The Getaway (Sam Archer 2) Read Online Free Page B

the take?’
    ‘Just over five hundred thousand. Half a million.’
    Gerrard shook his head and swore, long and hard.
    ‘Shit.’
    ‘Like I said, it was delivery day. The vault was fully stocked up. They cleaned house.’ She looked back down at the report in the folder. ‘A silent alarm they didn’t know about was tripped, but it didn’t matter. Every cop in the area was uptown. Judging from the timings, it looks like they called in a fake emergency on the police frequency, and it emptied the entire 19 th precinct as they headed the opposite direction, responding to the call.’
    Gerrard closed his eyes, processing everything she’d just told him, picturing the entire heist in his head from start-to-finish. There were a few moments of silence as he mentally ran through the job , seeing it unfold in his mind.
    Then he opened his eyes and looked back at the torched getaway car.
    ‘These people have done their homework,’ he said. Katic nodded in agreement as he started walking towards the burnt-out wreck. ‘And they’ve got some serious nerve. It takes a lot of balls to hold up a bank four blocks from a police station.’
    He p aused, ten yards from the taxi.
    ‘But this doesn’t make sense,’ he said, pointing at the cab. ‘All that proficiency yet this? Five armoured trucks, four banks, and this is the first getaway car they’ve ever burned. In fact, this is the first one they’ve even left for us to find. Why?’
    Katic didn’t reply.
    She just pointed to the rear of the car.
    The trunk was popped open, one of the forensics detectives peering inside. Gerrard walked forward, and that sickeningly sweet smell of burnt flesh grew stronger. He grabbed the end of his tie and covered his nose and mouth, and took a look inside himself.
    A body was in there. It was a horrific sight, the kind that gave g rown men nightmares.
    The corpse used to be a man. His skin and hair had been burned away, and he was red raw where his skin had scorched, stained with black, his flesh and remaining skin smouldering. An awful and agonising death, cooking like meat in an oven. No escape, just frenzy and desperation as the flames ate up the car as he tried to thrash, kick and claw his way out. Gerrard saw the stringy remains of binds around his hands and ankles and a gag tied around his head and in his mouth.
    ‘Jesus,’ Gerrard muttered, his tie still to his nose.
    ‘The driver of the cab,’ Katic said. ‘He was gagged and bound after they lifted the taxi. When they lit the interior, he couldn’t get out.’
    Gerrard glanced at what was left of the man’s hands. The fingernails were mostly still intact, and he saw black fabric and blood there from where he had scrabbled at the interior, trying to claw his way out. He’d ripped off a few of them off in his desperation. Having seen enough, Gerrard stepped back, turning and taking a deep fresh breath to clear his airways of the awful smell, releasing his tie and letting it drop back down to his shirt.
    ‘Now we’re getting somewhere. They screwed up,’ he told Katic, who joined him. ‘The ball’s in our court. This is a homicide charge.’
    ‘Double,’ Katic corrected. Gerrard looked at her and she nodded with her head towa rds the front seat of the taxi.
    He stepped forward and walked around the car. A female detective from forensics was there, peering inside. Gerrard tapped her on the shoulder and she turned and nodded, moving to one s ide to let him see for himself.
    A second dead body was there in the front seat, behind the wheel. His torso, arms and legs had been torched by the flames, but his head was the worst mess of all.
    Half of it was missing.
    Ahead of him, some of the front windshield was smashed out, blood spattered amongst the black char.
    ‘Someone shot him up close, from the back seat. Shotgun, point-blank. One shell. No cartridge left behind,’ Katic said. Gerrard looked closer at the corpse. He saw the remains of white clothing clinging to his burnt