The Unseen (34 page)

“That doesn’t gel.” Sean took the phone. “You cornered Zoby?” he asked. Victoria’s voice came back, slightly breathless and with a touch of tremor.

“He’s cornered me. I’m trapped in the accounts office of PKL. Snibbard’s barricaded himself into a flat and is firing on anything that moves. Caswell is next door, also under threat. I hate to say it, but the man saved my life. Zellar maybe a prisoner or dead, we don’t know. SO19 are here but they’re waiting on developments.”

“No communication with Snibbard?”

“No mobiles and the land lines are out. I’ve been told by the local boys to stay put and concealed. When I arrived there was only one member of staff here. I think Zellar’s dead and I think I was being lined up as the next victim. In my opinion these guys are seriously weird, including Caswell. But he saved my life. He says that Faulkner was Crystal and Snibbard is Zoby. Somehow he guessed what was going to happen and tried to prevent it, though I have no proof.”

“Two women, top quality, you and Mrs Zellar. It was in the Colonel’s e-mail.”

“It certainly looks that way, though I don’t care for the compliment.”

“You OK?”

“I wish I was out of here.” Her voice quavered on the last word and he heard the sniff of control. “They were going to kill me. My guts spewed out like the other women. The more I think, the more it hits me. Faulkner and Snibbard …” Her words trailed off. He imagined her biting down on her lower lip.

“It will be OK. Stay tight, I’m coming. I love you.” Sean replaced the receiver. When he looked up the others were staring. He drew breath. “We have ourselves a situation at Shoreditch. Zoby possibly cornered. One, maybe two dead. Two others trapped.”

“ID on Zoby?” Diane asked.

“Snibbard.”

“How was he in Ireland?”

Sean spread his hands. “No evidence, but it’s not impossible. The two women, Zellar and Victoria. It fits the e-mail, two top quality females.”

“Kill someone in their own office?” Carole shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Where’s the sense of a psychopath?”

“Shall I leave this?” Carole flicked the drawing. He saw her expression, her glory gone.

“No, there may be two Zobys. And as yet we’ve no firm proof Faulkner was Crystal, or Snibbard Zoby.”

Sean sat in the car and tried to rationalise while Simmy drove with his normal disregard for passengers’ nerves. Headlights blazing, siren screaming, he weaved the unmarked Jaguar through the traffic and red lights with zealous determination. Sean covered his eyes. None of what had emerged made sense. If Snibbard was Zoby, DNA linking the Bradshaws and Poor Girl victims also made him an accomplished burglar. Highly unlikely, unless Zoby was using help. He phoned Cobbart.

“We need this guy alive,” Sean told him. “What if he’s not Zoby, what if he has vital information?”

“Snibbard has murdered one, possibly two people. The guys on the ground will give him every chance but it’s not our turf. Snibbard has to be Zoby. It all fits, everything links back to PKL and the games, the other victims, the e-mails, everything. You’ve done well, Sean.”

“This isn’t over, John. We are making too many assumptions, it’s too tidy a package.”

“Have faith. This is the result of your own careful detective work.” Cobbart paused. “Report just in that Snibbard fired on one of the SO19 team, fortunately he missed. But these boys won’t give a him second chance.”

“Pull strings for me, John. I need to question him.”

“I’ll do my best, but it’s really out of my hands.”

Sean switched off and again closed his eyes as Simmy gunned the Jaguar passed more red lights.

Sean thumbed through the logic. More than one Zoby was possible. The world was full of psychopaths. If the Colonel controlled one, why not two, three, a hundred? To catch Zoby was not the end. He needed the one who played the Colonel. Sean sat embroiled in thought, mobile in his lap awaiting the next call. Only near their destination did he remember his closing words to Victoria. They had been instinctive, without thought, words to comfort. Difficult to believe he uttered such a statement. Now it seemed logical, to fall in love was so easy. Only the rest was difficult. Throughout the trip Diane sat in silence, arms folded, lips compressed.

The streets on either side of the building were cordoned off and traffic diverted into a resulting gridlock. Uniformed police stood everywhere. A collective display of badges and Sean’s nice-guy smile got his team under the tape and into the ground floor foyer of the building.

Members of SO19 armed with Heckler & Koch MP5s milled around in blue flak jackets looking ready for war. Clearly upstaged, groups of CID in sharp suits and leather jackets affected boredom while they waited for the crime scene to be cleared and made safe. At the centre of this a capped and baton-wielding superintendent held court with a selected group of pressmen. No one seemed visibly in charge.

When Sean approached the stairs two of SO19 at the bottom shook their heads and pointed to the uniformed superintendent. The same thing happened at the lift. Across the foyer someone set up a tea urn that caused a general shift of superfluous CID in its direction.

Sean extracted his badge. The superintendent appeared in age to qualify for the Old Boys’ Club. Cobbart had to be of some use here.

“Excuse me, sir.” Sean pushed amongst the press and showed his ID. “I need a word.”

The superintendent stared stony-faced while he read the badge, then moved from the press so they could talk.

“So, the Serious Organised Crime Agency and MI5 are still holding hands,” he said. “What’s your interest here?”

Sean ignored the dig. “Victoria Lawless is one of my team players. She was actually visiting as part of our operation. Snibbard, Caswell, Faulkner and their business activities are part of an investigation involving multiple murders and organised fraud. Snibbard could be the murderer and I would like to help extract him alive.”

“So would I, Inspector, but my priority is to make this building safe. Unfortunately, Snibbard appears to be highly volatile and erratic. Twice he’s taken shots at my men and will listen to no-one. That means he has about zero chance. If he thinks the game is up he wouldn’t be the first to choose a police bullet.”

“From what I know, Snibbard is probably terrified. If I convince him he won’t be harmed, that we don’t believe he’s a character called Zoby, then he may surrender.”

“Zoby?”

“It’s a long story, sir. The traffic is building up while the psychiatrists hold meetings. Very soon people sitting round tables will be shouting at us to do something.

“Don’t I know it? But I already have a good man up there.”

Sean tried the Old Boys’ approach. “Snibbard may have murdered Sammy Sinclair’s daughter. He may be able to provide evidence relating to Superintendent Sinclair’s death.”

A muscle twitched in the hard face staring back at him.

“Excuse me a moment.” The superintendent extracted his mobile and moved to one side. Isolated, he pressed buttons on the keypad and spoke quietly, occasionally glancing in Sean’s direction. When he returned his expression had mellowed. “I’ll let you up, Inspector, on the proviso that your actions are voluntary, and your enquiries are involved with evidence which might persuade Snibbard to surrender.”

Sean thought the man a politician if nothing else. “The outcome is not guaranteed, sir.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the way of things. The guy in charge is called Bates. If he needs your services he’ll direct you. If not, you come down again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t take chances, Fagan. If you or any of my men become casualties, I shall not be happy. Neither will the troll.”

The lift carried Sean and one officer of SO19 to the fifth floor. A team of about thirty was installed in an open plan office. Screens were stacked at the bottom of a stairwell to give protection.

Sean came out of the lift to face four men. All wore the dark blue uniform and flak jackets of SO19; all were armed with Heckler and Koch MP5s.

“I’m C.I. Bates.” One of them thrust out his hand. “I’m responsible. How can you help?”

Sean found the man’s direct talking impressive but it left no room for manoeuvre. He began to repeat what he had told the superintendent. He added, “If the woman in the flat is dead, then a suspect known as Zoby murdered her. If that’s not Snibbard, and I don’t think it is, he may be traumatised by terror. In which case I can possibly persuade him to surrender by ensuring his safety.”

Bates thrust hands into pockets. “Zoby. That’s the name he keeps calling. “I’ll kill you, Zoby. Bastard Zoby.” I get the impression he thinks Zoby is one of us. Let me explain the situation. We’ve tried first contact and reasoning, but with no intelligible response. We can’t use gas on account of others in the proximity and the possibility that the woman he’s supposedly murdered is still held hostage and seriously injured. I’m told by the politically correct that anyone held hostage can sue us for not taking appropriate action which might have lessened their suffering. Neither am I allowed to starve him out by denying food and water as it’s against his human rights. He shot at a woman staff member who was first on the scene. He shot at one of my men and he shot at me when I stepped out to reason with him. Your player, Victoria Lawless, also tried shouting to him but got no response. Occasionally we pick up whispered conversation between Snibbard and Caswell but our long range listening device is not clarifying what is said. Caswell is close and first in the line of fire should Snibbard do something rash. It’s probable he’s been talking for his life, trying to convince Snibbard that his situation is hopeless. What are you going to say, Inspector?”

“That I believe he’s not Zoby. That I can save him from Zoby,” Sean said, knowing that to extract Snibbard alive would earn Bates a commendation. “I’m also a trained negotiator,” he threw in for good measure.

Bates was eyeing him with professional detachment and clearly still calculating. His future career hung in the balance, pivoted between his decision and Sean’s ability. Sean knew Snibbard’s death would black mark Bates’ record. But if SOCA entered and things went wrong, then SOCA could be blamed. That was the principal reason he had been allowed up.

“OK, we’ll give one final try. After that I’ve no real choice but to whack the guy.”

Sean climbed the stairs and stopped below an armed group of SO19 clustered at the top. On Bates’ insistence, Sean wore a flak jacket and body set. While a sergeant checked the body mike, Sean adjusted the earpiece and registered transmission with SO19 control below.

Once you step round the corner you’re in range,” the sergeant said. “Unless you have a face hit, at this distance you’ll be OK, but the closer you approach the more likelihood of serious injury. So, all initial negotiation you do from here.” He pointed to a megaphone and surveillance camera sited in the open passage on attached cable and bogey trolley. “If you look to the CCTV screen,” he said, pointing. “You’ll see two open doors. The female hostage is inside the first. At the moment she’s perfectly safe and we’ve talked to her over the mobile. But to conserve battery power, she only switches on when necessary. Caswell is in the second doorway. We’ve also spoken to him over the mobile. He tells us he’s tried repeatedly to talk Snibbard out, but the guy won’t budge on account he’s already murdered a woman in the flat. When you’re in the corridor keep to the near wall by the doors and don’t block the view of the camera. In that way, if he lifts the weapon to shoot we’ll see and retaliate. Then you go immediately to ground, or be in the line of fire. And you know what that means, Inspector.” He slapped Sean’s arm. “Good luck.”

Sean stood three steps down watching the CCTV screen. “Hi, Sidney,” Sean’s voice reverberated over the amplifier and down the corridor. “My name’s Sean Fagan. I’m a detective inspector. I’ve come to help you. You see, I know all about PKL and the problems you’ve had with Zoby. I also believe you are not Zoby. I’d like to help if you’d let me. I can prove your innocence. Will you let me do that?” Sean paused. “OK, I’m going to step into the corridor, please don’t fire your weapon or it will be fatal for us both.”

With no movement from behind the table barricading the flat, Sean mounted the final steps, turning to face the flat as he moved closer to the wall.

“It’s my firm belief you’re innocent, Sidney. Someone is trying to put the blame on you, but I won’t let them get away with it. I’ll see to that. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” Sean took three steps down the hall until able to see where Victoria lay prone on the floor at an angle to the doorway. “Put down your weapon, Sidney, and I guarantee no harm will come to you,” he said, his words firm and isolated in the confined atmosphere.