The Eagle's Covenant (22 page)

Conor knew Breggie de Kok was in that apartment block with Joanna’s baby son, but he didn’t know where. By logical reasoning he had decided that the odds were her apartment was one of the penthouse suites. He couldn’t accept that a man of Hans Schiller’s wealth would settle for anything less, particularly as it was a love nest for his mistress.

There were sixteen apartments in all. Eight on either side of a central stairwell and lift shaft. Access to the apartment block was through a prestigious front entrance which allowed an observer walking by to see through the glass doors. Conor had walked by that morning. Through the doors he had seen a desk and a uniformed member of staff. No doubt the man’s job was to act as a barrier and allow no unauthorised access to any of the apartments. It was a classic aspect of security in this kind of building.

From Conor’s vantage point he could not see the front of the apartment block and, from what he could see there was little scope for an unobserved entry. Above the penthouse suites was the flat roof with outlets for air conditioning.

Earlier that morning, from a higher vantage point, he had seen what appeared to be the top of the lift shaft where the lift motor would be housed. There was also a roof access stairwell visible and obvious because of the closed door built into it, almost certainly used by maintenance technicians for access to the roof. But more interestingly, from Conor’s point of view, was the fire escape. There was one at each end of the building, cleverly designed to blend in with its style and almost neatly concealed from view. There would have been a fire door at each level, and Conor had a wire coat hanger in the boot of his car that he would probably need if he had to go in through any one of those fire doors. Judging from the rooftop construction, it was obvious that the two penthouse apartments had their own access on to the fire escape.

Without the benefit of seeing it, Conor assumed there would be a fire door at the rear of each penthouse which opened out on to the roof.

He folded his arms for a while, considering how best to gain entry into the building without raising the alarm. Going through the front entrance was out of the question without proper planning. He might have been able to achieve it by using a diversion, but he was operating alone and dismissed that option. And because his knowledge of any of the residents was nil, with the exception of Breggie, he was unable to concoct some outrageous lie and feed it to the security man inside the front entrance.

He was wrestling with the problem when something caught his eye. It was a BMW car with smoked glass windows slowing to a halt in the road about fifty metres from the building. The front door of the BMW opened and a tall, well-built man got out. He was wearing sunglasses. Conor raised his binoculars. The rear door then opened and another man, similarly dressed, got out. As he turned to close the door, Conor saw the figure sitting in the rear passenger seat. The size of the man was unmistakeable, such was his bulk. That brief, fleeting moment was enough to tell him that The Dutchman had turned up.

Conor lowered the glasses again. This was a development that was not altogether unexpected, but what was unexpected was that the Dutchman should turn up in person. He brought the glasses up again and followed the two men. From the car he was just able to make out their features through the binoculars. He found himself nodding gently. He had recognised one of the Dutchman’s gorillas from the nightclub.

Conor knew then he had little time to scheme or plan. Those men were going into that building for one reason only. And what bothered Conor was that they looked like two men who were not expecting trouble.

He had no option but to go. He started the engine and pulled out into the traffic, intending to drive beyond the Dutchman’s car and park it further along the road. To pull up too close to the Dutchman was to invite recognition from the fat man, so he continued driving until he found a convenient space.

As Conor made his move, the surveillance team from G9 saw him go. The driver of the car tied to pull out but was held up for a moment by traffic. He cursed loudly because he had to watch the oncoming cars and try to keep Conor in sight all the time. His partner made a call on the radio to say the target was on the move and in which direction he was driving. The reply was simply to maintain contact and observe. By then it was too late; they had lost sight of Conor.

Hoffman was in another car parked further along the north side of the river. He heard the voice of the surveillance operative through his headset telling him of Conor’s movements and subsequent disappearance. Hoffman swore loudly.

Conor parked his car in the first, convenient space. He slipped out of the car and sprinted down towards the river then ran towards the apartment block. He reached it about two minutes after the Dutchman’s men had walked in through the front entrance. He slowed to a trot, then a walk and strolled past the front entrance of the building. Through the doors he could see one of the Dutchman’s gorillas leaning against the desk. There was no sign of the other one. Conor threw caution to the wind and worked his way round to the rear of the block until he was standing beneath the fire escape.

The spiral ladder was designed so that it fitted in a column, rather like a chimney but with one side open. Conor was aware of the security cameras mounted on high stanchions at strategic points but kept his head down and, using a knife and the hooked end the old, wire coat hanger he slipped the hooked end of the coat hanger between the doors and pulled back on the panic bar. The doors opened and he slid between them.

He sprinted up the stairs, ignoring all the doors that opened directly on to the fire escape until he reached the top. He opened the door there and lay flat on the roof to catch his breath. Two minutes later he sat up and began edging his way along the rear wall of the penthouse.

*

Breggie de Kok started her day in a bright mood. Little Manny was responding well to the antibiotics and she was formulating a plan to return the baby for a ransom which would leave her in clover for the rest of her life. For a while, Breggie had imagined that the baby was hers and Hansi was her husband. She acted out little scenarios with the baby, telling him that daddy was at work now and he would be home soon. There were promises that they would all go to the Eiffels for the weekend and go boating on the lakes. Later they would go to Cologne Zoo and see all the animals.

The mood fed her hopes for her future. Once out of this she would return to South Africa. Things were a little better there now, and there was no future for her in Germany. She would join the movement for an independent homeland for the whites. It was a banner that she could rally to. It had its appeal and she found herself humming a tune.

She opened the windows of the penthouse, letting the breeze flow through. She opened a rear window too thinking how thoughtful the architect had been to build a decorative screen wall to hide the ugliness of the flat roof. Not that they used the rooms at the back of the penthouse. They were mainly guest rooms. Hansi had never invited guests in anyway.

She walked through to Manny’s room. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Breggie thought it would be nice to have a bath and, maybe, take Manny out for a walk. She went into the bathroom and opened the gold taps. She poured some very expensive foam bath into the water which Hansi had bought her and always insisted she use. Then she stripped off and stopped. The soft, downy hair on the nape of her neck lifted as she heard an unfamiliar noise immediately behind her.

Breggie was poised, one foot on the edge of the bath, half turned, when the gorilla walked in. For one, very brief moment, Breggie was too stunned to say anything. The gorilla couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck.

Suddenly Breggie jerked out of her stupefied state. “Who the fuck are you?”

The gorilla was a big man, well over six feet tall and probably two hundred pounds in weight. His eyes were glued fast to Breggie’s superb figure.

“Oh baby,” he drooled. “I’m going have some of this.” Before Breggie could move he had reached out and grabbed her throat in a vice-like grip.

Breggie kicked out at him, but he was so strong she was no more than a rag doll in his bear like hand. He lifted her off her feet and carried her through to the first convenient room he could find. Breggie had tried to scream but his free hand was clamped solidly over her mouth.

He threw her on to a bed and swiped her across the face with the back of his hand. The sheer force of the blow knocked her out and she went limp. The gorilla smiled lasciviously. He took his jacket off, removed his gun and laid it on the table beside the bed. Breggie started groaning as he straddled her. He slapped her face gently.

“Wake up, baby. Look what daddy’s got for you.”

Breggie started struggling again and lashing out at him, but he was strong enough to ignore her blows. He unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. Breggie screamed again and he clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, baby, I’m sure going to enjoy this.”

He entered her and Breggie screamed and shouted filth and derision on him, but his huge, walrus like bulk drove the breath from her body with each thrust of his penis.

Eventually it was over. He pulled out and groaned but didn’t roll off. Breggie thought she was going to die beneath his dead weight. She couldn’t breathe properly and was genuinely in fear of her life.

He eventually sat up, but still kept his weight on her. He smiled and reached over for his gun. “Don’t move honey. If you do, I’ll kill you. Now that I’ve fucked you, you’re no good to me.”

He stood up beside the bed and tidied himself up. All the while he held the gun on Breggie and she knew that to move would invite the killing shot. She had to bide her time.

“Now,” he said at last. “Where’s the baby?”

Breggie snarled at him. “Fuck off!” she snapped.

He whipped the pistol across her face and opened the flesh to the bone. It was the last thing he ever did: Conor shot him through the head.

At that moment, Breggie had covered her face and she was unaware that her rapist had been shot. She wasn’t even aware that Conor had entered the room. All that was in her mind was the blinding pain and the fear of another blow. As she screamed in agony she heard the shot. It didn’t register at first, but when it did she pulled her hands slowly away from her battered and bleeding face.

Her first glimpse of the gorilla was him falling away from her. Then she saw Conor standing in the doorway, legs apart in that classic stance of someone who knew how to kill with a gun. He wore gloves on both hands.

It was all too much for Breggie to take. She recognised Conor almost immediately, but the questions in her head piled into each other so quick she couldn’t speak.

Conor said nothing to Breggie. He picked up the gun dropped by the dead man. Then he put his own gun away. Breggie found her voice.

“How?” He knew she was referring to the bombed house.

“Lucky, I guess.”

“Why have you come here?”

He shook his head. “You don’t want to know that, Breggie.”

Breggie groaned and covered her face with her hands. She rolled off the bed on to the floor. Conor moved away from her, edging round to the foot of the bed. As far as he was concerned, she was still dangerous.

“We can do a deal,” she said.

“No deals.”

“We can split the ransom.”

“No deals.”

“Conor,” she pleaded through bloody lips. “I’ll do anything. We’d be great together.”

“No deals,” he repeated.

Suddenly Breggie moved. It was quick, snapping round like the wounded animal she was. She squeezed the trigger as soon as the gun was lined up on Conor’s body, and at that moment, Joseph’s words came back to haunt her: “
One of these days Breggie my darling, you will make a mistake
.”

She had left the safety catch on.

Conor shot her. The bullet went straight into her mouth and drove up into her brain. She was dead before she hit the floor.

Conor sighed. He had hoped he could have learned more from her, but the trail had now ended. It stopped there. He went over to her body and took her gun out of her hand. He assumed she had pulled it out from under the mattress, or maybe it was lying beneath the bed. It was academic anyway; she had got the gun and was going to kill him.

He took his own gun out and pressed it into Breggie’s dead hand. Then he put the gorilla’s gun beside him on the bed. There was nothing left to do, so he walked out of the room and went through to check on the baby. Little Manny was sleeping, blissfully unaware of the violence that had blown like a storm through his short life.

He smiled at the infant and touched him gently on the cheek with the tip of his finger. Then he went back into the apartment and picked up the phone.

“Put me through to the police, please.”

The next thing Conor did was to leave the apartment by the front door. Outside the door he found the fire alarm as he expected. It was fixed to the wall in easy reach, should it be needed by the occupant of the penthouse. He smashed the glass and immediately the apartment block was filled with the jangling bedlam of alarm bells.           

One minute later, Conor was climbing down the fire escape. He had to go down two floors before he came to a fire door that had been opened. The people that had opened the door were already halfway down the fire escape. He went inside and closed the door behind him.