Whisper For The Reaper, Jack Gatland [good books for high schoolers txt] 📗

with a piece of plywood, a torn scrap of framing, but large enough to do some damage. Karl ducked away from most of the blow, but the torn edge of the wood slammed him hard in the forehead and now, bleeding from the cut he stumbled back.

‘Just shut up,’ Declan said, moving in once more. ‘Shut up and damn well die.’

Karl’s face was ashen now as he realised that this could actually be a fight he was going to lose.

‘Your daughter by now is arrested or worse,’ Declan continued. ‘Your CIA friends haven’t turned up, and the police aren’t here to finish this. I’m here to finish this. Here—‘

He pulled a business card out of his pocket. It was one of his Temple Inn ones, and on the back was a stick man with a scythe, drawn in blue ink. He tossed it to Karl.

‘Pick it up,’ he hissed. ‘Let’s start a new cult. The Blue Executioner. Doesn’t have the same ring as yours, but hell, I only intend to use it once.’

Karl raised up his straight razor, but Declan kicked out at the hand, sending the blade clattering across the carpark tarmac. Walking to the syringe, Declan picked it up, turning back to Karl.

‘Time for an overdose, you son of a bitch,’ he snarled as he walked back towards Karl, now trying to back away while still in a sitting position.

‘Wait!’ Karl begged. ‘We can talk about this!’

‘Did the others beg?’ Declan asked. ‘Did you hear their pleas? Did you ignore them? Force them to die?’ He tossed the syringe over to Karl, where it came to a rest against his thigh.

‘Your American friends aren’t coming,’ Declan smiled darkly. ‘I called in a favour. You’re more good to them gone than still around.’

‘I will make sure they—‘

‘Stop!’ Declan screamed. ‘Don’t you get it? I’m not arresting you! The name Karl Schnitter will never be spoken again after tonight! You’re gone, forgotten, removed!’ He pointed at the syringe.

‘That’s your only honourable way out. To do what others did before you. To accept the ruling of the Red Reaper and kill yourself.’

Karl stared at the syringe, at the death within it, and shook his head.

‘No,’ he whispered as he tossed it aside. ‘I will not play this game. Arrest me and let us get this over with.’

From the bridleway there was the sound of a car arriving at speed, and Doctor Marcos’ Mercedes skidded into view as almost before it stopped, Monroe, Freeman and Doctor Marcos emerged from it, running towards the two men.

‘Don’t do it, Declan!’ Freeman shouted. ‘We’ve got Jess. She’s safe. And Ilse is under lock and key.’

Declan turned back to Karl to see him smiling.

‘And now the police are here, and normality returns,’ he said gratefully, climbing painfully to his feet, holding his hands out. ‘Please, arrest me.’

Monroe went to walk forward, but Freeman halted him.

‘We can’t,’ he muttered. ‘The CIA has claimed him the moment we place handcuffs on him. He won’t see a moment of prison time.’

‘Then what do we do?’ Monroe snapped as Karl laughed.

‘You could let me go free?’ he suggested. But Declan simply smiled again as, in the distance, they could hear another vehicle approaching.

‘Not happening,’ he said as a grey van pulled into the car park, looking remarkably like the one that had abducted Declan a couple of days earlier. It pulled up beside Karl and stopped, the side doors opening and three men leaping out, grabbing him by the arms.

‘Wait!’ Karl cried out. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I second that!’ Monroe joined in. ‘What the hell is this, Declan?’

The driver’s side door opened and Tom Marlowe emerged, nodding to Monroe.

‘It’s justice, uncle,’ he said simply. ‘Justice for all that were killed, in particular Christine and Patrick Walsh.’ He turned to the terrified Karl.

‘Hello, Wilhelm,’ he said with a relaxed grin. ‘We have some people who want to chat to you in a deep, dark, government black site. And we have some German buddies who are mightily pissed that you shot one of their own. They’ve asked for some pounds of flesh, too.’

‘When my friends hear what you’ve done to me—‘ Karl started, but stopped when Declan put up a finger to stop him.

‘How will they hear?’ he asked. ‘Seriously. Tell me. I won’t be telling anyone about tonight. As far as I’m concerned, and as my report will state, you escaped and left your daughter to rot in prison.’ He looked to Freeman. ‘We’ll leave the case open, the CIA won’t be able to argue it, and justice will be served.’

Monroe also looked at Freeman. ‘You okay with this?’ he asked. To his surprise, Freeman nodded.

‘I don’t have to be okay with it,’ he replied calmly. ‘Because when we got here, Declan was alone. Isn’t that right, DCI Monroe?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be DCI much longer,’ Monroe said. ‘But, if I’m going to be kicked out for doing something against the rules, this is a pretty solid one to do.’ He looked at Doctor Marcos. ‘You?’

‘I’m only happy with this, if you send me pictures of what you do to him,’ Doctor Marcos said to Marlowe, who nodded.

‘That can be arranged,’ he said, nodding to the three men who pulled the kicking and screaming Karl into the van. Declan walked up to the door, facing his one-time friend.

‘You helped me when I needed you, so I will never forget that,’ he said. ‘That’s the only reason I didn’t kill you tonight. That, and that the amount of pain and suffering you’ll endure for the rest of your life will be punishment enough for the people you killed.’

He looked to Marlowe.

‘Make sure it’s a long life,’ he ordered. ‘I didn’t give him to you, to make Ilse an orphan.’

Marlowe nodded, climbing into the van and, with a last wink to Monroe, he started up the engine.

‘Laddie,’ Monroe walked up to the window. ‘Tell her… tell her I hope she’s happy, and if she is, I’m glad.’

Marlowe grinned.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen