Close Range
Page 8
When he saw Jake, he stood up and came inside. Despite being in his mid-forties, his dad was in good shape, and went to the gym four or five times a week. Jake had always thought it was a hang-up from his playing days, but now he knew different. His dad needed to stay fit for his job.
‘Hayley called ahead,’ said his dad. ‘I’m glad you’re both OK. If you hadn’t been there –’
Jake wasn’t in the mood to waste any more time. ‘What’s going on, Dad?’
The question took his dad by surprise. He put his finger to his lips, and pointed outside, scooping up his iPhone as he walked. Jake followed him on to the terrace. There hadn’t been any wind at street level, but up here gusts whipped the small conifers in the plant boxes. His dad leant over the railings.
Beside him, Jake couldn’t help but admire the view. The gothic spires of the cathedral, half-built office skyscrapers in the distance – old and new all mixed in together.
‘Can’t be too careful inside,’ his dad said.
‘You think it’s bugged?’ said Jake.
‘Always assume the worst.’
‘So you’re going to answer my question? You knew she’d be in danger, didn’t you?’
His dad shook his head. ‘You have to believe me, Jake. I didn’t know about the robbery until Hayley phoned me.’
‘Why should I believe you?’
‘I wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way,’ said his dad. ‘Either of you.’
‘But you knew something might happen!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ said his dad, ‘and I’ll tell you.’
Jake calmed himself. ‘Go on, then.’
His dad took a sip of water. ‘The commentary job’s a cover. Granble’s the real reason I’m here. The Granble Diamond Company may look legit on paper, but my superiors have their doubts. Our operatives in South Africa think that a lot of his mining practices are illegal, and that he’s trading in blood diamonds.’
‘What’s that got to do with the security services?’ Jake asked. ‘Not being funny, but where’s the threat to Britain?’
‘It’s not quite that simple,’ said his dad. ‘It’s where the money ends up that’s the problem. Arms, terrorism, extremists – issues that will threaten innocent people, all over the world. MI6 is just one cog in a machine trying to stop it.’
Jake gave a low whistle. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before? I could have helped.’
His dad pursed his lips. ‘I have my orders too.’
‘But I thought after Russia –’
‘Look, Jake,’ his dad interrupted. ‘This business is all about information and trust. You pass the information to people you trust, and you buy trust with information. My superiors have never even met you.’
It frustrated Jake, but he understood. ‘So why are you telling me now?’
His dad gave him a playful shove. ‘Because I trust you and someone’s raised the stakes.’
‘Does Mum know anything about this?’
His dad shook his head. ‘No, and she mustn’t. We have to keep our cover. If Granble suspects we’re on to him, he’ll pull up the drawbridge.’
‘But if Mum’s in danger –’
‘She’ll be in more danger if she starts acting strangely. I need you to stay close to her. You saw how she was at the stadium – she doesn’t want me interfering.’
‘So what will you be doing?’ Jake asked.
‘Acting like a commentator,’ said his dad. ‘My brief is to gather what intel I can, and get close to Granble. I’ve already met Granble once at the stadium, and there’s another event planned after the game tomorrow night.’
‘But the launch can’t go ahead now,’ Jake said. ‘The diamonds are gone.’
‘That suits me,’ replied his father. ‘Hayley won’t have to have anything else to do with him. Until then, I need you to stay sharp.’
‘You got it,’ said Jake. ‘I’ll be able to look for anything suspicious too. Granble thinks I’m just an annoying kid.’
Jake’s dad stood back from the balcony, and pointed his finger at Jake’s chest. ‘Don’t start acting on your own initiative,’ he said. ‘Observe and report, nothing more.’
‘Chill out, Dad, I won’t do anything to raise suspicions.’
‘Just like with the minister, you mean?’
‘I learned my lesson.’
‘Good,’ said his dad. He started walking back inside. ‘I need to clean up for a gala dinner later. It’s a tux job.’
Jake watched his dad go in, and turned back to look over the balcony. The city shimmered in the late afternoon heat. Thousands of people milled about, seeing the sites, leaving their jobs for the day. And amongst them two people had a hundred million dollars worth of stolen diamonds.
Jake planned to find out who.
13
Jake fixed himself a sandwich and watched the Germany–Spain game highlights on the TV in the penthouse suite. The Germans were stifling the creative play of the Spanish, and it was actually one of the more boring games Jake had seen in his life.
The doorbell chimed just after six, and Jake’s dad shouted through from the bedroom for Jake to get it.
A squat Italian was looking into the videocom.
‘Taxi per il Signor Bastin,’ he said.
‘He’ll be down in a minute,’ said Jake.
His dad emerged along the corridor wearing an immaculate dinner jacket, crisp white dress shirt and black tie.
‘Can I mix you a vodka Martini, Mr Bond?’ Jake joked.
‘Ha ha,’ said his dad, tugging at his collar. ‘James Bond? I look more like a penguin.’
Jake reached for the remote control to turn off the TV. ‘Oooh, what’s the score?’ his dad asked.
‘Nil–nil,’ Jake replied. ‘Don’t watch, unless you want to fall asleep and miss the party.’
‘Doesn’t sound like a bad alternative.’
‘Can you give me a ride back over to Mum’s on the way?’
‘Sure.’
They climbed into the lift together. As it descended, his dad fiddled with his cufflinks. ‘By the way, I got a call from an American gentleman this afternoon. Randy something …’
‘Olympic Advantage?’ Jake asked.
‘That’s right,’ his dad said. ‘It sounds like a great opportunity.’
Jake felt like punching the air, but kept his cool. Obviously his mum hadn’t mentioned her feelings on the matter yet.
‘It’s amazing, Dad,’ he said. ‘I checked it out online. The equipment and facilities are state of the art. And it’s in the summer, so I wouldn’t miss any school –’
‘Hold up!’ said his dad. ‘You don’t have to give me the spiel. I got that already from this guy.’
‘And you think it’s a good idea?’ said Jake.
The lift doors swished open on the ground floor.
‘It sounds promising, but I want to do some more research first.’
Jake grinned, and pushed his worries to the back of his mind. So what if his mum wasn’t so keen? His dad sounded persuadable.
There were some advantages to having divorced parents.
Next morning, Jake sat on the sofa reading the news online. Granble’s security people had turned his computer over to his mum the day before. He’d done a quick scan of it and was relieved to see that Granble’s people hadn’t messed with anything. All his mum’s photos were still safely copied on to the hard drive.
There was nothing at all about the jewel heist in the news. Complete media blackout. Granble must have good PR people to keep a story like that out of the press.
Well, he had Marissa. She could probably keep a fox out of a hen house.
‘I appreciate that,’ said Hayley into her mobile, ‘but I just want to know where things stand for tonight.’
It seemed to Jake that his mum had been on the phone since seven that morning dealing with the fallout from the theft the day before.
‘But there will still be a show, right?’ said his mum.
She closed the phone.
‘Any news?’ said Jake.
‘What do you think?’ his mum snapped. She sat down heavily beside his feet at the end of the sofa. ‘Sorry, Jake, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.’
‘That’s OK, Mum,’ said Jake, shifting closer to her. ‘I know how important this was to you. Is the show going ahead?’
His mum nodded. ‘So far, yes. But without the diamonds it’ll be a disaster. Mr Granble seems convinced we’ll get them back.’
Something about those last words made Jake nervous. Granble didn’t seem like the sort of man who let those who crossed him get away with it. Jake hated sitting around when he could be helping solve the crime. He was the only one who had seen the assailants after all.
His mum’s phone started ringing again, and she answered: ‘Hayley Maguire … Oh, hi, Stefan … No, nothing yet …’
Jake assured himself that his mum was safe for the moment, stuck at home waiting by the phone. He got up off the sofa and pointed towards the door. He mouthed, ‘Going to see Dad.’
His mum waved goodbye.
It was good to get out, but Jake had no intention of going to see his dad. He had a plan, which was only a little beyond his dad’s instructions to observe and report. He needed more information and he knew just the person he wanted to see.
He took a cab back to Abri’s place on Via San Martino, stopping on the way at a florist’s. After a couple of minutes looking aimlessly at the various flowers, the owner – a stout, middle-aged lady with chaotic black hair – came up to him. ‘English, sì?’
Was it that obvious? ‘Sì. I need to buy some flowers.’ Jake cringed at his attempt to mime along with his words.
‘For girl, I think?’ said the owner, a sly smile splitting her face.
Jake nodded. He could feel the taxi driver watching him – probably with a matching smile.
Shortly after, he left the shop with a large bunch of orange and violet flowers.
Time for a charm offensive!
Abri was the only one who’d dared to speak out against Granble at the church, and if she knew something that might help the case against the tycoon, then Jake wanted to be the one to hand over that information.
He rang the buzzer, a smile creeping over his face.
And if he had to interview three beautiful models to get that information …
It was a hard job, but someone had to do it.
No one picked up. That was weird. He checked his watch. 11 a.m. Surely the girls wouldn’t have left for the stadium yet? Nor would they be out for lunch. They could still be asleep. Maybe it was true about supermodels not getting out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars.
Jake shielded his eyes and peered in the slim window that ran down one side of the door. He could see a large entry way with a staircase at one side. Jake was about to ring again, when a burly-looking Italian in sunglasses with a bad buzzcut appeared at the top of the staircase and bolted down the stairs. Jake had to step aside quickly as the man shoved the front door open and pushed past. Jake stuck his toe against the jamb to prevent it closing.
I guess I’ll surprise them, he thought.
Jake waited until the man had ducked into a dark sedan across the street before he slipped into the building and headed for the stairs. Five floors was good exercise – and it would give him time to fine tune his opening line.
Hi, Abri, I was just passing by …
Hey, I got these for you …
How’s it going, Abri?
Jake stepped out through a door marked Ap. 500–540. He tried to remember which window Abri had waved from. It was five windows along in his mind’s eye, so apartment 510. He knocked on the door. He heard noises inside, then a few seconds later a middle-aged woman in a dressing gown with rollers in her hair opened the door.
‘Sì?’ she said.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jake, confused. ‘Mi dispiace. Abri?’
The woman looked at him like he was from Mars, then slammed the door.
Jake looked each way along the corridor. I’m sure this is right.
He wandered back to the stairs, then realised his mistake. He was on the fourth floor! The ground floor must be labelled 100–140, the first floor 200–240 …
What had his dad said about staying sharp?
So busy practising your chat-up lines you forgot to count. Moron.
Jake took another flight of stairs up, and went along to Abri’s flat. The door to 610 was open an inch. Not too security conscious, these girls. He knocked anyway.
No answer. Jake pushed the door. ‘Hello? It’s me, Jake.’
The door opened a foot then hit an obstruction.
Jake pushed his head through the crack to see what was blocking it. On the floor lay a body, face down. From the blonde hair, Jake knew it was Sienna.
He dropped the flowers, squeezed into the flat and crouched beside her. His first thought was overdose. There were always stories in the papers about models taking drugs.
‘Sienna?’ he said, reaching for her shoulder. She didn’t react.
Jake carefully turned her over and nearly choked with shock. Sienna’s face was deadly pale, her eyes open and bloodshot. Her tongue, almost as purple as the flowers, was hanging out of the corner of her mouth. But it was the red line across her neck that made his heart thump. Something had been pulled tight across her throat, breaking the skin.
This was no overdose.
It was murder.
14
Jake checked for a pulse, knowing already that it was pointless.
Sienna’s wrist was limp, but still warm. He felt his stomach turn with fear.
Whoever did this is close.
Then his mind cleared and a thought pierced him like a needle: The others!
‘Abri!’ Jake called out. ‘Abri! Monique!’
He ran along the hall. Two bedrooms, empty but ransacked. Drawers upturned, sheets and mattresses ripped up, a mirror smashed on the floor. In the bathroom, a medicine cabinet had been wrenched off the wall, and a perfume bottle shattered, leaving the air heavy with sweetness. The bath panel had been removed. It was the same story in the lounge and small open-plan kitchen. Deserted, but demolished. Someone had been looking for something – something that they were willing to kill for.
Jake felt a blast of relief. Abri wasn’t here and he hoped that meant she was safe.
He heard a door creak and picked up a leg from a broken chair. The wood felt heavy in his palm, but he was ready to use it. Then a scream came from the hallway. Jake rushed back into the corridor.
Abri was standing over Sienna’s body, her hands covering her mouth, trembling. She looked up at Jake, her eyes settling on the makeshift club in his hand.
‘What have you done?’ she screamed.
‘It’s not how it looks,’ he said. ‘I found her –’
He didn’t get a chance to finish. With a howl of anger, Abri lunged over Sienna’s corpse. Jake thought she was going to kick him, but her foot went behind his and she slammed an open palm into Jake’s solar plexus. He fell back, dropping the weapon, and rolled over on the varnished floor. Abri lifted her heel and axe-kicked down towards his head. Jake rolled sideways into the wall as her stiletto snapped off with the force of the blow.
She hobbled back and he sprang up.
‘No!’ he said, moving forwards to stifle any further blows. ‘You’ve got it wrong.’
Abri lurched in, grabbed his hand and twisted him over her hip in a judo throw. Jake could do nothing as the world turned over and he thumped on to his back. Abri kept a grip of his arm and tried to twist it upwards. Jake rolled with the hold and shoved her away. A second later she would have snapped his arm at the elbow.
This girl knows how to fight.
Abri grabbed the chair leg. ‘How could you?’ she hissed.<
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‘She was dead when I got here,’ Jake replied, gasping for breath from the hard landing.
‘You expect me to believe that?’ she said, lunging at him, stabbing with the club. Jake fell back. As she flicked a lightning roundhouse kick towards his head, he caught her foot. Abri simply turned and rolled away, pulling her foot free. Jake was left holding her other shoe.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said. ‘Just listen to me.’
Abri gave a barked laugh, and threw the chair leg. Jake blocked with a hand and it clattered behind him. There were no more weapons to hand, but Jake didn’t fancy his chances anyway. If he didn’t get out, this was going to end really badly for one of them. And it looked like it was going to be him.
He stepped backwards until he was through the flat’s front door. He tripped over the bouquet he’d brought Abri as he stumbled into the main corridor. Abri came after him, with hate in her eyes. ‘No way,’ she said. ‘You’re not going anywhere!’
Jake ran towards the stairwell. Abri was right behind him. He took the stairs three at a time, using the banister for balance. Down half a flight, he saw Abri vault the handrail, and flip through the air, landing nimbly one flight down on the landing.
Wait a minute …
He stopped.
He’d seen that move before.
Jake struggled to understand. He jumped the remaining steps. Abri caught his cheek with a hook, but his momentum drove him through the punch. He pinned her against the wall with his forearm. Using all his weight to hold her still, he pushed his face up to hers.
‘At the airport,’ he said. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’
Abri struggled and writhed, but Jake pressed his arm up into her throat. The blood rushed to her face. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, her voice a slick, struggling gasp.
She tried to knee him in the groin, but he turned sideways and pressed closer.
‘You attacked my mother,’ said Jake. ‘Tried to steal her camera.’