Siege

Twenty-one

17.05

TEN FLOORS ABOVE Fox and Elena, the man called Scope watched as police cars stopped on either side of the hotel, acting in unison as they blocked the traffic in both directions, creating a car-free zone right in front of the main entrance.

They were out of their vehicles in seconds, moving very fast for cops, who in Scope’s experience tended to amble everywhere unless they were slap bang in the middle of an emergency. These men were gesticulating and shouting orders, moving people away from the hotel, while at the same time putting out traffic cones and scene-of-crime tape. Another police car pulled up slightly behind the others, and three guys got out. They went round the back of the car and opened the boot, pulling out what looked like MP5 sub-machine guns. Proper firepower.

Something big was going on, and for a moment Scope thought it might have something to do with what he’d done here, except he was sure it couldn’t be. He’d worked efficiently and there’d been no noise. Mr Miller’s corner suite only backed on to one other room, and when he’d put his ear to the wall all he could hear was the sound of loud dance music.

No, whatever this was, it was way bigger than him. Already he could see more police cars, along with a fire engine and two ambulances, driving into Hyde Park and taking up position a hundred yards distant like some kind of wagon train, while in the sky overhead a helicopter with search beam made tight circles.

He wondered what the hell was happening. Up here on the top floor of the Stanhope you were above everything and insulated by silence. It was the perfect spot for his work. But the problem was, he had to get out, and soon. And with all these police around it wasn’t going to be easy.

He briefly inspected the wound on his left forearm, the result of a mistake that could have ended in disaster. He’d dressed it using the first aid kit from the bathroom, and added antiseptic, but the teeth marks were deep, and the blood was still staining the dressing a deep red. It might be even more serious if it turned out the guy responsible for it was HIV-positive, but right then he was more concerned about his blood leaving potentially incriminating DNA traces behind.

Turning away from the window, Scope returned to the bathroom and applied a roll of fresh dressing over the top of the first. There was a cut about an inch long just above his left eye, and although the plaster he’d covered it with was still sticking, the area around the edges was beginning to darken and swell. It looked conspicuous, and that was bad, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He took a deep breath, buttoned up his jacket so that it covered the telltale red flecks on his shirt, then walked back through the suite’s lounge, stepping round the bodies. Finally he removed the manager’s badge and left the room, slipping off his gloves as he started down the corridor.