March 15, 9.58 a.m.
Harper stared into Jack Carney’s eyes. A hundred tiny inconsistencies and questions suddenly fell into place. He felt sickness in the pit of his stomach. Disgust so sudden and violent that he couldn’t speak.
‘The gun, Harper, or I kill you.’ Carney eased the trigger back.
Harper heard the click of the breech and he dropped his gun to the ground. His hands formed into large, heavy fists, and hatred and anger burned in his eyes.
‘Tom Harper, I thought you were better than this,’ said Carney.
Harper held his gaze and looked directly into the eyes of the ruthless killer.
‘It’s hard to believe,’ said Carney. ‘Move over to the cell.’
Harper edged backwards. ‘You’re dead, you fucking animal,’ he shouted. ‘You know that? There’s no fucking way out. You’re trapped, Carney, you sick fuck.’
‘Anger and hatred, Harper. You feeling it?’ Carney smiled. ‘This is the killer’s Luger. You were the only one who could work this out,’ he said. ‘I knew you were close but I’m not ready to give in.’
‘They all know,’ said Harper. ‘It’s over. Let these two go.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Carney. ‘Now they’re going to have a big problem on their hands. You went off on your own last night. The story is going to go like this – the killer lured you here and you heroically tried to save the girls. But oh, how close you must’ve come.’
Carney moved across to the canister of Zyklon B. ‘I add these pellets in here, they react with the air and Lucy and Abby will die. You will try to open the door and the killer will shoot you.’
‘It’s a good plan, but people know.’
‘Who?’
‘Everyone.’
‘You sure about that, Harper? Don’t bluff the master.’ Carney chuckled.
‘You got to give yourself up,’ shouted Harper. ‘You need help.’
‘I’ve got a mission, Harper. A mission.’
‘Open the cell,’ Harper commanded, but Carney moved across to the cyanide.
‘Lucy,’ called Harper into the cell. ‘Is there any way out of here?’
She shook her head.
Harper turned and looked at the drained and emaciated figure of Abby in the cell behind him. He smashed his fist against the Plexiglass but it was too thick. It wouldn’t break. He turned and stared at Carney. ‘You can’t do this, you’ve got to stop. You’re a cop.’
Carney took the can across to the small tub. ‘This is the Zyklon B. Everything had to be authentic.’ He smiled. ‘It causes a slow and painful death.’
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘The heart has reasons that reason knows not of,’ said Carney. He turned to Harper and moved close to the Plexiglass. ‘And because I hate them. All of them. Jews, her, you, everyone.’ He opened the canister, pulled back the lid of the plastic bucket.
‘How long will it take them to die?’
‘Ten minutes, a little more,’ said Carney.
They heard the sound of the first pellets hitting the base of the bucket. Harper moved across to the door and barged at it with his full weight. He tried again.
‘You won’t rescue them,’ said Carney. ‘That’s not the story I’ve planned.’
Abby Goldenberg pulled herself to her feet with her last reserves of strength and moved up to the front of the cell. ‘I know what you are!’ she called out.
‘Do you?’ shouted Carney. ‘Well, I’m Josef Sturbe and you’re dead.’
‘Your mother was in touch with Lucy. Did you know that? You think you know everything. You couldn’t find her yourself, but Lucy found her. Lucy told her about the beatings, about the man you’d become. She was disgusted.’
Carney stopped and stared across to the cell. He replaced the lid on the pellets. ‘Fuck you, you’re lying. She’s dead. Fucking dead.’
Lucy was crouched in a corner. ‘She’s not dead, Jack. She’s alive. I met her.’
Jack Carney moved across to the cell. ‘Have you been telling secrets? Did you find my mother?’
Abby’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘She’s the only one who knows where your mother lives. You kill her and you’ll never find her.’
Abby was a smart kid, Harper thought. She was buying time. He looked around. What could he do? The gas ran through hastily welded scaffolding pipes, across and then above him.
‘Where is she?’ said Carney. ‘I want her dead. I want you all dead. Fuck her. It’s too late. It’s too fucking late.’
‘It’s not too late,’ said Abby, drawing breath slowly at each sentence. ‘She’s been living right here in Brooklyn all that time. Knew who you were. She’s been keeping clippings of you, your whole life.’
‘Is this true, Lucy? Speak or you die.’
Lucy nodded.
‘Tell me where she is. She’ll be the next one to die.’ Then Carney looked at them and laughed. ‘You’re both lying. You’ll regret that.’
Carney turned and headed back to the Zyklon B. Harper jumped and grabbed on to the scaffolding pole with both hands. It snapped under his weight. Carney turned and shot. It hit the Plexiglass. Harper swung hard and low. He didn’t want to miss. The pole hit Carney’s legs and he fell. Harper moved to him, but Carney was good. The Luger pointed directly at him. ‘Go on, make another move, Harper.’
Harper stopped. ‘You’re not going to gas them, you fucking freak. You can shoot us all, but your sick little experiment isn’t going to work.’
Carney pulled himself up from the floor. ‘I don’t care a damn for her! Lucy, you understand? Fuck you all. Fuck her. I’ll show you. I’ll show her too. I’m going to be written about for years.’ He pointed the gun at Harper’s face.
Then at the door, he heard a shout. ‘Drop your weapon.’ They turned and saw Denise Levene step in the door. She raised her gun. ‘Move away from the bucket, victim,’ she shouted.
Carney let out a laugh. ‘You too.’ His hand started to turn.
‘Don’t try it, victim!’ she told him.
Carney saw her fear and smiled. ‘You wouldn’t dare – that’s your problem, isn’t it?’
‘Try me,’ she said. Denise remembered everything Mac had told her. She wasn’t afraid; she was the hunter – not him. She fired, two quick rounds, into the wall. Carney’s hand stopped moving. ‘Drop the weapon.’
‘You don’t want to kill your beloved detective, do you, Dr Levene?’ sneered Carney. ‘You shoot me and I’ll put a bullet through his head.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Denise. ‘It’s over now. We know – Blue Team knows. They’re on their way. We found you, Jack. We traced the book on Sturbe, traced your lending record. It’s all there. Jack Carney’s self-hatred. The Jew who couldn’t stand to be a Jew.’
‘Fuck you,’ said Carney.
‘And you know what, Carney? We understand how it happened.’
‘What do you understand?’ ‘You were searching for your mommy, weren’t you? That lovely Jewish woman who abandoned you. The one who gave you your Jewish blood then dumped you on a group of Gentiles. Confusing for a kid, wasn’t it? It’s not unusual, Jack, to become obsessed, to identify with your attackers, to try to destroy the part of yourself you think they hate. You’re not a special case, you’re just a boy who didn’t grow up properly – not emotionally. You learned to hate yourself.’
‘So clever and so wrong.’
‘Really? We found your mother, Jack. She borrowed the same books as you. Every book you read, she read a week later. She was looking out for you all that time. Must’ve been watching you. Desperate to contact you, but scared. Her name was Hannah Sternberg.’
‘Sternberg?’
‘She left you when you were five. I guess what happened was that you only vaguely remembered her name. There weren’t any adoption records. That’s partly why your parents hated your Jewishness. What they did was illegal: take a child off a twenty-year-old Jewish girl with no other options. So you searched for your mother, didn’t you? For a name you could only half-remember. Sterne, Sterne-be. Sturbe. You came across this Nazi, and he made sense to you, right? You thought it was some incredible truth about you. And you devoured it and replaced all that loss and pain with this monster.’
Jack looked shaken. He stepped backwards. He was finding it hard to take in. ‘Is she alive?’
‘She wants to see you, Jack.’
Carney lowered his head. ‘It’s too late,’ he spat. ‘It’s way too late for that Jewish whore to save you, any of you. I’m going to make you all pay for this. I’m going to finish this for good. I must complete the transformation. I have it all planned. There is nothing else to do.’ He fired suddenly without lifting his head. The bullet hit the door. Denise threw herself against the wall. It was enough. Carney rose quickly, pushed past her and darted out of the lock-up.