by Jim Eldridge
‘You still think it was Guy who texted you?’
‘Yes, I do. Call it a hunch, but he’s the only person I can think of who’d do it.’
‘Even though, according to the police, Pierce Randall say he’s safe?’
‘Because Pierce Randall say he’s safe,’ said Jake sarcastically. ‘So, what did you find out?’
‘That the de Courceys are definitely heavily involved in the Malichea books,’ said Lauren.
She went to her laptop and began to flick her fingers over the keys. A genealogical family tree appeared on the screen.
‘The de Courcey family tree,’ she said. She scrolled down until the screen showed a date of 1539. She pointed to two names. ‘Edgar de Courcey. He was the librarian of the Order of Malichea from 1536 until 1539.’
‘The year that Glastonbury was destroyed and The Index and the Journal vanished,’ said Jake.
‘And Edgar de Courcey died that same year. It wouldn’t surprise me to find he was a victim of Henry VIII’s purge of the monasteries.’ Lauren’s finger moved to the other name on the screen. ‘Earl William de Courcey, brother of Edgar. Direct ancestor of your cellmate.’
‘So it looks like it fits. Edgar de Courcey realises what’s about to happen, and gives The Index and the Journal of the Order of Malichea to his brother, William, for safe keeping. And the books get put away in the library at de Courcey Hall, right up until . . . when?’
‘Until very recently, if I’m right,’ said Lauren. ‘Earl William died in 1563 and the title continued to be passed on down the line, right up to the present day.’
‘Right up to the new earl, our vanished friend, Guy,’ murmured Jake.
Lauren nodded.
‘According to what I’ve been able to find out, the family lived in their ancestral home of de Courcey Hall in Kent right up until 2012, when the hall was given to the National Trust by Guy’s father — Earl Edwyn de Courcey.’
‘Yes, that’s what Guy told me.’ Jake nodded.
‘Shortly afterwards, Earl Edwyn died, and Guy inherited the title,’ added Lauren. ‘But, as Guy was away at the time, he didn’t immediately claim it. It’s possible he didn’t even know his father was dead. Apparently there was no love lost between Guy and his father.’
She typed in the words ‘Guy de Courcey’, and selected one of the entries that came up. It was a brief biog telling them that Guy de Courcey was the last surviving member of the de Courcey family, that he was twenty-two years old. Lauren flicked the keys again, and a series of reports came up, mostly from gossip columns. They learnt that Guy had been expelled from his public school, had been arrested on different occasions for smuggling contraband into foreign countries, but had usually been released after ‘judicial compensation’ had been paid.
‘Bribes,’ commented Jake. ‘He told me his solicitors had paid to have him bailed out, but he also said they weren’t the sort who paid bribes.’
‘So who did pay them?’ asked Lauren. ‘He told you he was broke.’
‘He told me quite a few things,’ said Jake. ‘I’m still not sure how true they all were, especially now he’s vanished.’
‘According to the internet gossip, Guy’s last known address was in Brazil,’ said Lauren.
‘But Pierce Randall traced him to Mexico,’ said Jake.
‘That’s what he told you,’ said Lauren. ‘We still don’t know for sure if he was telling you the truth.’
‘Or if Pierce Randall are telling the truth when they say that Guy is safe in their hands,’ said Jake. He frowned. ‘Know what I think?’
‘What?’
‘I think we ought to check out Pierce Randall at their HQ.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re the key figures here. Their CEO, Alex Munro, gets shot. They get one of his alleged killers out on bail and hide him away. Whatever’s going on, they’re the ones who are running things. They’re the ones who know what’s really happening.’
‘And how will that help us?’
‘Once we get to the bottom of what’s really going on, we’ll be able to prove I’m innocent of killing Munro.’
‘It’s worth a try,’ said Lauren.
‘It’s the only option we’ve got,’ said Jake. ‘Do you remember the name of their solicitor who bailed Guy out?’
Lauren shook her head.
‘I was only interested in getting you out,’ she said. ‘We could always ask DI Bullen.’
‘And my guess is he’ll tell us he’s not allowed to pass on information about other individuals,’ sighed Jake. Then an idea hit him. ‘That solicitor who got me out of custody before!’
‘When?’
‘When they found that dead body in my flat, when all this started. You know, the solicitor from Pierce Randall who arrived at the police station and got me out. What was her name?’ He frowned, struggling to remember.
Lauren shook her head.
‘I didn’t know anything about her. I had troubles of my own.’ She shuddered at her own memory of those times.
‘Sue Clark!’ he burst out. ‘That was her name!’ He picked up his mobile and began searching the listings for Pierce Randall’s phone number.
‘What are you going to ask her?’
‘I’m going to ask if she can arrange for us to see Guy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, like I said, I think he’s in trouble. Either Pierce Randall are keeping him prisoner, or someone else is.’
‘In which case, we won’t be able to see Guy.’
‘And then we’ll know for sure he’s being held against his will.’
‘Or maybe they just want him kept away from us.’
Jake shrugged. ‘Maybe. But at least we’ll get some idea of what’s really going on.’
‘Only if she agrees to see us,’ said Lauren.
‘She’ll see us,’ said Jake grimly. ‘I’m going to make her an offer she can’t refuse.’
The young man hung up his phone. So, Jake Wells and Lauren Graham were on the move. Pierce Randall was their next stop. Good. Things were moving, but not as fast as he would have liked. It was time to step the game up a gear. To move on from just tracking them, hunting them, watching as they made the moves he wanted them to make. It was time to give them a push towards the edge. Then, when they’d delivered, he could kick them over that edge. Dead.
He wondered about Gareth Findlay-Weston. It had been a bold move on his part, the right move to make, but had it got him any further towards his goal?
And then there were ‘the others’. His crew. Sharp, eager, vicious. Should he set them on Jake and his girlfriend?
No, not just yet. He’d see what Jake did, first. See if he went in a direction that was different, not predictable. He’d see what came out of their visit to Pierce Randall.
Chapter 9
Jake and Lauren sat in the reception area of Pierce Randall’s offices, doing their best to look outwardly calm and confident. It wasn’t easy. Both of them knew the deadly power that Pierce Randall could wield, had wielded. The firm pushed the law to its very limits, and — if that didn’t work — then they used blackmail and even murder to get what they wanted. And Pierce Randall got away with it because they were The Law, with fingers in the legislation of almost every country across the world. They were a firm with power, and it showed in this building, Pierce Randall’s London HQ: a wonder of twenty-first-century architecture, glass and steel, the reception area a vast open space decorated with sculptures and plants.
We really have walked right into the dragon’s den, reflected Jake nervously. He realised from the way Lauren tapped her fingers rhythmically on the arm of the chair that she felt the same apprehension.
Jake remembered when he’d last been here, over a year ago. Then, he’d been brought to meet Alex Munro for the first time and had been offered the chance to work in partnership with the law firm to recover the hidden books. Munro had appeared sincere, genuine, even caring. As Jake was to discover later, that had all been a fro
nt. The only things that Pierce Randall cared about were money and power. That was how they’d built up their financial empire. For them, the hidden books of Malichea represented both money and power. That was why Jake was dangling the offer of one in front of them now.
A tall man in a neat dark suit approached them.
‘Mr Wells? Ms Graham?’ he asked politely.
‘Yes.’ Jake and Lauren stood up.
‘My name’s James. I am Ms Clark’s personal assistant. I’m to take you up to see her, if you’ll follow me.’
Jake and Lauren exchanged nervous looks as they followed the tall man towards the security gates. This was it!
James swiped his pass through a security scanner, and kept the gate open while Jake and Lauren came through. He then headed towards the lifts.
The journey up in the lift was fast and smooth. They stopped at the fifteenth floor, and followed James along a plushly carpeted corridor to a glass-walled office. He tapped at the door and announced, ‘Mr Wells and Ms Graham, Ms Clark.’
‘Thank you, James,’ said Clark.
Sue Clark hadn’t changed much since Jake had last seen her, when she’d sprung him from a police interrogation room and a charge of murder. She was a woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a smart and expensive-looking charcoal-grey suit, and with a look of intense anger in her eyes, barely hidden beneath her stern expression.
Clark indicated the two chairs on the other side of the desk, and Jake and Lauren sat down as James left.
‘On the phone you said you had one of the books to offer,’ said Clark.
‘Straight down to business?’ queried Jake. ‘No social niceties?’
‘You are accused of killing someone who was very important to this firm, and to me personally,’ said Clark curtly. ‘I have no wish for us to be friends.’ She turned to Lauren and added, ‘You and I have never met, Ms Graham, but I have heard a lot about you. Anyone who can do what you did and get away with it is someone who deserves some kind of respect.’
The sneering way that Clark said it made Lauren feel anger rising inside her. Jake was obviously aware of her reaction, because he reached out a hand and rested it on Lauren’s thigh, warning her to stay calm.
Clark turned back to Jake and said curtly, ‘Now we’ve got the social niceties out of the way, can we get down to why you’re here. You said you have a book to offer us. Why, when you’ve spent all your energies so far opposing us getting hold of them?’
‘Because I’m charged with murder,’ said Jake. ‘The books will be no use to me if I’m in prison.’
‘You want us to represent you?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Jake. ‘But right now we need to see Guy de Courcey, and we’d like you to arrange that.’
Clark shook her head.
‘We’ve advised Lord de Courcey not to have any contact with you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you are both accused of Alex Munro’s murder, with the suggestion of conspiracy. In our opinion, contact with you could compromise his position in this case. We think it best if you and he remain separate.’
‘What if I became your client?’ asked Jake.
‘Why would we want to take on your case?’ countered Clark.
‘You’ve always said you wanted to work with me before,’ Jake pointed out.
‘That was different,’ said Clark. Then she added carefully, ‘Unless you really have got one of the books to offer.’
‘You don’t trust me?’ asked Jake. ‘You think I’m lying about the book?’
‘I’ve got an open mind on the question,’ said Clark. ‘However, I do keep asking myself: why would you suddenly offer me the book?’
‘I’ve already told you, I’ve got a murder charge hanging over me,’ replied Jake.
‘And, if you really have got hold of one of the books, why haven’t you put it out into the public domain, as you both have said you wanted to do with the books?’ added Clark.
‘Because our experiences have taught us to be very careful,’ put in Lauren quickly. ‘We still don’t know who we can trust.’
‘And suddenly you’ve decided you can trust us?’ queried Clark suspiciously.
‘No,’ admitted Jake. ‘But right now I’m in deep trouble, and using the book as a bargaining chip is the best way of getting out of it.’ He shrugged. ‘There are other books.’
Clark studied Jake’s face carefully, trying to see if he was lying.
‘We’d need to have sight of the book first,’ she said.
Jake shook his head.
‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘The last time I handed over one of the books to you, it was taken off me and I was thrown out of the building with nothing.’
Clark fell silent again, and Jake could almost see her mind whirring and working.
‘We’d need some kind of proof from you, first,’ she said. ‘You could be bluffing.’
‘What about a photograph?’ suggested Lauren.
‘A photograph?’
‘A film, even better,’ continued Lauren. ‘We record us holding the book, and then opening the first page so you can get a look at it.’
‘And then what?’ asked Clark.
‘You let us meet Guy, and you sign the necessary paperwork to say you’ll represent Jake in this case, and we’ll hand the book over to you.’
‘As easily as that?’ queried Clark, her voice filled with disbelief.
‘Do I have to say it again? I’ve got a murder charge hanging over me,’ said Jake. ‘The book will be no use to me if I end up in prison.’
Clark fell silent again. Obviously she hadn’t expected this offer.
Finally, she said, ‘I’ll have to take this up with the senior partners. As I’ve said, Lord de Courcey is in a very secure and protected environment, for his own safety, and the senior partners will need to be persuaded it’s in our firm’s interests to let you see him.’
‘Tell them about our offer,’ said Jake. ‘One of the lost books of Malichea.’
‘With the photograph and the video as proof,’ reminded Lauren.
‘Very well,’ said Clark. ‘I’ll pass that on to them. And you’ll hear from me shortly.’
Chapter 10
As Jake and Lauren left the building, Jake whispered, ‘Are you crazy?’
‘What?’ asked Lauren.
‘That offer of videoing us with one of the books! I was just going to offer her the idea of a book!’
Lauren shrugged. ‘She didn’t believe you. We needed to show her some proof.’
‘But we don’t have one of the books to film!’
‘No problem. We said we’d only show them the cover, and the first page. We fake one. We’ve seen the books before, we know what they look like. They’re not going to be able to examine it up close.’
‘They’ll want to once we’ve talked to Guy.’
‘So, we tell them we don’t have it.’
‘That we lied to them?’
Lauren shrugged again. ‘Pierce Randall make their living by lying. It’s what they do. This way they’ll be getting a taste of their own medicine.’
‘Lauren, Pierce Randall kill people who cheat them.’
Lauren scowled deeply.
‘That woman annoyed me! The way she treated me! I wanted to wipe that smug look off her face by giving her something to think about. Anyway, are you satisfied now?’
‘About the fact we could end up dead?’
‘About Guy,’ said Lauren. ‘She said she’d be able to fix up a meeting with him.’
‘From his “secure and protected environment”,’ quoted Jake. ‘That sounds like he’s a prisoner to me.’
‘Yes, but he’s in their hands, not anyone else’s.’
They headed towards the nearest underground station. They were just nearing the entrance when a man stepped in their path.
‘Stop,’ he said curtly.
Lauren saw the glint of metal in the man’s hand.
‘Jake, he’s got a knife!’ she whispered.
‘Where is Guy de Courcey?’ demanded the man, and now Jake could hear his accent, a very guttural Spanish.
‘Guy?’ he echoed.
‘Do not try to run!’ snapped the man. ‘My men are right behind you.’
Jake looked round, and saw a very tall, muscular man standing behind them. One of his hands was in his pocket, the other bunched into a fist.
Jake turned back.
‘Look, we don’t know where Guy de Courcey is . . .’ he began.
The man scowled.
‘I do not believe you!’ He gestured back along the road. ‘You have just been to Pierce Randall.’
‘Yes, but . . .’ began Jake.
The man glared at him.
‘Get in the van!’ he snapped.
‘Van?’
Parked on the kerb was a small van with ‘HO Rentals’ painted on the side. A third man was sitting behind the steering wheel.
‘Listen,’ Jake said, angrily. ‘I don’t know what you think . . .’
‘Get in the van!’ repeated the man, his voice angrier this time. He pointed the knife towards Lauren. ‘And no shouting or she die.’
‘Look, we don’t know where Guy de Courcey is . . .’ protested Jake.
The man moved towards Lauren and placed the blade of his knife near her stomach.
‘OK,’ said Jake quickly.
Jake and Lauren climbed into the back of the van. There were no seats inside, just the bare metal of the floor. The two men climbed in after them and pulled the van doors shut. The leader said something in Spanish to the driver, and the van pulled away.
‘Listen,’ Jake appealed again, ‘neither of us know where Guy de Courcey is. We’re guessing you know him, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing this. But we’d never met him, or even heard about him, until the other day.’
‘Jake Wells?’ asked the man suspiciously.
‘Yes,’ admitted Jake.
‘Guy said he coming to England to meet you.’
‘You’re from Mexico!’ said Lauren with a burst of sudden realisation. She turned to Jake. ‘Remember, Guy told you he was in Mexico when Pierce Randall contacted him.’
