Henry thought numbly, And I told them to ram him off the road.
Shoot the one who’s standing up,’ Donaldson said to the marksman. ‘That’s Hinksman, I’m sure of it. One hundred per cent.’
‘ How do you know?’
‘ I know. Trust me. Shoot him.’
‘ No, I can’t,’ stuttered the marksman, cracking under the pressure of a real-life situation. ‘It wouldn’t be reasonable force. I’d have to justify it in court.’
‘ So? Fuck me! He’s pointing a gun at your colleague. Last time he did that he pulled the trigger and killed the poor son of a bitch. Now shoot him before he does it again.’
‘ No, I won’t.’
‘ What is it with you English cops, for Christ’s sake?’ Donaldson screamed through the torrential rain. ‘A pal of yours is being threatened by a maniac with a gun who’s killed before and you’re discussing what you might have to say in court. I don’t believe this! Just pull the fucking trigger.’
‘ No, I can’t. I couldn’t guarantee a hit at this range and in these conditions anyway.’
Donaldson looked down pityingly at the marksman and made a decision. ‘Sorry about this, pal,’ he sighed and looked at the point just behind the man’s right ear.
‘ In fact, I’ve changed my mind, Henry. I’m going to let you live. Killing’s too good for you. If I kill you, you’ll only suffer for a few more seconds and I’d rather you suffered for the rest of your life, knowing that the police killed the one you loved — after I’d raped her, that is. So stay where you are, Henry, and don’t come after me otherwise I will shoot you.’
He turned and began to walk across the mud towards the road. Henry felt for his gun under his anorak. As he drew it he rose to his feet. He pointed it at the back of Hinksman’s head, steadying it on the palm of his hand.
‘ Stop there. You’re under arrest again. Drop your weapon — NOW!’ Hinksman froze. Then turned slowly around, gun in hand. When he was half-facing Henry, a smile broke out under the facial mudpack.
‘ I should never have underestimated you,’ he admitted, shaking his head.
‘ No, you shouldn’t. You should’ve killed me when you had the opportunity, because I wouldn’t have ever given up on you. I’d have chased you to the end of the earth, and we’d have ended up in this position again.’
‘ I believe you, Henry.’
‘ Now drop the gun and put your hands up. As you can see, my gun isn’t shaking this time, and if you give me any cause whatsoever, I’ll shoot you dead and feel good about it.’
‘ Well, you’ve certainly got the drop on me this time.’ Hinksman’s gun came up quickly.
Henry was hoping it would. He was ready, didn’t hesitate. He fired a double tap. Bam-bam!
At the same time as his two bullets drilled into Hinksman’s neck and chest, the large-calibre bullet from the rifle entered his face just below his right eye, removing the whole of the back of his head.
It seemed a long time before the crack of the shot caught up with the bullet from across the river.
The Bucar was discovered at 9 a.m. two days later, parked on a grassy knoll alongside a lake near to the main entrance to Florida International University, about ten miles from downtown Miami.
A campus cop had driven slowly past it a couple of times on his rounds and eventually decided to ticket it for being illegally parked.
He strolled up to it, unfolding his ticket pad whilst whistling and chewing. He had almost completed writing the ticket before he actually glanced inside the vehicle. Something unusual caught his eye: a hand on the passenger seat. On closer inspection he saw that the hand was attached to the arm of a body which was doubled up into the front passenger footwell, as though neatly folded into place.
The cop stopped whistling, dropped his pad and his gum fell out of his mouth. Then he saw the other two bodies laid on top of each other behind the front seats.
He did what a good cop should have done: sealed the scene and called for backup — after he’d finished vomiting.
The first detective on the scene was Ram Chander.
He strolled up to the Bucar and looked inside at the three bodies. ‘I got a gut feeling about this one already,’ he admitted to the campus cop. ‘I bet we get nowhere with it.’
Epilogue
Amongst his many failings, Henry Christie acknowledged that his greatest was that he was not a romantic at heart. In all his married life he had never regularly bought flowers, gifts nor cards for Kate, other than at her birthday or Christmas. Valentine’s Day merely passed him by; their wedding anniversary was just another date on the calendar. He had expected her to take his love for granted and that, he now saw, was probably one of the many reasons why their marriage had run into difficulties.
Now he was making up for lost time.
Whilst Kate had been in hospital he had showered her with flowers, cards and gifts, and continually let her know what he felt about her.
She had spent four weeks in hospital, the first six days in intensive care with major, possibly life-threatening injuries.
On her discharge she’d spent further weeks convalescing at home in Henry’s care. He had taken special leave and with the assistance of Jenny and Leanne — whom he allowed to stay off school for the purpose — and a district nurse, Henry gentled her back to health.
When she was fit enough, he did what he thought was the most romantic thing he’d ever done — booked a second honeymoon and arranged for the kids to stay with their grandparents.
They watched the blazing sun disappear quickly into the Mediterranean. There was no moon, just blackness and a warm breeze. Both were dressed in shorts and T-shirts, nothing on their feet but the fine golden sand which filtered through their toes. They held hands.
The beach was deserted.
Henry felt euphorically happy.
They hadn’t said anything for a while, but it was a contented silence.
‘ That was a beautiful sunset,’ Kate said.
‘ I cannot disagree.’
She squeezed his hand. He bent over and kissed her briefly on the lips, but the brief kiss became a lingering, wet, exploring one, sending a charge of excitement through both of them. It was like their first real kiss.
When they broke apart, Henry said, ‘I love you.’
‘ Mmm,’ she murmured happily, a wide grin on her face.
They began to walk slowly down the beach towards the hotel.
‘ I don’t want this to end,’ she said. ‘It’s been lovely, but I do miss the girls.’
‘ Me too — on both counts.’
They walked a little further in silence.
‘ So, is it all over, Henry, this Corelli business?’
‘ For us, I hope so. Corelli’s still operating and I’ve no doubt he’ll team up with some other big-time British criminal to import drugs… but it’ll take some time, I expect. I think we put a pretty big dent in his operation when the Navy pulled that freighter in the Irish Sea… but, from our point of view, I think we’ve probably seen the last of him.’
‘ Good, I’m glad. It was his evil that cast a shadow on us all, wasn’t it?’
‘ Yeah… everything started with him.’
Kate interlocked her fingers into Henry’s.
‘ Kate, I thought I’d killed you. If you had died, it would’ve been my fault. You see, I told that personnel carrier to ram him.’
They had stopped and were facing each other, still holding hands. ‘You weren’t to know where I was,’ she said softly. ‘Don’t feel guilty. I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re back together and we’ve got a future… and that’s all that matters. Us and the girls.’
Henry looked sullenly at his feet as he poked around in the sand with his toes.
‘ What’s the problem?’ she asked.
‘ He told me everything he did to you. Everything.’
‘ Henry, he hasn’t done anything to me. He might have hurt me physically, but I detached myself from what he was doing. He might as well have done it to a piece of meat. He didn’t touch me here.’ She laid his hand over her heart. ‘Only you can touch me there.’