Fear of the Fathers (28 page)

“Yes, of course,” he nodded. “It should take some of the heat off. I think it might give me a chance to get out of the country.”

“Is that your plan then? To escape to some warmer clime? Maybe live out your life in Brazil like Ronnie Biggs?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “I've got a bit of a mission on. I need to help a friend out with something important.”

Stella put down her mug. “Don't you think it's a bit more important to get yourself sorted out? If you get caught it's a lifetime in prison. The way the police have portrayed you, they might even consider bringing back the death penalty.”

“I hope it won't come to that,” he said. “But don't worry, what we're doing involves leaving the country anyway.”

Stella got up and stretched her legs. “So who is this friend? He must be a good one if you're taking risks.”

Oggi stroked the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yes, he is a good friend. I think you might know him.”

“Oh, really? What's his name? Is it Tags?”

Oggi shook his head. “No, not Tags. I think you'd better sit down.”

Stella did as he requested, her stomach presaging something ominous.

Oggi got up and opened the bathroom door. “Come on mate,” he said. “You'd better come out and face the music.”

Stella stiffened as the figure appeared in the doorway. She took a brief look, then fell to her knees and started to convulse.

“Turn it off!” Annie screamed. “Turn the fucking thing off!”

Kamal held up his hand, indicating that she should be quiet. “No,” he said. “We must see this.”

The newsman began to talk…

“Early this morning police found the mutilated bodies of a woman and child at a house in Greenwich. They have been identified as Miriam and David Steele. Police urgently want to interview this woman – Annie Steele – in connection with the murders. The public are warned that she is extremely dangerous. Let's go over to our correspondent Alan Tilbury who's outside the house now…”

“Hello Trevor. Yes, this is a particularly grisly scene. Police were alerted early this morning when a neighbour saw a young lady fleeing the house. The neighbour came round and found the two bodies in the living room. She immediately called the police who were here within minutes. It was then that they discovered the true horror of what had occurred. Their throats had been slashed and both bodies had sustained multiple stab wounds. One officer said it was the most distressing sight he'd seen in thirty years on the force…”

Annie's body began to shut down.

“…We have been given unprecedented details of the crime, due to the urgency with which they need to find the suspect. And I can reveal exclusively that the real name of the woman in question is in fact Tracy Tressel, the infamous double killer…”

Kamal turned to Annie. She was almost catatonic. He squeezed her hand and returned to the news.

“…Alan Tilbury there, reporting from Greenwich. I believe we can now go to Chief Inspector Roger Drabble of the Metropolitan Police, who can tell us more about the case. Good morning Roger. Thank you for agreeing to talk to us.”

“Good morning Trevor.”

“Tracey Tressel will be a familiar name to most of our viewers, but if you could just give us a brief reminder of exactly who she is…”

“Of course. Eighteen years ago an eight-year-old girl was found guilty of murdering her father and her sister in a savage knife attack. She was subsequently sectioned and treated. She was released six years ago having been deemed no longer a threat to the public. She was given a new identity and reunited with her mother. The girl in question is Tracy Tressel, or Annie Steele as she is now known. Unfortunately, as has now been proved so tragically, her release was a mistake.”

“There will be questions as to the safety of her release and the culpability of those who facilitated it of course, won't there Roger?”

“Of course there will, but that is not the issue for the time being. The most important thing is to find and capture this very dangerous woman. In her current state of mind there is no telling what she may be capable of. She represents a very great risk to all members of the public, which is why we have taken this very unusual step of releasing all details to the media. We need the whole country looking for this woman. But I must warn people not to approach her in any circumstances. If you see her, phone the police immediately. Do not, I repeat, do not try and apprehend her yourself.”

“Thank you Roger…Chief Inspector Roger Drabble there, giving us some background to the case. We will of course keep you updated of any further breakthroughs throughout the day.

“In other news…”

Kamal picked up the remote and muted the TV. He continued to hold Annie's hand. “Annie,” he said. “Annie.”

There was no reply.

“Marvo!” he shouted. “Marvo! Get in here!”

Marvo was at the door in an instant. “What is it?” he asked.

“It's Annie, she's gone into shock.”

Marvo knelt down in front of her and tested her eyes. “Fuck!” he said. “She's completely fucking gone.” He put his massive hands either side of her head and closed his eyes, letting the power surge through to his palms. He held for thirty seconds and then stopped. Some colour had returned to her previously cadaverous cheeks. “Annie,” he said. “Can you hear me? Just give me a little nod if you can.”

She nodded briefly.

Marvo held her hands in his. “Now just breathe slowly. Everything's alright. Everything's going to be alright.” He turned to Kamal. “She'll be fine. I'll go and make some tea. Just hold her hand.”

Five minutes later he returned with mugs of tea and a small breakfast for Kamal. Annie took her tea silently and drank only at Marvo's bidding.

“What the fuck happened man?” he asked Kamal. “She was fine this morning. What did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” said Kamal. “I said nothing. It was the television news.”

“The news?” questioned Marvo. “I've never seen the news do that to anyone. I know it's boring, but this is ridiculous.”

Kamal picked at his food lightly. “There have been murders,” he said. “Her family have been murdered.”

“Fuck me!” exclaimed Marvo. “What the fuck's going on here Kamal? You know I never ask questions, but this is starting to freak me out. How much shit are you two in exactly?”

Kamal sighed. “You are a good man Marvo, I do not wish to burden you with our problems. Give me a couple of hours and we will be gone.”

Marvo cocked his head. “Don't be so stupid Kamal. You're not going anywhere for days – that's doctors orders. I'll help you like I always do. It'd be nice to know what's going on that's all. The more I know, the more I can help. A problem shared etc…”

Kamal put down his fork. “Well, I suppose you are going to see the news at some point…It is like this…” He related their tale briefly, including the news item and Annie's real identity.

When Kamal had finished Marvo sat back in his chair. “Jesus H Christ! That's fucking crazy! No wonder she's in shock…Tracy Tressel, well I fucking never.” He sat forward in the chair and gave Kamal a serious look. “What are you going to do?” he said.

Stella spat the acrid taste from her mouth, and gazed at the pool of vomit through watery eyes. A light switched on in her head and she suddenly remembered where she was, and what was happening. Looking up to the doorway she stared hard at the blurry vision.

Oggi helped her to her feet. “Here, have this,” he said, handing her a wad of tissues.

She wiped her eyes and then her lips. Then, with frightening speed, she took two steps forward and punched Stratton square in the face. There was a sickening crunch and he stumbled backwards and landed in the bath holding his nose. His legs dangled over the side. Oggi stifled a snigger.

Stratton removed his hand and stared at the blood. He smiled up at Stella. “Nice to see you too,” he said.

Stella looked into his eyes, and against the angry tide felt a surge of warmth flow through her. The confusion welled. Desperately she tried to suppress a grin. But the harder she fought, the stronger the urge became, until eventually the only way to break the stalemate was to let go of her hatred. “You fucking bastard,” she laughed. “I fucking well hate you!”

Stratton held out a bloody hand. “Any chance of helping me out?” he grinned.

“Get yourself out. You seem to be able to do everything else on your own. I don't see why a bath should pose a problem.”

Stratton heaved himself out and washed his face and hands in the sink. “I think you've broken it,” he said, walking into the bedroom.

“Good,” said Stella. “You fucking well deserve it. Although no doubt you'll fix it in a couple of seconds.”

“Good point,” he said. He touched his nose lightly. There was a small crunching sound. “That's better.”

Stella gawped in disbelief. “Have you really just done that? Or are you winding me up?”

“No, it's not a wind up. Look, feel it, it's as good as new.”

Stella poked at it cautiously then pinched it hard. Stratton didn't flinch. “Wow!” she said. Then she noticed something else that wasn't right. “And your teeth – they've grown back, what's that all about?” she asked.

“Trick of the trade.”

“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” said Oggi.

“No, it's alright,” said Stratton. “Where are you going to go? I don't recommend the bathroom, it's not that comfortable. And besides, you can hear everything in there anyway.”

Stella sat down on the edge of the first bed. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, looking at the pile of sick gracing the floor.

“It's no problem. I'll clear it up,” said Stratton. He grabbed some tissues and set about the task.

“I'll make some more drinks then,” said Oggi.

Stella watched as Stratton got to his knees and removed chunks of her breakfast from the carpet, secretly pleased at causing him grief. The overwhelming desire to laugh had passed, and she was back to a state of irritation, if not full-blown rage. “So,” she started. “It was nice of you to let me know you were alive.”

Stratton looked up from his scrubbing. “Listen, I'm really sorry, but it was for your own good.”

“My own good! My own fucking good!” she scolded. “Is crying yourself to sleep for two months good for you? Is feeling sick with guilt every second of the day good for you? Is alienating everyone you care about good for you?...Come on Stratton, tell me…”

Stratton held up his hands. “Okay, okay, I get the point. Maybe it wasn't good for you. But what was I supposed to do? The less people that knew, the better. Do you know what would happen if people found out I was alive? How long do you think it would be before the media got hold of me and started proclaiming me as a fucking Messiah?! I don't want all that shit.”

“But I'm not just ‘people' am I?” She looked at him with disdain. “Or maybe I am.”

“Listen Stella, I'm really sorry. Perhaps, in hindsight, I should have told you. But what would you have done? Come to live on the moor with me and Oggi? If Cronin had got a whiff that you knew I was alive then he would have got it out of you. And the same goes for that Alonso guy, and God knows who else that's after the box. Being the grieving girlfriend has kept you safe.”

“Don't give me that shit!” roared Stella. “It's kept you safe more like.”

Stratton got to his feet and sighed. “Look, I've said I'm sorry, there's not much else I can do. I made the decision to keep you out of the loop, and rightly or wrongly I stuck to it. You're here now, and that's all that matters. I can't change the past.”

“Really?” she said. “You seem to be able to do just about anything else.”

Stratton ignored the comment. “Is that tea ready yet Oggi?”

“Coming right up.”

Stratton took his mug and sat down next to Stella who instantly moved herself away.

“It's like that is it?” he said.

“It's not like anything. I just want some breathing space.” She accepted another mug of coffee from Oggi. “So, what do you know about Cronin?” she asked.

“Only what Tags has told us,” said Stratton. “Same with Alonso.”

“So you don't know anything about these secret societies and plots in the Church?”

“Nothing specific, no. I guessed that there must be people out there who knew about the symbols, but I had no idea who. It looks like we're in deep shit. I can't think of a worse enemy than the Catholic Church. And I don't expect they're the only ones we have to worry about. We've got to disappear.”

“Where to?” asked Stella.

“India,” said Stratton. “We've got to take the box back to India.”