbiting.” He glanced at the operational support officers, and then toward Anthony Palmer.
Reilly removed his warrant card and waved it in Anthony’s face. “Anthony Palmer, I’m arresting you for the murder of David and Ann Marie Hunter. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
He glanced at the operational support officers. “Take him down the station. He can explain everything when we have a lot more time.”
The arrest was made swiftly and cleanly and the four officers dragged Anthony Palmer from the building.
“Well done,” said Roger, “you’ve arrested the right man.”
“For the murder of your brother, yes.”
“And the others.”
“Well that’s where I have a problem, Roger, old son.”
“Meaning what?”
“We know for a fact what killed Michael Foreman, a pretty lethal dose of nitrogen mustard. Now tell me, where would Anthony Palmer lay his hands on that stuff? We have your records, Roger, we know what you’re capable of, where you work, and the fact that you were one of the people who developed HN-3. Need I go on?”
Roger remained silent, as was his right to do so.
“So,” said Reilly, “easy way, or hard way?”
“No point doing things the hard way,” replied Roger. “I’ve achieved what I set out to do. I’m just sorry that your partner got in the way. I hope he’s okay, Reilly. I really do.”
“That makes two of us.” Reilly turned to Rawson and Anderson. “Another one for the station, boys.”
Epilogue
Reilly arrived at the hospital and was shown to a side room. Gardener was in bed, wired up to a bank of machinery that was recording his every movement. But he was still unconscious.
Reilly sat down with a coffee and a doughnut. “Guess you’d have something to say about this shit I’m eating. But you’ll have to let me off this time, I haven’t eaten much today.”
Reilly realised his partner was in the best place though he couldn’t stand to see all the electronic machinery beeping away, but at least it wasn’t a constant beep.
He
