The Death List

28

I drove back to the house in Blackheath. There was no point in calling ahead about the name we’d found as we were so close. As soon as we got there, Peter Satterthwaite rang his computer expert while Rog checked for Lawrence Montgomery in the online directories and search engines. Andy went off to the kitchen to make more food-even what he’d seen in the flat hadn’t put him off eating. I called my mother. Again, there was no answer. Now I was getting seriously worried about her. I told the others.

“Why don’t you let the police know?” Rog said. “It can’t do any harm.”

That made sense. I left the house and went out onto the Heath to avoid being located at Bonehead’s, then rang Karen Oaten’s mobile.

“Matt!” she said eagerly when she heard my voice. “I’m very glad you called. Where can I meet you?”

“I’m not coming in.”

“You have to. It’s the only way you can clear your name.”

“What do you care about that? You’re the one who made me public enemy number one.”

She sighed. “I had no option. You’re on the university’s CCTV recording. Answer this question. Did you have anything to do with Lizzie Everhead’s murder?”

“No, of course I fucking didn’t!” I shouted, unable to control my outrage. “I told you, I’m trying to protect the people I care about.”

There was a pause. “You can’t tell me you cared about Dr. Everhead. Why did you go to see her? I presume you don’t deny that’s why you were in the building.”

“No, I don’t. I went to ask her about the Devil’s use of the quotations from the play. And to warn her about him.” I decided to play hardball. “Obviously that never occurred to you. Where was her police protection?”

There was a longer pause. “All right, Matt, I hear you. But I still need you to surrender yourself.”

“Forget it.”

“In that case, why are we talking?”

“Because my mother’s not answering her mobile phone again. Can you find out from the airlines apart from British Airways if she left the country from Heathrow on Friday?”

“You mean you’ve already checked with BA? They don’t give out that kind of information to the general public.”

“Just take my word for it. If she’s not on any flight list, then I think the Devil’s got her.”

I heard her breath whistle between her teeth. “All right, we’ll look into it. At least give me a number to call you.”

“Good try, Karen. I’ll call you. Bye.” I hung up. Jesus. Did the bastard really have my mother? The full horror of that idea struck me as I walked back across the open grassland in the darkness, the wind whipping about me like a mad dog. When would there be an end to the anguish the Devil was visiting on me?

When I got back, Pete yelled at me to join them in the study.

“Progress,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “I just heard from my man. Lawrence Montgomery is the name of the holder of the accounts I tracked down before. Don’t ask me how he did it, but he managed to verify that.”

I nodded, not particularly impressed. “Where does that get us?”

“It gets us precisely here,” Rog said, swinging round in his chair. He held up a printed page. “Properties listed in Lawrence Montgomery’s name. All of them in London and the Southeast.”

“Wow.” That was interesting. I ran my eye down the page. “Bloody hell, how many are there?”

“Twenty-three apart from the one you’ve already been to,” Rog replied. “Everything from a semi in Golders Green, to a penthouse near Tower Bridge, to a cottage near Hythe. Some of them are registered as owner-occupied, some as rented out.”

“How the hell are we going to be able to check all those places?” I said with a groan.

“You could give the list to the cops,” Bonehead suggested.

“What if the Devil’s got my mother at one of the houses?” I said, slamming my hand on the desk. “What if he or one of his sidekicks kills her the second the law shows up?”

“The same thing could happen if we show up,” Rog pointed out.

“That’s why we have to be careful. Ultracareful.”

Andy appeared in the doorway. “Chow time. I’ve made chili.”

We went through. I didn’t think I’d be able to get anything down, but Andy was a good cook and I suddenly discovered I had an appetite. When everyone had finished, Andy having scraped the bowl and licked the wooden spoon, I sent Dave a text message. He replied saying that all was okay. At least Lucy was secure.

“What are we going to do, then?” Andy asked, putting down the spoon at last.

“It’s time we took the game to this tosser.”

“Easier said than done,” I said, suddenly remembering the notes that the Devil had sent me about Lizzie Everhead’s death. He’d be expecting another chapter, but I wasn’t going to play according to his rules anymore. I went through to the study and logged on to my e-mail server. As I’d expected, there was a new message from him, with yet another identity, this time WD999. No doubt he thought using the emergency number was very funny.

Matt, Matt, I read. You’ve been a bad boy. Who gave you permission to break into Flat 12 in the Vestine Building? That was really dumb. I hope you liked my collection of humans and fauna. Tonight I’m going to make you pay for your nosiness. People you love are going to die in agony, Matt, and all because you thought you could take me on. Do you remember what John Webster wrote? “As in this world there are degrees of evils, So in this world there are degrees of devils.” I’m the worst kind, as you’re about to find out.

“Shit,” Bonehead said, reading over my shoulder. “What’s the bastard up to?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’ve got to work that out fast. I’ll have to risk using someone’s mobile from here.” He gave me his, a small silver device. I rang my ex-wife’s number. To my relief, she picked up immediately.

“It’s me,” I said.

“Matt!” she said, as if the word was a deadly insult. Obviously the Devil hadn’t got to Caroline. “Where’s Lucy, you…you criminal?”

“She’s safe. Are the police still watching you?”

“Yes. What do you mean, she’s safe? Don’t you understand? I can’t trust you. Your face is all over the news bulletins, you’re a wanted man. I have to see Lucy, I have to-”

“You’ll see her soon,” I said gently, then rang off. I wished I could have done more to comfort her, but I knew she wouldn’t listen. I’d been the enemy for years and now she had official confirmation of that.

The guys looked at me awkwardly.

“All right, say something!” I shouted.

Before they could, my new mobile rang. Very few people had that number.

“Hello.”

“Oh, Matt, it’s Sara.” She was breathless. “You’ve got to help me, there’s a man…he’s been following me…oh, God, I’m frightened…I think it might be-”

“Where are you?”

“Um…near the office, at the meat market, oh shit, he’s right behind-”

“Sara?” I tried to make out what was going on. I heard her shout and then scream. Not long after that, the line went dead.

“Jesus,” I said, staring at the others. “He’s got Sara.” I told them what I’d heard.

“I can drive up there,” Bonehead suggested.

“What the point?” I replied. “They’ll be long gone. This is what the Devil meant about making me pay. Christ, Sara…” I buried my head in my hands.

“What about telling the police now?” Rog said.

“How will they find Sara without putting her life in danger?” I said, looking up. “We’ve got the list of the Devil’s properties. It’s down to us.” All three of them nodded. “We’ll divide up the areas and each check out some properties. I’ll get Dave to come up, as well. That makes five of us. Four or five places each. All we’re doing at this stage is seeing if anyone’s there. If there are lights on, check for movement. Ring the bell and ask for directions. See who answers. Keep in touch by mobile. Andy, you and I will have to use our disguises again.”

“Oh, great,” the American said. “I really like having a slug on my upper lip.”

I called Dave from Peter’s landline.

“Sorry, Psycho,” I said. “I need you up here after all. How’s Luce?”

“Bit down in the dumps. You’d better talk to her. Ginny’s made sure she hasn’t seen your ugly mug on the news.”

I waited as he called her.

“Is that you, Daddy?” she said, her voice making me tremble.

“Hello, darling.” I tried to make my voice sound normal. “Are you having a good time?”

“Ye-es,” she said doubtfully. “Why aren’t we at school?”

“Extra holidays. Isn’t that good?”

“Ye-es. When am I going to see you and Mummy?”

“Very soon, sweet pie. In the meantime, have fun with the kids. Are they being good to you?”

She went into a lengthy description of the games they’d been playing. I finally managed to get her off the line. At least she was happy in her own little world. The idea of her finding out that I was a wanted man was repellent. I asked Dave if he was anywhere near Hythe. He said he wasn’t far off, so I gave him the address of the cottage to check out. After that, he’d be given his next destinations by Bonehead, who was going to act as coordinator.

“Right, let’s plot the properties on a map and work out who goes where,” I said, turning to find the other three already doing that. It didn’t take long. There were five places in the area of Camden. Andy took those because he could do them by Tube and bus. Rog took five to the north and west of that. Pete was going to do four south of the river. That left five to the north and south of the City for me, and three more for Dave to the southeast of the center.

“Listen, guys,” I said, when we all had maps and annotated copies of the list. “What you’re doing is way beyond the call of friendship. If you want to-”

“Forget it, man,” Andy said. “We’re all in this because we want to help you out.”

The others nodded firmly.

“All right, all right,” I said, raising my arms in surrender. “Pete, you’re in charge of stores.”

“Lucky I have such a well-stocked toolbox, eh?” he said, grinning lewdly as he handed screwdrivers, torches and chisels to everyone.

We headed for the door. I was going to take the BMW and drop Andy and Rog on their way north. Pete was going south in the Jeep. The three of us waved him away.

Then we drove into the pounding heart of the city, each of us sunk in his thoughts. Mine were full of a burning desire for vengeance on the Devil, who looked to have taken my mother and my lover.

I remembered another line from Webster’s play-“To fashion my revenge more seriously.”

That was what I had to if I was going to save Sara.

Karen Oaten was standing next to the array of human and animal corpses in Flat 12 of the Vestine Building in Bermondsey.

“It’s them,” John Turner said, coming into the room. “Wells and Jackson. They’re wearing disguises, but the CCTV shots are clear enough. I’m sure of it.”

His superior nodded. “The question is, what were they doing here?”

“Maybe they had some other dead body to get rid of.”

Oaten frowned. “And how did they do that, Taff? They didn’t carry it out, did they?”

“No,” he admitted. “But they took a letter from the post box.”

“Has it occurred to you that they’re doing exactly the same as we are?” she said, giving him a piercing look. “Trying to find the Devil.”

Turner looked perplexed. “How did they know to come here?”

“Christ knows. Maybe they’ve got a friend who’s a computer expert.”

The Welshman turned pages in his notebook. “Bloody hell, you’re right. This Roger van Zandt guy, one of the pair we can’t locate. He runs his own computing consultancy.”

“There you are, then. They’re several steps ahead of us.” She pressed buttons on her phone. “Paul, any news on Matt Wells’s mother?” She listened. “Nothing yet? All right, get them to keep checking.”

Turner moved closer. “What’s that going to tell us?”

“Whether the Devil’s got his next victim.” She walked out of the stinking room where the murderer had honed his skills. Dr. Redrose had confirmed that the human remains were months, even years old.

“And what if it was Wells all along, taking the piss out of us?”

“Then I’ll buy you a very large drink, Taff.” She turned back to him. “And you’ll buy me one if I’m right.”

He shrugged and followed her out. The fact was, they were playing catch-up and they knew it. Until the Devil-whether he was Wells or not-struck again, the Met’s finest were nowhere. Civilian staff were trying to find out who owned the flat, but he had the feeling they wouldn’t get on the killer’s trail that way.

Christ, he wished his boss hadn’t mentioned drink. He could have done with numerous pints of Brains, his favorite Welsh beer.

I got out of the BMW in Evelyn Street in Deptford, having dropped the others off at the station. The first property on my list was in Benbow Lane, a few minutes’ walk away. As I turned into the street, I realized it was classic criminal territory-a derelict factory on one side and a row of extremely suspicious-looking lockup garages on the other. Almost all had reinforced doors and heavy padlocks. Number 35 was even better protected than most, with a steel roll-down door over the original wooden one. Not even Andy at his most creative could have found his way through that. I stepped back and saw that there was a small window in the roof. No light shone through it.

I was about to mark the place off with a cross on my list when I saw a ladder lying on the ground a few doors down. A length of guttering was next to it, obviously in the process of being reattached. Both were chained to the garage door. I took the chisel from my pocket, found a loose cobblestone and started hammering. Fortunately the padlock wasn’t a strong one and it soon gave way. I put the ladder against the wall and scrambled up it, then inched my way up the slate-covered incline.

There was a layer of heavy-duty wire over the window, but I could see inside by shining my torch down. I almost dropped it. Jesus. There was an old chair in the middle of an open space. The leather straps on the arms and legs made it obvious that someone had been held captive there. The chair also had dark stains on it. I had the feeling that something very bad had happened here.

But there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. As far as I could see, there was no one living or dead in the lockup. I would send the police to it later, but in the meantime I had to move on.

The next property on my list was a flat in what I reckoned was an exclusive block near Tower Bridge.

What would I find in Number 6, The Royal Brewery?

The White Devil was driving a nondescript blue van through the sparse traffic on North End Way. Hampstead Heath was in the darkness to his right. He turned to his accomplice, whom he’d met half an hour after Corky gave the men in the Orion the slip.

“Not long now. Tonight we’ll get them all.”

“Then what?” answered the bearded figure in the padded black anorak.

“You know that,” he said, smiling broadly. “The Caribbean, and then the world is ours.”

“How can I trust you?”

The Devil laughed. “After all we’ve been through? Come on, Corky. We’ve known each other since we were in primary school.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. You never did tell me if you had anything to do with what happened to Richard Brady.”

“What, the bully? He was found dead in a wood outside Watford, wasn’t he?”

The other man gave a sharp laugh. “Yes, and I remember how pleased you were with yourself after the summer holidays. Come on, you can tell me. Did you do him?”

The driver looked over his shoulder. “She’s moving around a lot. Make sure her gag’s okay. And the ropes round her wrists.”

His accomplice sighed as he climbed between the seats, then inched past the motorbike he’d loaded earlier. He’d had a gutful of being ordered around. Still, the payoff would make that all worthwhile-as long as he never turned his back on the man who used to be Leslie Dunn.