Hunter Hunted, Jack Gatland [good story books to read .txt] 📗

was the first to Declan, checking his shoulder.

‘It’s gone right through,’ she said. ‘Lucky bastard.’

‘I don’t feel lucky,’ Declan groaned.

‘So what now,’ Anjli asked. ‘Is Declan cleared yet?’

Bradbury shook his head. ‘We have a confession and proof that Walsh didn’t attack his DCI, but we still have the fact that he clandestinely met with a potential terrorist, and still could have been connected to her murder, a fact that, with the potential alternatives for the murderer all dead causes a bit of an upset.’

‘They’re not all dead, sir,’ Billy replied, already working his way through Frost’s phone. ‘Sutcliffe made calls to Gladwell on a burner phone, the same number that sent a message to Frost, demanding that he gain a password from Declan. We have the message here, along with quite a few others.’

‘What do we know about this number?’ Monroe asked.

‘We’re getting data on where it’s been over the last few days,’ Billy replied. ‘We’ll know in an hour everywhere it went.’

‘And we know Gladwell named Rattlestone back at the beginning, and held their secrets,’ Declan groaned as they helped him up, holding his shoulder while the officers pulled out a medical pack from the truck. ‘He knows I changed the combination. He’ll know that I’m after him. He’ll try to change the narrative again. And there’s only one person left he can frame.’

Doctor Marcos was now working on his shoulder with the kit as she spoke. ‘Charles Baker.’

Bradbury considered this. ‘So, what do you want to do about it?’ he asked. Declan forced a smile, but it turned into a wince as Doctor Marcos worked on his shoulder.

‘I’d like to—Jesus, woman!—I’d like to be the one that brings him in,’ he replied. ‘For Kendis. And besides, it’s a bit of a ritual now, me saving Charles Baker.’

Bradbury looked to the others. ‘I can’t in good faith let this man, injured and still suspected of terrorism, go after an elected Parliamentary Official,’ he said. ‘Unless one of you vouches for him?’

Anjli, Billy, Bullman and Monroe all stepped forward as one.

‘They attacked our Unit,’ Monroe said. ‘We all want him.’

‘Well,’ Bradbury smiled. ‘You’d better go find him, then.’

32

D E C L A N W A L S H

Charles Baker was pacing around his desk when Malcolm Gladwell returned to his office.

‘What the hell do you want now?’ Gladwell asked, looking around, seeing that the office was empty. ‘Do you want people to think we’re complicit? Stop bloody calling my office to get me to meet with you! Christ, we’ve spoken more today than we have since the last election!’

‘The press are hounding me!’ Charles snapped back. ‘The news about Laurie and Will’s deaths is out now. I need to divert it away from me.’

Gladwell paused. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘You’re falling apart. Get a grip.’

‘Look, all I need is some help with the story I’m saying,’ Charles added. ‘That’s it.’

Gladwell sat in the chair opposite Charles, looking up at the ceiling as he let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Pour me a drink then,’ he said. ‘Let’s work it out.’

Charles pulled a bottle of expensive brandy out of his bottom drawer, pouring the amber liquid into two small tumblers. Passing one over to Gladwell, he sat back down, sipping at his drink.

‘Give me the issues,’ Gladwell said.

‘Balkans,’ Charles offered.

‘Simple. You tell them that Will did it,’ Gladwell replied. ‘Thought he could gain influence in Rattlestone, told no one, allowed our offices to fight with one another.’

‘Did he though?’ Charles asked. Gladwell almost spluttered his brandy.

‘Who cares if he did or not?’ he snapped. ‘He’s dead!’

Charles mulled over the idea, eventually nodding.

‘Taylor.’

‘Terrorist.’

‘Come on, Malcolm—‘

‘That’s what we stick to!’ Gladwell exclaimed, almost rising from his chair in anger. ‘Look, your man Harrison created the hatchet file on her with Rattlestone resources. That might come out to bite us, but if it does? We claim it was on him. If it doesn’t? Then we keep the narrative. Even if she wasn’t, she actively began this by speaking to Donna.’

‘And the claims that Donna didn’t kill herself?’ Charles spoke softer now, calmer, watching Gladwell as he replied.

‘Are nothing but claims,’ Gladwell leaned forwards in his chair, bringing his voice down to match. ‘Look, I had a falling out with Donna that day, and so did Will. She wanted to come clean, go to the press. I felt bad; having you push for the Leadership was my idea. The extra press was because of that, and the Taylor woman turned her brain around. I’m sorry it ended the way it did.’

‘Did you kill Taylor?’ Charles asked.

‘Of course not!’ Gladwell decried. ‘Will did it! He told me!’

‘When?’

Gladwell shifted in his chair. ‘We spoke yesterday.’

‘And the attack on DCI Monroe? Was that Will too?’

Gladwell sat still now, observing Charles.

‘This feels more like an interrogation than an ideas exercise,’ he intoned, looking around. ‘Is there something I should know?’

‘Yeah, probably,’ Charles slumped back in his chair, turning to a door leading out of the back of his office.

‘You might as well come in now,’ he said, his voice raised.

Malcolm Gladwell rose as the back door opened and Declan, his right arm in a sling, entered through the door, Monroe following in behind him. ‘What the hell is this?’ he asked.

‘It’s time to end this,’ Charles replied, looking back to the desk. ‘These detectives have some questions for you.’

‘I won’t answer anything without my brief present,’ Gladwell snapped back. Declan shrugged, nodding.

‘I guessed you’d say that, so let me instead tell you some things,’ he suggested. ‘How’s that?’

As Gladwell reluctantly sat back in the chair, Declan walked into the room now, leaning against the wall as he looked at him.

‘I knew Kendis since we were kids,’ he started. ‘So understand that I’m not going to say that it’s nothing personal. It’s incredibly personal.’

Gladwell nodded. ‘I wondered why Frost hadn’t replied to me,’ he said. ‘He was always a wild card. Going off on his own—‘

‘Frost, or whatever his name is? He’s dead, laddie,’ Monroe interjected. ’So I’d