Chapter Twenty-Five;
The Other Guy
Max opened his eyes slowly, something telling him to wake up, that he'd already broken the first promise he'd made to himself. He was pathetic like that.
Millie was still asleep, he could tell without even looking at her, but as he moved she gave a small murmur. He shifted himself away from her but she stayed asleep, even as he got out of the camp bed and stood up, stretching a little. He felt old, tired, so much so that it almost overwhelmed the anger at Jankowski and his accomplices, or whoever it was that was behind this. He didn't know why but he felt certain it wasn't Marek. It just didn't seem like him. Oscar, yes, that stank of Jankowski, but white vans and goons? That seemed so amateurish for him.
Max frowned. Maybe Millie was right? Maybe he was overestimating Jankowski? Had he, somewhere along the line, had started seeing Marek as his arch-nemesis like that out of a DC Comic? A dark mirror of himself? The Voldemort to his Harry Potter? Dalek to his Doctor? Green Goblin to his Spiderman?
Max shook his head. No. Whatever Marek Jankowski was, smart or overestimated, he had Oscar and he may well have Max and Millie now too. That was enough to be worth hating.
Max's thoughts were waylaid when he heard voices outside the door and he turned to it, frowning as a key turned in a heavy lock and the door gave a soft shudder. Max readied himself to do whatever needed to be done when the door opened but as he did, and he saw who stood beyond, he stepped back a little in surprise.
"You?"
…
"Here we go." Roger Valentine re-entered the room with the name. "Andrei Yakov, he owns the white van." He leaned past PC Copeland and typed the name into the PNC computer. "Registration are having a slow day today." A photo came up of a heavyset man who strongly resembled a troll. "He has form."
Smithy nodded. "What is it?"
"You're gonna like this guv – suspected drug dealing from a small London-based restaurant."
"Just like Jankowski's men in Southport. Does he have ties up north?"
"Not that I can see."
PC Copeland shoved him aside. "Here, let me at it, this is where I shine."
Roger stepped out of her way with a chuckle. "Yes ma'am." He took a seat at a desk nearby. "I should go help uniform find this van."
Smithy nodded. "Sounds like a good idea, we need as many bodies out there as we can, as soon as you're ready PC Valentine. Walking beat, take whomever you want." Roger gave a brief nod, slapped PC Copeland on the arm, then left.
A minute after he left there came another voice. "Got it." PC Copeland spoke up, sitting a little straighter, and Smithy crossed his arms as he listened. "In 2004 Yakov worked in a small restaurant in Birmingham. He only worked there for three months and then he quit and moved on to set up his own restaurant, the one that was caught dealing from the back rooms. Yakov couldn't be connected to the dealings so he didn't get long. Ten months. When he was released he went back to Birmingham to the first restaurant."
"That's where Jankowski comes into it?" Smithy asked.
PC Copeland shook her head. "Jankowski was still in gaol in 2005." She frowned. "I don't think Jankowski is even behind this latest stunt. The whole thing is the normal MO for someone else, the guy who ran the first restaurant, who hired Yakov - Newcastle man Elliot Stamos."
…
"Me!"
"Stamos." Max breathed.
The dark-haired man smiled. "Miss me DI Carter?"
"Where's Jankowski?"
Stamos stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him, the slam of the door waking Millie from her sleep. She murmured, rolled over, and opened her eyes. Stamos gave her a little wave. "Mornin' darlin'." She narrowed her eyes at Stamos, glancing at Max, then sat up. Stamos looked back at Max. "As I've told you before – Marek and I aren't friendly anymore."
"Then why take Millie?" He waved towards his wife nonchalantly. "Why hold us here?"
"It's a long story, a simple one really, but let's see if I can make it simpler. Eleven years ago, when you were an eager young constable with SO19, you managed to kill, in the line of duty, not one… oh no, one is never enough… but two people. One was Thomas Jankowski." Max frowned at Stamos as the man paced slowly around the room, passing Millie who watched him with furrowed brows. He'd never told her there were two deaths to his name, she only knew about Jankowski because they'd worked together that first case when he'd returned. Max was still a closed book about some things, even with his family, and the deaths to his name was one of those topics. "The other was Sarah Hatton."
Max could still remember Sarah, an unstable young woman with a kitchen knife and a crowded street of shoppers in east London, it had been her or them. "You knew her?"
"'Victims of SO19' was how Jankowski and I crossed paths. There was about five of us, met up in Birmingham to plan the best revenge, and when I heard Marek's story I felt his pain. See, Sarah was my cousin. Poor little thing she was, nasty step-father, drunk mother. Girl never got a break. She was nineteen when she was shot down in cold blood. Did you know that?" Max ignored Millie's sniffling and gave a small nod. "But, just more SO19 cannon-fodder, right DI Carter?"
"So you and Marek caught up after he was released and went 'okay, time for Max to pay', right?"
Stamos turned on Max with a frown. "For the seven billionth time, I'm not working with Jankowski, you got that?"
"So this is a coincidence, you turning up to take Millie the same time Marek took my son?"
Stamos stepped towards him. "I don't believe in coincidences." The door behind Max opened and the heavyset guy stepped inside, followed by Reouth. "When Jankowski got out he told me he was coming after you, so I staked out your house, watched your pretty wife, waited to see what he'd do. See, I wanted to come mess with you a bit, but Jankowski wouldn't play the game. He's a 'shut up and shoot' kind of man." He beckoned Reouth forward and the man grabbed Max, pulling his arms up behind him, as the big man pulled Millie to her feet. "We fought, he took Oscar to prove he could, then told me the competition was on."
"The competition?" Max was hesitant to ask but knew he should anyway. It was what Stamos obviously wanted.
"Yeah. Jankowski overestimated you Max, taking Oscar and only leaving you small clues, none of which you noticed. Me? I like mind games and big guys with gruff European accents." He grinned. "And the game of 'who kills Carter first'? I like to win." He stepped forward and punched Max in the diaphragm, winding him, and he doubled over. "Take him." Reouth nodded and dragged Max from the room. Stamos looked back at Millie, now held tightly by the big guy, one hand pressed over her mouth. "Sit tight sweetheart, I'll be back soon." He pulled the door shut behind him as he left.