Dead or Alive (32 page)

‘He bets on horses, nothing more.'

Cope had heard rumours of the superintendent's gambling, but Sep's knowledge ran to a lot more than rumours. This gave him an advantage.

‘Five years ago he nearly lost his house and his job in a wee game of poker. It was Formosa who bailed him out. He's been in Formosa's pocket ever since. You, Mr Cope are nothing te Formosa. He gave ye a try and ye've been a waste of his money.'

The gambling story was true. The Formosa connection wasn't, but it was too much of a possibility for Cope just to discount. He took a nervous sip of his drink as he pondered what had been said.

‘Why are you telling me all this?'

‘I'm tellin' ye because it's true, and I'm tellin' ye because if ye come in wi' me, it could be te the advantage of both of us.'

‘What advantage?'

‘What's he do with all his bodies?' Sep asked this question very quickly, as a quick question often prompts an instinctive but careless answer, as it did this time.

‘He puts them in a furnace … shit!'

Sep smiled at him through his whiskers. In those few words Cope had given himself away. The policeman closed his eyes in anger at himself, then he thought for a moment and said. ‘OK, you got me there, but why should I believe anything you say?'

‘Because the bits yer know about, ye know to be true. The only things yer doubtful about are the things ye don't know about. Me? I know about everything. As far as Formosa's concerned yer a dead man walking, Mr Cope. If I get up from here and leave ye to it, and ye go back te Formosa without me, I'll guarantee ye'll be dead within a minute ye walk through the door, and burning away in the furnace five minutes after that.'

At that point Sep turned off his Scottish accent and spoke with his own voice. ‘As for me I'll shave off my beard and try another way to set the kids free.'

Cope stared at him, trying to place the new voice. ‘Have I met you before all this?'

‘Yes, you met me in my house. My name is Septimus Black.'

Cope stared at him. ‘Bollocks!' he said.

‘True,' said Sep. ‘You helped lose me my job and lived with my wife for a while until we set you up for her to see what a low-life you really were.'

‘Really? Then I can assume you're not here to help me.'

‘You can assume that I'm not interested in you. Your punishment awaits you. The only thing you have to decide is how severely you're punished. It will range from dismissal from the force without pension, to a long prison sentence.'

Cope went quiet, absorbing the shock of what he was hearing. There was just too much truth in it for him to dismiss it lightly.

‘How come you've got so much influence?' he asked at length.

‘Because on the day I was supposed to leave the force to save myself from being punished for killing Johnstone and attacking my wife, I was approached by a covert unit of the West Yorkshire Police Force who have been watching you from the minute you moved up here from the Smoke. They believed my story of being set up for everything and they agreed with my opinion that it was you who set me up. They were briefed by the Met about you being investigated for corruption and saw an opportunity to use you to bring Formosa down. As much as they hate bent cops, they hate the Formosas of this world a lot more.'

Sep had crafted this story very carefully in readiness for such a showdown with Cope. As far as he knew it was flawless. Cope would already know that the Met had been looking at him and he would now know that he was still within their grasp. Sep's story about working for them was also plausible as the Met knew Cope had certain skills in influencing people's opinions – it was the Met who had trained him in this. All Sep knew about him was what he'd learned from his friend down there, but Sep knew how to make a little knowledge go a long way.

‘I just asked you how come you've got such influence,' said Cope. ‘I'll ask you another question. If I've done all this to you, why would you do me any favours?'

‘
I'm
not doing you any favours. This offer comes from the Met, via West Yorkshire Police. I've been instructed to make you take that offer. It was my phone conversation with them that made me late. Ibbotson won't be so fortunate. They're aware of your dealings with Formosa and those of Ibbotson. I answer to a much higher police authority than Ibbotson. So far we've had to tread very carefully, with the lives of the children being at stake but now it's crunch time. The only question that matters is, do you know where the children are?'

‘No, I don't.'

‘If you did, both our lives would be a lot easier, so I'll ask you one last time, ‘Do you know where they are?'

‘No, I don't. Never have.'

‘Next question then, are you with us or with Formosa? Please bear in mind that Formosa is planning to kill you, and our plan keeps you alive. I've already saved Manson's life by telling him to clear off before Formosa gets to him. I think you know this to be true.'

Cope did indeed know it was true that Manson had cleared off. He also knew that Formosa wanted Manson “eliminated”.

‘Mr Cope, answer me this: How do you think I know about Sharky and Spud killing Dench, who was killed for grassing Formosa up to you? And how do you think I know that Sharky and Spud are both dead on Formosa's orders?'

Cope shook his head in despair, indicating that he had no idea how Sep had got hold of this impossible information. Sep pressed home his advantage with another credible lie. ‘We have Manson in a safe house. We can do the same for you if you cooperate fully.'

A defeated Cope looked up at Sep and asked him. ‘OK, what do you want me to do?'

T
he children lay on the cold floor in complete darkness in the room next to the one they'd been previously kept in. Milly had been crying ever since she found out they'd been captured again. James was inwardly cursing the man in the house who had sworn at them. If ever they got out, he'd report that man to the police. Their plight now seemed worse than ever. They had angered their captors who, up until their attempted escape, hadn't mistreated them. That had all changed. They had been roughly manhandled from the car, dragged down the cellar steps and thrown into this pitch-black cellar with nothing to lie on and nothing to keep them warm. Their coats were still in the cellar next door.

‘My leg hurts, James. It's bleeding, I can feel it.'

‘The bleeding will stop, Milly. I've got a few cuts and bruises myself.'

‘I feel really poorly.'

‘Yeah, so do I. It's this rubbish food they give us. When we get home Mum'll feed us up.'

‘I don't like what that man was saying, James. He was talking about coming back and killing us.'

‘I know. I heard him but it was just to make us behave, like when he threatened us in the car with his gun.'

James wasn't at all sure this was true. The man had said he was going back to contact his boss and find out what to do with them and that the odds were that his boss would tell him to kill them both to save a lot of trouble, and that they could still get the ransom money even if they were dead. It all seemed to make sense to James, but he didn't tell Milly.

‘What if he comes back to kill us, James?'

‘He won't, Milly.'

‘Promise?'

‘I promise.'

They now heard loud voices from above. ‘I bet it's that man he was talking to on the phone,' said Milly.

‘Could be,' said James, trying to listen. But, although the voices were loud, they were indistinct. It could be that they were arguing about the children escaping and whose fault was that. Then the main cellar door opened, heavy feet clattered down the stone steps and a loud, angry voice was shouting.

‘James, it's him!' screamed Milly.

‘I know. I can hear him.'

A shot rang out, then another.

‘He's mad! He's coming to kill us!'

Milly was screaming with fear. James felt like screaming himself but, in the inky blackness of their prison, he just held on to his sister to offer what comfort he could in their final moments. He began to say the Lord's Prayer. Milly joined in. Both of them praying with eyes tightly shut and streaming tears as the door was kicked open.

James briefly opened his eyes and blinked away the mist of his tears to see a man silhouetted against the light from the passageway behind him. James recognised the silhouette as that of the man who had manhandled them earlier. He knew the man hadn't come to manhandle them this time. This time the man was holding a large gun; this time he'd come to kill them, no doubt about that. James now closed his eyes again as he didn't want to see any more of this horror that was about to befall them both. Milly's eyes remained firmly shut. They clung to each other, praying more quickly now as they wanted to finish their prayer before this man killed them.

F
ormosa looked up as Cope came through the door with a man who had to be Jimmy Lennon. Opposite him were two chairs. He signalled his two visitors to sit in them. Cope sat down, but Sep just stood there.

‘Do you have a problem, Mr Lennon?' asked Formosa.

‘I do,' said Sep, but not in his Scottish accent. He took a handgun from his pocket and pointed it at Formosa. ‘My problem is you.'

Formosa wasn't fazed by the gun. He had one of his own in an open drawer in front of him. Sep kept his gun trained on Formosa's face as he rounded the desk, kicked the drawer shut with the underside of his foot and spat out a harsh order.

‘Get up, Formosa, you piece of shit!'

Suitably intimidated, Formosa got to his feet.

‘Now walk around the desk and sit next to that crooked cop.'

Formosa complied. Sep sat in the chair Formosa just vacated, with his forearm resting on the desk and the gun pointing at Formosa's face.

‘He was expecting my call, Vince,' said Cope.

‘What I wasn't expecting,' said Sep to Formosa, ‘was to hear from the crooked cop that he was going to pay me money in one hour. Took me by surprise that. So much so that I rang up Manson's, only to find him gone and his girl wondering why so many people were interested in him and the visitor he had yesterday.'

‘Who are you?' asked Formosa, belligerently. ‘You do know I have men in this building who will come running if they hear a shot they're not expecting.'

‘I know there is no one in this building but the three of us,' said Sep. ‘Now I want you to tell me where the children are or I will shoot you.'

‘You won't shoot me,' sneered Formosa.

‘I will, actually,' said Sep, ‘but it might not be necessary if the crooked cop gives me the right answer.'

‘I don't know where they are,' said Cope.

‘Cope,' said Sep, ‘I figure you to be number two in this organization which means you must know where they are. I'm going to count down from three and put a bullet in your heart if you don't tell me before then.'

He took careful aim at Cope's heart and counted. Formosa maintained his sneer. ‘Three … two … one …'

Sep pulled the trigger. Bang! Blood spurted from Cope's chest as both he and his chair fell backwards to the floor. Formosa looked down at him and at the blood staining his shirt, then back at this lunatic who had shot him dead so casually.

‘Well, he's dead,' said Sep, with an air of casual indifference that unnerved Formosa. ‘Just you left. I assume I can stick him in your furnace.'

The gang boss was sweating now and wondering how the hell this madman knew about his furnace.

‘Out of interest, how many bodies have you burned in your furnace?'

‘A lot.'

‘Thought so. OK, Mr Formosa, where are the children?'

‘If I tell you, how do I know you won't shoot me?' said Formosa.

‘Because Cope did me a lot of personal damage, but I have no such problem with you. You are just a means to an end.'

‘I'm guessing you're working for Strathmore not the police,' said Formosa.

‘Of course I am. Your man Cope did me too much damage with the police, no doubt with your help. I was always going to kill him.'

‘Who exactly are you?'

‘My name is Septimus Black.'

‘Ah, the disgraced copper who beats up his wife.'

‘I was kicked off the force for killing a paedophile who died from an epileptic fit, but your man blackened my name too much for me to keep my job, especially after he beat up my wife and got her to say it was me. Was that your idea as well?'

‘No, that was all his own idea. So, how do you want to play this?'

‘All I want is the reward money for the kids. If I get the kids you get your life, simple as that. If the kids are dead, so are you. So there's no point lying to me, you'll only prolong the agony. If they're dead tell me and I'll pull this trigger, stick you in your furnace too, job done. I'll be happy just having dealt with Cope.' He aimed the gun at Formosa's forehead, as if in readiness to shoot.

‘I'm not waiting all day,' he said, harshly. Sep allowed his finger to tighten on the trigger just enough for Formosa to notice it.

‘They're alive,' said Formosa, quickly.

‘You don't sound too sure.'

Sep tried to detect a lie in this man's eyes and he saw nothing. He remembered Winnie's description of him. “Eyes like a shithouse rat”.

‘They were alive the last time I saw them. Who knows what stupid men will do behind my back?'

‘How far away?'

‘Ten minutes in a car.'

‘That might be how long you have to live if you're telling me a lie.'

‘How do I know you won't kill me anyway?'

Sep laughed. ‘Put it this way. You've got more chance of living than those kids ever had. Even if the ransom had been paid, you'd have killed them.' He fired a shot that almost took off Formosa's left ear before burying itself deep in the door.