Silent as the Dead by Scott Hunter

Author:Scott Hunter [Hunter, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social science, Criminology, Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Thrillers, suspense
ISBN: 1986509559
Google: 6qNEDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2018-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Moran was sitting in the darkest corner of the bar to the left of the toilets. Not the most salubrious position but he had a clear view of the street. He’d checked for an alternative exit and found one in the fire escape door by the Gents.

He needed time to think; Charlie’s call had added further unanswered questions to his already long list. He took a sip of coffee and began to arrange them in a rough order of priority. First, why did Black want Aine? Second, where had he taken her? No point visiting the address Black had given; it would be either non-existent or unrelated. Third, O’Shea. The islander was becoming conspicuous by his absence. Fourth, why had the Reading gunman shot himself?

He made a mental note to follow up both forensics and the autopsy with Charlie. He drained his coffee cup. Maybe the gunman would leave some clue as to Black’s whereabouts. The suicide was puzzling; it made no sense.

Moran emptied his mind and began again. Black was planning a big job in the UK. He had men in situ, of which the dead guy had been one. Expendable, then – for someone with Black’s background that wouldn’t be a problem. And sure, if the gunman had given himself up he’d have been looking at a custodial sentence. Injuring a serving police officer, kidnap, threatening a member of the public with a firearm, breaking and entering. Possible membership of a terrorist group. Twenty years, probably – but he’d chosen a bullet instead. Had that been pre-agreed with Black? No prisoners, no risk to the job.

Moran scratched his head. Hell, how big was this job? And the answer came back, clear as day.

Very big indeed.

So, Caitlin Hannigan’s abduction had, in all likelihood, originally been intended to be much more covert an operation than it had turned out to be. A cock-up, in truth. Black’s operative had been spotted on CCTV, Charlie and team had had time to warn Caitlin – on the strength of O’Shea’s intelligence, Moran conceded. The islander had been spot on.

Moran swirled his coffee dregs. The bar was quiet, just a few solitary drinkers in various locations; two at the bar, one at the small table in the opposite corner. All men, all middle-aged, unthreatening. He watched the barman move up and down his workspace, tidying, washing, polishing, smiling and exchanging mild banter with the men at the bar. An image of Jerry came into his mind, trussed and lifeless in the boot of the car. Moran’s mouth set in a firm line. He’d get to the bottom of this for his old friend’s sake, as well as for whatever Black was planning.

He rubbed his eyes, gritty and sore from lack of sleep, and tried to concentrate. Black had what he wanted, which was Aine. And so he’d allowed Caitlin to walk. Risk had been minimised with the gunman’s suicide – preordained or otherwise. Thing was, he just couldn’t figure out why Black needed Aine.

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