Nightmare

66

Nightingale parked outside Jenny’s house. He climbed out of the MGB and pressed the buzzer on the intercom. There was a chill in the air and his breath feathered around his mouth as he stamped his feet to warm them up. He pressed the buzzer a second time. He stood back and looked up at the upper windows of the mews house. There was a light on in the front bedroom. He reached out to knock on the door but realised that it was ajar. He pushed it open. The light was on in the kitchen at the end of the hallway. Nightingale looked back at the MGB. He’d left the gun in the glove compartment because he knew that if Jenny saw it she wouldn’t be happy.

‘Jack, is that you?’

Nightingale peered down the hallway. ‘Jenny? The door’s open.’ There was no answer. ‘Jenny, are you okay?’

‘I’m in the kitchen.’

Nightingale stepped inside the hall and closed the door. ‘How are you feeling?’ he called. There was still no answer. ‘Jenny?’

He heard what sounded like a sob and he hurried down the hallway. She was sitting at the kitchen table wearing her pink bathrobe. He walked towards her.

‘Jenny?’ he said.

She was trembling and then she looked to her left and Marcus Fairchild stepped from behind the kitchen door. He was holding a carving knife.

Nightingale froze.

‘Don’t be shy, Jack,’ said Fairchild. ‘Come and join us.’

Nightingale took out his mobile phone.

‘Don’t even think about making a call,’ said Fairchild, walking behind Jenny and thrusting the knife against her neck. He grabbed her hair with his left hand and pulled her head back, exposing her neck.

‘There’s no need for that, Marcus,’ said Nightingale. He put the phone away and raised his hands. ‘We can sort this out. There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.’

Fairchild laughed harshly. ‘You think you can negotiate with me, Jack? Big mistake.’ He pressed the knife harder against Jenny’s throat. Jenny stared at Nightingale, her eyes wide with fear but she didn’t put up any resistance.

‘What is it you want, Marcus? The books? You can have the books. All of them. Just leave Jenny alone.’

‘This isn’t about the books, Jack. It’s not about Jenny either.’

‘What, then? What’s the point of all this?’

Fairchild laughed again. ‘Don’t you get it, Jack? You’re the point. It always has been you.’

Nightingale started to walk towards the kitchen, keeping his hands up. ‘We can sort this out, Marcus. It doesn’t have to end badly.’

As he passed the door that led to the garage, it opened. Nightingale began to turn but he stopped when something hard pressed against the small of his back. It was the barrel of a gun. The gun was being held by a short man with rat-like eyes and a receding chin. His hair was slicked back with oil that glistened in the overhead lights.

‘Just keep walking, nice and slowly,’ said Marcus. ‘It’ll soon be over.’