The Killing Club by Paul Finch

Author:Paul Finch [Finch, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Heck charged five hundred yards through tangled thickets, ignoring the motion cameras as they turned on their pivots to watch him, before reaching the rearmost outer boundary, which was composed mainly of thickly woven hawthorn and stood to a height of nine feet.

Hefting the shears he’d brought from the shed, he went at the foliage hard, slashing and hacking his way through its outer carapace, burrowing on and on until he was clean through to the other side, though it cost him, his face and hands scratched, his blue flock tracksuit plucked and torn. Beyond it lay open, rolling farmland, stripped bare of crops and covered with stubble. Heck plunged across, tripping, stumbling. On the far side, he waded a brook that came almost to his knees, then clambered a low rock wall and found himself on another winding country lane. In no particular direction, he ran.

It felt ridiculous to be doing this – an invitation to disaster, but one thing was certain: there was no time for idling around in the company of Tweedledum and Tweedledee. He knew he was disrespecting the chain of command, not to mention breaking personal promises again, for which there might be severe consequences, but some things were more important than that.

He crossed a humpback bridge, and on the other side of that found a payphone on the verge. He entered the booth, grabbed the phone and asked the operator to reverse the charges to Gemma’s personal number. It cut straight to voicemail. He spent several costly seconds deliberating about who to call next. The only other number that came to mind was a certain landline in Battersea.

‘Shawna McCluskey,’ came the response.

Her tone was thick, nasal, as though she’d been crying, but it cracked with disbelief when the operator asked if she’d accept reversed charges from a Mr Heckenburg. There was fierce agreement, and the call went through.

‘You bastard!’ she said. ‘I’ve been suspended because of you! For the first time in my sodding career, I’ve been bloody suspended!’

‘Alright, I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

‘Oh, yeah, how? You’re not a bloody miracle worker, Heck! You’re the top man when it comes to saving your own arse though!’

‘Shawna, please … listen to me, I haven’t got very long.’

‘Thanks to you, I’ve got all the time in the world …’

‘Come on love, Lancashire loyalties, eh?’

‘Oh, is that what you’ve rung me for? To bag another favour? Not to apologise?’

‘Both … if you’ll let me.’

‘Make it quick,’ she said sulkily.

Heck glanced over his shoulder to ensure the lane was still deserted. ‘First of all … I’ve been trying to get Gemma and there’s no response.’

‘There won’t be. She’s in the air by now, on her way to Scotland. She actually rang me from Heathrow to tell me to go home. She sent me home, Heck!’

‘I know, I understand …’

‘Yeah, course you do.’

‘Look, I’ll call Gemma later, but if she speaks to you first, tell her to watch her back.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘No details … no time for that.

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