John Milton: The Jungle Part 30

"Is there another way out?"

"Through the office," Florin said. "There's a fire door."

"Where's your car?"

"In the car park."

"Keys?"

"In my jacket pocket. Hanging up over there."

There was a large padded leather jacket on a hat stand in the corner of the lobby. Milton took it and emptied the pockets: he found a bunch of keys, a wallet and a mobile phone.

He held the phone out. "Pa.s.scode?"

Florin recited a six-figure combination and, when Milton entered it, the phone unlocked.

"Your father's number?"

"The last number I called."

Milton scrolled to the relevant page and saw an outgoing call from earlier that day. The call was credited to BABA.

He put the items back into the pockets, slipped the jacket on, opened the door, and made his way into the office. The room was dark. There was a single window, but it was covered by a blind and it was dusk outside. There was a single desk with a PC, a keyboard and a mouse, together with a neatly arranged tray of stationery. Milton paused, collected a stapler and slid it into his pocket. He crossed to a door that was opened with a panic bar. Milton edged up to the door and, with the pistol in his right hand, he reached out with his left and pushed down on the bar.

The door swung open. There was a car park outside. A black BMW 750 was parked ten feet away. It was the only vehicle that he could see. He waited for a moment, looking up and down the street beyond the car park. The undertaker's was screened by a wall and several neatly trimmed trees, and he could see a row of illuminated awnings and the occasional car that pa.s.sed by. He didn't recognise the location.

Hicks brought Florin to the door.

There was no sign of anyone outside. No sign that anyone was observing him. No sign that Pasko was still here.

Milton reached for the keys and blipped the lock. The BMW's lights flashed and, with a second press, the powered tailgate began to rise.

Milton ducked down and hurried outside. He made it to the car without incident. Pasko was long gone.

He looked into the trunk. It was s.p.a.cious and offered more than enough room for Florin.

He turned back and gestured that Hicks should bring Florin outside. Milton helped him to manoeuvre the bigger man inside, arranging him so that he was lying on his side with his knees up against his chest and his wrists behind his back. Milton closed the boot and got into the front of the car. Hicks slid in next to him.

"We need to set up an exchange," Milton said. "Nadia for Florin."

"You trust Pasko?"

"No. But he's lost one son. You think he wants to lose the other?"

"I doubt it. Are you going to call him?"

"His number's in Florin's phone."

"Where are you going to suggest?"

"I've got an idea."

Chapter Fifty-Six.

MILTON DROVE for ten minutes until he was well away from the undertaker's. He parked at the side of the road and took out Florin's phone. He entered the pa.s.scode, navigated to the phone menu, and flicked through until he had the number for BABA. He pressed dial.

The call rang three times before it was answered.

"Florin?"

"Milton."

Pasko paused before he responded. "It appears that I owe you an apology, Mr. Milton. You are a resourceful man. I underestimated you."

"You wouldn't be the first."

"Perhaps. But I have something that you want. The girl. She is here, with me. It will be a simple thing to punish her for the inconvenience that she has caused."

"Florin might have a different view about that."

There was no response. Milton could hear the hush of traffic on the other end of the line. Milton waited for Pasko to speak.

"What do you propose?"

"An exchange."

"My son for the wh.o.r.e?"

"That's right."

There was another pause as Pasko considered the offer. "I need to speak to Florin," he said.

"No," Milton said. "He's alive. You'll have to trust me."

"Then there will be no exchange."

"I'm not a fool, Pasko. I don't speak Albanian. I don't want him telling you something that might be unhelpful to me. You know I want the girl. I know you want him. I don't have a hand to play if he's dead."

There was no response. He heard the m.u.f.fled sound of a car horn and then the sound of voices.

"Fine," Pasko said. "We will meet. Florin for the wh.o.r.e. Where?"

"The Golden Jubilee Bridge. You know it?"

"Yes."

"The side nearest to the Houses of Parliament." He looked at the clock in the dashboard. "I'll meet you in the middle of the bridge. One hour. Bring the girl. I'll bring your boy."

Chapter Fifty-Seven.

MILTON FOUND A QUIET SPOT on the way to the rendezvous. He parked up and went around to the trunk. Hicks joined him.

"Ready?"

Hicks nodded.

"On three. One, two, three."

They lifted Florin out of the trunk and marched him around to the back of the car. He slid onto the seat, his arms still pressed awkwardly behind his back. Milton gave Hicks the key to the cuffs and his pistol.

"Get in next to him," he said. "Put a bullet in his knee if he causes any trouble."

"With pleasure."

"Take the cuffs off when we get close."

Hicks indicated that Florin should shuffle across to the other side and got into the back with him. Milton closed the door and went around to the trunk. He shrugged off Florin's heavy leather jacket and took the flick knife and stapler from his pocket. He spread the jacket out so that he could get to the lining and, working carefully, inserted the blade of the knife between it and the leather. He sliced open a small incision, just big enough for him to slide three fingers inside, took his phone from his pocket and slid it inside. He took the stapler, fed both sides of the sliced-open liner into its mouth, and stapled them together. He repeated the procedure two more times. He was happy with his handiwork when he was done.

He got back into the car and continued into the centre of the city.

MILTON PARKED the BMW on Embankment Place. It was an arcade of shops beneath the ma.s.s of the Hungerford railway bridge. Embankment underground station was behind them, with a Costa Coffee on the corner. The car was alongside Action Bikes and opposite a business that specialised in commercial scuba gear. The area was lit by harsh artificial lights that were fitted to the underside of the bridge. There was a stream of pedestrians disappearing into the underground station and emerging from it. A man and a woman staggered by the car, both of them obviously drunk, arm in arm to lend each other support.

"Ready?" Milton said.

"You sure about this?"

"I am."

Milton stepped out of the car and went back to the door next to Florin. He took the knife from his pocket, held it to the window so that Florin could see it, and then opened the door. The Albanian slid out.

"Take it easy," Milton said.

He reached into the car, collected Florin's heavy leather jacket, and handed it to him. The big man put it on. Milton put his hand on Florin's shoulder and guided him to the front of the car. Hicks stepped out, the small gun hidden within the folds of his open jacket.

"This way," Milton said, nudging Florin in the back.

They set off to the south, between the pillars that supported the bridge. Florin was in the front with Milton within touching distance and Hicks just behind him and to the side. Milton didn't expect trouble from Florin. He had seen a demonstration of what Milton was capable of, and he knew that Hicks was armed and had very good reason to bear a grudge. And he knew that he was about to be handed over to his father. The trouble-and there would be trouble-would come later.

They emerged onto the pavement at Northumberland Avenue. There was a green cabmen's shelter on the corner, and Milton thought of the similar shelter in Russell Square where he had worked until recently. They pa.s.sed the shelter and reached the double flight of steps that led up to the bridge. Milton guided Florin to the steps.

"Up."

They ascended. There were two pedestrian bridges across the river, one each side of the old Hungerford railway bridge that ferried trains between Charing Cross and Waterloo. The bridges were both deceptively light, contrasting with the bulk of the old concrete and iron railway bridge that they enclosed. There were more people on the bridge, men and women crossing to and from the South Bank. It was busy; that was good. There were CCTV cameras, too; that was also good. The potential witnesses and the fact that everything was recorded increased the odds that the exchange would go down without incident.

They continued out across the dark waters of the Thames, looking down as a squat tug muscled three garbage-filled barges to the north, running against the tide. The Houses of Parliament were to the right and, opposite them on the other side of the river, was the floodlit wheel of the London Eye and the vast hulk of the old city hall.

Milton was alert. Florin walked with a slouch, an arm's breadth away from him. Hicks stayed just behind.

They were a quarter of the way across when Milton saw Pasko. He was approaching them from the South Bank. His right hand was in his pocket. There was a woman ahead of him.

Nadia.

Florin straightened up and walked a little faster.

Milton reached out and took his shoulder. "Nice and easy," he said.

They met in the middle, between two of the seven pylons that suspended the bridge.

Milton took Florin's shoulder again. "Stop."

Florin did as he was told. A train rumbled out of the station and headed out across the river, the lights from the carriage flickering between the metal struts of the railway bridge.

Milton looked at Nadia. She looked frightened, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and trepidation. The first time she had laid eyes on him, he had been naked, yet he had killed one man and blinded another. She knew nothing about him beyond that he was capable of moments of extreme brutality; it was reasonable that he made her anxious.

Pasko grabbed Nadia by the elbow and told her to stop. He kept his right hand in his pocket. Milton knew that he was hiding his own weapon there.

There were six feet between the two groups.

"Nadia," Milton said, "are you okay?"

The young woman nodded.

Milton looked over at Pasko. "Let's make this quick. And no drama. Hicks has a weapon. You have a weapon. We're surrounded by witnesses, and there's a camera above you."

Pasko smiled coldly. "There will be no drama."

"Simultaneous, then."

"Fine."

Pasko released Nadia.

Milton released Florin.