Caroline Tyner was not what she expected. She struck Francesca as someone who took great care over her personal appearance and not because of her job. She started hesitantly, “I wondered if you could help me?”
Caroline smiled sweetly, “I hope so.”
“I`m looking for my brother. He’s my stepbrother, actually,” she corrected herself quickly.
“Oh, I hope I can help. When you say missing do you mean missing as in missing person or missing as in you haven’t seen him in some time?”
Francesca felt a bit foolish, “I`m not sure,” she bit gently on her lower lip.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“About five days ago.”
“Well, that’s not exactly missing,” she smiled kindly at Francesca. “Have you been to the police?”
Francesca got the impression that the sweet Caroline was not really interested. “His name is Andy. Andy Richards!” She got the response she was hoping for. At the mention of his name Caroline Tyner froze as her mouth opened slightly. She obviously recognised the name.
She was caught off guard, “I`m sorry. I don`t think that I can help you,” she apologised.
Francesca pushed further, “I know my brother came to see you, Caroline.” She used her first name deliberately.
“I`m sorry but I cannot discuss my clients!”
“But he`s my brother!”
Francesca knew what she had to do next and dug into her bag and brought out two photographs of them together along with the handwritten note from the file. They were the only photos she had of him and even then it had been hard work convincing him to let her take his picture. She showed the photos to his solicitor, “Look, this is us!”
Caroline took the pictures and looked at them. There was no doubt in her mind that the girl in the photo was now sitting opposite her was posing with one of her clients. “I`m sorry but client confidentiality prohibits me from talking to you about another client.”
“Read the note!” implored Francesca, “Please, read it. Please. He may be in trouble!”
Her brow furrowed as she read the note, “What does this mean?” she sounded genuinely concerned.
“I don't know,” admitted Francesca, “that’s why I need to know why he needed to see you!”
The photos, even though they may or may not have proved a family connection between the two of them, were irrelevant as far as she was concerned. She knew only too well that anyone who knew what they were doing on a computer with the right software could easily fabricate an image but the note. That was different.
She continued slowly, “If you believe your brother, sorry, step-brother, to be in any danger, Miss Bianchi, I strongly advise you to go to the police and seek their help.” She swallowed hard, “but once again, I reiterate I cannot talk about my clients,” she paused, “unless, of course, you have absolute proof that he is either dead or that his life is in imminent danger.”
“Is there nothing I can do to convince you?” begged a desperate Francesca.
“I am so sorry. I wish I could help but” Francesca looked into her soft, brown eyes and believed her.
Francesca stood outside the office and wondered what she would have to do to gain Caroline’s confidence. She noticed a movement in a parked silver car opposite. He was blatantly staring at her. She felt very uncomfortable and vulnerable when she attracted the unwanted attention of men nowadays. As a younger girl she had, like most girls of her age, enjoyed flaunting her body and encouraged, to some extent, the boys to notice her but not now. As their eyes met and she felt a violent shiver run down her spine causing her to shudder slightly. There was something especially disturbing about her unwanted admirer. It was his eyes. They were cold and soulless. Even though she had noticed him he did not look away as most men would have done instead he carried on taking in every curve of her body. Once in her car she locked the doors and made her way home.
Grimshawe carried on with his task as instructed and followed C.Tyler home that night.
Chapter 15
The two occupants of the car, parked in a side street opposite the small apartment building, looked out of place. Years before, in a different era, the building had served as a place of worship but as attendances dwindled the old church fell into disrepair. Eventually the local diocese cut their financial loses and sold off the building to a property developer who converted it into a dozen luxury apartments.
The driver, the older of the two, looked casually around while his partner read the paper. “Another of these so-called heavies who think they`re tough!” he said dismissively.
His partner, almost ten years his junior, glanced at him sideways, “Don`t underestimate this guy,” he warned, “you don`t last long in his line of work unless you`re good at what you do!”
“He`s a paid thug, that's all.”
“And we're not?”
“Difference is we've been trained by the best,” he grinned.
“One of these days you`re going to meet your match.”
“One day maybe but not today! Hope we don't have to wait to long for him to show. I`m bloody hungry.”
“Patience, old man,” he grinned knowing the reference would provoke a reaction.
“Not that bloody old that I can’t kick your arse, sunshine!” the retort was quick and well humoured even though it was meant seriously. “I just want to get this job done and get the fuck out of here,” he sighed and shook his head, “Christ, this place is a fucking dive!”
“Yeah well, you're only here for a few days so don't worry about it,” he sounded as bored as he looked.
“Oh god! A few days! Let’s just kill him and go home!” he pleaded.
“Intel! We're here to gather intel, remember?”
He sighed and shook his head reluctantly, “Yeah, okay. Two days, though, that's all. Two days!”
Frustrated Francesca drove straight home from her meeting, made herself a coffee and sat down in her living room quietly reflecting on what she knew. A part of her was still excited at the prospect of having the news scoop of the year but she was strangely concerned about the safety of a man she barely knew. A step-brother she had never even met until a short while ago.
She got up and went to straighten out a Swarovski crystal dolphin that was not in its usual position and headed towards her ensuite bedroom to take a long, hot relaxing bath. As she entered she stopped dead still as though she had walked into an invisible brick wall. The corner of her red valance that surrounded the bottom of her bed was trapped inside the cream coloured drawer of the divan bed. Francesca had many little quirks and tidiness was one of them. Everything had its own place and had to look perfect. Rooted to the spot with only her chest moving up and down in time with her breathing, even her eyes unblinking she stared at the corner of her bed. She knew that when she left for work early that morning her bed was perfectly made. She looked around quickly as though expecting to see someone there with her. Walking backwards she left the bedroom and, turning quickly, retraced her steps to the living room.
Standing in the middle of the room she looked around. Apart from the dolphin everything else looked exactly where it should be. She was drawn to her huge wall unit. It was the only storage space in the room. Approaching carefully she studied the top part where she had her best crystal glasses on display. Nothing there seemed to have been disturbed. She opened each of the four drawers on the unit but could see no signs that they had even been opened. The last things left to open were the small doors behind which were the cupboards. As she opened the second door she stepped back quickly. Her neatly folded pile of beige napkins was no longer neatly folded. Instead, they were in a disheveled pile as though someone had folded them haphazardly and dumped them back on the shelve.
She checked the kitchen carefully but could find nothing out of place and then checked the spare bedroom. Again things were not where they should have been. More evidence that someone had been there.
Feeling frightened and vulnerable she grabb
ed her purse and left not knowing where she was going to. She stopped outside her own door and leaned against the wall as she gathered her thoughts. She was quite convinced that her home had been searched but by whom she had no idea and whoever it was no longer there. She stood pressed against the wall for what, to her, seemed like ages before deciding that she was probably safer in her own home rather than anywhere else and so she returned locking the door behind her.
She slept very little that night aware of every noise that surrounded her. Until then she had never realised just how much activity there was at night even in a supposively secure complex. She jumped at every creak produced within her own apartment and eventually, as daylight broke through the morning sky she rose feeling tired but relieved.
It was well past midnight and both occupants of the car were, by now, stiff as well as bored when the blue Vauxhall pulled up outside the small block of apartments.
“That’s got to be him,” said the driver.
“He`s a big bastard!” observed his younger colleague.
“Yeah, well, you’ve heard the old adage the bigger they are the harder they fall.” He watched Morton carefully and reflected that this one may be tougher than he thought.
Chapter 16
The next morning Thanos was sitting at his office desk, fingers interlocked resting on his portly stomach staring at a picture of his villa in Greece on the wall. It was his favourite position when thinking. After yesterday at her apartment he had decided that things needed to change. Someone had outlived their usefulness and was no longer part of the team. He had to go but first he had a use for him.
As usual his conniving mind was considering all the angles and, as far as he could see, he had nothing to lose. Even if things went wrong he could always put the blame on some unsuspecting fool and wriggle out of it that way. No, the time had come for him to be a one-man show.
He had a mole in his organisation. But who? If there was one person who could find out it was Morton. Just his sheer presence was normally enough to send fear through even the hardest of men! It was time to make use of his silent partner’s talents one last time!
Morton was predictable on some things and one of those was the time he arrived for work. He entered the office at his usual time at just after ten o’clock. There was no Good morning from Thanos, after yesterday he was no longer comfortable in his presence, “We’ve got a problem,” Thanos looked grim. “We’ve got a mole!”
Morton considered the statement for a second before asking, “What makes you think that?”
“I had a telephone call yesterday from our friends. It seems that they already know about the files! Now, unless you’ve told them about the files because I fucking well haven’t then someone must’ve!”
Morton shrugged his heavy shoulders, “Richards?” it made sense to him that maybe Richards had already spilled the beans just in case things did not go as he planned. “He did say he had to make a phone call, remember?”
Thanos thought about it again, “No!” he stated simply shaking his head, “Andy might have trying to blackmail me but he wasn’t a grass. He was a loyal, misguided but loyal company man. There’s no way he would have grassed us out to anyone.” Thanos was sure of that.
“Who then?” he shrugged his huge shoulders and shook his head as he asked.
Thanos lent back in his chair and steeped his fingers, “I’ve been doing some thinking about that. Been up all bloody night thinking about it. Didn’t get much sleep.” He paused as though troubled by what he had to say next and then carried on slowly, “I noticed the other week that Rita’s old man is driving about in a beemer these days.” Rita was one of his daytime controllers in the cab office. She was also his cleaner and the only person, other than Morton, who was allowed in the office on her own.
Morton shrugged his shoulders unconcerned, “So. Could have had a win on the lottery or the horses or maybe they got a loan from somewhere.”
Thanos shook his head, “No! If she wanted a loan for a car she would’ve come to me first…”
“What? At your rates!”
Thanos carried on as though he had not heard, “and have you noticed she is dripping in gold lately. Cheap gold I admit but it still cost money and she told me that she and that lazy bastard of a husband have booked a cruise.” Still Morton just shrugged his shoulders so Thanos pressed on with his case against them. He was convinced that she was the one, “Look, he’s a lazy bastard. Has always been work shy and she’s too fucking ugly to earn that kind of money on her back! There can only be one way for them to have that kind of money!”
Morton thought about it. “Yeah, I agree. It don't add up. We don't pay her enough to pay for that kind of life but there could be another explanation.”
“Well, could you look into it? Start with her old man. Don`t take Grimshawe. Use your own man for this.”
Morton passed Grimshawe on his way out of the office. The young man was playing a dangerous game as he grinned at Morton as though he knew something. Not for the first time Morton thought how much that smug grin irritated him.
Thanos sat resting his elbows on the edge of his desk his hands clasp together lightly rubbing his bottom lip along his thumbnail. A satisfied grin creased his fat face as he had just taken a phone call from the Arabs asking for another girl to join them later that night and they were willing to more than double the payment if the right girl was provided. From the description that they gave him he had the perfect girl for the job.
Grimshawe drove him to the Brazilian’s corner shop. As soon as they entered Justino Mendoza went pale. His stomach was still sore and badly bruised from the previous day, “Senior,” he was visibly shaken at their return so soon, “you said one week! I do not have the money yet so soon!” he spoke quickly almost stuttering.
Thanos nodded at Grimshawe and then towards the door. Grimshawe walked over and slammed the bolt home. Rosa, his wife, had hidden herself in the stock room at the back of the shop as soon as she saw them enter. Although she had never seen the new one accompanying Thanos before there was something about him that she did not like – something almost evil.
“Where is the lovely Rosa?” asked Thanos trying his best to sound friendly.
Mendoza kept his eyes firmly fixed on Thanos, “She's not here, senior.”
Thanos nodded his head slowly. He did not believe him. He could smell her perfume in the air. He looked towards the back of the shop and to the door of the stock room. He looked back at Mendoza, “Are you sure!” it was not so much a question as a demand. He walked to the door that led up to the small flat upstairs and called up, “Mrs. Mendoza are you there?” and waited. When he got no reply he tried again, “Rosa!” he called, “Rosa, are you in. You might want to come on down.” He waited again and when there was still no reply he carried on, “I have thought of a way for you and your wife, well, mainly your wife, actually, to pay off what you owe me.”
Mendoza was not stupid and realised immediately what he meant, “No senior,” he pleaded desperately, “I will have the money for you.”
Thanos`s cold eyes looked on Mendoza with contempt and re-emphasised his ultimatum, “by Friday!” he watched what little colour there was left in Mendoza’s face drain away and knew that it would be impossible for them to come up with the money. “I want the money Friday or your lovely wife will be working for me this weekend! Understand?” There was finality about the statement as though he had already made up his mind no matter what happened.
Mendoza summoned up what little pride he still had left and confronted Thanos, “”No!” he almost shouted, “No! She will not work for you!” his hands were clenched so tightly by his sides that his fingers ached as his knuckles turned white.
The façade could not last any longer and Thanos snapped, the contempt he had for these people evident in his voice, “Listen, you piece of shit, Saturday night your wife becomes one of my whores and she will work off your debt. Like it or not!” his voice had once again acquired its customary t
hreatening edge.
“Get out! Get out of my shop or I will call the police!” threatened Mendoza shaking with a mixture of fear and rage.
“You little shit,” snarled Thanos as he turned to him at the mention of the police, “you’ll call the police!” Mendoza realised at once that he had gone too far. Thanos looked at him as though he was a piece of dirt to be scrapped off the sole of his shoe, “I don`t think you understand, you piece of scum, while you owe me money I own your arse and your wife’s and I'll use it anyway I want!” he stopped and glared at Mendoza as the colour gradually built up in his face as the anger surged again, “Time to teach you a lesson in respect! Use the back room,” he nodded in the direction of the stockroom, “bit more private in there.”
Grimshawe, never missing the chance to hurt someone, got the message immediately and today was special considering he had been chosen to accompany the boss and not Morton.
Mendoza had nothing left to lose. His dignity had already been stripped from him the previous day and so gathering all of his physical strength he lunged at Grimshawe as he came around the counter at him catching the younger man by surprise and knocking him backwards onto the countertop. Seizing his opportunity he grabbed hold of a flaying leg and lifted it as far in the air as he could hastening the surprised Grimshawe`s flip over the top and onto the floor in an undignified heap on the other side.
As soon as he hit the floor Grimshawe bounced up as though made of rubber and, placing one hand on the countertop vaulted back over, his feet knocking boxes of sweets that were in his way onto the floor with a loud clatter as he landed perfectly balanced on his feet in front of Mendoza. Before Mendoza had a chance to react for a second time Grimshawe`s big right fist smashed into his mouth. The force of the punch split his upper lip knocking him backwards as blood gushed out. He did not see the second punch coming as it followed the first one so quickly and then the third.
The Qadesh Club Page 10
