Thorn In My Side (31 page)

8.35 pm

As a fleet of
ambulances left the monastery for the hospital, Mike and Kristina
stood over the dead body of the gunman. Cassie was on her way,
physically unscathed, to her mother, and a traumatized Danny had
been taken to his friend Evan’s flat. It was touch and go with
Shelly, but the ambulance crew were doing everything they could to
stabilize her. If she made it to the hospital, she stood a chance.
Dave and the other brothers were all being interviewed.

9.00 pm

A pathologist
that Mike had never met before had been sent up from Newcastle to
fill in for Jill. The woman, who had been on her knees staring at
the gaping wound in the gunman’s throat, stood up. She stretched,
with her hands on her hips. Long and lean. Mike could not help but
admire her lithe shape. Morgane Westwood was a beautiful woman,
with thick, raven-black hair tied at the nape of her neck, and
large violet eyes. But Mike was distracted only momentarily. His
mind was in a place far different from the claustrophobic walls of
this small space. He was wondering how Tony could have done this
cold-blooded murder. The Tony he knew would be incapable of such a
callous act.

Why?

The only reason
he could come up with was to silence Shelly and the gunman. Both
obviously knew too much, but too much about what?

The information
Shelly had given him had been garbled, to say the least. A group of
families, stretching back God knows how many centuries, who
controlled everything, even down to the global credit crunch that
she insisted was coming this winter and would affect just about
every country in the world. Dave certainly knew nothing about the
so-called families. He only knew the tyrant who had ruled their
lives, thinking of him as a cult leader.

Actually, the
more Mike thought about it, the more frighteningly possible it did
become.

'No,' he
muttered, arguing with himself. 'Pure fiction.'

'Sorry?'
Westwood said, giving Mike an odd look.

'Nothing, just
thinking aloud.’

'He does it a
lot,' Kristina snapped, walking in. 'So, can you tell us anything
before you take him away?'

'There’s one
thing I need to ask you.' Ignoring Kristina, she looked at
Mike.

'Go ahead.'

'Is this body
in the same position as you left it?'

Pretending not
to notice the scowl on Kristina’s face, Mike answered. 'Near
enough. He wasn’t going anywhere, and Shelly barely had the
strength in her to move.'

'Then I’m
pretty sure the murderer is left-handed.'

'You can tell
that? How?' Kristina asked.

'The angle that
the throats have been cut.' She used a slashing movement with her
right hand to demonstrate. 'A right-handed person would slash from
right to left, a left-handed person from left to right.'

'Tony is
right-handed,' Mike said quietly.

'Tony who?'
Westwood asked.

Before Mike
could answer, Kristina asked. 'Why would he slit him open like
that? I mean, he had to be in a hurry.'

Shrugging,
Westwood looked down at the body, before giving Kristina a quick
appraisal and saying, 'Heaven knows.'

'Because he’s
taking the piss. He knew Shelly had spilled her guts, and he in his
arrogance was going to spill hers. Only not enough time. But he’s
left her a warning.' Mike gritted his teeth as he took out his
mobile.

'Shit, no
reception in here. Kristina, phone from outside and get an armed
guard on Shelly, now.'

Nodding,
Kristina hurried outside.

'This bastard
thinks he’s invincible.' He looked at Westwood. 'Everything, I need
everything you can get me, the smallest detail. OK?'

Westwood
nodded. She pulled a white mask from her pocket. The smell in the
confined space was becoming unbearable. Before putting the mask on,
she said, 'I assure you, you will get everything I can possibly
come up with to catch this renegade.'

Kristina came
back in, and shot the pathologist an odd look, wondering at her
strange choice of word for the murderer.

Before she
could comment, Mike said, 'Come on, Kristina.' Turning, he left the
room.

'What’s up?'
she asked, catching up to him in the main corridor.

'I need to talk
to Dave.'

'You mean,
Brother David?'

Mike paused
slightly, a breath of a movement, that no one who didn’t know him
well would not have noticed. But Kristina knew that Mike had never
really accepted the fact that Dave had chosen the holy life.

They reached
the door where Brother David was being interviewed. Mike gave a
single knock, and opened the door when he heard someone say, 'Come
in.'

'Excuse me,' he
said to the officer, a pale-faced young man with a huge gap in his
front teeth. 'Can I have a few words?'

'Certainly,
sir.' The young officer nodded at Brother David, who looked up at
Mike, a question in his eyes.

'This Leader,
is he left-handed or right-handed?'

'Left-handed,'
Brother David replied without hesitation.

' Do any of his
followers look like him?'

Again Brother
David’s reply was quick. 'Actually, yes, and I know what you’re
thinking. Once or twice… certain mannerisms have seemed strange,
different, if you know what I mean. It wasn’t Tony, was it?' His
last words were said with relief. He had prayed over the dead body,
and could still see the horrific picture behind his eyes. He waited
anxiously for Mike to say something.

Before Mike
could reply, Kristina’s mobile rang. Fishing it out of her pocket,
she said, 'Hello.' She listened for a moment then, her face grim,
she switched it off. 'Mike, turn your phone on.'

Frowning, Mike
took his mobile out. Message after message from Smiler. 'Shit. What
the hell?' He listened to the latest frantic message.

Slowly he put
his phone away. Staring at Brother David, he said, 'Aunt May is in
Newcastle Hospital. She’s been hit on the head. It’s serious.'

When they got
to the hospital, Mike spotted Smiler smoking outside the gate.
Stopping the car, he jumped out. Kristina, climbing into the
driver's seat, said sarcastically, 'I’ll park it.'

As she drove
off, Brother David looked at Smiler, who was wiping his face, and
staring at Mike with undisguised relief. Mike had told him as much
as he knew about Smiler on the way over.

Mike held his
hand out for a cigarette. 'So what the hell happened?' He puffed
raggedly on the cigarette as Smiler told him how he and Tiny had
found Aunt May.

Five minutes
later, the four of them were around her bed.

Aunt May lay
unmoving, wired up to various machines. Mike was about to look for
a doctor, because Smiler had very little information as to her
condition, when the doctor in charge walked in,

Knowing what
questions would be asked, the doctor said, before any of them could
speak, 'I’m afraid she is in a coma.'

'No!' Brother
David said. Stepping closer, he took hold of her hand and began to
pray.

'She’s had a
massive trauma to the back of her head.'

'So when will
she…' Mike looked hopefully at the doctor.

'I’m sorry, I
really don’t know. It could be an hour from now, tomorrow,
or----'

'Never.' Mike
cut him off.

Kristina
gripped his arm. 'She’ll come through this, Mike, you know how
tough she is.'

'That’s always
a help in these cases,' the doctor said. 'And he’s got the right
idea.' He looked at Brother David, who was still praying.

Mike sighed,
and chewed the inside of his bottom lip. He wanted to cry like
everyone else, but tears would get him nowhere. He needed
action.

'You stay with
her, Dave.'

Brother David
nodded, and made the sign of the cross as he said, 'You do what you
have to do, Mike. I’ll be here waiting.'

Mike nodded at
him. For a moment, their eyes locked. Then Mike turned away. 'Come
with me,' he said to Kristina and Smiler.

An hour later,
they were on Holy Island, walking through the cemetery towards the
monastery. Smiler had been babbling the whole way here about the
Lindisfarne Gospels, how they had been dropped overboard into the
sea centuries ago, then found later completely intact. Knowing that
it was his way of dealing with things, Mike had let him get it
out.

Now, though, as
they reached the spot where Smiler had found her, Mike held his
hand up for Smiler to be quiet.

Silently, they
gazed down at the spot. Mike guessed rightly that the brown marks
trailing down the ancient walls were Aunt May’s blood. As he stared
at the bloodstains, he vowed to capture the bastards responsible,
no matter how long it took, or wherever it took him. He would
search every nook and cranny of the world until he had the weasels
in his hands. Then they would regret ever having been born.

'Someone’s been
digging here.' Kristina knelt down. 'It’s pretty deep. Wonder if
they found what they were looking for?'

Mike wasn’t
listening. He was watching another helicopter, only this one was
leaving the island from the field near to the castle. He watched
until it was a speck in the sky, and smaller than the birds that
had become airborne with it.

'Mike,'
Kristina said, as she rose and pointed at the hole. 'Look.'

Mike looked
down. He had seen the hole, but now that Kristina had moved and
wasn’t casting a shadow over it, he noticed a tiny glint of gold.
He picked it up, and sighed heavily. The gold was a small Celtic
cross. He, Tony and Dave had scraped together the cash that first
year at Aunt May’s by doing as many jobs as they could – running
errands for anyone, cleaning fish. Anything that they could do,
they did, and bought it for Christmas for her. She never took it
off.

Wrapping his
fist around the cross, he again vowed silently to hunt down whoever
was responsible for harming Aunt May, and God help the bastards
when he caught them. It was obvious that the freak who had taken
over the monastery was linked to this business.

And so was
Tony.

His first stop
was London, the first link was Tony. And he just better have the
right answers.