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  Or maybe I was just paranoid after everything that had been going on.

  I put the thought aside and focussed on dinner with my wife instead. I couldn’t prevent them from surveilling us, so there was no point worrying about it.

  I was mentally debating the merits of a chicken tikka sizzler versus goan beef when we reached the car park and headed for the car. I bleeped the locks on the car and heard a voice in the background.

  ‘Sorry?’ I looked across the roof at her. ‘Did you say something?’

  ‘I asked you three times did you want jasmine rice?’ She waved her phone at me. ‘I’ll ring an order through.’

  I grinned self-consciously. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘I know. Chicken sizzler or goan beef?’

  There was no point pretending she was wrong. ‘Chicken thanks.’ I gave her a wink. ‘You know how to keep your man happy.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Because that’s what I live for.’

  As I opened the door I had that prickly feeling again and looked up sharply.

  Nothing in front of me, but beyond the car park was the footbridge over the motorway. The side barriers restricted most of the view from ground level, but I was still fast enough to see someone turn away from the railing on the near side and move off, disappearing from view in a second.

  All I could see was the upper body of a man in a black jacket and a blue baseball cap, but the movement itself was enough.

  I wasn’t paranoid. Somebody was watching us.

  ***

  Even when a city’s people sleeps, the heart of the city beats on.

  The airport was one place that never died. Even when passenger flights stopped for the night there was still freight coming in and going out, cars buzzing to and fro, lights glowing in the darkness.

  Mike sat on the bonnet of the front, his feet on the bumper, a service station coffee warming his hands. The observation point was a k or so from the airport and he could watch the big birds coming in to land.

  He had never been particularly interested in planes, but lately he had found the observation point to be a peaceful place to while away the night time hours.

  Mike took a sip from the takeaway cup. The coffee was lukewarm now, and hadn’t been great to start with. Maybe he needed to change his supplier if these sessions were going to continue. Last time he’d gone through a period like this the beach had been his go-to place, hours whiled away as he walked the sand on either coast, or just sat and listened to the breakers crashing on the shore.

  He took a deep, slow breath. It did nothing to slow the churning of his mind. He was wide awake and he knew that wouldn’t change in a hurry. Bosnia had come back with a vengeance this time, exacerbated by Sarah’s murder and everything that had come with it.

  Sarah. She was a good girl. A free spirit who enjoyed life. She had done nothing to deserve this. From flying with the angels to cold in the ground.

  Mike took a sip and looked to the night sky. Lights were approaching far out over Manukau city, another big bird cruising in from who-knew-where. Probably only a minute or two out.

  He eased himself down off the truck and stood, waiting for the arrival. There was nothing else to do right now.

  He had plenty of time to kill.

  Chapter 29

  It felt like I had only just gone to sleep when my phone started bleeping on the bedside table.

  I fumbled for it in the darkness, knocking my watch to the floor before I could silence the phone. Squinting at the screen, it took me a while to realise what I was looking at.

  One of the things I had had Patrick do was install a standalone alarm unit in the office. It was discreet and operated through my phone, so anyone entering the office would be unaware of it.

  It was motion activated and would send a message to my phone if any breaches were detected. A message like this one.

  Somebody had entered the office through the front door.

  I struggled out of bed, guzzled half the glass of water on the bedside table to try and wake up, and grabbed my jeans from the chair by the window. I was halfway into a T-shirt when Molly rolled over and propped herself up.

  ‘Wha’youdoing?’ she mumbled.

  ‘Alarm’s gone off,’ I said, yanking on a sock.

  She was out of bed before I had the second one on, flicking on her side light.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ she said.

  Never one to argue with a sleep-deprived woman, I had the car running by the time she trotted down the front steps. I had checked the spare bedroom as I went past, hoping Mike was there.

  His bed was empty and undisturbed. He’d been home when we hit the sack earlier, so God knew what he was doing now.

  I had wanted the secondary alarm for one reason only. Knowing we were under surveillance, I wanted to know by whom. Was it still the police? If so, why? Or was it someone else, perhaps the killer themselves? Maybe the media were digging for a story?

  If someone was breaking into our office, things were getting serious. I knew the cops had bypassed the main alarm previously to install their listening devices, but hopefully they would be caught out by a silent back-up unit. If it was them, I wanted to know exactly why they were still targeting us.

  The other factor was Simon Beetham. A sparky by trade, I knew he would be able to get around the main alarm. And if he was breaking into our office it was for something more sinister than a technical attack.

  I eased out of the driveway and gunned it down the road, scanning for any watchers. The cops would have officers watching us while they did their thing at the office, so they could either delay us somehow or at least give the operators on the ground a heads-up. I saw no one obvious and the streets were empty at this time of the morning.

  The dashboard clock said it was 3:06am when I blew down the Ladies Mile hill, the business centre straight ahead. It was all in darkness.

  I eased off the gas and unbuckled my seat belt. I slid to the kerb just before the T-intersection with Main Highway, across the road from the office. The place was still in darkness. I took a 3-cell Maglite from beside the driver’s seat, and Molly took a smaller one from the glovebox.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said, ‘but stay behind me.’

  We were halfway across the road when I saw the office door open a fraction. I stopped and stared. Whoever it was stopped as well, the door partially open.

  Then I began to run.

  I heard the door crash open as I began bounding up the stairs, Molly hot on my heels. I hit the first level and started up the second flight of stairs, looking up just in time to see the desktop screen from Molly’s desk come flying for my head.

  ‘Watch out!’ I ducked and put up an arm, managing to deflect the screen away, Molly letting out a very unladylike curse as it smashed to pieces on the stairs below us.

  One thing was clear now; he wasn’t a cop.

  Footsteps sounded on the walkway, followed by a resounding crash as I reached our level.

  The office door was wide open and I took a moment to throw the Maglite around it to check for a second intruder. It was empty.

  I ran to the smoker’s alcove and looked over the rail. The car park was semi-lit by security lights and the motorway beyond. Below us was a plastic or tin canopy over the back door of one of the downstairs businesses. A man was getting to his feet near the canopy. He was dressed all in black, including a cap.

  He looked up, saw me, and began to run.

  ‘He’s running,’ I said, thrusting the keys at Molly. ‘Go round in the car!’

  With that I climbed over the railing, took a breath and dropped. The canopy was made of plastic and couldn’t take a second impact. I hit it feet first and it shattered, slowing me just enough that I didn’t break a leg when I hit the ground beneath it.

  I got to my feet, my body protesting angrily. The other guy was heading north towards the exit back onto Main Highway, running for his life. I started after him, realising after a few paces that I had somehow scrat
ched my face on the broken canopy and had blood running down my cheek.

  I ignored it and ran, keeping the guy in sight as he rounded the building and hit the footpath. By the time I got there a few seconds later he was already at the steps up to the motorway footbridge.

  ‘Stop right there!’ I bellowed, trying to sound as ferocious as possible while nearly out of breath. Mike was right; I needed to do more cardio.

  The guy ignored me and raced up the stairs. Whoever he was, he had some wheels.

  I continued on, fuelled by adrenaline and anger. When I got my hands on this joker, even with a damaged wrist, he was going to regret breaking into our office. Headlights swept over me as Molly arrived in the car.

  ‘Go round!’ I shouted, waving towards the other side of the motorway. I didn’t have time to explain and I didn’t know what she would do if she actually caught the guy, but a rough plan was better than none.

  I sprinted after the guy along the deserted footbridge. Cars sped by intermittently below us. He went past the stairs down to the train station platforms, made it to the end and dropped out of sight.

  I had managed to close the gap slightly despite the wobble in my legs and took the final flight of stairs a few seconds later. By the time I hit the footpath the guy was gone.

  I looked around, not seeing any movement in the poorly-lit street. A few vehicles parked up, darkened buildings, no people. A couple of restaurants to my right, where the street dog-legged, first running parallel to the motorway and the railway tracks then heading straight ahead to Great South Road.

  I sifted along, shining the Maglite into the shadows in the hope that I would see him huddled somewhere, trying to hide. No such luck. Where was a police dog when you needed one?

  I moved along the footpath, scanning and shining, listening with my mouth half open. Nothing.

  I saw headlights come up over the vehicular overbridge away to my right, taillights flaring as Molly slowed to take the sharp left turn. She would be with me in a few seconds. A freight train steamed through the station behind me and I glanced that way for a nano-second.

  It was all the distraction he needed.

  The guy burst out of the darkness somewhere behind me and sprinted away. I heard his running feet and saw Molly flash her headlights, lighting him up as he crossed the road ahead of her.

  I spun and gave chase again, cutting across Molly’s bow as she bore down on me. The guy was maybe fifty yards ahead of me, racing down the middle of the street. I went hell for leather after him, determined not to let him get away. Molly went past and closed up on him, forcing him to swerve off to his right before he reached Great South Road. He ducked into the driveway of a commercial property and she hit the brakes, skidding and turning hard to go after him.

  The driveway was blocked with a low slung chain, and I bounded over it as Molly backed up, her high beams lighting up the car park of the business the guy had run into. When I say bounded, it’s a generous use of the word.

  I could see him ahead, running towards a boundary fence. It was a good couple of metres high and formed a cul-de-sac with the building itself.

  He was cornered.

  He stopped and looked back at me, realising he was trapped. I slowed my pace slightly, not wanting to be winded when I reached him. It’s hard to fight when you’re already wheezing.

  The guy turned back to the fence and jumped, finding purchase with a foot somehow and getting his hands onto the top.

  ‘Damnit!’

  I picked up the pace again, seeing him roll over the top of the fence and drop from sight. It was a solidly built job with a railing running along the middle. I threw myself up at pace, getting a foothold and grabbing the top, dragging myself up awkwardly with the Maglite still in one hand.

  The other side was in complete darkness, presumably another service area or driveway. The blood rushing in my head was too loud for me to hear anything, so I had to hope for the best.

  I rolled over the top, reached down for a handhold and swung myself over. No sooner had my feet touched the ground than I was hit side-on, a full body slam that crashed me back against the fence.

  Something hard slammed into my shoulder and I dropped the Maglite. The object hit me again, a good whack across my back.

  I dropped to a knee and raised my arm to protect my head. Fortunately, because the next blow slammed across my forearm, making it instantly numb. I pushed away from the fence towards the guy, copping another whack across the back.

  I tripped over something unseen, stumbled and went down again. The guy took the opportunity to land a brutal kick to my side. I rolled with it, getting to my knees in time to take a second kick.

  This one hit the side of my head like a wrecking ball and I saw Guy Fawkes and rainbows and unicorns and maybe even the Fourth of July explode all around me. I kissed the pavement and held onto it, making sure it didn’t fall away.

  I was still clutching it when lightning bolts blinded me and an angel named Molly arrived at my side.

  ‘OhmyGod!’ She touched my head and when she took her hand away, I could see it in the headlights and it looked like she’d been painting fire engines.

  After that everything slowed down and I lay there for a while until I was sure the pavement was okay, then I sat up and managed to stay there. Molly got an ambulance down there and they poked and prodded me and patched up a decent cut to the right side of my face.

  They told me I would be sore but nothing was broken, and I wondered if they’d still say that if they knew how my ribs and head felt.

  Then the cops came and the whole thing slowed down even more. By the time they’d got details and taken some photos and gone back to the office and done the same there, it was closing in on five in the morning and the first hint of grey was creeping into the skyline.

  I told the two uniformed cops that I would write my own statement and send it to them, and they left happy enough.

  The door had been jemmied and the main alarm had been bypassed somehow, but I would need Patrick to tell me how. The burglar hadn’t left anything behind other than a mess.

  The search of the office itself appeared to have been tidy up until he was disturbed, when he obviously panicked. A drawer on my desk was hanging open and some of the contents had been tipped out. Molly’s desk was the worst, being right by the door. Everything on the desk had been strewn aside when the bad guy grabbed the screen to throw at us, and the framed wedding photo she had there was smashed. More than anything else, that got me mad.

  Sure, he’d got away tonight, but it wouldn’t happen again. Whoever this joker was, he had a lesson coming.

  Chapter 30

  Daylight found Molly and I at a table at a favourite local café.

  A favourite of mine more so than hers, to be fair. It was nothing flash but you got a full cooked breakfast and a coffee for eighteen bucks, so that’s a favourite in my book.

  The painkillers had kicked in and so had my hunger. Hash browns, bacon, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans. Toast, coffee, and a pretty girl. Bliss.

  Molly had sensible eggs benny with only one rasher of bacon – somehow its twin made its way to my plate – but went nuts with a full strength trim flat white. It had clearly been a long night.

  Ace had been propped on the apartment block since six. He’d done a walk past and checked Beetham’s van, but it was cold. Didn’t mean he hadn’t used it earlier, and if I’d been in any fit shape I would have checked the streets around the town centre after he’d got away. I was certain I would have found his van parked up discreetly somewhere.

  Nothing I could do about it now though.

  We were still eating when Mike walked in. He looked about as knackered as I felt, mixed with a decent slug of guilt. It may have had something to do with the text I’d sent him.

  He slid into the seat beside Molly.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said simply. ‘I had a bad night.’

  I nodded. I had figured as much. Ever since his disclosure about what ha
ppened in Bosnia, a few little things had fallen into place for me. Even though he was usually up early, he’d never been a morning person and now I knew why. His fondness for an afternoon nap on a Saturday made sense. His mood swings. His aggression.

  How much of all that was just his nature was hard to tell. But at least now there was an explanation for at least some of it.

  ‘No stress,’ I said. ‘Want some breakfast?’

  He nodded and went to the counter. Molly looked at me, saying nothing. I knew what she was thinking. Mike hooked his jacket over the back of the chair and sat again. His eyes were dark and sunken. He needed a shave.

  ‘You okay?’ I said.

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on the table. His hands were clasped together.

  ‘Wanna talk about it?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not really. Nothing to talk about.’ He cleared his throat and looked at me. ‘It was just a bad night.’

  I nodded. Molly hooked her hands around his arm and gave him a squeeze. I could tears in her eyes.

  Mike leaned into her and they stayed like that for a while.

  ‘You know you can talk to us, mate,’ I said. ‘If you want to. Doesn’t matter if you don’t.’

  He nodded sombrely.

  ‘We’re always here,’ Molly told him, her voice catching as she spoke. ‘Whenever you need us.’

  ‘I know,’ he said softly. I must’ve heard wrong, because it sounded like his voice was cracking too. Must’ve been the bump on the head. ‘Thanks.’

  Molly released him and he looked me in the eye.

  ‘Sorry for letting you down, mate.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘You know I would’ve had your back.’

  I nodded. ‘It’s all good mate, don’t worry.’ His coffee arrived and he gave it a stir. ‘I had Molly trying to run both of us down; that was enough to deal with.’

  She poked out her tongue. ‘If some idiot hadn’t been running around in front of me I would’ve had him, too.’