The Heretic's Treasure

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The Heretic's Treasure Page 16

by Scott Mariani


  Why was she calling him? He dreaded having to talk to her, if she called again. And he knew she was sure to. What if she wanted to meet him? He knew that just the sound of her voice might destroy his resolve-that he’d give in and agree to meet up with her somewhere. That just couldn’t happen.

  Part of him was thankful that Harry had agreed to haul anchor and relocate the Scimitar. Zara would be far away, and in time his feelings would diminish. But it also meant he probably would never see her again, and right now he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

  He was still feeling racked with the same uncertainty, and hating himself bitterly for his weakness, as he stepped out into the morning drizzle. He was heading across the yard to dump his empty bottles into the recycling bin when he heard Jeff Dekker’s voice call his name.

  He turned. ‘Hi, Jeff.’ His voice came out as a croak.

  Jeff trotted up to him. The trousers of his fatigues were spattered in mud up to the knee. ‘Glad to see you back. Are you taking the eleven o’clock pistol shooting group?’ He glanced at the empty bottles and looked more closely at Ben’s face. ‘Jesus, mate. You look like—’

  ‘Like shit. So everyone keeps telling me.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I just need to get my head together. I was thinking of going for a good long run.’

  ‘You look more like you need to rest.’

  ‘I’m sick of resting. Running will relax me. Listen, if anyone calls for me—’

  ‘Like Zara, for example?’ Jeff grinned.

  ‘Give me a break. Not you as well.’

  ‘She sounded hot. Anything you’d like to tell me, Ben?’

  Ben sighed. ‘Yeah. Mind your own fucking business.’

  ‘She’s bound to call again,’ Jeff said. ‘You can’t put her off forever.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to her. Tell her anything you like. I’ve gone off and joined the Trappist monks, OK?’

  ‘If she wants to come here, I’m not going to put her off,’ Jeff said. ‘I’m no Trappist monk.’

  ‘Do me a favour, Jeff Ben walked over to the recycling bin and tossed the bottles in one at a time. He whistled for Storm. The German Shepherd burst out of one of the barns, halted suddenly, stiff and alert, then came running over.

  Ben ran his fingers through the dog’s thick coat. ‘Come on, boy. Let’s go and run some of the crap out of our system.’

  Two hours of punishment later, as the drizzle turned into sheeting rain over Le Val, Ben and the dog returned to the house bedraggled and soaking. Storm shook himself in the yard and trotted over to his kennel. Ben walked up to the house and went into the kitchen.

  Jeff Dekker and the six-strong group for the new Counter Attack Team training course were all sitting around the long table eating lunch. Jeff was in the middle of entertaining them with a funny anecdote when Ben walked in. Faces turned to look. ‘Everyone, this is Ben Hope,’ Jeff said, breaking off his story. ‘Come and join us, Ben. I was just telling them about that time when—’

  ‘Great to meet you all,’ Ben interrupted him shortly. ‘Have a good lunch. Maybe see you later.’ He strode up to the wine rack, dripping rainwater across the flagstones, and grabbed a bottle. Snatched a cold chicken leg from the platter in the middle of the table and headed for the door. The room had gone quiet and he could feel all eyes upon him, but he didn’t care. He shoved through the door and headed for his quarters.

  Upstairs, he dumped the bottle and the chicken leg on his desk, stripped off his wet clothes and left them in a heap on the floor as he went for a shower. He spent a long time under the water, turning it up as hot as he could bear it. Afterwards he towelled himself dry and changed into a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. Flopping on the couch, he munched desultorily on the cold chicken and gulped wine from the bottle. It didn’t do much to take the edge off his mood.

  He was just thinking of going downstairs to fetch more Laphroaig from the cellar when his phone rang in his pocket. He dug it out, and his thumb hovered over the reply button for a moment before he decided against answering it. It rang insistently until his answering service kicked in, then went quiet.

  You fucking coward, he seethed at himself. It might not even have been her. You never going to answer your phone again?

  A few moments later, it rang again. He took a deep breath and answered on the second ring.

  He had a message. It was Zara.

  Her voice sounded small and timid. ‘Ben, it’s me. Where are you? I’ve called and called.’ A pause. ‘There are things I have to talk to you about. Important things. Call me back soon, all right?’ Another pause. ‘Love you. Miss you.’

  Then the robotic voice of the answering service was again in his ear. ‘To listen to the message again, press 1…’

  He couldn’t bring himself to delete it. He listened to it again. Decided to call her back. Fuck it.

  He was just about to phone her when there was a thumping on his door and Jeff walked in and stood over him with his arms folded.

  ‘What was that all about?’ he demanded.

  Ben looked at him blankly.

  ‘Jesus, Ben. What’s got into you? The way you behaved in front of those guys.’

  ‘They’re ex-soldiers, Jeff. They’re not a bunch of social workers.’

  ‘They’re our clients, Ben. That’s what they are. Remember that business you used to run?’

  Ben didn’t reply.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like this before, mate,’ Jeff said. ‘I don’t know what the fuck’s going on inside your head, but you need to snap out of it sooner rather than later.’

  Ben just sighed and looked down at his feet.

  Jeff glared at him a second longer and then left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The following morning

  The acres of woodland around Le Val were deep enough to lose yourself in, and Ben meant to do just that. He knew all the little tracks and paths through the forest. Some of them had been there forever, probably created by deer and wild boar, and some of them he’d made himself. Over fallen trees and up earth banks, across the stream and through dense ferns, he ran until his body was screaming for rest.

  In a tiny clearing in the forest was one of the features of Le Val that he loved most-the ruin of an old church dating back to the thirteenth century. There was nothing left but a few crumbled stone walls and the remnants of a tower where generations of doves had made a home for themselves. At its foot was a slab of stone nestling among the wildflowers, where he liked to sit and think, listening to the doves burbling and cooing in their nests. That was where he headed now, with the dog trotting along behind him.

  He sat and listened to the sounds of the forest. Everything was so tranquil. It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was blue above the trees, and the birds were singing. He should have been happy. This place was his home now.

  He knew he had to get a grip on himself. Jeff had been right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start neglecting his business and everything he’d worked so hard to build was going to slip through his fingers.

  But the way Ben was feeling right now, he wanted to shy away from everything. He felt empty inside. He didn’t want to have to deal with people, or have to take care of all those thousands of little tasks that just last week he’d have attended to with enthusiasm.

  There was only one person in the world whose company he longed for. The one person he wasn’t free to be with. He’d left his phone back in the office, avoiding the inevitable call from her.

  He sighed and took out his cigarettes. Jogging and smoking, he thought. First the detox, and then the retox. Great going, Hope. But he didn’t care. Storm watched curiously as he sat there blowing smoke rings that drifted over the ruined walls.

  The dog snapped to attention, suddenly alert, ears pricked up. A second later Ben heard the snap of a twig. He turned.

  Stepping out of the trees, Brooke peered through the ivy-tangled Gothic a
rchway and spotted him sitting there inside the ruined church. ‘Found you,’ she smiled, approaching. The way he was looking at her, she didn’t think he was too happy to have been found. Then he smiled back-but she could see the sadness in his face.

  She walked under the arch towards him. ‘Mind if I join you?’

  He didn’t reply, but shifted along the stone seat to make room for her. Brooke sat down beside him, her knee touching his.

  ‘I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve been exploring. I love it here. And I had a feeling it was the kind of spot Ben Hope would disappear off to when he needed to be alone.’

  ‘You know me pretty well, don’t you, Brooke?’

  ‘Pretty well,’ she said. ‘Well enough to know that something’s eating you.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know I’ve been shit company.’

  ‘I’ve had better, that’s for sure.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘Tell me what’s bugging you. You’ve been like a hen on a hot griddle since you got back. It’s something to do with this Zara who keeps calling. Right?’

  He tossed his cigarette stub away and watched it smoulder in the leaves for a moment, then crushed it with his boot. ‘I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘I think you need to talk about it.’

  ‘There you are, sounding like a psychologist again.’

  ‘I want to help you,’ she said. ‘Won’t you let me? I don’t like to see you suffering like this.’

  ‘It’s my problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘But it matters to me. A lot.’ Brooke wondered if she was saying too much.

  He reached out and touched her nose with brotherly affection. ‘You’re a good friend to me, Brooke.’

  I don’t want to be your friend, she thought. ‘So am I right?’ she asked.

  ‘Right about what?’

  ‘Right about this Zara.’

  ‘You’re right. It’s to do with Zara. Zara Paxton.’

  ‘Paxton. As in Harry Paxton?’

  He nodded glumly.

  ‘Daughter? Sister?’

  ‘Wife.’ Ben turned to look at her. ‘I’m in love with her.’

  Brooke frowned. ‘In love,’ she repeated. ‘Since when?’

  He sighed. ‘Since the first time I saw her. In Italy.’

  ‘But that was just a couple of days ago,’ she said.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Love at first sight? Come on.’

  ‘It’s corny, isn’t it?’ he replied with a chuckle. It sounded mirthless and hollow. ‘Stupid. But that’s how it is and I can’t seem to shake it out of my head.’

  Brooke stiffened a little. ‘This is something of a surprise, Ben.’

  He snorted. ‘And for me. You think I’m happy about it?’

  She bit her lip thoughtfully. ‘Does Zara feel the same about you?’

  ‘Now you really do sound like a psychologist.’

  ‘Does she?’

  Ben sighed. ‘She says she does.’

  ‘I guess that would explain all the phone calls. And does the colonel know about this affair?’

  ‘It’s not an affair,’ Ben said defensively. ‘Nothing’s happened between us.’

  ‘But does he know?’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t. And he’s never going to, because nothing’s ever going to happen.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why do you think I’m not answering her calls?’

  Brooke glanced knowingly at him. ‘Because you’re scared of what you’re feeling.’

  Ben said nothing to that.

  ‘Can I level with you?’ she said.

  He lit another cigarette. ‘You’re going to anyway. Why ask?’

  She measured her words, not wanting to say what she was about to say. ‘Here’s what I think. If you love this woman and she loves you, why don’t you just go for it? You’ve been through a terrible time the last year or so. You’ve been as down as anyone can be. Who wouldn’t, after what happened to Leigh?’

  She paused thoughtfully, then went on. ‘What I’m trying to say is, if now all of a sudden you’ve found someone new that you can love, that makes you one of the luckiest guys in the world. Don’t fight it. We only go around once, Ben.’

  ‘You don’t understand. Harry Paxton saved my life.’

  ‘I know that. So you feel you have a debt of honour to him. That’s admirable. But are you prepared to throw away a chance of real happiness over it? If anyone deserves a break, it’s you.’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘In addition to which, I’m guessing that this Cairo trip was all about paying the debt back. So how much more do you think you owe this Paxton guy?’

  Ben smiled faintly. ‘I didn’t exactly pay it back. Not quite.’

  ‘Get back to the house, Ben. Pick up the damn phone and talk to her. You need to go with your heart.’

  There, she thought. She’d said it. Just about the hardest thing she’d ever had to say to anyone. She wanted to reach out and hold him, tell him how she really felt about him.

  ‘What’s wrong with your eye?’ he said suddenly.

  She reached up quickly and wiped away the tear that was clinging to her lashes. ‘Nothing. Just a speck of dust.’

  ‘Let me have a look,’ he said, bending towards her.

  She turned away. ‘No, it’s all right.’ She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes.

  ‘Come back with me to the house,’ he said. ‘I need to talk to Jeff. Apologise to him for the way I’ve been acting up. And you can rinse out that eye.’

  ‘Think I’ll stay a while. I like being alone here.’

  ‘You’re sure? Know your way back?’

  ‘Found you here, didn’t I?’

  As he was leaving, he reached down and touched her shoulder gently. ‘I’m glad you’re my friend.’

  He walked away, the dog trotting along at his heel.

  Brooke watched him slip away into the trees. Once she was alone, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

  Ben walked into the office to find Jeff sitting at the desk filling out some paperwork.

  He came right out with it. ‘Jeff, I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a prick the last couple of days.’

  Jeff grinned. ‘Yeah, you have. But I forgive you, mate.’

  ‘I need something to do.’

  ‘You can finish this paperwork. I’ve been breaking my balls over it all morning. How’s that for a punishment?’

  ‘That’ll do to begin with,’ Ben said. As he was about to start leafing through the paperwork, his mobile started ringing from the corner of the desk where he’d abandoned it earlier.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Jeff asked.

  ‘It’s her.’

  ‘Better get yourself a new SIM card. Because otherwise you might as well toss that phone in the river, if you’re never going to answer it again.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say to her.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake.’ Jeff snatched the phone up. ‘Le Val.’ He listened for a moment, glanced at Ben. ‘Sorry, he’s not available right now.’

  There was a pause as Jeff listened to the caller talking. Ben could just about make out the sound of their voice. It was a woman. Zara. He knew it.

  ‘OK, hold on.’ Jeff pulled the phone away from his ear and covered it with his palm. ‘She says it’s extremely important.’

  ‘Jeff…don’t do this to me.’

  Jeff shook his head. ‘You don’t get it. It’s not Zara. It’s someone called Kim Valentine.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Says you know her.’

  ‘I don’t know any Kim Valentine.’

  Jeff thrust the phone at him. ‘You’d better talk to her.’

  Ben reluctantly clapped it to his ear. ‘Ben Hope.’

  ‘We need to talk,’ said the woman’s voice on the other end.

  ‘I don’t know you.’ But, even as he said it,
he was thinking he’d heard that voice before.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ she said. ‘You just don’t know it yet.’

  Then Ben was holding a dead phone. ‘She hung up,’ he said to Jeff.

  Suddenly it rang again in his hand. He answered it. This time it was a video call, and Ben stared at the woman’s face on the tiny screen.

  The image was clear. There was no mistaking it. She looked a little different-now the dark hair was scraped back tight in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. But she was definitely the same woman.

  ‘Now you know,’ said Kim Valentine.

  It was Kerry Wallace. The woman he’d rescued on the beach in San Remo.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ben couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He shook his head in bafflement.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Kim Valentine said again. ‘There are things you need to know.’

  He just stared, said nothing.

  ‘I know this comes as a surprise for you,’ she said. ‘But it’s vitally important that you hear what I have to tell you.’

  ‘What’s this about, Kerry? Or Kim, or whatever your name is today.’

  ‘Forget Kerry. Kerry never existed.’

  ‘Which means you set me up,’ he said. ‘The whole thing on the beach was a fake.’ Now he understood the reason he hadn’t been able to find her at the hotel. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘That’s what I need to talk to you about.’

  ‘Then I think you’d better start talking right now.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s complicated. Better that we meet in person. Face to face.’

  ‘You want to talk to me face to face, you come here and explain yourself. I’m not going all the way back to San Re mo.’

  She shook her head. ‘We’re not in Italy any more. We’re in Paris.’

  ‘Why Paris?’

  ‘There are reasons.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘My associates. You’ve already met them. One of them is still wearing the neck brace you put him into.’

 

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