by Susan Lewis
‘You can come, but you can’t interfere.’
‘I don’t want to. I just want you to know I’m there.’
He lifted a hand to touch her face. ‘You’re my strength,’ he said tenderly. ‘And she’s my weakness.’
The next line of the script was the wife’s, ‘So use me to overcome her’, but she wasn’t going to say that. She was only going to hold him, and love him, and use the entire might of her will to bring them through this in a way, please God, that would avoid anything like the tragic denouement of the film.
Chapter 17
A DENSE, EARLY morning dew covered the airfield as Chris Gallagher and an aircraft mechanic walked towards one of the hangars that was framed in the hazy orange glow of sunrise. The building’s shadow spilled out over the tarmac and quickly absorbed theirs as they disappeared inside. Rudy was striding along a short distance behind, talking rapidly to the person at the other end of the phone.
‘How many passengers today?’ the mechanic asked, as they approached the twin-engine plane.
‘Two,’ Chris answered. ‘The other’ll be along shortly. Could you take a look at the transponder, air traffic queried it when I brought her in yesterday, it seemed to be giving a false reading.’
‘No problem,’ the mechanic responded.
As they reached the plane he slapped the mechanic on the shoulder, then turned to Rudy, who was just ending his call. ‘So?’ he said.
‘Bombola’s already in Paris. Franz is arriving later today.’
‘What about the Dubai operation?’
‘Everything’s on schedule. There’re people out there already paving the way.’
Chris nodded, thoughtfully. Then changing the subject he said, ‘Did Franz say how the search in the Virgin Islands was going?’
‘No sign of her, apparently, but they’re not finished yet.’
‘So I guess we have to assume that he really doesn’t know where she is,’ Chris said.
‘It sure doesn’t look like it.’
‘Then what’s the story behind what happened to Hendon?’ Chris wondered. ‘Why would she be hiding from Franz when he set her up for it?’
Rudy shrugged. ‘She knows everything, and you know how much Franz hates that. It makes him vulnerable. He’s pretty ticked off over this Lachère character too. They thought he was someone she went to college with, but it turned out they were wrong.’
Chris’s eyebrows arched. ‘I take it he’s the man who was with her in the Caribbean,’ he said.
‘Not confirmed, but everyone’s assuming so.’
Chris’s expression revealed nothing as glancing at his watch he said, ‘OK. We’re in good time. I need to make a call.’
Misty bands of sunlight were beginning to seep into the hangar’s dark hollow as he walked back towards the open air, punching in Stacey’s mobile number. After three rings Petey answered.
‘Is she there?’ Chris said.
‘You’re in luck, she’s just about to go on set. I’ll pass you over.’
A moment later Stacey’s voice came softly down the line. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘Thanks for calling me back.’
‘You must have had an early start this morning,’ he said, ‘it’s only just after six.’
‘I did,’ she confirmed, then yawned, as though to prove it. ‘Sorry,’ she laughed.
‘Are you all right? You sounded upset in your message.’
‘No, I’m OK. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t heard from you much this last week or so.’
‘I’m sorry. Things have been hectic.’
‘So where are you? Or shouldn’t I ask?’
‘I’m in England, but about to leave.’
‘I spoke to Elwyn and Felicity. They said you’d been in Cornwall.’
‘Yes. For a while.’
Though there was no rebuke, he knew she was hurt that he hadn’t told her, but if he had he knew she’d have tried to rearrange her schedule to get down there too, and though it might have looked as if he was taking some time out that he could easily have spent with his wife, it definitely hadn’t been the case.
‘When will you be back from wherever you’re going now?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure. It could be a couple of days, or a couple of weeks.’
In the background he heard someone speak to her, then to him she said, ‘Can you hang on? Don’t go, will you?’
‘No,’ he responded.
As he waited he struggled with his conscience, for she was clearly feeling insecure and in need of reassurance, which was rare for her. Still, he could hardly blame her when this added role he was playing for Franz Koehler was forcing him to spend so much time away from her now.
‘Darling, are you there?’ she said, coming back on the line.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘I’m alone now, so I can speak. I just want to know if you’re avoiding me because of the baby thing.’
His eyes closed, as much in exasperation as in guilt, for this was hardly the time to discuss it.
‘It is about that, isn’t it?’ she prompted.
‘Listen, I’ll call you tonight,’ he said. ‘We can talk then.’
‘OK.’ Then after a pause, ‘You know, there’s nothing between Robert Maxton and me, just in case that’s what’s bothering you. It’s all just a silly game.’
‘I know,’ he told her.
She hesitated, then with a smile in her voice she said, ‘Tell me you love me.’
‘You know I do,’ he responded.
‘Say it.’
‘I love you, and I miss you, and I’ll come home as soon as I can.’
‘I love you too,’ she purred.
After ringing off he turned back into the hangar to find Rudy coming towards him.
‘OK, our guest is about to arrive,’ Rudy announced, with jaunty eyebrows, ‘and is very much looking forward to meeting Professor Bombola and Herr Koehler, I’m told.’
Chris’s smile was thin. ‘I’m sure the pleasure will be all his,’ he commented, walking on towards the Rockwell. He was about to call out to the mechanic when his personal mobile rang again. Assuming it was Stacey calling back, he lifted the phone to his ear. ‘Hello?’ he said softly.
For a moment there was only the background sound of a station, or a busy street, then a female voice said, ‘Chris? Is that you?’
He hesitated, recognizing the voice immediately, though he was slightly thrown that she had called him now, so early in the morning – and when it was Stacey’s voice he’d been expecting to hear. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ he responded, turning aside from Rudy. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine,’ Rachel answered. ‘I hope you don’t mind me calling, it’s just … Sorry, can you hear me, it’s a bit noisy here.’
‘Yes, I can hear you. Where are you?’
‘At Heathrow.’ She laughed. ‘You’re going to think I’m crazy, I know, and I probably am, but I’ve been in touch with the woman who manages the villa on Virgin Gorda, and it’s free for the next week, so I’m going over there to find out what I can about Katherine. Mrs Willard doesn’t think she’s on the island any more, but –’
‘Hang on, hang on,’ he cut in. ‘I thought Laurie was investigating this?’
‘She is, but she’s going to Washington on Tuesday, and I just feel that we should be on this now. I was going to ask Anna to come, but she’s too busy with the film …’
‘But you’re not allowed to fly.’
‘I’m not that far gone yet,’ she assured him. Then with a laugh, ‘though I’m starting to look it.’
He was silent, wondering how the hell he was going to talk her out of this. In the end all he managed was, ‘You can’t go alone.’
‘I could,’ she retorted, ‘but I was kind of hoping … Well, I mean, if you’re free … I know you’re probably not, and why would you want to …’
He was quietly reeling. If the timing could be worse for this, he’d like to know how. Turning to Rudy he opened his eyes wi
de, to show alarm. ‘Rachel, I don’t think this is a good idea,’ he told her bluntly. ‘It’s where you were going with Tim. Have you thought about how painful that’s going to be?’
‘Yes, but I can handle it, and honestly, I have to do something. I can’t just sit down there in Killian twiddling my thumbs and reading old letters, and please don’t tell me I’m hormonal and incapable of thinking rationally, because though it might be true, it’s patronizing, and it isn’t going to change my mind. We know Katherine was on Virgin Gorda, we know which name she was using, we’ve even got a photo from the passport, so it makes sense to go and find out what we can. Or what I can, if you don’t want to come. Sorry, I’m sure I’m asking too much.’
Everything they had set up for the next three weeks was flashing through his mind. Though he only had parts of the picture, he knew very well that dozens of people were already preparing to receive and dispatch, then communicate and disappear. And his own role was to be key since he was due to receive a new shipment of cash at a Dubai airfield twenty-one days from now. The logistics of that were still being worked on, though not by him. The information he needed would come via a hotmail, or mobile phone, some time in the next week … So his actual presence this side of the Atlantic wasn’t really vital until a couple of days before the operation – and if Rachel was going looking for Katherine Sumner then someone had to go with her, and that someone absolutely should be him.
‘Are you still there?’ she asked. ‘Have I shocked you?’
‘No. I was just thinking. You say you’re at Heathrow?’ He was looking at his watch. ‘Jesus, what time did you leave this morning?’
‘I caught the train up last night and stayed at a hotel. I’ve been trying to call you, but I’ve only just got through. Hang on, I need to put some more money in.’ A beat later she said, ‘I’m meeting Laurie’s partner, Danny, in a minute. He’s bringing a camera and some stock so I can get some footage for the programme.’
‘So Laurie knows about this?’
‘Yes, and she doesn’t approve either, but I’m booked on a flight now …’
‘At what time?’
‘Ten o’clock. Where are you? Are you still in London?’
‘Sort of.’ His eyes were back on Rudy. ‘OK. Count me in,’ he said. ‘Book me a seat on the same flight. I’ll get there as soon as I can.’
Without waiting for her thanks he rang off, and started towards the Rockwell. ‘Rachel Hendon’s taking herself on a trip to the Caribbean to look for Katherine Sumner,’ he told Rudy as he fell in beside him.
Rudy’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. ‘Holy shit!’ he murmured. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Go with her. What else can I do?’
‘Are you crazy, man? You can’t do that.’
Ignoring him, Chris ducked under a wing of the aircraft to go and talk to the mechanic. A moment later he was back. ‘We need to know what she knows, agreed?’ he said.
‘Sure, and I understand why someone has to go with her,’ Rudy said. ‘But not you. Not now.’
‘Then who would you suggest?’ Chris countered. ‘Who do you know that she’d allow to go with her, that’s of any use to us?’
‘We can get someone who’s already over there to watch her,’ Rudy replied. ‘She doesn’t have to know they’re there.’
Chris picked up the luggage he’d dumped next to the plane and swung a holdall over his shoulder. ‘And how much of what she finds out do you suppose she’s going to tell this person watching her?’ he said, and started out of the hangar.
Rudy went after him. ‘She’s not going to find out any more than Franz’s detectives,’ he protested.
‘Can you guarantee that?’
Rudy’s expression was bleak. ‘You’re needed here, man,’ he said.
‘Look,’ Chris responded, ‘everything for the next couple of weeks is going to happen by phone or email, and the last I heard, the Virgin Islands has both. So here, there, what difference does it make? And if Katherine Sumner happens to still be around over there, knowing all there is to know about the Special Project, the last thing Franz is going to want is her getting together with Rachel Hendon, right?’
Finally Rudy said, ‘OK, but even if you do manage to square this with Franz, and I can see why it has to be you, what about her?’
Chris threw him a quick glance. ‘What about her?’ he said.
‘Well this isn’t just any dumb broad you’re talking about here,’ Rudy reminded him. ‘So don’t you think she’s going to find it just a little bit strange that you can drop everything at a moment’s notice to go out there with her?’
‘I’ve got clients out there.’
‘Clients? What kind of clients?’
Chris’s expression was tight. ‘I’ve got another life,’ he reminded him.
They’d reached Chris’s car by now, and as he threw his bags in on top of a guitar case, a black Porsche pulled up next to them.
Rudy turned round. ‘Looks like our paying passenger’s just arrived,’ he murmured disapprovingly.
As Elliot Russell got out of the car Rudy walked round to greet him.
‘One way to Orly,’ Elliot said, using the code he’d been given.
Rudy shook his hand, while glancing over at Chris as he got into the driver’s seat of his car. ‘Slight change of plan,’ Rudy informed Elliot. ‘It’s going to be just the two of us flying today. I’m your pilot.’
Elliot glanced at Chris too, then reached back inside the car for his luggage.
‘Only final transactions are being conducted today and tomorrow,’ Rudy told him. ‘New initiatives will be on the agenda for the two days following, so I hope you’re prepared for a wait.’
‘I have as long as it takes,’ Elliot replied, taking a mobile phone from his pocket as it rang.
Chris was watching him closely, his dark eyes glinting suspiciously. He was sure he knew that face, but couldn’t seem to place it.
Rudy came back to the car, and stooped down to the driver’s window.
‘What’s his name again?’ Chris said.
‘Hastings. Mark Hastings.’
Chris looked at Elliot. The name wasn’t familiar.
Rudy said, ‘Make Franz your number one call. I don’t want him on my phone before he knows what’s happening.’
Chris nodded, and started the engine. ‘I’ll keep in touch,’ he said.
‘You better.’
Laurie’s face was taut with concentration as she typed rapidly into her computer, setting out a provisional running order for the programme, based on what they’d learned so far. Though the potential magnitude of it was certainly not lost on her, the very real apprehension of where it might lead them was, for the moment, comfortably at bay as she went through this routine discipline of planning.
Her notes, reference books, printouts and audio tapes had all but taken over Rhona’s dining table, which was in the corner of the L that connected the small, but artfully Moorish, kitchen and rather harem-style sitting room. Behind her the evening sunlight was starting to dwindle over the river, while a gentle, cooling breeze drifted in through the open window.
‘There you go,’ Rhona said, plonking down a tall, frosted glass full of rum punch. ‘Probably not as good as you make it, but I don’t expect any complaints.’
‘Thanks,’ Laurie mumbled, barely looking up.
Neither surprised, nor offended, Rhona sauntered on into the sitting room, pausing a moment to glance in the mirror, where her reflection showed a woman whose features were too large and irregular to make her a conventional beauty, but whose brazenly voluptuous figure and wickedly suggestive eyes made it certain that she’d never be short of admirers. However, as far as lovers went, she’d lately been restricting herself to just the one who’d bought her this lovely river-view apartment, which was his home too during his occasional visits to London.
Moving on to where she’d left the page proofs of a new book that she, as a publisher’s publicist, would
soon be promoting, she put her drink on a small, Indian table, and sank into the pile of sumptuous cushions beside it. She was just getting engrossed in the book again when Laurie suddenly said,
‘You know, this is one of those situations where the answer could be a million miles away, unless you just happen to walk round the right corner and bump smack right into it.’
Rhona’s eyes remained on the page. ‘Are we still talking about Elliot, or have we moved on?’ she asked.
At the mention of Elliot’s name Laurie’s heart turned over. ‘Elliot?’ she said, frowning. ‘I’m talking about the story I’m working on for the programme.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘Why did you think I meant Elliot?’
‘I can’t imagine,’ Rhona responded wryly.
At that Laurie rolled her eyes and picked up her drink. ‘Sorry if I’m boring you,’ she said, taking a sip while pulling her notebook out from under a sheaf of papers.
‘You’re not. I’m just trying to keep up, that’s all. Because one minute we’re discussing Elliot, the next Rachel Hendon, the next some wicked professor and his Swiss friend, and now, hello programme.’
Laurie laughed. ‘Actually, they’re all one and the same thing,’ she said, ‘though Elliot’s more of an overlap.’ Resting her chin on one hand she began another multi-front assault on the various developments in the Hendon case, until a few minutes later she was back to Elliot as she said, ‘Do you think he is seeing someone else?’
Rhona’s sleepy dark eyes gave a flicker of amusement. ‘Darling, why not apply that marvellous brain of yours to a problem that really needs solving,’ she said, ‘instead of allowing it to plague you with issues that don’t exist?’
Laurie smiled. ‘So you don’t think he is,’ she said.
‘No. And nor do you. In fact, I still don’t know why you’re here, because it seems pretty obvious to me that he loves you, even if he does have a hard time saying it, so you’re either just being obtuse, or you’ve got some other agenda going that you’re not admitting to.’
At that a faint heat coloured Laurie’s cheeks, but thankfully Rhona’s eyes were still on the book, so abruptly changing the subject she said, ‘You know, I’m still not sure what to think about Rachel Hendon going off to the Caribbean like that.’
