Dead or Alive (18 page)

‘We'll hide in here. Can you lock the other door?'

‘Yeah, then what?'

‘Give me the brick.'

She took it from the pocket of his jacket which she was now wearing and handed it to him. ‘What're you gonna do, Sep?'

‘I'm gonna play it by ear. Someone's bound to come down before long.'

Using the picklock, Winnie locked the door she'd just opened and then joined Sep. They stood there in nervous silence for twenty minutes, after which their hearts picked up speed at the sound of the door at the top of the steps being unlocked. Winnie was grasping his arm.

‘I'm scared, Sep,' she whispered.

‘Just stay behind me. If you get a chance to run out of this place, take it. Don't worry about me.'

He closed the door of their new room quietly and stood behind it as they listened to heavy feet coming down the stone steps. The footsteps stopped. The lock to their recently vacated prison rattled. Sep was picturing exactly where the man was. Right now he'd be opening the door with his back to the passage. In one quick movement Sep opened his door, stepped out, and slammed the brick down on the back of Dragos's head.

The huge Romanian fell to the floor and rolled over, stunned but not completely unconscious. He still had hold of his gun which he aimed at Sep. Sep dived to one side then kicked out at Dragos's gun arm as the weapon fired. A bullet hit the wall behind Sep and ricocheted twice. The gun flew from Dragos's hand and landed in the passageway. Winnie picked it up and pointed it, with shaking hand, in the direction of Dragos who was roaring with rage and clambering to his feet. From where he was on the floor, and with his bare foot, Sep kicked the big Romanian in the throat, sending him back to the floor.

‘I've got his gun,' called out Winnie.

Sep fell on top of the Romanian who was much the bigger man, huge and strong and writhing about, trying to shake Sep off, catching him with an elbow and then with a fist to his stomach.

Sep rolled away, winded. Winnie stepped forward, holding the gun in two shaking hands, pointing it down at Dragos's head and shouting.

‘Leave him or I'll shoot you!'

Dragos, lying on his back, looked up at her wavering hands and gave a fierce grin. ‘You wouldn't fucking dare!'

‘Oh, yes I would! This is for pissing on me. You really hurt my feelings.'

Winnie changed her aim to his groin. His eyes widened in horror, now deeply regretting what he'd done to her. Sep was still trying to catch his breath when she pulled the trigger. The bullet found its tender target, ricocheted off the concrete floor beneath Dragos, and more or less retraced its painful path, going straight through the ceiling after making the return journey through the Romanian's manhood. Blood was soaking his trousers and shirt.

‘Well, he won't be boasting about that thing anymore,' she said, looking at Sep, who didn't quite know what she was talking about. He was still gasping for breath. Dragos tried to sit up and let out a feral howl of agony. The shock and intense pain quickly got the better of him and he fell back, unconscious. Winnie stood over him, gun in hand, her sense of worthlessness at being raped now completely purged in the most poetic fashion. She looked at Sep.

‘Is he still alive?'

She didn't sound as if she cared overmuch.

‘I think so.' Sep leaned over Dragos, trying to assess his injury in the dim light of the cellar. ‘My God, Winnie! You certainly paid him back for what he did to you.' Then he added, ‘I think they'll have heard this shooting upstairs.' He took the gun from Winnie and added, ‘So we'd best brace ourselves.'

Loud noises came from upstairs. Men shouting. The main cellar door banged open. Many feet racing down the stone steps. Two hearts thudding in the cellar.

S
ep slammed the door shut and told Winnie to stand with her back to the brick wall adjacent to the door. Then he pointed the gun at the door and called out, ‘Your man's down. I've got his gun. The first men through that door will die before you get me.'

He heard angry voices in reply, but his head hadn't completely cleared from his initial concussion, and his fight with Dragos had made him further disoriented. Winnie was shouting at him but he didn't hear her. His mind was concentrated on what was about to happen to them. Would they come out of this dead or alive? He was wondering if he should send a couple of rounds straight through the door to show them he meant business. He checked the magazine. The gun was a Glock 17. It had fifteen rounds left. He slammed it back in and shouted.

‘I've got fifteen rounds in here. I can take all you bastards with fifteen rounds!'

Winnie was screaming at him. ‘Sep, it's the fucking police!'

‘What?'

‘Listen to them!'

The men outside were shouting ‘Armed police!'

‘What?' shouted Sep.

‘We are opening the door. Put down your weapon and stand back or you will be shot!'

Sep shook his head to clear it and called out, ‘Who's in charge?'

‘Why do you need to know that?' Winnie asked.

‘It could be them pimpy bastards tricking me because I've got a gun,' said Sep.

‘Oh … right,' said Winnie, upset at such a possibility.

‘I need te know you are who ye say y'are,' called out Sep, aka Jimmy Lennon. ‘Who's in charge out there? Gimme the guy's name.'

There was a brief hesitation then a voice said, ‘Detective Inspector Cope.'

Sep smiled at Winnie. ‘Guid answer,' he called back. ‘The doors no locked, kick it open and I'll throw ma gun out.'

The door was kicked open, Sep threw out his gun. Four police officers came in, all in black, with helmets and visors and bulletproof vests. Two carried Heckler and Koch MP5s, the others carried semi-automatic handguns. They screamed at Sep and Winnie.

‘On the floor, face down, hands behind your heads. NOW!'

Face down suited Sep. He knew a few of the lads in the West Yorkshire Police Armed Response Unit and he was hoping none of them recognized him. This might be a severe test of his new persona. One of them bent over Dragos. Winnie shouted out. ‘He's the bad guy. He's one of the pimps! We've been locked up in here. We have nothing to do with them!'

‘Get an ambulance,' said one officer, then to Sep he asked, ‘Who did this to him?'

Sep decided to answer a question with a question, maintaining his Scottish accent. This had Winnie admiring his presence of mind. He was still Jimmy Lennon to the police.

‘Where's yer man Cope?' he asked.

‘Why?'

‘Just bring him doon here. He knows me well enough and can vouch fer me, and I can vouch fer the lady.'

‘Who are you?'

‘Just tell DI Cope ye have Jimmy, his big, scruffy Scotch pal doon in the cellar.'

Two of the officers left. A few minutes later Sep, still face down on the floor, noticed a pair of highly polished shoes standing next to him. Cope spoke.

‘Bloody hell! I should have known you'd have something to do with this.'

‘It was me who shot him,' said Winnie. ‘He raped me when I first arrived then when Jimmy got into a fight, he lost his gun so I shot him in the bollocks.'

‘Who are you?' said Cope, not recognizing her.

‘Winnie O'Toole. If I smell bad it's because he peed on me after he raped me. When a man does all that to you it's too tempting not to shoot him in the bollocks when the chance arises.'

‘He was getting the better of me,' said Sep. ‘If Winnie hadn't shot the filthy bastard, we'd have been done for right enough.'

‘I'll be interested to know what the CPS make of this,' remarked Cope.

‘I gather ye were called by Gabriela,' Sep said.

‘We were indeed. There was no need for you to get so involved.'

‘I'm the reason he became involved,' said Winnie. ‘They had me locked in here and Jimmy came looking for me.'

‘Yes, Gabriela told me some of the story.'

Cope instructed the two remaining officers to go upstairs and assist their colleagues. ‘Get the medics down here as soon as they arrive. I'll deal with these two,' he added.

Now on their own, Sep and Winnie got to their feet. Cope was saying. ‘Well if this is the quality of information you have for me I think we can do business, Jimmy.'

‘How much do I get for this?' Sep asked him.

‘I think your payment should be me talking the CPS out of prosecuting Winnie for shooting him – possibly killing him. He's not looking too good.'

‘He raped her,' said Sep, ‘and she ends up wi' a gun, and him on the floor. What do the CPS expect?'

‘Well, I certainly think his raping days are over,' commented Cope.

Winnie voiced her only concern. ‘They took my clothes and my wallet and mobile,' she said. ‘I'd like them back please.'

‘They're prob'ly wimmie shoes and socks,' said Sep. ‘They've also got my mobile and about fifty quid.'

Cope looked at Winnie in Sep's coat, which was barely protecting her modesty, then he went back up the cellar steps, calling out that a woman's clothes and a man's shoes and socks and two mobiles should be about somewhere. His brief absence gave Sep time to collect his thoughts and remember he was still acting out a subterfuge. He murmured to Winnie, ‘Let me do the talking. You're supposed to be in shock.'

‘Supposed to be? I
am
in bloody shock. Will I get done for shooting him?'

‘Hopefully not.'

Cope returned and said, ‘I would think the information will be worth five hundred to a thousand, once we have a conviction.'

‘That could be months,' protested Sep. ‘An' this is a dangerous game, by the way.'

‘It's the way we work.'

‘Hows aboot five hundred now and five hundred later?'

‘It doesn't work like that.'

Sep knew it did. ‘Fair enough,' he said. ‘Once you have yer conviction and ye pay me ma full grand, that's when I gi' ye ma next lead.'

Cope thought about this. ‘OK, you give me another lead and I'll see about the five hundred. Do you still have a mobile number I can get you on?'

‘I don't know. Did ye find it? It's a red one.'

‘If it's here we'll get it for you.'

‘That and fifty quid they took.'

Sep had two mobiles. One for everyday use and a special red one for rare occasions such as this. It was a little-used phone but he remembered the number, which he gave to Cope. ‘OK,' he said, ‘we'll talk aboot money then. In the meantime, we'd rather not be caught up wi' these pimpy bastards. I assume we're free te go wi' no further involvement.'

A uniformed policeman appeared with a bundle of clothes, Sep's shoes, the two mobiles and Winnie's wallet.

‘I'm still missing fifty quid,' said Sep, playing his Jimmy Lennon role for all it was worth. ‘I cannae afford te lose fifty quid.'

‘You nearly lost your life,' said Cope.

‘Aye, there is that.'

‘I'd better accompany you outside.'

‘Both of us?' said Sep.

‘Yes, but I can't guarantee she's out of the woods. If she was raped she needs to come to the station to be examined.'

Sep waited until the other policeman had left before he said, ‘I don't think Winnie wants to get involved in a court case with these people.'

‘Correct,' confirmed Winnie.

Cope looked down at the unconscious man. ‘If he dies he won't have to answer a rape charge, which just leaves us with how he died.' He now looked at Winnie.

‘She gave me this lead,' said Sep, ‘and she's a victim. If she gets convicted of anythin' I'm out of our arrangement.'

‘I'll see what can be done,' said Cope, ‘but I can't guarantee anything.'

Once outside, Sep put an arm around Winnie who was shaking with delayed shock. Sep looked round for his bike.

‘Bloody hell! Someone's stolen my bike.'

‘It could be one of that lot.'

‘Doubt it. Anyway, not to worry, there's a GPS tracker on it.'

‘You put a tracker on your bike?'

‘It's an expensive bike. I got to really like it. Have you not noticed how fit I've been lately?'

But she was in no mood for his attempt at humour. ‘Could you drive me home? I'm feeling a bit fragile.'

‘No problem.'

‘Sep.'

‘Yeah?'

‘They didn't give me my knickers back. W … why didn't they give me my knickers back?'

Sep just squeezed her a bit harder. He thought the police might have hung on to them for some intrusive DNA reasons but it would do no good to tell her that. They'd taken nothing from him that might produce his DNA – of which the police would have a record. He checked his face for wounds that might have left blood behind. He had a sore head and sore ribs but nothing more. He suspected Cope didn't want the identity of this scruffy Scotsman too widely known. Sep was his informant, no one else's. He grinned to himself. His bogus self was being protected by the very man it was meant to damage.

‘Gabriela will be pleased to see you,' he remarked as he drove them to her home.

‘I'm guessing you left her the copper's number,' murmured Winnie, still not herself.

‘I left her Cope's card, just telling her this was the copper who'd be helping us out. I think she must have taken it upon herself not to wait for me to get back. He must have gone straight round to your house, identified the brothel on the computer and organized an armed response team. All that takes time. I bet she rang Cope the second I left your house. Women, eh? They don't trust you to do anything right.'

This raised a slight smile from Winnie. ‘Yeah,' she said, then added, ‘You came for me though, didn't you, Sep?'

‘Yes I did, but I was a bit clumsy.'

‘Thanks for coming for me – and we might even have got out on our own. You'd won the fight and I had the gun.'