Chapter Twenty-Six

Greg picked up Hector’s mobile phone and switched it on. He waited a few moments while the device powered up. He dialled Terry Bane’s mobile number and waited for him to answer.

‘Terry Bane,’ the voice on the other end answered.

‘Good afternoon, Terry,’ Greg said, adopting his alter ego’s well-spoken tone.

‘Yeah, good afternoon – who’s this?’

‘I’m the one you are looking for.’

‘And why would I be looking for you?’

‘Because I’m making this call on Hector’s phone.’

Terry’s eyes blinked wide, ‘So are you going to hand yourself in? Is that it?’

‘That would take the fun out of the hunt, out of the game, Terry. It’s all part of the game.’

‘What do I call you? You know my name.’

‘Do I need a name? Let me think…’ Greg smirked.

‘Why are you contacting me, shouldn’t you be talking to the police?’ Terry interrupted.

‘Terry, I think you already know that I’m well informed – enough to know that you are working with the police. Though I must say, you are an excellent reporter. I enjoyed your coverage of the Swiss Cottage story.’

‘OK,’ Terry seemed confused.

‘I understand that this must be a bit of a shock. Well, after all I have been involved in a couple of grizzly crimes. That said, I have not killed. The killing, the blood of those whom have perished is on the hands of those in your custody. Murder, well that is the ultimate crime. Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Only if you get away with it. What do you want me to call you?’

‘You can call me “The Ultimate”. How are Sharon and Martin? I hope that you are looking after them both.’

‘Let’s just say that they’ve both had better days. Why them?’

‘Why not them. Brian and Hector selected themselves – I did not select them,’ Greg laughed, ‘as will others. I’m cleansing the streets of London, a job that our finest have failed in.’

‘You will be caught, you know that?’

‘Not if I continue to play the game, using my rules. You won’t catch me, Terry,’ Greg laughed.

‘So, why have you contacted me?’

‘Terry, we are both educated men. I think that, thus far, you know how well I like to plan. I am a slave to detail. I will never leave any trace of my true identity, so I will continue to lead you into a cul-de-sac every time.’

‘How long do you think you can carry on with this… with your reign?’

‘My reign?’ Greg paused, wanting to lead the conversation elsewhere. ‘I would wager good money that the press conference that took place earlier was not something that you wanted? How can these people expect to catch the likes of me, when it is me who is leading the way? Amateurs – don’t you agree Terry?’ Greg snapped.

‘I told them it was a mistake – but it made you want to contact me, break the ice.’

‘Contacting you was something I had planned before the press conference. I watched you at the car park. I saw you with James McFarland – I am everywhere, Terry. I got your number from your voicemail. Just in case you were wondering. Information is easy to attain. If people leave it so readily available,’ Greg giggled, ‘I’ll always be too far ahead of the game Terry.’

‘This is a game to you. Who’s next?’

‘Do you think that the great Hercule Poirot would ask me that question Terry?’

‘I’m not him,’ Terry gritted his teeth. ‘So when do you plan to strike again?’

‘I’m not the detective, you are.’ Greg paused. ‘Pass a message on to James McFarland – what you sow, you shall reap. Thanks for the chat,’ with that Greg ended the conversation.

‘Don’t go…’ Terry cried, but all in vain. Terry quickly dialled McFarland.