Jones, the guy who’d been interrogating him, and I watched in silence as Melissa extracted her heel. She lifted her foot slowly. The guy’s head followed until it was raised an inch and a quarter off the floor. Then she gently shook her ankle. His eye socket held its grip for a moment, then gave a soft slurping sound, and his skull fell back down onto the polished wood.
“That’s good,” she said, staring directly at the guy next to Jones. “I’ve seen it where the whole eyeball comes out, skewered by your heel like a kebab. Then you’ve got to decide: waste time picking it off, and get your fingers all covered in ocular slime; or just move on to the next home-invading bastard with it still stuck in place?”
The guy took a step backwards.
“Stop,” she said. “Release my friend from the chair.”
The guy pulled a switchblade from his pocket, popped the blade, and cut the four plastic ties that had held Jones in place. He handed the knife to me, then Jones struggled to his feet and staggered away from the chair, ending up leaning against the wall to help keep himself upright.
“Now, sit in the chair, yourself,” Melissa said. “Then look around the room.”
The guy hesitantly complied, and I followed his gaze as he wrestled to keep it away from the four dead bodies that were still lying on the floor.
“I’m going to help my friend get cleaned up,” Melissa said. “We’ll be gone maybe five minutes. While we’re out of the room, I want you to think about your comrades. About what happened to them. And who did it. Then, when we come back in, I’m going to ask you some questions. You better be ready to answer them.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Melissa and Tim were actually out of the room for closer to fifteen minutes. When they reappeared Melissa had changed into jeans and a jumper, and Tim was looking decidedly healthier. The blood had been washed off his face, his skin had regained a little of its colour, and a couple of plasters had been stuck over the worst of his cuts.
“David,” Melissa said, when she caught sight of how pale the guy on the chair had become. “What happened to him?”
“Nothing,” I said. “We were just swapping stories, to pass the time. I told him about a guy I once knew, in Helsinki. He tried to hold out on some information a friend of mine wanted. Then he fell out of a window. His entrails covered a twenty-foot radius. Can you believe that? The mess he made? The local kids still love to play on the stains he left on the pavement, apparently.”
Melissa shrugged.
“These things happen,” she said. “Maybe I need to check my window locks?”
“Good home maintenance is important,” I said. “But in the meantime, this chap has some news to share with you about what he’s doing here tonight.”
The guy repeated to Melissa the story he’d just told me about how the two of them were the back up team for the guys who’d burst in on Jones and me, earlier. She asked the same questions that I had, about who they worked for. How they’d been recruited. How their instructions had been communicated. Where they were supposed to take us. How they’d been paid. And he gave her the same frustrating answers.
“It’s a pretty standard arms-length deal,” Melissa said. “Our people should be able to break into it. They’ll need a little while, obviously. But they won’t need this guy, if that’s all he knows. We’ve killed four of them, already. You might as well make it five, David. Go for a clean sweep. He’s of no further use to us.”
I raised my Beretta and lined it up on the bridge of the guy’s nose.
“No,” he said. “Wait. Please. I’ve got something else. A name. I heard our contact say a name. Once. He was finishing a phone call one time when we met him. I don’t think he knew I could hear what the person on the other end was saying. Parts of it, anyway.”
“And you’re telling me now,” Melissa said. “That doesn’t buy you many credibility points.”
“I get that. I know how this looks. But I’m telling the truth. Please don’t do anything... permanent to me.”
“Have you got any plans to share this name with me, any time in the near future?”
“Of course. But wait. How do I know you won’t kill me anyway?”
“David?” Melissa said. “Please shoot him.”
“Leckie,” he said. “Leckie was the name I heard.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Melissa said.
“It’s the truth,” the guy said. “He used it twice, so I’m totally sure.”
Jones made himself useful in the kitchen, brewing up some coffee, while I kept an eye on our one surviving prisoner. Melissa disappeared into a guest bedroom to make some calls. She was gone for a good twenty minutes, and when she reappeared I saw she’d put her coat back on. She was wearing shoes, too, but not the ones with the lethal heels.
“Are you sure you’re OK with this?” she said, taking Jones by both shoulders before he could retreat back to the kitchen with our empty mugs.
“Definitely,” he said. “Lightning never strikes twice. Did they give you an ETA for the cleaner?”
“He’s nearly here. Ten to fifteen minutes, tops.”
“I’ll be fine, then. Leave it to me. You two get on your way. I’ll catch you in the morning.”
“Call me if there are any problems,” Melissa said, taking me by the arm and steering me towards the door. “And not too early in the morning. You need rest. And you need to check in with the medics. I know your skull is made of concrete, but even so.”
“Don’t worry,” Jones said. “I’ll see them. And I’ll sleep as late as I can.”
“Tim?” I said, as Melissa disappeared into the corridor in front of me. “Keep a close eye on this guy. He seemed pretty depressed when I was talking to him, earlier. It would be terrible if his demons got the better of him and he, say, threw himself out of the window, like the guy in Finland...”
Melissa waited till she was sure the door had shut behind us before heading for the stairs.
“How are you feeling?” I said, falling into step beside her. “After what just happened?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It was hardly a unique experience.”
“I know. But in your own home? Are you going to be OK, going back there?”
Melissa shrugged.
“I suppose so,” she said. “The cleaner will get there soon - the real one - and he’ll do a good job, I’m sure. Still, I might give it a while, though.”
“That would be smart,” I said. “Have you got anywhere to go?”
“I do have friends, you know. And anyway, this is London. It’s not like there’s a shortage of hotels. But I’ll worry about that later. There are things I need to update you on first. Although, after what’s just happened, they’ll hardly qualify as breaking news.”
“That doesn’t matter. Tell me anyway.”
“I will. But I could use a drink. Do you fancy an adult beverage to go with the conversation?”
The OXO Tower has its own wine bar, so there was no need to go too far out of our way. The place was a mob scene by the time we got there. The customers were mainly men in suits and women in power dresses. Some sat in pairs, but most seemed to be part of larger groups. All the tables were taken, but the moment we walked in I saw three people gathering their coats together at the end of the main, horseshoe-shaped bar. It wasn’t a great spot for looking out over the river and the grand buildings beyond it, but it was ideal for not being overheard. We slipped in to their places as they were leaving, and before they were five yards away I saw one of the woman trip and turn her heel. The sole of her shoe was a vivid red.