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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

T he text from Billy beeped. ‘All in position.’

After twenty-four hours of planning and organising everything down to the last second, this was it. Robert exhaled a long breath and stared at the building in front of him. Soon, this nightmare would be over.

Robert flexed his fingers, then lifted the camera dangling around his neck to snap a picture. The flash illuminated the dark corners of the building. The structure still bore signs of the fire, appearing as deserted as it had the evening Robert and Nina had come here to investigate. And aye, just like that evening, adrenaline and determination pumped through his body, only now mixed with a tinge of rage.

He stalked across the road, the tapping of his footsteps echoing in the alley. With every step he took, he neared the inevitable.

A whoosh had Robert pivoting and then smack . Something solid cracked against his face. Robert stumbled, his feet slipped on a wet drain lid and he landed on his arse.

His attacker stood under the rain, grinning. ‘That feels good.’

Dickheadson.

Robert grinned even as blood pooled in his mouth. ‘Oh aye, it does.’ He leaped to his feet. ‘Is turning up late to our wee meetings your new modus operandi ?’

Dickheadson held up the plank of wood he’d hit Robert with. ‘You’re minced meat.’

Robert flashed the man his teeth – probably soaked in blood – and took on a fighting stance, then beckoned Dickheadson with his fingers.

The arsehole surged forward, all anger and no strategy. Robert ducked out of the way, then doubled back and kneed him in the behind. Dickheadson stumbled, almost face-planting on the ground.

Robert spat the blood from his mouth. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’

Dickheadson faced him, snarled and flung the wooden plank at him. Robert leaped out of the way, but the wood caught his raised forearm, and pain zapped up his elbow. But instead of crippling him, it pumped another dose of adrenaline into his blood.

Robert advanced on Dickheadson, but the man scampered back. ‘Don’t just stand there!’

They emerged like the dead in a cemetery – men holding various weapons: a few knifes, clubs, batons.

Ah, he’d been expecting thugs. But he’d assumed Anne would have sequestered herself somewhere else, meaning she’d have a set of thugs protecting her. And with their attention divided between Dickheadson and Anne, Robert hadn’t expected to fight so much muscle. One thing was for sure: going against them with nothing but his hands would mean inevitable failure. He wasn’t 007, and this wasn’t a fucking movie.

A scream pierced the air, petrifying the breath in his lungs. Nina .

Another figure appeared from behind Dickheadson – the silhouette belonged to a man at least twice as broad as the DCI and a foot taller. Nina squirmed in his arms, thrashing to get away, but her jabs probably felt like punches from a toddler.

Oh fuck!

‘Didn’t think we’d leave your sidekick hiding behind a car, did you?’ Dickheadson clicked his fingers. ‘Get him. The boss would like a word.’

His plan had hinged on Nina staying hidden. As his secret weapon, she’d been tasked with co-ordinating their entire operation, from the safety of their car.

The figures neared, and a shout arose through the darkness in a language Robert couldn’t comprehend. Not wanting to be assaulted, he held his hands up in the universal language of surrender.

‘Take me; let her go.’

Hands gripped Robert’s arms, and he felt handcuffs being slipped on him. It felt strange to be the person being cuffed instead of the one doing the arresting – although the person who’d restrained him didn’t chant the infamous words at him. Robert had no rights as far as these thugs were concerned.

When someone kicked the back of his right knee, Robert kneeled on the ground – again a sign of complete surrender. All they needed was a bloody firing squad.

Another snap of Dickheadson’s fingers and the thugs placed a hood over Robert’s head. Then they forced him up and shoved him over the uneven road into what he assumed was a waiting van.

‘Nina?’ Robert shouted and earned a smack for his troubles. The door closed, and the next second, a female grunt sounded from his right. Nina was with him.

The car’s engine roared to life, and they jerked forward. The thugs had restrained him but hadn’t actually tethered him to the van. As they rushed along Glaswegian roads, bouncing over speed bumps and potholes, Robert rolled towards where he’d heard Nina. ‘Darling?’ he whispered.

Another smack to his head. Despite the darkness of the hood, his vision – what he assumed was his vision – swam. Again, a feminine grunt sounded.

Why couldn’t she speak? Robert’s chest restricted with fear. Had they gagged her? Hurt her? No, this wasn’t the time to imagine; he needed to regroup and replan.

First off, he needed to know where they were heading. With no visual, he needed his wits. Right, what did he know? So far he’d clocked two right turns, then a straight road before another left turn. They’d stopped at a signal then travelled uphill.

The M8. Could they be hitting the motorway? If they did, Robert would lose the home advantage.

He loosed a breath then dropped his forehead to the floor of the van. They were moving again, this time turning left. Then a straight road, a right, another right…

Hold on, he knew this route.

He heard the wail of a siren then another siren – an ambulance – before they were going downhill again. Now he could hear traffic, people, music, screams… then those noises faded and?—

George Square – they’d just passed the square and the Christmas Market. That had to be why he could hear screams and music. So they’d driven away from the area and doubled back. Smart. If they made him think they’d moved locations, he would’ve been disoriented.

When the van glided to a stop, hands grabbed him then squeezed him out as if he were a fucking mop, and he stumbled over what he believed were the same potholes as before. They were back on Walls Street.

It made sense. Anne loved drama. That much she hadn’t faked. This brought them full circle.

They pulled him indoors, uncaring if he banged into something. Then someone shoved. Not expecting it, Robert stumbled, his feet tangled, and he crashed to his knees – again. ‘Fuck!’

‘Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Honey, curse words are so unbecoming of you.’

The hood was lifted off his head – he blinked to adjust his eyes and saw her. Dressed in a fucking siren-red cocktail dress, Anne’s attire would better suit a formal party instead of this burned-down scrapheap.

Robert waited for his heart to twist with the pain of seeing her, but instead it yearned… to bring her down.

Where there had been love, there was only a question: what the hell had he seen in this woman all those years ago?

Those baby blue eyes he’d stared at thinking he could trust them now reminded him of her crocodile tears. How had he never seen the coldness that lurked in them? And that lithe, tall body… She’d used it to lie to him.

Now, as he kneeled in front of her, he asked her a question. ‘Why me?’

Anne’s heels clicked on the wooden floor as she sauntered towards him. She reached out to slide a red nail down his cheek. ‘Stubble always gave you a sexy, edgy look. Far better than the “good lad” clean-shaven one.’

Robert waited, knowing she’d take her time. She wanted to play? He’d let her.

She circled him, her hand roaming his shoulders, his hair… Then she cupped his face. ‘Who would look twice at the revered PC Muller’s wife? You’re a cop but behave like a social worker. Meticulous but sloppy in love. The man with no family. You were the perfect hunk to hide behind.’

Leaning down so her face appeared right in front of his, Anne batted her lashes. ‘And you played the part so well. A goody husband, although a little lacking in the bedroom department.’ She made a face. ‘A grieving widower. I knew you’d seek out that bitch to avenge me. You take your vows seriously – or so I thought.’

Straightening, Anne nodded to someone behind Robert, and muted grunts filled the room. The broad-chested man reappeared and deposited Nina on the floor. They’d bound and gagged her, and, to top it off, blindfolded her. Fucking bastards!

‘Let her go!’

Anne left his side and circled Nina like a vulture would a corpse. Then she stopped, pulled up the hem of her dress and extracted a knife.

Robert cursed. ‘Don’t do this. What’s Nina done to you?’

When Anne lifted the knife, a wide smile on her face, Robert lunged. ‘No!’

Though his hands were still bound, he surged to his feet. In an instant, hands grabbed him to pull him back down to the ground – but Robert, anticipating their interference, pivoted and struck out. A grunt sounded before a thug toppled.

‘Now that’s also very sexy.’ Anne twirled the knife in her hands. ‘I can see why that bitch seduced you.’

Another grunt from Nina. Robert’s eyes flashed to hers; Anne had used the blade to slice through Nina’s blindfold.

‘Is that how it is?’ Anne walked over to him and placed a hand over his chest. ‘What happened to till death do us part? You’d barely buried me before you slept with the woman who killed me! And now you’ve only got eyes for her.’

Was this all a fucking show for Anne? Looking down, seeing the knife she now used to trace his muscles, Robert snorted. ‘You died . I buried you, grieved you. You seem to have forgotten that – and something else that’s very important.’ Robert dropped his voice a notch. ‘Don’t you remember those little words you wrote in your vows? What were they? Oh aye! “I vow to confide in you, holding no secrets or mistruths between us, for you and I are partners for life.” Our entire marriage was nothing but secrets and mistruths.’

‘So you went and slept with her?’ Anne pressed the knife under his chin. ‘I should kill you for that.’

This close, despite the dim light, Robert could see that Anne had lathered her make-up on thick today, and topped it off with a sharp red lipstick. Perhaps it was just part of her wee drama production. But more than that, that dress, those heels and her make-up showed how confident she was that she’d walk away unscathed and without a fight.

Robert smiled. ‘You could. But, um, I’d wait if I were you.’

Anne narrowed her eyes. ‘Why?’

His eyes met Nina’s. When another would’ve cowered, she nodded with determination.

Anne pressed the blade closer, and Nina’s muffled protest echoed through the space. Unfazed by Anne’s threat, Robert grinned. ‘Because Nina and I have a wee gift for you.’