The Lipstick Killers (22 page)

74

Margaret and Roxie kept Saint Cyr cuffed on the couch all night, just allowing him one toilet break and he complained bitterly at Roxie staying with him in the bathroom. ‘You wanted to show it to me last night badly enough,’ she said. ‘Just do what you have to do, and shut up.’

The next morning Margaret drove the Lexus up to Kensington with Saint Cyr on the front passenger side with his hands free, Roxie behind him, with the big Colt .45 jammed into the back of his seat. ‘I’ll blow your spine through the windscreen if you get any ideas,’ she said when they got moving. ‘I promise you I will.’

‘I believe you,’ he said. ‘But you don’t have access passes to get inside.’

‘Busk it,’ said Margaret. ‘You’re the big security boss. Surely you give out the passes?’

‘I’ll do my best, I run a tight ship here,’ he started, but stopped quickly when Mags glared at him.

‘You’d better,’ said Roxie. ‘Or you’re going to make
one hell of a mess on your nice leather upholstery.’

They got to the building about nine-thirty and Margaret swapped places with Saint Cyr in the street opposite, and he drove into the entrance to the
underground
car park. Roxie was now sitting behind the driver’s seat, gun in position.

‘Make it convincing,’ Margaret hissed at Saint Cyr as he lowered the driver’s side window. ‘And don’t get smart, or you’re dead.’

‘Visitors for Mr Haywood, Charlie,’ Saint Cyr said to the uniformed attendant in the glass-fronted booth.

The man picked up a clipboard and examined it. ‘Nothing here,’ he said in a bored tone.

‘That can’t be right,’ said Saint Cyr, a light sweat breaking out on his brow. ‘Didn’t Gina, his PA call down?’

The man shook his head. ‘I’d better call up,’ he said.

Margaret looked at Saint Cyr and bared her teeth, and Roxie dug the gun deeper into the upholstery, keeping it well out of the security man’s sight.

A car drew up behind them. ‘Come on Charlie,’ said Saint Cyr. ‘You’re holding up the traffic. Soon as I get inside I’ll get authorisation.’

‘If you say so Mr Sincere,’ said Charlie. ‘But remember it’s me who gets all the aggravation if people don’t have the right clearance and I let them in.’

‘I know. Just a glitch mate. Five minutes and I’ll have it sorted.’

The car behind sounded its horn and Charlie looked over at it, a scowl on his face.

‘
Charlie
,’ said Saint Cyr. Then to Margaret. ‘I told you we have strict rules about who comes and goes.’

‘No problem. We’re early anyway.’ Then she smiled at Charlie through the open window. ‘It is an important meeting. Short notice. You know how these things are.’

Charlie probably didn’t, but his face softened and then hardened again as the car behind sounded its horn again. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘But I want authorisation soon as.’

‘No problem,’ said Saint Cyr, as Charlie hit a button and the barrier rose.

‘Thanks,’ said Margaret and Saint Cyr in unison, and he let the car drift down the ramp towards the parking area.

75

‘You did well there Peter,’ said Margaret. ‘Don’t worry, this will be all over soon.’

‘You’re crazy. There’s people with guns up there.’

‘Yep, and there’s people with guns down here,’ smiled Roxie.

‘The odds are against you.’

‘Your sister isn’t dead. Revenge is a hell of an
incentive
to win.’

‘That’s my spot,’ he said, indicating a parking space marked AH No5.

‘Spin the car round and reverse in,’Margaret ordered. ‘Just in case we have to leave in a hurry. Be prepared, that’s my motto.’

He did as he was told and the trio exited the car, leaving it unlocked and the keys in Margaret’s pocket.

‘Through here to the front,’ he said, indicating a door.

‘What’s that?’ asked Margaret, pointing at another, larger, accordion door.

‘Service lift.’

‘How high does it go?’

‘Nineteenth. That’s it.’

‘Then I suppose you have to take the front lift, like we did the other day?’

‘That’s it.’

‘And the front lift takes us right up to Haywood’s office?’

‘Right.’

‘So if we use this one to the nineteenth, no one will know we’re coming?’ said Roxie, catching on to her sister’s plan.

‘There is CCTV down here.’ He pointed at a camera above the door to the main part of the building.

‘Who sees that?’

‘An external security office. The company that owns the car park watched those cameras.’

‘What about on your floors?’

‘Our security office oversees that, and we can see the inside of the staff and visitors’ lift.’

‘But not this one? Right, we’ll use this lift. Gives us an advantage.’

Saint Cyr tugged the lift door open. Inside was a scruffy metal box that smelled slightly of garbage. Saint Cyr pressed the button marked 19 and the lift ground slowly upwards.

‘When we get there, I want to go up to Haywood’s office.’

‘You’ll never make it.’

Margaret pulled the revolver from her pocket and Roxie again produced the big Colt. ‘These say that we will,’ said Margaret.

76

Eventually the lift stopped and Saint Cyr pulled the gate open. Inside was a large, scruffy loading bay with a key pad set to the side of another door in the opposite wall.

‘Your card works on that,’ said Margaret to Saint Cyr, at which he nodded.

‘You’re turning into such a good boy, Peter,’ she said. ‘It makes me think you have some surprises up your sleeve.’

He shrugged by way of reply. It was hard to do with a gun pressed hard into his spine.

‘Now I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,’ said Margaret. ‘We’re going to walk through like we all belong here. We don’t want to use these.’ She held up the gun then put her hand holding it into her handbag. ‘But we will, if forced. You say there are armed men in here?’

He nodded.

‘Christ! Peter, what kind of place is this? Thought you just dealt in import and export?’

He shrugged again. ‘A place you don’t want to be.’

‘Quite the contrary. Now we go upstairs and see Mr Haywood.’

‘OK. But you’ll never get out alive.’

‘Let’s see about that.’

Saint Cyr used his keycard, punched in a series of numbers on the pad, then pushed open the exit door revealing an empty corridor. ‘This way,’ he said.

The two women followed him along the corridor, through another door and into the reception from the back. The same black girl as on her previous visit was at the desk – she looked shocked at their entrance.

‘Good morning,’ said Saint Cyr, sounding as if he was trying too hard to be natural.

‘Good morning,’ she replied, as he pushed through the double doors leading to the internal lift. When Margaret looked back, she was picking up the phone on her desk.

‘We’ve been rumbled,’ she said. ‘Come on Peter, move.’

He took out his keycard again, inserted it in the slot by the side of the lift door, pressed four buttons and the lift door opened. He pressed for the penthouse office and the lift rose swiftly.

The door opened onto a small room where Haywood’s PA sat behind a desk. ‘Mr Saint Cyr,’ she said, half rising from her seat. ‘What’s going on. Who are these people?’

‘We’re here to see Mr Haywood,’ said Margaret.

‘Impossible.’

Margaret pulled her gun out of her bag. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I assume he’s in.’

The PA watched open mouthed as the three of them
crossed her office and into Haywood’s inner sanctum. ‘I’m calling security,’ she said.

‘You do that,’ said Margaret.

77

Haywood was sitting behind his desk, the sun shining through the window behind him, throwing his body into silhouette. ‘What’s this, St Cyr?’ he said. ‘Who are these unexpected, but charming visitors?’

‘I’m sorry,’ stuttered Saint Cyr. ‘I had no choice. These bitches kidnapped me.’

‘I told you about that Peter,’ said Margaret, and smacked him on the back of the head with the barrel of her pistol.

‘Maybe he likes being hurt,’ said Roxie. ‘He certainly asks for it enough.’

‘Now I recognise you,’ said Haywood to Margaret. ‘The police officer – who wasn’t one.’

‘I am a police officer.’

‘I know that too,’ said Haywood. ‘We had you on film. It wasn’t hard making an identification.’

‘Why didn’t you do something about it?’

‘Even police officers on suspension cause ripples if they disappear, or worse.’

‘But not accountants and their secretaries?’

‘Small fish,’ said Haywood, dismissing her.

‘You’re incredibly arrogant Mr Haywood,’ said Margaret. ‘We’re armed.’

‘So are my security men. And I’m sure someone has alerted them by now. I trust Gina is not hurt.’

‘The woman outside?’ asked Roxie.

Haywood nodded.

‘She’s fine. We don’t hurt women, unlike some people.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean by that. Now ladies, this has all been very interesting, but I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. I have nothing to say to you.’

‘No Mr Haywood,’ said Margaret. ‘You’re coming with us, and you are going to tell your story to another policeman.’

‘You’re so naive. And please, call me John,’ smiled Haywood.

‘You’re enjoying this,’ said Margaret, incredulously.

‘Haven’t had so much fun in years. Certainly livens up a dull Tuesday morning.’

‘Up you get,’ said Margaret, and that was when they heard the lift door in the outer office open.

78

‘That’ll be security now,’ said Haywood. ‘And I think there’s someone you ought to meet. Peter, get the door will you.’

‘Don’t do it,’ said Margaret. ‘You’ll leave it alone, if you know what’s good for you.’

‘I assure you it’s important.’

Margaret moved to his side of the desk and stuck her pistol into his ear. ‘OK, John,’ she said. ‘But if this goes pear-shaped, you’ll be the first to get it.’

‘So much aggression from such a pretty woman.’

‘Shut up. All right Peter, get the door.’

He did as he was told, with Roxie’s gun trained on him. Trent came through the door, arms raised away from his body. ‘Got them boss,’ he said. ‘The woman’s outside.’

‘Good work Trent,’ said Haywood.

‘Easy,’ he replied.

‘Then bring her in, and let’s get this over with.’

‘Baxter,’ said Trent through the open door. ‘Come on.’

Another man entered the room, dragging Frankie with him. He had one of her arms twisted tightly behind her back, and in his other hand, close to her head, he held a 9mm Beretta automatic. She had tears running down her face, which was distorted with pain.

Margaret and Roxie looked stunned. ‘What’s she doing here?’ said Margaret.

Through her tears Frankie said. ‘It was my fault.’

‘What was?’ asked Roxie, bewildered.

‘The money. I’ve got the money,’ Frankie wailed.

‘What?’ Roxie again.

‘The money Monty stole.’

‘You?’ said Roxie. ‘How have you got it?’

‘Sharon told me about it. She knew all along. She felt so guilty. That’s why she did what she did.’

‘Christ,’ said Margaret, almost relaxing her grip on the gun in shock, a mixture of fear and surprise flitting across her face.

‘I’m sorry to break up the family reunion,’ interrupted Haywood, ‘but this is hardly the time or place.’

‘Did you know what she was going to do?’ demanded Mags.

‘Of course not,’ said Frankie. ‘But perhaps. I should’ve told you both. I just wanted the money for the children’s sake. We could’ve gone away. A long way away from all this. Sharon as well. A fresh start.’

‘If you’re here, where are the kids?’ said Roxie suddenly, turning on Haywood. ‘If you’ve hurt them…’ she snarled.

‘The children are fine,’ he replied. ‘Just our little hostages to fortune. As soon as the money’s back where it belongs, so will they be. Now, if you’ll be kind enough
to put your weapons on the floor, we’ll try and sort this out with the minimum of fuss.’