Liam dragged Kieran while Pia held her pistol to his head. Mr. Bling had too many tricks up his sleeve for her to relax. The lightning had moved north and taken most of the rain with it. A fine, refreshing mist still fell. When emergency lights appeared through the surrounding hedges, she tugged Kieran’s leash and stopped.
She said, “Did you guys kill Krueger because he wouldn’t pay?”
He sneered at her.
“We’ve got you cold on enough crimes to wreck your life as it is. I’m just asking out of professional curiosity.” She pushed in close to his face. “You tried to kill me three times and I won every time. I’d like to know if you were just some idiot they pulled off the street, or a professional. A pro would know things, even if they kept him in the dark. So tell me, did you guys kill Krueger because he wouldn’t pay?”
“Wouldnae tell me if that was the case. Viper was right pissed at the Morpheus for letting him have a go at the machine, though.”
Pia considered the timing. Viper/Walker and the Rohans couldn’t have clear lines of communication or the firewall between them would be easy to crack. When the three-way system finally revealed that Krueger hadn’t paid, Walker took him out.
“Why did you guys attack us at Claigeann Cottage?” she asked.
“At that plod’s funeral, Viper saw them Morpheus people talking to you. Then they sent word they’d bring you in. Viper called me right after. Worked up something awful.” Kieran snickered. “He thought you’d crack them before they cracked you. He didnae have time for his usual methods, so he hired us on.”
Ten Derbyshire police cars arrived, and constables started piling out.
“Viper and Cobra had a falling out after your attack at the cottage.”
“Aye, Cobra was not happy about that. Thought it made too much noise.”
“Why did you kill Eden-Sonnet?”
Kieran said, “That’s when Cobra stepped in. Thought Viper had exposed us all. Cobra expected Eden-Sonnet to go clyping to the plods—”
“Talking to the cops,” Liam translated.
“—while you and your people were getting a wee bit nosy.”
“Walker, aka Viper, was there, at Eden-Sonnet’s place. Why?”
“Tried talking us out of it. He and Cobra were having a row about it. I do what they pay me for. And Cobra’s the one with the money.”
That made sense to Pia; mercenaries always went to the highest bidder. She asked, “Tindall told us you were in it from the beginning, is that right?”
“Aye.” Kieran looked her over suspiciously. “When they need me.”
Pia had the picture now. Albert started out making appointments for the podcast, but Walker didn’t want to be connected to the Morpheus operation once he branched out. He used Kieran to draft Albert for that part of the operation, and that allowed him to keep Albert in the dark.
She asked, “I still don’t understand why Skilling—I mean, Cobra—wanted to kill Viper.”
“I donnae know, but I reckon he’s clearing out. Getting done with loose ends. Him with all the money.”
That made sense too. Pia knew that meant the last piece of this puzzle, the one guy they hadn’t yet identified, was skipping town.
Chief Constable Sumithra Swann joined them.
“Heard there was another gunfight,” she said. “People really don’t like you much, do they?”
“Here’s the man who killed Chloe England,” Pia said. “I don’t need his admiration.”
Sumithra nodded her approval while three of her people began the process of arresting Mr. Bling.
An ambulance drove by them on the grass, going around the scattered shot-up cars. Abby had the loading dock open and they backed into it.
Pia and Liam headed for the greenhouse. She put her arm around him and squeezed. He reciprocated. She stopped and pulled him into a long kiss. It felt good to feel him close. To feel his arms encircle her. To see his smile. Those green eyes.
When they broke it off, he said, “It’s a wee bit easier to kiss you when you’re not holding a gun to a man’s head whilst I do it. Are ye alright, then?”
He pulled back, still holding her arms, and looked her over. He tilted his head wistfully. “Aye, no bad looking, bruises and all.”
She pulled him back and said, “I didn’t mean to piss you off, you know.”
“I shouldnae have reacted so harshly. I’m sorry. My first time being accused of murder and all.”
“Yes, it’s a hard thing to handle. It was necessary, though. We have to eliminate all possibilities to be certain—”
“Your man Tanner said, ‘You’re innocent until proven guilty but everybody’s a suspect.’ That’s a right paranoid way to operate. I’ll not say I like it.”
Pia almost recited Stearne’s Law: Paranoia is the result of acute situational awareness. Everyone really is trying to kill you. But decided against it. Liam was not in a good mood about her trust issues.
She changed the subject. She asked, “What does crabbit mean?”
“A what?” He glanced at her as they walked through the jumble of bullet-riddled cars.
“You said I was a crabbit lass.”
“Oh, what I told that fella?” They stopped next to the McLaren. “Uh … well. It means a bit bad-tempered. Sorry. Just wanted him to cooperate.”
“Fits her, though,” Abby said as she jogged to them. “You made it, Sabel.” Abby smashed into Pia and wrapped her arms around her. Tears slipped from her eyes as she looked up. “You lived through it. I was scared for you. I thought that bastard was going to get us all. But we made it! We’re alive!”
“Surviving is a rush, right?” Pia said.
Abby pushed back a step. “Like winning a championship.”
In that moment, they understood each other. Abby had her figured out. Out of the game and missing the adoration of screaming fans, Pia survived on danger for that self-affirming high. Not that she’d ever admit it to Dr. Harrison. Abby looked horrified and amazed at the same time. Mostly horrified.
For a moment, Pia felt like a drug addict who’d been exposed. It wasn’t too far from the truth, as she thought about it. She was addicted to adrenaline. Unable to look at her friends, she swept chunks of safety glass from the McLaren’s engine compartment.
“You drove that all the way up from London?” Liam asked.
“An agent drove it for her,” Abby said. “She took the jet. That’s how her kind do things.”
“Aye, might be time for another French Revolution,” Liam laughed.
Pia said, “I was going to raffle it off for the Chloe England Foundation.”
“Shame for the Foundation,” Liam said.
“I’ll have the factory send another.” Pia sighed.
“Just don’t drive the new one,” Abby laughed. “Everything you touch gets used for target practice.”
Pia gave Abby a hug. “Thanks for keeping that sniper cowed behind the chimney. With a little training, you’d make a great agent.”
“Oh no,” Abby backed away with her hands up. “I’m sticking with horticulture. Until you came along, it was right boring. Boring’s not so bad now that I’ve seen the option.”
Liam nosed at three figures coming out of the greenhouse. “Who’s this one? What’s his role in this?”
Tanner and the guy whose name Pia never learned marched Wayne Walker toward them.
“All of it,” Pia said. “He dreamed up the whole thing only to have his financial guy turn on him. Typical of capitalist corporations. No matter how things are going, there’s always a palace intrigue.”
“If history’s any gauge, it happens a wee bit in monarchies too.”
A group of constables met them. Pia held a hand up to the PCs, asking for a moment. She faced Walker and asked, “You were hiding in the bushes like a fan watching a game this whole time?” When he didn’t answer, she asked, “What was it like cowering in the cold, hoping your man—who lost to me twice already—would win the title fight?”
He looked her over with disdain. “No comment.”
“Pretty diabolical plan you put together. How many people did you kill?”
“No comment.”
“Ever hear of Andrew Grove?”
“No.”
“He wrote a book called, Only the Paranoid Survive. You should’ve paid attention, cause your finance guy turned on you. Skilling stole your money and your mercenaries. He paid Kieran £200,000 to kill you.”
“No comment.” He sounded petulant.
“It’ll be a sign of cooperation if you give us his name. I know it isn’t Skilling.”
“No. Comment.”
“Maybe you’re under the mistaken impression he still has my £5 million. News flash: Bethany, my financial expert, traced every penny through every bank. We have all the accounts flagged. Even in Luxembourg. Even yours.”
“Did you say £5 million?”
Pia nodded and took pride in watching the color drain from his face. She took only a few seconds before letting the PCs have their man.
Out of the dark came a figure with a purposeful and confident stride. He approached Pia and demanded, “Where is DI Jeff Benton?”
“Just in time, Superintendent Martin,” she said. “The shooting is over. Benton is clinging to life in the back of that ambulance. For an update on the organized crime syndicate Benton took down—without your help—you’re better off talking to Chief Constable Swann. She’s that way.”
Pia pointed. Martin looked at her suspiciously as if she were making fun of him. He looked up the hill, where the Derbyshire Police had set up an operations center with lights and a tent. He looked back at the greenhouse, its many shattered panes, and the EMTs working inside. His gaze moved to the destroyed cars, and the torn metal and glass scattered around them. He faced Pia again. “Well. Ms. Swann seems to have things well in hand.”
He walked in the direction of the Derbyshire ops tent, giving it wide berth, and headed back to his car.
Inside the greenhouse, two EMTs and PC McDonald rolled a gurney out of the office with Tania on top. She whacked at one of them. “Stop, I need to talk to this lady.”
She turned to Pia. “Did you get anything out of Walker?”
“Just a moment to relish the smug taste of victory. Nothing about Skilling.”
“Me either. Did you—”
“Bloody hell, Cooper,” Abby said. “You’ve got a hole in your leg. Let them take you to casualty. Don’t muck about chatting all night.”
Tania stared at her for a long, silent moment. Then turned to Pia. “Tell Chef to send me her recipe for popovers. Ima whip me up some and take them to Benton. He’s going to be OK, they said. It’ll take a while to graft new bones for his ribcage, but he’s going to live.”
“Did they give her some of that funny medicine?” Abby asked PC McDonald. When he shook his head, she said, “Shouldn’t you be on your way then?”
“Oh, I see how it is with you, Stokes,” Tania said. “This is a whites-only greenhouse. Fine, I think it stinks like dead frog in here anyway. C’mon McD, get me outta here. Now that you’re one of the good guys, you can ride with me.”
They pushed her into the ambulance. PC McDonald hopped in back with Benton and Tania. The techs closed the doors and drove away.
“She didn’t mean it, did she?” Abby asked. “She was having me on about that racist thing, right?”
“She likes you enough to joke about it.”
“Oh good,” Abby said. “I mean there’s some painful truth in that. The Royal U’s horticulture department is all white and all female. I’m the whole department.”
Bethany came running in, straight to Abby. “Are you all right? I heard on the radio. Are you hurt?”
Abby wrapped her up in a hug. “Hurt all over. But you can kiss it and make it better.”
“Speaking of which.” Liam pulled Pia in. “You’ve got a new scrape just there. Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
He kissed her laceration.
“Um, there’s another one right here.”