The Keeper (27 page)

‘Please. You don’t want to do this, I know you don’t.’

‘Give me the fucking clothes,’ he screamed. ‘Give me the fucking clothes, you lying whore.’ She shook at the ferocity of his attack, pulling her knees up to her chest as if they were a shield, the hate in his eyes telling her he would not relent. Slowly she began to pull the sweater off, sobbing uncontrollably all the while. She passed it through the hatch to him, jumping back as soon as he took the item, unsure of what to remove next, the blouse or the skirt. ‘Hurry up,’ he demanded. She turned her back to him and began to undo the buttons of the blouse, her tears slowing as fear was replaced by humiliation and embarrassment, everyday emotions finding their way into her extraordinary situation. The blouse slipped from her shoulders and she passed it through the hatch, her left arm pressed across her chest, head bowed to avoid his leering face as she kneeled and unzipped the waist of her skirt, pulling it over her hips and down to her knees, adjusting herself into a sitting position before removing it completely and passing it through the hatch, his hands greedily grasping it, tugging it away.

As she hugged herself in the corner of her cage she looked up to see him moving around to the door of her prison, pulling the key from his pocket and easing it into the lock, opening the door and stooping into her space, the stun-gun held out in front of him as he inched towards her like a scorpion readying to strike. ‘You shouldn’t have betrayed me. That was a mistake. You’re just a little whore trying to make me do things to you – dirty things, bad things. Well now you’re going to get what you want, whore. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.’

Sally and Sean sat in the front of the unmarked car they’d concealed as best they could in a residents’ parking area about forty metres from the house where Jason Lawlor was supposed to be living. If they parked any further away they wouldn’t be able to recognize him when he arrived, but if they parked any closer he would almost certainly spot them and probably take flight. Several of the local low-lives had already paid them some unwanted attention. A small intelligence record photograph of Lawlor rested on Sean’s thigh. Anna sat in the back of the silent car, while Donnelly and Zukov were close by in another, as were DCs Maggie O’Neil and Stan-the-man McGowan.

The dilapidated old house backed on to the railway lines, the sound of passing trains only adding to the sense of foreboding as they watched the streetlights flickering on in the dusk, making the surrounding trees appear quite black.

‘He’s going to be difficult to spot,’ Sally stated, ‘in this light, from this distance.’

‘There’s enough light around the entrance to the house,’ Sean argued without looking away from the front door. ‘If he turns up, I’ll recognize him.’

Sally shrugged and the car returned to its silent vigil. After a few minutes Sally spoke again, to break the increasingly oppressive atmosphere as much as anything. ‘You’re Anna Ravenni-Ceron, aren’t you?’ she said, looking into the back of the car. ‘I recognized you from the picture on your book cover.’

‘Which book?’ Anna asked with a smile.

‘Your latest one, I think.’

‘
Programmed to Kill
?’

‘Yeah,’ Sally answered. ‘I thought it was good. You talked a lot of sense.’

Sean shifted uncomfortably in his seat and for a passing second considered telling Sally that the woman she was talking to was in part responsible for Gibran worming his way out of a trial for her attempted murder.

‘Thank you,’ said Anna. ‘It’s always good to get positive feedback from someone who actually deals with the sort of people I write about.’

‘Until I read your book I hadn’t realized most serial killers stay within their own ethnic group when selecting their victims.’

‘I’m glad you could learn something new from it.’

Sean could listen to no more.

‘Anna Ravenni-Ceron – is that your real name, or something you thought would help sell a few more copies?’ he asked, only turning to look at her after he finished his question.

‘I write books to try to educate people, not to make money.’

‘So you give the profits to charity then?’ he sneered, facing forward again. She didn’t answer.

‘Over there,’ Sally suddenly said, ‘other side of the street. It could be our man.’

Sean strained to see through the slightly misted windscreen. ‘That’s him.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Sally asked.

‘I just am. The way he moves, stands. The way he’s looking around. It’s him.’

‘He knows we’re here,’ Sally said. ‘He can sense us.’

‘Wait, he’s crossing the road. Let’s do it.’ Sean lifted the radio that had been hidden between his legs and spoke as clearly as he could into it. ‘Suspect One’s at the address, everybody move in, move in.’ He started the engine and pulled away as quietly as he could, keeping the revs low as he closed the short distance to the man who had now crossed the road and was approaching the front door of the house. As they got nearer Sean suddenly accelerated then braked hard to stop directly outside the house. The other cars hadn’t arrived yet. Sean jumped from the car, leaving the radio on his seat and pulling his warrant card from his jacket. Lawlor looked like a startled deer caught in the headlights of an approaching truck, his eyes frozen wide open and nostrils flared as he assessed the danger, his legs tense and ready to sprint.

‘Police. Stay where you are!’ Sean shouted, his warrant card held in front of him. Lawlor looked one way then the other, before suddenly jumping over the low wall at the side of the staircase that led to the door. He sprinted across the paved garden and leap-frogged another low wall, hitting the pavement running smoothly and powerfully. Sean reacted quickly, but not quickly enough to cut him off before he’d reached the open pavement. Both men tore off along the darkening, empty road, their legs and arms pumping, Sean desperately hoping their race would be no more than a short sprint before Lawlor gave in.

Sally and Anna got out of the car just in time to see the men disappear around the first corner and into an alleyway.

‘Shit,’ Sally shouted as the other two unmarked cars screeched to a stop next to her, the detectives spilling out. ‘He’s run, he’s run,’ she told them frantically. ‘The guv’nor’s gone after him, but he’s got no radio.’

‘Where?’ Donnelly shouted.

‘Down the alley.’

Donnelly turned to the younger, lighter detectives. ‘Go on then. What you waiting for? Off you go.’ Zukov and the two detectives broke into a hesitant run, staying close to each other as they jogged along the road and disappeared into the alley. He noticed Sally subconsciously clutching her chest. ‘You all right?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, a little breathlessly. ‘I should have gone after him. I should have stayed with the guv’nor.’

‘And then the rest of us wouldn’t have had any idea where you were or what had happened.’

‘I would have taken a radio,’ she argued.

‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘The others will catch up with him.’

‘No they won’t – and I don’t think he wants them to.’

Sean’s raincoat trailed behind him like broken wings as he burst from the alley. Lawlor was only a few metres ahead, never once looking over his shoulder – years of running from the police had taught him that could be a costly mistake. They ran straight across the emerging road, causing a passing car to judder to a stop, its horn blaring as the two figures disappeared into another alley and faded into the darkness.

Halfway along the alley Lawlor suddenly leapt to his side, hitting a six-foot fence and scrambling over it like a cat a second before Sean’s hands could grasp his ankle. ‘Bastard,’ he muttered, launching himself at the fence, his upper-body strength dragging him over just in time to see Lawlor straddle the fence on the opposite side of the garden. Now that they’d left the roads and alleyways, Sean knew he was on his own; the chasing pack would have no idea where he’d gone. He felt his ankle almost give way as he landed on hard grass, relieved it was only a fleeting pain as he sprinted across the lawn and jumped at the fence, clearing it more smoothly than he had the last. Remembering to roll as he hit the grass on the other side, he sprang back to his feet in one motion, cursing the raincoat that continually threatened to trip him as he struggled to see clearly in the ever-increasing darkness. Lawlor had already cleared the next fence, using a garden bench to vault it, the distance between the two men remaining the same. Sean maintained his pace as his foot hit the bench while his left hand helped him clear it, but this time it wasn’t grass that waited for him, it was paving slabs, slippery with winter moss and moisture from the cooling air. His right foot gave way under him and he hit the ground hard, his shoulder and hip taking the blow, his forehead connecting with the leg of a cast-iron table, forcing him to call out in pain as he pressed his hand to where he knew he’d been cut, feeling warm, slippery blood escaping from the wound.

‘Come here,’ he yelled after Lawlor, quickly back on his feet and moving across the garden, heaving himself over yet another fence, breathing hard and heavy now.

At first he could see nothing in the twilight, but where his eyes betrayed him his hearing came to the rescue: Lawlor had changed direction, heading for the end of the garden instead of traversing. Sean could hear the sound of feet scuffing against the higher fence as Lawlor struggled to pull himself over, fatigue beginning to override his fear and adrenalin. His own anger and the pain from his bleeding head and bruised shoulder drove him on, flooded his body with hormones that pushed him forward despite the burning in his brain and muscles. He hit the back fence just as Lawlor snaked across and landed on the other side with a thud, his footsteps heading away. Sean’s hands grabbed the top of the fence as he jumped from a standing position, pulling and scrambling until he was able to hook a leg over and roll on to the other side, but the fall was much further than he’d expected as the ground fell away from the backs of the houses.

Suddenly he heard a tremendous noise screaming up behind him. As he turned to see what it was, a dazzling beam of light came bearing down on him like an exploding star. Shielding his eyes with one hand, he braced himself for the sound and light to send him to oblivion, stumbling backwards, tripping and falling, until he saw the train crashing past, its passengers oblivious to the drama only inches away as the whistle screamed in alarm. He rolled further from the tracks, pushing reflections of near death aside as he scrambled back to his feet and scanned the trackside for Lawlor. The lights of the train picked him out no more than twenty metres ahead and Sean took off after him with increasing determination, already looking forward to the moment when he’d be kneeling on Lawlor’s back, twisting his shoulders and snapping on the quick-cuffs.

The train receded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie silence as Sean chased the shadow in front of him, concentrating on his running, maintaining a short powerful stride, arms pumping like pistons, occasionally flailing to the side when he slipped on the large pieces of loose gravel that ran alongside the tracks and between sleepers.

The darkness was almost total now, but then a spot of light appeared in the far distance, approaching slowly and silently at first. As it grew larger and louder, its speed seemed to increase tenfold and then tenfold more until it was a meteor hurtling towards them. Sean looked down at the darkness under his feet and assured himself that the approaching train would pass him safely by on the parallel set of tracks, but as it grew dangerously close he realized it had been disguising another sound, a rumbling and humming from the tracks he was running along. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a second light heading towards them, moving slower than the other, but still capable of bringing instant death to anyone who got in its way.

Sean knew he should stop, give up the chase and let Lawlor escape, hunt him down another day, but once he was after his man his police instincts took over, instincts that had been drummed into him since his first day on the force. To lose a suspect was the greatest of sins. So he resolved to keep going – keep going until he had Lawlor under his heel or lost him to the darkness of the night. He wouldn’t give up the chase, no matter what.

The silhouette of Lawlor kept moving steadily forward, but Sean could see he was tiring as he kept losing his footing, teetering to one side and then the other, his arms jutting out to keep his balance or break his fall, and all the time the lights from in front and behind continued to converge on the two men. Soon Sean would be close enough to kick Lawlor’s legs from under him and end the chase. But just as the train coming towards them was almost level with Lawlor, he burst across the tracks, his silhouette perfectly framed by the approaching light, and jumped clear less than a second before one hundred tons of metal moving at sixty miles per hour hurtled through the space he’d leapt from.

Despite the close proximity of the slower train behind him and the speed of the train in front of him, Sean could think of only one thing: unless he went now, Lawlor would be lost – and God knew when he’d surface again. Without looking over his shoulder, he crossed the first set of tracks, the reverberation vibrating the muscles in his legs, the lights so close they cast his shadow long and far, stretching it further with every fraction of a second, until he leapt to the second set of tracks, closing his eyes as he ran.

When he landed on the grass bank he was temporarily blinded and deafened by the noise and light of the train. Disorientated, almost confused to find himself still alive, he tried to work out which direction he was lying in. Along the tracks he saw a shadow stumbling down the grassy bank into the darkness below. He jumped to his feet and sprinted diagonally down the bank, closer and closer to his target until finally he threw himself headfirst across the remaining distance between them and brought Lawlor to the ground with a thud.

Sean pressed Lawlor’s face into the wet grass and held him there while he got his breath back. ‘I told you to stand still, didn’t I?’