The Whole Truth

CHAPTER 67

ONLY TWENTY MINUTES HAD PASSED since Shaw’s call when the buzzer on the entrance to Katie’s building went off. She ran to the door of her flat and spoke into the call box.

“Shaw?”

“Yep.”

She hit the button to release the door and then froze. Had that been Shaw’s voice? In her excitement she’d just assumed…

From down below she heard measured footfalls coming up. That didn’t sound like…

She bolted the door, grabbed her hastily packed bag, and looked frantically around for another way out. There was only one. The window overlooking the back alley.

She threw it open and peered out. It was a two-story drop. In the movies there would’ve been a convenient fire escape or mounds of soft garbage down below, but in real life there never were. And she had no time to knot sheets into a rope. What there was on the alley level was a guy, a big guy wearing jeans and a rugby sweater and reading a newspaper in the fading light while sitting in a beat-up lawn chair.

“A hundred quid if you catch me,” she called out.

“Pardon me?” he said, gazing up at her quizzically.

She climbed onto the windowsill, her bag slung over her back. “I’m going to jump and you’re going to catch me. Understood?”

The man dropped his newspaper and stood up looking around, perhaps to see if this was some sort of prank.

“You say you’re going to jump?”

“Do not drop me!”

“Oh, dear Lord,” was all he could manage.

There was someone right outside of Katie’s door now. She heard something pushing against the wood. For an excruciatingly long moment all she saw was Anna Fischer, positioned just as Katie was, and the bullets ripping through her body. If only she’d jumped an instant sooner.

“Here I come,” she called down to the man, who was hopping around, his thick arms flying in all directions, trying to best gauge her trajectory. “Do not miss!” she added firmly.

She leapt and a couple seconds later she and the man tumbled down in a tangle of arms and legs. Katie got to her feet, all body parts seemingly intact, and except for a bruised arm and cut shin she was fine. She shoved five twenty-pound notes into his hand, gave him a kiss, and ran for it.

She turned the corner and headed away from her building. She didn’t look back and didn’t see the man change direction and head her way. She didn’t see the door of her apartment building fly open either as another man hit the street and hustled after her. But she could feel their presence and picked up her pace. Should she start screaming? There were plenty of people around. But what if they had guns? They’d shot poor Lesnik with a million people around. She desperately looked for a cop yet saw none.

She never saw the third man, because he was ahead of her but coming her way. He was the safety valve in case the first team missed, and it looked like he would get his chance. He slid the syringe from the sleeve of his coat, uncapped it, and held it ready as he picked up his pace.