by Nick Hale
‘Honey,’ said his mum, ‘why don’t you see if you can get any further with my broken camera? It’s in the car. You’ve got your laptop now too.’
Jake could hear the note of stress in his mum’s voice. She didn’t need a hero. She had never put up with his dad’s overprotectiveness, either.
‘Sure, Mum,’ said Jake. ‘I could do with some fresh air.’
He went outside, letting his anger cool, and opened the boot. Inside he found the damaged camera and his laptop. Now he needed somewhere to work, away from the glaring eyes of Granble’s goons.
Jake did a quick circuit of the church. He passed the church’s main doors, two tall timber panels with a smaller door cut away. All locked. Around the far side, a narrow alley led to a metal gate that opened back on to the street. Worth a look. Jake went along the alley. Halfway down, and slightly recessed, was another door, hinged with thick iron embossing. It looked like it had been there for as long as the church. The door had been boarded up but the wood was rotting. One board dangled from a single nail. Jake gave the door a stiff yank and it gave way.
He quickly checked left and right, then went inside. He found himself in a room with a simple table and what looked like the remains of wooden hanging closets, now worm-eaten, lined up side by side. The vestry. He laughed to himself: this was the room where Abri and the others had been changing the other day. He tried not to think about that too hard. There was a door back into the main part of the church, and against the opposite wall were a couple of steps leading up to another doorway. Jake crossed quickly and found it was a second entrance to the spiral stairwell, dimly lit through lead-framed windows.
Jake sat on the steps and opened up his laptop, plugging his mum’s camera into the USB socket. He found the files and copied them to his hard drive. Since it would take a few minutes to download, Jake thought he’d quickly check on his mum. He went to peer through into the nave. Hayley was still snapping away. Marissa was close by her, watching like a hawk. Jake finally noticed Granble himself, standing in the shadows to one side at the back.
His laptop gave a muted beep – the files had finished copying. Jake closed the door slowly and went back to his computer. He opened a batch of six photos. They were the shots his mum had taken at the airport. There was nothing wrong with them, which meant the electronic files were undamaged. Jake skipped past, embarrassed.
Those were some photos I’d have been happy to lose!
Next were the candids of the models in the street. There were some of them buying coffees, laughing at a joke, sitting on the kerbside. Just like three girlfriends out having fun. Well, three impossibly hot girlfriends. Seeing Abri again made Jake’s mouth go a little dry.
There was one shot where she leant against a wall, looking to one side, like she was waiting for someone. Jake couldn’t help but zoom in on her face. Perfect bone structure, almond–shaped eyes, lips slightly parted …
But then something else caught Jake’s eye. Further down the street, in the same shot, Sienna was speaking to someone. A guy, sitting on a moped. He didn’t look like a model. Maybe Sienna wasn’t as icy as she pretended. The pair were almost out of shot, and slightly blurred. If he hadn’t zoomed in, he would have missed them.
There was a noise – a soft woomf, and a camera flash came through a crack in the door.
Then a scream cut the air.
11
Jake put down the camera quickly and stood up. He heard raised voices. Shouting in Italian, and his mother’s voice, panicked. ‘What’s happening?’
There was another flash, and the same strange noise, like a muffled explosion.
Jake ran to the door and put his eye to the crack. If there was one thing St Petersburg had taught him, it was to assess the situation and not run in blindly.
Smoke filled the nave in a billowing cloud. Through the fog, Jake saw his mother lying draped over a pew. Beside her Marissa was on the floor on her back. Granble was on the floor, a hand thrown up over his mouth. Jaap crawled on his hands and knees along the central aisle. Then he, too, collapsed.
Jake ran out into the church, towards his mother’s body.
‘Mum!’ Jake shouted. But something was wrong. The air scorched his throat and his eyes streamed with tears. His legs felt weak and numb, like he was dragging himself through thick mud.
Ten metres short of his mother, Jake tripped, and put out his hand to stop himself. His brain felt like a wet sponge, his head spun with dizziness and he thought he was going to be sick. He fell sideways, and his head thumped into the cold stone. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t lift his neck.
Stay awake, Bastin.
As he lay there trying not to breath, two figures appeared through the smoke. They were dressed in black fatigues, and wore gas masks. They moved among the bodies steadily. Jake wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. The burn in his throat was getting worse, his brain feeling wetter.
The guys from the airport. It has to be.
The figures reached the altar. One held open some sort of drawstring purse, while the other swept the diamonds inside. They helped themselves to the pieces still in the case. It took less than ten seconds and with a nod to each other the black–clad figures swept out again. Jake couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
The world went black.
*
‘Jake! Jake, baby. Wake up!’
The room was spinning. Shadows moved above him. Voices.
Jake opened his eyes. His mother was crouched over him, her hair a mess.
‘Mum?’
Her face broke into a weak smile. Jake tried to push himself up on to his elbows, but slumped back. He felt a pain on his head and reached to feel it. Blood. He’d opened up his scab from Russia.
‘Are you OK, Mum?’
‘I think so, but take it easy. They used some sort of stun grenades. Poison gas.’
Jake tried to get up again, but his head swooned. He fell back down with a thud. He looked at his mum. The smoke had cleared all but the upper reaches of the church.
‘It was a professional job,’ Jake said. ‘They had masks.’
‘You saw them?’ snapped a man. It was Jaap. He pushed one of the lighting assistants aside, and looked down at Jake. ‘How many?’
‘Two,’ said Jake.
‘Impossible,’ said Jaap. ‘I had my best men on the entrance.’
‘I’m telling you what I saw,’ said Jake. He used a palm flat on the floor to steady himself and Hayley helped him get to his feet. ‘They took the diamonds?’
His mum nodded. ‘Luckily, no one seems to have been seriously hurt.’
Jaap, looking white with fury, snorted. Clearly he would have traded the lives of everyone in the church for those stones.
They made their way outside into the sun. One of the security guards was holding a bloodied shirt to the side of his head, the other was drinking from a water bottle with a shaky hand. Jaap snapped at them in Afrikaans, and they mumbled words of what Jake guessed were apology.
What the hell just happened?
He suddenly felt angry. Had his dad suspected something like this might happen? Is that why he’d pawned him off on his mum the moment they hit Milan?
Granble was on the phone, pacing back and forth. He was speaking urgently, and didn’t seem to care if anyone heard. ‘This is a temporary setback, I tell you … No, there’s no need for that, not yet … It must have been an inside job … That’s right, a leak … My top people … Who else? Well, the models, the photographer, of course …’
Jake realised that Jaap was glaring at him. The thug sidled over.
‘Where did you come from?’ he snarled. ‘You were supposed to be outside the church.’
‘I was in the old vestry,’ said Jake coldly. ‘I heard a scream, but when I came in everyone was already out cold.’
‘Very convenient!’ Jaap said. ‘Can you prove it?’
Jake felt his fists curling into balls. The South African had the look of a brawler, wit
h a caved nose that had been broken at least once.
I’ll be happy to break it for you again, thought Jake.
His mum stepped between them. ‘That’s enough!’
Jaap stepped away with a snarl to Granble’s side, and Jake’s mum pulled him away to the car.
‘Jake, you need to get a hold of your temper. Everyone’s upset about this.’
‘He’s pushing me,’ Jake said. ‘How could anyone think I had something to do with this?’
A taxi pulled up. Abri, Sienna and Monique climbed out. When they saw everyone outside, Abri walked to Jake and his mum with an uncertain smile on her face. ‘What’s going on?’
‘There’s been a robbery,’ Jake’s mum said. ‘Someone’s stolen Granble’s diamonds.’
‘What?’ she said. ‘That’s crazy! Are you OK?’
‘They used gas to knock everyone out,’ said Jake. He nodded to the security guards. ‘Looks like they used something harder on the doormen.’
‘What about the shoot?’ said Sienna.
Jake’s mum shrugged. She looked defeated. ‘No diamonds, no shoot, I guess.’
‘And the runway show?’ asked Monique.
‘It’s tomorrow,’ Jake’s mum said. ‘So either we recover the diamonds, or get replacements. If not, the whole launch will have to be cancelled.’
‘Have you phoned the police?’ asked Abri.
‘No police!’ Granble barked. ‘This is our problem, and we’ll deal with it our way.’
‘But, Mr Granble, sir,’ Jake’s mum said. ‘This is a massive diamond heist. Someone could have been badly hurt. Surely you …’
‘Did you not hear me, Miss Maguire? I said that I do not want the police involved. My diamonds and my staff are my business. Capito?‘
‘I understand,’ said Jake’s mum, cowed. Jake hated seeing her act like that.
‘Arse,’ he said, under his breath, as Granble stormed off.
Abri laughed, but his mum didn’t.
‘Maybe you should go back to your dad’s for a while, Jake,’ she said sternly.
It wasn’t a suggestion. Jake was about to say he didn’t need a babysitter, but he could see the worry in his mum’s eyes.
She’s been through a lot today.
‘Sure, Mum,’ he said. ‘Will you be OK on your own?’
Granble was shouting into his phone again. ‘I told you, there’s no need for that! I can fix this, but you need to give me time …’
‘I have to speak with Mr Granble for a while. It sounds like his investors are on his back already. We need to figure out how we can salvage the shoot and the runway show tomorrow.’
‘He’s got a short fuse,’ said Jake.
‘Takes one to know one,’ said his mother with a grin. ‘If only it was as simple as taking a few pictures.’
That reminded him. ‘I got your pictures downloaded, by the way. They’re fine. Camera’s knackered, though.’
‘That’s great, Jake,’ said his mum, looking at Granble. He could see his mum’s mind was elsewhere already.
‘I’ll just grab my stuff from the vestry,’ he said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Abri said. Jake thought he saw Sienna roll her eyes.
Abri and Jake went back into the church. It was weirdly silent now. Hard to think that less than half an hour ago it had been the scene of such chaos.
In the vestry, he unplugged the camera and gathered his stuff.
‘You must be pretty good with computers,’ said Abri. ‘I thought the pictures were lost.’
‘It wasn’t a big problem,’ Jake said, trying not to sound too boastful. ‘Just a hardware fault. There are some really good ones of you three in the street.’
‘Really?’ Abri smiled. ‘I’d like to see them some time.’
She was biting her lip again. Was she really talking about photos, or was there some kind of hidden code going on? Jake found it hard to tear his eyes away. ‘Sure, whenever’s good for you.’
On their way out of the church, Jaap and the security guard with the cut to his head blocked the way.
‘We need to frisk you,’ he said. ‘Make sure nothing contraband’s coming out of that church.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ said Jake. ‘I already told you –’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Abri. ‘They’re just taking precautions – aren’t you, gentlemen?’
Jaap nodded and narrowed his eyes as though he wasn’t sure whether she was making fun or not.
Jake lifted his arms while the guard patted him down. Jaap did Abri.
Probably enjoying it too, Jake thought. He fought down the urge to shove the pervert off her.
‘Now, hand over the computer,’ said Jaap.
Jake looked at him in astonishment. ‘It’s my property.’
Jaap nodded at his colleague, who moved quickly and pinned Jake’s arms. ‘Get off me!’ Jake shouted. The computer was prised from his grip and he was pushed back out into the churchyard.
‘And your handbag, miss,’ said Jaap. ‘You’ll get it all back when we’ve done a thorough search.’
Abri handed it over. ‘It’s this season,’ she said, a hint of warning in her voice.
Jake was still seething when he met his mum again. She scanned him up and down. ‘Where’s your computer?’
Jake gestured over his shoulder. ‘Ask your control-freak boss.’
His mum cast another anxious glance towards Granble. ‘I ordered you a taxi,’ she said. ‘It’ll drop the girls off first, then take you back to your dad’s hotel.’
Five minutes later, the cab arrived and they climbed in. Monique sat up front with the driver and Jake was wedged between Abri and Sienna in the back seat. The taxi drove off, leaving his mum standing alone in front of the old church. Jake twisted in his seat, keeping his eyes on her, but his last view was Jaap watching them from the side door.
‘You’re worried about her, aren’t you?’ Abri asked.
Jake nodded, straightening in his seat. It could very easily have been his mother’s blood in the church aisle, not his own.
‘I don’t want her to get hurt,’ said Jake. ‘This job means so much to her that I think she’s losing perspective.’
‘It sounds like these thieves were professionals,’ said Abri. She placed her hand on his leg. ‘They wouldn’t hurt innocent people.’
‘Not unless it was necessary,’ Sienna added, unhelpfully.
Jake smiled to show he appreciated their words. He wasn’t angry about the robbery. If anything, he had a grudging respect for the thieves. They’d lifted a hundred million dollars from under Granble’s nose in a matter of minutes. That was impressive.
No, his mind was taking him somewhere else.
A job like that took meticulous planning. It needed brains as well as brawn. The thieves must have gathered quite a bit of intelligence before attempting such an act. Not to mention the fact that they’d used military grenades as part of their operation. Were they part of the same group who’d protested at the stadium? They seemed more organised than that. Another question pushed itself to the front of Jake’s mind – something he’d wondered before, but was now beginning to fixate on:
Is this the real reason Dad and I came to Milan?
12
‘Via San Martino,’ said the driver.
They pulled up to the kerb next to a tall block of flats.
‘Hardly the Hilton, is it?’ Abri said.
‘Why are you staying here?’ Jake asked.
‘Sometimes it’s better to be away from the paparazzi,’ Abri said. Monique was already out of the car.
‘Come on, Abri, we need to go.’ Sienna exited the car. The driver gave an annoyed glance over his shoulder.
‘Sorry, Jake,’ Abri said, resting her hand on Jake’s. ‘Jaap took our handbags. We don’t have any money.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll pay when I get back to mine.’
Jake thought he heard Sienna mutter something about Abri’s boy before she slammed the car d
oor. He was really starting to dislike her.
‘Well, thank you,’ said Abri, giving him a peck on the cheek. ‘And thanks for seeing us back safely.’
Monique and Sienna were crossing the street towards the door of the apartment block.
‘You’re not back safe yet,’ Jake said. ‘Wave when you get upstairs.’
‘We can take care of ourselves, you know,’ Abri said.
‘I know,’ Jake replied. ‘But give me a wave anyway.’
‘OK,’ said Abri, climbing out. ‘We’re on the fifth floor. Watch out.’
Jake watched her follow the other two. Sienna was shaking her head, and had a serious look. What was her problem?
‘Dov’e?‘ asked the driver. Where to?
‘Uno momento,’ Jake replied. He scanned the building. In less than two minutes, a window opened on to a Juliet balcony and Abri leant out. She blew a kiss. It made Jake realise he was blushing.
The driver nodded, and gave Jake a little grin that didn’t need a translator: Lucky you.
Jake grinned back and lifted his eyebrows: I know.
Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled up outside his dad’s place. Jake paid the driver and took the lift up to the ninth floor. As it rose towards the penthouse, Jake started to forget about Abri and started thinking about the theft again. Twice in one day his mum could have been harmed, and he was sure his dad knew something he wasn’t letting on.
Him and his secrets! I thought we’d left all that behind in Russia.
They were supposed to be a team now.
Instead of opening, the keypad on the inside of the lift flashed, asking for a four-digit access code. He was about to ring his dad to ask when he thought he might guess instead. He keyed 0909. His dad scored his first goal for Tottenham Hotspur on 9 September 1985. The doors swished open.
Sometimes even Steve Bastin was predictable.
The doors opened right into the suite. The living area floor was laminate wood with thick rugs, and a massive L-shaped sofa faced a flat-screen telly and a free-standing fireplace with a chimney that funnelled up into the roof space. A kitchen on the other side was fairly small and functional, while there was a corridor leading off towards three doors. Jake guessed a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. The opposite side of the lounge was green-tinted glass, tilted at an angle. Jake saw his dad on the roof terrace beyond, sitting on a chair. He had his top off and was tapping away on a laptop, with a bottle of Evian on the table next to him.
