Vicky’s hands came up to her face and she began to cry like a baby.
23
Hobart stood at the bedroom window of Stratton’s former Santa Monica apartment, looking down onto the alley where he could see a large scorch mark surrounding a sizeable scoop in the tarmac. During the immediate follow-up investigation the police had found the apartment manager beaten and tied up in his room. When they took the tape from his mouth he immediately started ranting about how two men had arrived in the early evening, enquiring about accommodation. Then they’d suddenly taken him at gun-point to his room and asked about an Englishman named Stratton. As soon as he had provided a key to the apartment they’d tied him up.
When Stratton’s name hit the police communications network it was automatically filtered out to Hobart’s department as per his request. The occupants of the blown-up sedan had been identified as Chicago hoods and Hobart surmised that Skender had found the identity of Leka and Ardian’s killer and attempted his own revenge.
Hobart was impressed as well as disturbed with the Albanians’ intelligence-acquisition network that had located Stratton quicker than the FBI had been able to. Skender had obviously brought in outside hitters to cover his involvement but Hobart wondered if the man knew precisely who he was up against. This Stratton guy was obviously skilled, judging by the hits in the court cells and the restaurant, but this counter-hit, whatever it was that he had done exactly, displayed an alertness and initiative under pressure that were, frankly, outstanding. The Chicago goons had obviously come for Stratton and somehow he had turned the tables on them.
One thing that continued to niggle Hobart was Skender’s reasoning behind this attempt on Stratton. Hobart was well aware of the Albanian propensity for revenge but Ardian and Leka were not related to Skender. On top of that Skender must have been angry with the two idiots for stepping out of line in the first place. Going one step further, Skender might even have appreciated Stratton taking revenge for Sally’s murder although that was a speculation beyond Hobart’s knowledge of Albanian redemption protocol. Hobart found it too hard to accept that Skender would risk his special relationship with the Feds for those two idiots. If he was forced to, he would have to put it down simply to the arrogance of the man.
Whatever the answer, Hobart was now faced with a double duty: to find Stratton to protect him from the Albanians – and them from him.
An FBI forensics officer stepped into the room. He was wearing a thin pair of rubber gloves. ‘Okay to do in here now, sir?’
Hobart walked out of the bedroom. He paused in the living room where another forensics officer was at work, brushing the dust off the small dining table and sweeping it into a plastic bag.
Hobart was standing in the apartment’s main doorway when the elevator doors opened. He looked up to see Hendrickson step out and walk down the corridor towards him.
‘Sir,’ Hendrickson said before he reached the door. Hobart could tell from his pensive look that the young man had something urgent to reveal.
Hobart wore his usual dry expression as he walked out into the corridor and waited for his eager young assistant.
‘Sir. Sally Penton had a son. He was with her when she was killed.’
Hobart flashed him an angry look. ‘You’re telling me this now?’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I didn’t see the relevance of it at the time.’
‘Relevance? Stratton killed the boy’s mother’s killers. The son was nothing but relevant!’ Hobart exclaimed.
‘I was on my way over to the child-protection centre today to interview him and—’
‘Don’t tell me. Stratton’s taken him,’ Hobart said, reckoning immediately that Stratton would want to protect the boy from Skender.
‘I don’t think so, sir. Stratton’s working alone here – at least, we think he is. The kid was abducted by two men this morning, neither of whom matched Stratton’s description. In fact, a witness who was beaten by the men knew Stratton and swears that neither was him.’
Hobart flashed Hendrickson another look as a new set of implications pelted his brain.
‘Stratton’s been in contact with the kid nearly every day since he’s been in LA,’ Hendrickson went on. ‘The boy was due to fly out of here in a couple days back to the UK.’
Hobart looked out of the window at the clear blue sea beyond the palm trees. But he saw only his thoughts. ‘So, what do you deduce from all of this, Hendrickson?’
‘Deduce, sir?’
‘Yes. To deduce. To draw a logical conclusion from something already known or assumed by a process of reasoning. It’s what we’re supposed to do for a living, goddamn it.’
‘Well … Skender’s people killed Stratton’s best friend’s wife—’
‘What?’ Hobart interrupted.
‘Yes, sir,’ Hendrickson said, feeling like a schoolboy who had forgotten to hand in his homework. ‘I only found that out from our people in London before I left the office this morning. Stratton is or was in Brit special forces.’
‘Wait up a minute,’ Hobart interrupted again. ‘Stratton’s a civilian now?’
‘No, sir. He works for the British government, that’s a certainty. It’s just that it’s unclear who he belongs to, the SBS – Special Boat Service – or SIS. Jack Penton was also in the SBS – they’re like the SAS but they also do seaborne operations. Penton and Stratton were on an op together in Iraq a month ago when Penton was killed. Stratton is also Josh’s godfather, Josh being the kid’s name. But Stratton isn’t on the special forces books, like he’s been moved. All enquiries to the SBS about him are deferred to the Brits’ Ministry of Defence. That’s why it’s been difficult to get anything on him.’
Hobart readjusted his thoughts. ‘Go on with your deduction.’
‘Okay,’ Hendrickson said, looking into space as if this was a quiz. ‘So … Stratton revenged Sally Penton’s murder because of his relationship with the family. One of Skender’s people then decided to avenge the deaths of Bufi and Cano—’
‘Why’d you say one of Skender’s people and not Skender himself ?’ Hobart interrupted again.
‘Because Skender’s not related to either of the men. He himself should have had them punished but he didn’t for some reason. I think Skender is less of an Albanian today than he was before he came here. He wants to stay in the States so he’s trying to adapt his m.o.’
Hobart nodded. Hendrickson’s reasoning was crude but interesting. Hobart himself hadn’t gone so far as to suspect someone else in Skender’s organisation but it was undeniably worth considering. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Well, maybe Skender but most likely someone else orders a hit on Stratton which backfires and so the kid is abducted.’
Hendrickson stopped there and Hobart looked up to see he was not about to continue. ‘Why?’
‘To get at Stratton, swap him maybe, I don’t know. I doubt whether the kid will survive those guys.’
‘And the possible repercussions? What now?’
‘Now … now I think the faecal matter could hit the air-oscillator. This Stratton guy is no pushover. He’s showed that he’s capable of taking on Skender’s people and winning. But not like the David and Goliath concept. More like a small guerrilla group taking on a professional army. He has advantages in being alone and being able to move freely. I don’t know what his skills are other than explosives but the guy kicks ass. The score is five to one if you count the kid. I think Stratton’s gonna go for them.’
Hobart found himself broadly agreeing. ‘So what do we do now?’