Flick took out the news story she had printed at a library weeks earlier. She had read it so often that the paper print was creased and smudged.
TERRORIST FOUND BUTCHERED
By Louise Beech
Police have confirmed body parts discovered in a car in Manchester belong to terrorist Charlie Nicholls.
A post-mortem could not confirm how Britain’s most wanted man was killed due to ‘significant sections of his body being missing’.
A source told the Online Post: ‘It appears he was torn apart by a mob that forced his car off the road, in the hope that they might get a share of the £500,000 government reward for his capture.
‘Both feet, his torso and a hand have been passed to the police but his head, legs, an arm and fingers have yet to be located.’
Nine people also died in gunfire that afternoon, in a shootout police believe to be between rival bounty hunters.
No matter how many times Flick read it, it didn’t lessen the impact of his manner of death. And once again she shed a tear in memory of the only Minder she had ever met.
Flick had made her most recent home a rented caravan in a park on the outskirts of Bude. She’d been careful to choose one located away from the other static homes and fitted her own electronic locks to the windows and doors along with an alarm system. Each of the four rooms and even the bathroom contained a hunting knife with a serrated blade that was within easy reach. She had alsoscoped the surrounding area for exits, parking her car in a nearby street that could be approached from five different directions. She had done all she could to protect herself, her secrets and her baby.
Taking a swig from a bottle of fruit juice, she slipped her hands inside her jacket pockets and rubbed her stomach. Not so long ago, she’d have berated herself for showing her baby affection. Now it was second nature and she hoped it offered him or her as much comfort as it did its mother. At more than four months pregnant, her belly now displayed a definite paunch and it appeared to be growing as the library textbooks suggested it would by now. But a transient lifestyle and a complete mistrust towards all things official and traceable meant she had yet to book hospital scans or register with a midwife.
The swell of the waves crashed against the cliff’s rocks below. They were more aggressive than Aldeburgh’s waters and she missed the latter’s calming rhythms. She tried not to dwell upon those she’d left behind, or the hurt she had caused to Elijah. But solitude gave her plenty of thinking time and made it difficult not to linger on anything else. Distance had given her clarity; what she had done to Elijah was unforgivable and she prayed his injuries weren’t serious. But at the time, she felt she had little choice. He paid the price for her panic. She wondered what he thought of her now and whether he hated her as much as she hated herself. Grace wasn’t far from her mind either. In a short space of time, they’d become close.
Flick decided that despite what had happened to Charlie, she was safer out in the open than if she turned herself in to a government which had slapped a reward on her head. She would remain in the field for as long as possible, or at least another few months until the child was born. She did not trust the baby’s safety with authorities.
As much as she appreciated Cornwall’s solitude and privacy, Flick longed to return to Aldeburgh. She acceptedthat it had been a manufactured, false reality, but her feelings towards the place and its people were honest. She was merely going through the motions in Cornwall, filling her days with long walks whilst avoiding anywhere densely populated, and her nights with books she’d always wanted to read. But it was little better than when she hid herself away in her London flat.
She tugged her hood so that it covered her forehead, and continued to explore a wet and grassy Morwenstow. But when the drizzle turned to rain, she went back to her car. She hovered at the edge of the car park first, scoping the other vehicles until assured it was safe to return to her own. She ran her fingertips along the undercarriage, wheel arches and sills to check for tracking devices. Then she confirmed the memory-card slot in the satnav was still empty before the engine sparked to life.
Suddenly, she felt it – the phone in her pocket was vibrating. Each of the three times it had done this before, it had contained footage of a Minder’s murder. Charlie was the last video to have been sent, although he appeared dead before the silver device that killed the others plunged into his skull. And no name had been carved into his forehead.
She could only assume that after a ten-week gap, it was alerting her to the death of another Minder. How many of them were left? Flick’s heart raced as she turned off the engine and removed the device. Just as she feared, the red circle disclosed that it was another video clip. She gripped the phone, opened its case and pressed play without allowing herself to think.
This time it was different. The camerawork was shaky, indicating that the killer was on the move. It was hard to tell where they were as the lens was pointed towards a cobbled pathway before eventually coming to a halt at a porch. Flick’s heart sank when it focused on a front door that she immediately recognised. It was Grace’s house.
She watched helplessly as a hand reached out to ring a bell. A moment later, it opened. Grace was standing there, unaware she was being filmed. ‘Hi,’ she began. ‘Can I help you?’
The voice that replied was an unfamiliar woman’s. ‘Hi there, do you have any rooms available, please?’
‘Say no, say no, say no,’ Flick whispered.
‘Yes, we do,’ Grace replied as Flick held her breath. Grace opened the door with a friendly ‘Follow me,’ and the woman entered. ‘We have three different types,’ continued Grace, with her back to the guest. Two of them come with en-suites and the other—’
Grace wasn’t given the opportunity to finish. Flick watched helplessly as a weapon fired hundreds of volts of electricity into Grace’s neck, before her friend crumpled to the floor.
Chapter 82
EMILIA
Grace’s breaths were short and shallow as she lay sprawled across the floor. The current that had soared through her body moments ago had left her completely incapacitated. Her eyes were open but she was barely blinking.
The distance between the Emilia who awoke frightened and unaware of who she was and the woman right now were too far apart to be measured. It didn’t matter what Bruno had believed, shehadn’tbeen given a choice, shehadbeen pushed into this. It was the actions of others that had conspired to turn her into a merciless hunter. Grace was more collateral damage in her search for the truth.
According to the magnets stuck to Karczewski’s fridge and by a process of elimination, Flick’s last known location had been narrowed down to the small coastal town. By publicly identifying her, the government had ensured every amateur detective and his dog had converged on Aldeburgh. The pub where she’d worked, the church hall where she exercised, her artist ex-boyfriend and the bed and breakfast she’d made her home had all been deluged with visitors, each hoping to be the one to bring Flick out of hiding. But she was still very much a free woman.
Emilia’s initial search of the town and its people ten weeks earlier proved fruitless. But Emilia was convinced that wherever her target was residing now, Flick wouldn’t be able to stay there for ever. She’d maintained a job and made friends in Aldeburgh; she had put down roots there so it was likely she’d left hurriedly and reluctantly. Perhaps there was a way she could be persuaded to return?
Fortunately, the public’s fervour to find Flick had curtailed since the government had rescinded its reward following the aftermath of Charlie’s death. As a result, Emilia approached Bianca and Adrian, urging them to deploy another team to sweep through the town again and hunt for leads that might have evaded them first time around. Bianca had been reluctant to allow Emilia any involvement after the shootings. She was ‘mentally unstable’ and ‘a danger to herself and everyone around her’, apparently. By the time she eventually convinced them, the town was less saturated.
