Smile of the Tiger.
8.
They had broken in through a basement window and were, consequently, one floor below ground level.
Shining their torches ahead of them they found they were standing in a narrow corridor.
In front of them was a flight of stone steps and to their right a closed door.
Opening it, they found themselves in the underground garage, Dempsey finding the light switch and flooding the area with neon.
Parked next to each other were two cars. One was a dark grey Mercedes saloon, the other a dark blue Bentley.
"At least we know we're in the right place." whispered Harry.
"Yeah. 'An these babies ain't goin' anywhere!" agreed Dempsey as he took a knife from his pocket and ran over to the cars, slashing each one of their tyres, the sound of hissing air filling the silence.
Back in the corridor they moved stealthily towards the flight of stone steps and, with weapons drawn, locked and loaded, they made their way up to a closed door at the top.
Turning the knob slowly, Dempsey opened it just enough to be able to see what was beyond.
It was a vast kitchen, fully illuminated and, having listened for a few seconds and been met with silence, he gestured for Harry to follow him.
Half way across, they suddenly heard approaching voices and swiftly ran back to the top of the stone steps, pulling the door closed behind them and switching off their torches.
"It's time we gave the girl another sleeping pill." said a voice. "Otherwise she'll start her racket again."
"Yeah okay." said another. "Let me sort the drinks out then we'll sort her out, eh?"
Dempsey and Harry waited quietly whilst the two men rattled around, eventually hearing the pop of corks and the unmistakeable sound of wine glugging into glasses.
Through a crack where the door met its frame, Dempsey glimpsed the two men leaving, carrying a tray each of drinks.
Gesturing for Harry to follow him, he ran quickly to the kitchen door and, having checked all was clear, made for the galleried landing, sprinting the stairs two at a time, Harry right behind him.
When they reached the landing they began opening every door, swinging their torches around inside but finding each room empty until they reached the last one.
It was locked.
"Hello?" came Arabella's familiar voice from within, sounding tired and frightened. "Who's there?"
Suddenly they heard voices again and realised the two men were on their way up. Diving into an empty bedroom, they waited until the bodyguards had reached and unlocked Arabella's door.
Dempsey moved swiftly behind them, clubbing one over the back of his neck with his Magnum and, as the other turned round in surprise, punched him squarely on his nose.
As he tried to scramble to his feet, at the same time pulling a gun from his waistband, Harry pistol whipped him, knocking him unconscious.
They ran into the bedroom and found a startled Arabella, hands tied behind her back, sitting up on the bed.
"Come on!" hissed Dempsey, urgently, grabbing Arabella's arm and hauling her to her feet. She was groggy and unsteady, so he picked her up in his arms and rushed out of the door, Harry behind him, her gun ready to fire if someone else suddenly appeared.
They quickly descended the stairs, ran through the kitchen, down the stone steps and up to the broken window they'd used to get in, Harry scrambling through first, Dempsey aiming his torch to help her.
Putting his hand up, he rested for a moment, breathing hard, a lot of strength knocked out of him having carried Arabella a fair distance.
"You okay, James?" asked Harry, concerned and shining her torch at him.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Give me a second." he panted, his heart rate slowing now, his breath and strength returning to normal.
He found the light switch and pointed to the window.
"Okay. Can you make it through there?" he whispered to Arabella as he cut her ties with his knife. "Harry'll help you."
"Y..Yes I think so." she said, reaching out for Harry's outstretched hand and using it to steady herself as she climbed through.
Dempsey was soon behind her and, with Harry helping a stumbling Arabella, they sprinted for his car, Harry sliding in first and pulling Arabella onto her lap.
Dempsey fired up the car and roared away, radioing in to SI-10 to get a team to the Mayfair address immediately and before the occupants could leave.
When they reached Hartley Hall, Jonas was upstairs with Lady Annabel, trying to comfort her with all manner of assurances, none of which he truly believed and none of which she truly believed either.
Consequently she was bordering on hysteria.
Rupert was the first to see Arabella walk in to the drawing room, aided by Dempsey and Harry.
He stared in disbelief before rushing to her and enveloping her in arms, tears pouring down his face. She clung to him, her legs still feeling like jelly as he manoeuvred her into an armchair.
Wilson appeared in the doorway, relief clear on his face too.
"Where's his lordship?" asked Harry.
"With her ladyship, me lady." he replied. "I will fetch them here."
At the house in Mayfair, Hani was sipping a glass of red wine, when his two bodyguards appeared in the doorway looking decidedly battered and bruised.
The truth didn't strike him straight away.
"Have you two been fighting each other?" he said, smirking at them, not believing for one second that his 'safe house' had not only been discovered, but breached and his valuable hostage released.
When they remained silent, his smile remained, but his eyes were cold, hard and murderous.
"Where's the girl?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"She...they..." stammered one.
It was the last utterance he ever made.
A hole appeared in the centre of his forehead and as the other turned to run another hole appeared in the back of his head.
The first shot had been fired by Hani, the second by Rene, who gestured to his three colleagues to deal with the dead bodies.
"We must leave immediately!" said Hani. "The authorities could be here any second!"
Minutes later, Rene's three cohorts reported that the cars had been put out of action, so they'd dumped the bodies on the back seats and left them.
Hani made a couple of calls, tracking down his cartel partners, George Smith agreeing to pick them up in his Jaguar, Tony Hill his BMW 7 Series.
At Hartley Hall, Arabella was beginning to feel human again.
Jonas had called the family doctor over, who had reported that she was quite alright, if not still feeling the effects of the constant supply of sleeping tablets that had been regularly fed to her for the last week or so.
It would take another twenty-four hours before her system was completely flushed through, so she should just give in to sleep and let her body recover.
Dempsey and Harry had quickly departed, Dempsey explaining that he needed to get back to Mayfair and help his colleagues round up the gang, Harry, for effect, insisting she went with him.
No-one questioned her intentions, busy and elated as they were at Arabella's safe return.
When they arrived, several SI-10 cars were skewed across the road, the whole area cordoned off. Two ambulances were also parked outside the main door.
All the lights in the house were burning, every window lit up as they made their way through the open front door, a feeling of foreboding beginning to creep in when they saw the look on Spikings's face.
"We've missed them!" he said, angrily. "Must have been by only minutes."
"Jeez!" said Dempsey. "How in the hell did they manage that!? I put their wheels outta commission!"
"We can only hope forensics can come up with finger prints and some DNA." said Spikings. "The place is being thoroughly gone over."
"Why are there two ambulances?" asked Harry. "We didn't do that much damage to a couple of them."
"We found two dead bodies on the back seats of the cars in the garage. One shot through the forehead, the other through the back of his skull. We'll soon know who they were when their prints are checked." said Spikings. "Not your work then."
"No Chief." replied Dempsey. "We just knocked 'em out."
"Seems we're definitely dealing with some ruthless killers here." said Spikings. "Heaven only knows whether Lady Arabella would have come out of this alive."
"Yes, it flies in the face of the so called harmless kidnapping." remarked Harry, recalling how Jonas had been convinced Arabella was simply a pawn in a bigger game, but ultimately safe.
"Do we know who owns this house?" she asked.
"Not yet, Sergeant." replied Spikings. "But we'll know by the morning. Anyway, well done you two, although calling for back up before you raided the place may have been a better option."
"Yeah I guess you could say that in hindsight, Chief." replied Dempsey. "But the place looks like a fortress 'an we could've gotten into a shoot out. With Arabella inside, we didn't wanna risk it. Never in a million years would I'd 've thought they'd scram so darned quick!"
"Yes, okay, I'll grant you did the right thing in the heat of the moment." said Spikings. "I hope the CCTV may be able to identify whoever it was that picked them up!"
"If it's okay with you, Chief." said Dempsey. "Harry'n I'll get off home. I know she's pretty bushed. She was up most of the night with Lady Annabel."
"Yes fine, you two get off." agreed Spikings. "There's nothing more we can do until forensics report tomorrow and Chas can trawl through the CCTV coverage."
When the arrived home, they immediately stripped off and showered, Harry in their en-suite bathroom, Dempsey using one in a guest room, the warm water reviving and refreshing them both.
He was first to emerge, wearing a silk dressing gown and lit a fire, then mixed them some drinks, before flopping down onto their big, soft sofa, the crackling and warmth of the fire making him feel drowsy.
Harry came through, a towel wrapped around her head, another covering her from the chest to a few inches above her knees.
She sat down next to him, studying his handsome face, then kissed his lips and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Thought you were tired." he said, his eyes still closed, a smile on his face.
"I am." she whispered, kissing him again, her hand slipping inside his dressing gown. "But not that tired!"
After Hani, Rene and his three accomplices had been picked up by Tony Hill and George Smith, they instructed them to find a hotel for the night, where they could re-group and lay new plans.
They explained what had happened to the two drivers, but Hani didn't tell them who Rene was or why he was now involved.
They checked into a suite at the Kensington Close Hotel and ordered food and wine to be sent up to them. Although, outwardly, Hani had remained as cool as cucumber, inside he was boiling with rage and humiliation and spoiling for revenge.
Having eaten and consumed a few glasses of wine, he picked up the telephone and dialled Jonas's number.
"Cosgrove-Hartley." said Jonas.
"Lord Jonas." soothed Hani. "I trust you find your daughter in good health?"
"Apart from being stuffed full of sleeping pills, she's relatively fine."
"Ah, good." gushed Hani. "Now, it was a silly thing to have had her rescued, you know."
"Far from it, you sick bastard!" retorted Jonas. "Now let's call an end to this nonsense once and for all."
"Why? Do you think it's all over Lord Jonas?"
"Of course it's all over!" replied Jonas. "You've lost your most valuable bargaining chip. Or don't you know when you're beaten!"
"Ah but wait until the Sunday papers are published this weekend." said Hani.
"I've already lined up a solid defence against that rubbish!" replied Jonas. "It won't get you anywhere. And it certainly won't get you five million pounds, that's for sure! It's over!"
"What was it your revered statesman Sir Winston Churchill once said?" stated Hani.
"Sir Winston made many famous speeches, man." retorted Jonas. "What are you on about?"
"I think it was forty-five years ago almost to the day." replied Hani. "1942, November during the Lord Mayor's luncheon at the Mansion House."
"For God's sake what are you talking about?" gasped Jonas.
"He said and I quote. 'Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.' Those words are going to haunt you for the rest of your life, Lord Jonas!"
