Sanctus

Chapter 114

In the deepening night a van pulled to a halt next to one of the silent warehouses, a few buildings short of the one with the cargo plane parked out front. Johann killed the engine. Cornelius looked out of his window towards the unmarked police car and the hangar beyond, its door slightly open, lights burning inside. Kutlar said nothing. He kept his head down, studying the two arrows on the screen of the notebook, one pointing at Cornelius’s phone, the other at the last recorded signal from Kathryn Mann’s. They were almost overlapping.

A soft buzz sounded in Cornelius’s pocket and he drew out his phone. Opened a text message. Frowned. Showed it to Johann, who glanced at Cornelius then nodded. He opened his door and slipped into the night, taking the keys with him. Kutlar felt the van rock gently as the rear door opened and he heard the muffled sounds of things being moved around in the back. The morphine had started to wear off on the drive to the airport and he could now feel the pain steadily bubbling up inside his ruined leg. The walk up the steep cobbled streets of the old town had ripped apart most of his internal stitching and he felt that the dressings and his trouser leg were now the only things holding it together. He’d tried to hide it from the others by folding his jacket on his lap, but he could still smell the blood, tainting the air with its rusty tang.

The van rocked again as the back door closed and a few seconds later Johann reappeared, ambling slowly across the tarmac towards the cargo plane, his red windcheater pulled tight around him, a canvas bag slung loosely over his shoulder. In the gloom he looked like a member of the ground crew doing the evening rounds.

Liv was still staring at Arkadian when the phone finally picked up. She could hear babies crying in the background.

‘Bonnie?’ she said.

‘He killed Myron,’ Bonnie said, her voice ragged and dry. ‘He shot him.’

‘Who shot him? Where is he now?’

‘In the hallway. He ain’t gonna hurt my babies now.’

Liv glanced up at Arkadian, his eyes still on her, his gun still pointing at Gabriel.

‘Listen, Bonnie,’ she said, ‘I need you to get the kids and get out of there, OK? I want you to call someone at the station, someone you trust, and get them to put you and your family in a safe house, somewhere no one can find you. Will you do that for me, honey?’

‘No one’s going to hurt my babies,’ the ravaged voice repeated down the line.

‘That’s right, Bonnie. You call the station right now, OK?’ She looked back at Arkadian, wishing she could ring the station herself, knowing she couldn’t push her luck.

The muffled sound of the furious babies rose like the howl of the damned through the crackle of the transatlantic line. She thought of them growing up, never knowing their daddy, all because of a phone call — all because of her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered into the phone. Then she placed the receiver back in its cradle to cut off the sound of the crying.