Ultimate Justice (19 page)

“Have you had an accident?”

Small’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

He pointed down at the bin in front of him.

“Oh that. It was nothing. What do you want, Mr. Warner?”

Tony leaned on the desk placing his face a few inches from hers. “My wife.”

Small shot back in her chair. “You’ve lost your wife and need one of my girls to fill her shoes, is that it?” she queried perplexed.

“Is it fuck! You know damn well who I am and why I’m here. Now where’s my bloody wife?”

The woman got out of her chair to challenge him. “How the fuck should I know, you creep? She left here hours ago. Maybe she’s desperate to get away from you harassing her.”

“I’ll ask you one more time before I force you to tell me.”

Tara Small’s hand opened the drawer to her desk and disappeared inside. She pulled out a small-bladed knife and thrust it in front of Tony’s face. “Bring it on, big boy.”

Tony backed up, ensuring the desk wouldn’t hamper his next move. He held his hands up and shrugged. “Okay, you win.”

As soon as Tara’s hand relaxed its grip on the blade, his arm shot out and gave her forearm a karate chop. Shocked to see the blade fly out of her hand she backed up towards the wall behind her. “I don’t want any trouble—I’ve had enough of that for one day.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Tony moved around the desk and saw her eyes widen in fear. “I have no intention of hurting you. Just tell me where my wife is.”

“I have no idea. I told you, she left here hours ago. I have no idea what people do after they leave these premises.”

“What trouble have you had today? What’s with the blood-soaked tissues?”

Small shrugged and her eyes drifted down to the wastepaper basket. “An unhappy associate caught me off-guard this morning.”

“Nice business you run here, if that’s how an associate treats you. Was this before or after Lorne visited you this morning?”

“Before. I repeat: I have no idea where she went after leaving here,” Small told him, appearing to relax a little.

“Answer me this: why would an associate attack you like that? I presume that’s what happened.”

“Because I’m in the wrong line of business, I guess. Like your wife suggested. Please, you have to leave. They watch this place and the punters who come here. If you stay around too long, more trouble will land on my doorstep.”

“Okay, but first you need to tell me who this associate is,” Tony said, thinking what Lorne would’ve asked the woman and where her next line of questioning would have likely taken her.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Tony pinned the woman against the wall. “No more Mr. Nice Guy, lady. Tell me who the associate is—now.”

Small’s arms tried to release Tony’s forearm from pinching her throat but her efforts proved to be useless. In a croaky voice, she gave him the name. “Roger North.”

Tony stepped back, and Small immediately rubbed at her neck. “Have you got an address for him?”

Small shook her head warily. “No, only a mobile number.”

“Let me have it.”

Small scrolled through the Rolodex on her desk, plucked out a card, and handed it to Tony. He wrote down the number on a pad and then pocketed the piece of paper.

“Thanks for your help. For your sake and mine, you’d be wise to keep your mouth shut about my visit.”

Small nodded her understanding and Tony left the office. The first thing he did was ring Lorne’s father. “Sam, Lorne and Katy left the agency hours ago. The woman had a visit from one of her associates who attacked her.”

“Shit. What are you going to do now, Tony?”

“Here’s the thing: the associate was Roger North. Angela North’s husband.”

“Please tell me you’re on your way to his house.”

“That was my intention, yes. I’ve only got a mobile number for him, though. Can you check in the diary for the address? I’m sure Lorne wrote it in there. If she didn’t, can you give Jade a call? Try the diary first; I don’t want to cause Jade any unnecessary concern at this point.”

“Righto, hold on a mo’.”

Tony drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited.

“Here you go.” Lorne’s father relayed the address and then said, “Let me know what happens when you get there, Tony. Be careful.”

“Just as a precaution, if you don’t hear from me within the next hour, call the police and send them to the Norths’ house.”

“I’ll do that.”

Tony hung up and pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator.

He pulled into the drive and knocked on the front door. Receiving no answer, Tony took the path around the side of the house. When he reached the back of the house, he looked through the French doors and was surprised to find a middle-aged woman sitting in a winged chair with her arms wrapped around her knees. He tapped lightly on the French doors and she leapt out of her seat in fright.

She wiped away the tears that glistened on her cheek, her voice shook when she shouted, “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m looking for my wife, Lorne Warner.”

The woman quickly ran to the door and pushed it back. “Oh thank God. I didn’t know what to do…‌my husband will kill me if he finds out…‌but those poor women.”

“Whoa! Now hold on a minute; you’re not making sense. Has Lorne been here today?”

“Yes…‌yes, she was here with another woman several hours ago.”

“So they left. Do you know where they went?” Tony felt relieved, but then the fear emanating from the woman’s eyes warned him not to count his chickens just yet.

She collapsed back into the chair and averted her eyes. “They all left.”

“You’re not making any sense. Who?”

“My husband and his
friend
took the three girls.”

Tony’s heart rate spiked and his mouth suddenly went dry. “Who do you mean by three girls?”

“Sorry, I mean women. Lorne, Jai San, and your wife’s friend. They’re in terrible danger. He’s going to kill them. I wanted to ring you, but he threatened to hurt my sister if I contacted you,” Angela said in between sobs.

“Where have they taken them?”

“I don’t know. All this is a shock to me. I knew my husband had a violent streak, but I never dreamed he could be caught up in something like this.”

“You must have an address or something that will lead me to where they have Lorne—please?”

Angela shook her head in frustration. “I don’t, I swear. As far as I knew, my husband worked in the city as an accountant. Imagine my horror when I discovered he was involved in this dreadful business. Why? Why would he do that to these girls? It’s barbaric. Lorne asked me to tell the police. He’d already beat me to a bloody pulp. He’d kill me if I called anyone, but I’ve been sitting here thinking about how these poor women are suffering, and I can’t allow it to happen anymore.”

“I’ll call a friend of mine. You can trust him to help you out of this mess and into protective custody.”

“Would you?”

Tony rang DCI Sean Roberts and explained the situation to him.

“Christ, Tony! I’ll send a couple of my men over. Do you need any help trying to track Lorne down?”

“Yeah, it would help if you got your guys to keep an eye out for them on the streets. We have no idea where…‌Hold on a minute.”

“Tony? What is it?”

“The warehouse. I bet he’s taken them there.” Tony gave Sean the location and asked him to send a couple of squad cars out to the location.

Tony hung up and asked Angela, “Will you be okay by yourself? Is there anyone you can contact to come and sit with you until the police arrive?”

She nodded. “My neighbour can pop over, if you think it’s safe for her to do so.”

“That I can’t guarantee. Maybe you should go to her house. The police are on their way; odds are they’ll be here within ten minutes or so.”

“I’ll see you out and then go and see her. Thank you, and I’m so sorry about your wife. She’s a brave lady.”

Before Tony could ask her what she meant, his mobile rang. “Hello?”

“Tony, thank God. It’s Carol Lang.”

Tony gave Angela a brief wave and then got into his car. He watched the woman disappear through an archway in her hedge, then turned his attention back to Carol. “Sorry, Carol. I’m kind of in a rush.”

“I know, dear, and rush, you must. I fell asleep in the chair after lunch and woke up with a start. Lorne’s deceased partner, Pete, contacted me—can you believe that? The cynic of all cynics contacting me.”

Tony sighed heavily. “Carol, please get on with it, Lorne’s life is in danger.”

“I know, I know. He told me. What he said was a little hazy, so bear with me.”

“I’m listening.” Tony fidgeted in his seat and started the engine.

“He gave me tall railings. Huge buildings. Busy during the day, but silent at night,” Carol told him.

“The warehouse. I had the same inkling. Thanks, Carol, that reinforces my idea.”

He put the van into gear and released the handbrake, ready to drive off, but what Carol said next made him shudder. “Tony,
listen
to me. Lorne is in mortal danger. She’s no longer at the warehouse.”

“Then where the fuck is she?” Tony demanded. He slapped the palm of his hand across the steering wheel.

“I don’t know, dear. I wish I did. Would you like me to come over to the house? Something might come to me, and we’ll be able to act upon it straight away if I’m there with you.”

“I’m out and about, Carol. Sam’s back at the house, if you want to go over there. I think I’ll go and take a look at the warehouse just in case. Not that I don’t believe you, but I might find something over there that’ll tell me where they’ve taken Lorne and Katy.”

“My goodness, Katy is with her, too? Pete didn’t tell me there was anyone else involved. I’ll get over to your house as soon as I possibly can. Does Sam know?”

“He knows that Lorne is missing, yes. He’s feeling under the weather lately, so it might be a good idea if one of us was back there with him. Thanks, Carol. I’ll ring the house if I find anything out.”

The next call he made was to Sam. It was of the hardest calls he had ever had to prepare himself for, and throughout the call, his foot kept moving up and down on the accelerator, making the inside of the van far noisier than normal. At times, Sam had to ask him to repeat himself, which only twisted Tony’s gut ten times harder.

“Sam, listen to me: it’ll be all right. I’m going to contact a couple of friends of mine. We’ll hunt the bastards down if we have to. I’ll make them regret the day they ever messed with either Lorne or myself—that’s if she hasn’t done that already.”

“I am listening, Tony, but being the more cautious amongst us, it won’t stop me from worrying. You say that Carol is on her way over here?” Sam asked.

Tony noticed that during their conversation Sam’s voice had faltered a few times. He hated giving him the unfortunate news over the phone, but keeping the news from Lorne’s father was a definite no-no. They had all made a pact when the business had started up that they would tell each other the truth, no matter how harsh that truth turned out to be.

Tony watched a car pull into the drive. Two men in suits got out and walked his way. “That’s right, Sam. Look, I better go. The police have just turned up at North’s house. I need to have a word with them before I shoot off.”

“Keep me informed, Tony.”

“I will. See you later.”

Tony wound down the window and told the plain-clothed officers that Angela North had just gone next door to her neighbour’s house. He gave a brief rundown of what had happened and suggested that the officers take Angela to the station for her protection, at least for the time being.

The officers agreed and Tony left. On the way, he called an MI5 agent who had helped them out in the past.

“Hey, Weir, how’s it hanging?”

“Warner?” The man laughed. “It’s hanging like a donkey’s, as usual, mate. Not seen any action for months, though, so it’ll be shrivelling up soon enough. Long time no hear. Where have you been?”

Tony gave a brief laugh at the man’s joke and then reprimanded himself as guilt swept through him. “I’ve been around, as they say. Listen, man, I’m in a pickle. Any chance either you or Taylor could help me out on the sly?”

Weir’s voice lowered. “I think we both need to get out of here for a while; the bloody new boss is driving us nuts. Tell me where and when and we’ll meet you.”

Relieved, Tony punched the air. He gave Weir the address to the warehouse and warned him not to do anything until he got there. “We’ll hit it by force, together.”

“In the daylight?” Weir asked surprised.

“If we have to, yes. I’ll see you later.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

A
pproximately thirty minutes later,
Tony parked a few roads away from the warehouse. Unlike the last time he had been here with Lorne, the industrial estate was a thriving and noisy community. Hearing a car door slam behind him, he looked in his rearview mirror and saw two men walking toward the van—Weir and Taylor.

They opened the passenger’s door, Taylor hopped in the back, and Weir sat in the front seat. “Nice wheels,” Weir said sarcastically.

“It does the job. Thanks for coming, guys. The warehouse is around the corner. Last time we were here, the gates, which are like ten feet high, were locked.”

“Have you been to check what the situation is now?” Taylor asked.

Tony shook his head. “Nope, I arrived two minutes ago, thought I’d wait for you guys to get here before proceeding.”

Weir spoke next. “Well, I suggest one of us—either Taylor or myself—ambles by pretending we’re looking for a specific company in the vicinity. Taylor, are you up for it?”

“No probs. On foot, or shall I take the car?”

“Foot would be better,” Tony told him.

Weir let Taylor out and they watched him walk around the corner and out of sight. Neither man spoke again until he returned five minutes later.

This time, Weir jumped in the back and Taylor sat in the passenger’s seat. “Couldn’t see a lot because the gates were shut. I suggest we drive ’round the back of the building, maybe take the next road down, and see if we can gain entry into the unit from there without drawing too much attention to ourselves. The road at the front of the building is far too busy to attempt anything.”