The Invisible Assassin(59)

‘Yes,’ said Jake. ‘I love her. I was stupid with the way I behaved at that wedding, and I’ve regretted it every day since. I want to make things right again.’

‘You already have done,’ said Robert. ‘Whatever happens.’ He looked towards the abandoned warehouse. ‘Ready?’

‘No,’ admitted Jake. ‘I feel sick, I feel scared.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. So let’s do it.’





Chapter 27




Jake walked across the patch of tarmac towards the warehouse. He guessed that once there would have been lorries and cars parked here. Now it seemed to be used as a dumping ground for rubbish. Broken wooden pallets lay around, where they had been dropped or thrown. Black bags filled with litter had just been dumped and had split, with paper and other rubbish spilling out.

There’ll be rats, thought Jake. He remembered reading somewhere that in London you were never more than three metres from a rat. That usually meant that the rat was underground, below you, but in cases like this he guessed the rats were living in the old warehouse, scavenging and breeding. He was sure he saw a movement among the piles of torn litter bins. Jake hated rats. The fact of them sent a shiver up his spine. They could get anywhere, through the most incredibly narrow gaps. And their teeth were so sharp they could gnaw through porcelain. He’d heard tales of them chewing their way through a toilet bowl to get into a flat to scavenge for food.

Most of the doors into the building were shut with metal bars locked down across them, but one door was slightly ajar. That’s the way they want me to go in, thought Jake.

He wondered where Robert was. Robert had gone off to the far side of the building, looking for a window or an opening so he could creep in unnoticed. Even if he did manage to get in unseen, it only gave them a force of two. Two unarmed amateurs against armed and fully prepared professionals.

Jake reached the door and pushed it gently. It swung open. From inside, there was a dim light glowing. He wondered where they’d be. Waiting for him just inside the door, ready to pounce on him? He reached down and picked up a nearby plastic bag filled with litter that had been left lying near the doorway, and then tossed it through the door opening.

Nothing happened. No one shot at the bag, or jumped on it. But then, these people were professionals. Jake guessed they knew what they were doing.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, and walked in through the doorway, into the warehouse.

It wasn’t empty. It may have been disused, but it was still stacked with machinery and crates, all covered with dust and cobwebs. It had been a very long time since this place had been active.

‘Welcome, Mr Wells!’ boomed a voice. ‘We are glad you could join us! Come forward!’

‘I’m armed!’ called out Jake in warning.

There was a chuckle, then the voice said, ‘We think that unlikely, Mr Wells. I doubt if you’ve ever handled a gun, before or now.’

‘I don’t need a gun!’ called back Jake. He took a deep breath, then tried his bluff. ‘I’ve wired myself with explosives under my clothes. If you shoot me, I’ll blow up and we’ll all be killed.’ There, thought Jake. I’ve come up with a plan. Mad, perhaps, but it’s still a plan.

There was a pause, then the voice laughed again.

‘Really, Mr Wells . . .’

But Jake was sure this time the laugh wasn’t as confident.

‘Since this started I’ve met some dodgy people,’ called Jake. ‘Believe me, I’m wired to blow up.’

There was a pause, then the voice asked, ‘You have the book with you?’

‘Yes,’ called Jake. ‘And if you shoot me and I blow up, the book goes up in flames.’

‘There is no need for that,’ said the voice. ‘Come forward. With your hands above your head, please.’

Jake hesitated, then edged slowly forward, hands raised, expecting at any moment a shot to ring out. None came. Had they bought his bluff? Penny Johnson had said he was a useless liar. He hoped this would prove her wrong.

There was a clearing in the centre of the warehouse. As Jake moved slowly into the clearing, he looked around at the piles of crates stacked up and the large, idle machines; all offered places where these people could be hiding, guns trained on him.

‘Where’s Lauren?’ he called.

There was the sound of scuffling, and then two men appeared from behind a pile of crates. They wore black balaclava helmets covering their faces. Both of them held pistols which they pointed at Jake. There was more scuffling, then Lauren appeared, pushed forward by a third man, his face also covered with a balaclava. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was tape across her mouth.