shoved it into my pocket, and took the back exit.
Sirens wailed in the distance as I weaved through the back alley, distancing myself from the scene. Soon that pub would be crawling with police and Intelligence. They’d find the assassin I’d killed, and they’d find Gardener’s headless corpse, all of which would take them time to identify. I had time to find Ballinger but not much.
The hunter was now the hunted.
Chapter 14
X
I scowled at the headless corpse, thoroughly pissed off.
“Sniper,” Mercy said, standing beside me. “The shot came through the front window.” She pointed to the bullet hole in the glass. A sliver of sunlight shone through the entry point, casting a beam of light onto the putrid green carpet.
“Most likely military issue,” I murmured, glancing back at the corpse as it was zipped into a body bag by a member of the crime scene crew.
The Maid and The Master had been shot to pieces and covered in brain matter. This whole side of the river was under contention after the demise of Royal Blood, but it was also an area where informants used to meet. Before Mercy had put a bullet into Sykes’s head, this used to be Necromancer territory, but that didn’t stop me and others from my side coming to places like this shithole looking for information.
We didn’t have any leads on Lorelei or Lafayette, so we’d lain low with our ears to the ground, listening for any ripples. What we’d gotten was a tidal wave, and it’d brought us right to The Maid and The Master. An alleged shoot out with a group of hitmen for hire and a woman.
We’d gained entry to the scene with fake badges and poked around best we could considering we were operating under MI6’s banner on its own soil. Technically, everything we were doing was illegal. Our aim was to keep our heads down and gather intel. Nothing more.
“What makes you think this has anything to do with Lafayette?” Mercy asked.
“Laurence Gardener,” I said.
“Who’s Laurence Gardener?”
I nodded toward the body bag. “The headless corpse.”
Mercy narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that? He had no head.”
“I met with him several times while I was running hits for Royal Blood,” I said, pulling her aside. “Laurence Gardener had a tattoo on his ring finger. He got it when he married some French woman he’d rescued from some pimp in Calais.”
Mercy cocked her head to the side. “Really?”
“It was in my best interests to know who I was doing business with. Last thing I needed was bad information. Gardener was a good informant.”
“So the tattoo matched?”
“Yes.”
She watched as the body was wheeled out the front door and disappeared into the back of a van. “If he was a Royal Blood informant, then he might’ve been meeting with Lorelei.”
“That’s what I’m thinking and what the rumor suggests, but there’s also the possibility he was taken out by one of the inner circle, and she wasn’t here at all.”
Mercy nudged my arm with her shoulder. Nodding toward the bar, she said, “He might let something slip with a bit of elbow grease.”
Following her gaze, I noticed a broad-shouldered man behind the bar, scowling at the police and suits that clogged up the pub. He was the owner. Fit the profile for a seedy shithole like this.
I nodded in agreement. “We come back tonight. Rough him up a little.”
Mercy wrapped her arm around my waist and smiled up at me. “Sounds like a date.”
“C’mon,” I said, leading her out the back entrance. “Let’s get something to eat, and wait until it’s dark.”
“Kebabs,” she declared. “I want a big, filthy kebab.”
“Is that an euphemism?”
She made a face. “No, it’s literal.”
----
A few hours later , we sat in the car, the rubbish from our dinner on the backseat, watching the street outside The Maid and The Master.
Things were quiet in the wake of the incident inside. Really fucking quiet. The pub was ‘closed for repairs’ and was dark,
Sirens wailed in the distance as I weaved through the back alley, distancing myself from the scene. Soon that pub would be crawling with police and Intelligence. They’d find the assassin I’d killed, and they’d find Gardener’s headless corpse, all of which would take them time to identify. I had time to find Ballinger but not much.
The hunter was now the hunted.
Chapter 14
X
I scowled at the headless corpse, thoroughly pissed off.
“Sniper,” Mercy said, standing beside me. “The shot came through the front window.” She pointed to the bullet hole in the glass. A sliver of sunlight shone through the entry point, casting a beam of light onto the putrid green carpet.
“Most likely military issue,” I murmured, glancing back at the corpse as it was zipped into a body bag by a member of the crime scene crew.
The Maid and The Master had been shot to pieces and covered in brain matter. This whole side of the river was under contention after the demise of Royal Blood, but it was also an area where informants used to meet. Before Mercy had put a bullet into Sykes’s head, this used to be Necromancer territory, but that didn’t stop me and others from my side coming to places like this shithole looking for information.
We didn’t have any leads on Lorelei or Lafayette, so we’d lain low with our ears to the ground, listening for any ripples. What we’d gotten was a tidal wave, and it’d brought us right to The Maid and The Master. An alleged shoot out with a group of hitmen for hire and a woman.
We’d gained entry to the scene with fake badges and poked around best we could considering we were operating under MI6’s banner on its own soil. Technically, everything we were doing was illegal. Our aim was to keep our heads down and gather intel. Nothing more.
“What makes you think this has anything to do with Lafayette?” Mercy asked.
“Laurence Gardener,” I said.
“Who’s Laurence Gardener?”
I nodded toward the body bag. “The headless corpse.”
Mercy narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that? He had no head.”
“I met with him several times while I was running hits for Royal Blood,” I said, pulling her aside. “Laurence Gardener had a tattoo on his ring finger. He got it when he married some French woman he’d rescued from some pimp in Calais.”
Mercy cocked her head to the side. “Really?”
“It was in my best interests to know who I was doing business with. Last thing I needed was bad information. Gardener was a good informant.”
“So the tattoo matched?”
“Yes.”
She watched as the body was wheeled out the front door and disappeared into the back of a van. “If he was a Royal Blood informant, then he might’ve been meeting with Lorelei.”
“That’s what I’m thinking and what the rumor suggests, but there’s also the possibility he was taken out by one of the inner circle, and she wasn’t here at all.”
Mercy nudged my arm with her shoulder. Nodding toward the bar, she said, “He might let something slip with a bit of elbow grease.”
Following her gaze, I noticed a broad-shouldered man behind the bar, scowling at the police and suits that clogged up the pub. He was the owner. Fit the profile for a seedy shithole like this.
I nodded in agreement. “We come back tonight. Rough him up a little.”
Mercy wrapped her arm around my waist and smiled up at me. “Sounds like a date.”
“C’mon,” I said, leading her out the back entrance. “Let’s get something to eat, and wait until it’s dark.”
“Kebabs,” she declared. “I want a big, filthy kebab.”
“Is that an euphemism?”
She made a face. “No, it’s literal.”
----
A few hours later , we sat in the car, the rubbish from our dinner on the backseat, watching the street outside The Maid and The Master.
Things were quiet in the wake of the incident inside. Really fucking quiet. The pub was ‘closed for repairs’ and was dark,
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