by Mary Birk
“At his house, guv? Do you think Von Zandt did this to get at you?”
“Perhaps.”
“And you’ve not been able to speak with Lady Anne?” Harry’s voice was cautious and blessedly diplomatic.
“Things are a bit difficult right now with that.” Reid knew Harry would have seen the newspapers or, God forbid, the television. He knew he should call Dunbaryn and reassure them that there was nothing to the stories, but he had no reassurances to give to them—or to himself.
“Right. And the security man you had on her?”
“He’s outside the gates. Virtually useless.” Reid held his mobile in one hand and rubbed his temples with the other. He couldn’t explain this mess to anyone and have it make sense.
“But the homing device on her mobile is still in place?”
“I believe so. It shows up as being in his house.”
“Does it seem strange to you that she would go there after what you’ve told her about Von Zandt, guv? I know she’s, well, from California, as you said, and I admit I don’t know her, but does it make sense to you that Lady Anne would do this?”
“Truth be told, it makes no sense to me, no matter what else is going on. I’m that worried about her. I can’t fathom what happened.” He couldn’t tell Harry, but he was truly puzzled that she would put the baby at risk by going into what he’d told her could be a dangerous situation. Had she not been pregnant, he would not have been so surprised. His wife had an innocent confidence, a confidence bordering on recklessness, a confidence that allowed her to sail blithely into dangerous waters. He’d seen it before when they were in Bodega Bay and she’d boarded a yacht manned by an armed madman holding hostages. This was a woman who thought you could play nice chess.
He groaned. “Actually, Harry, the more I think about it, it might not make sense, but it is not really very far out of character for her.”
Harry was quiet, probably trying to think of something nonjudgmental to say. Finally, he came up with, “Well, guv, I’m sure you know her best.”
“That’s debatable. In any event, I’m going to have to talk to the brass. Fall on my bloody sword and explain why my wife is not only working for the target of our investigation, but living in his house. You and the rest of the team had best keep clear of the situation. You may well have a different boss by noon, and I don’t want you all to be out on the streets as well.”
“I’ll take my chances. Besides I’ve got a standing offer from your mate, John Stirling, to come work for him. So just let me know what you need me to do.”
Chapter 63
ALLISON GLANCED OVER TO where Harry sat working at his computer, basking in the smug knowledge that she was in on a part of the operation that Harry wasn’t. He always thought he knew everything the Super did, and truth be told, he usually did seem to be privy to things no one else was. This time, though, the roles were reversed. Harry was in the dark, and she was in the inner circle. No one else except Darby knew about the hush-hush operation the Superintendent had put together to get his wife into Von Zandt’s house. Allison almost wished Harry knew so she could lord it over him. Diplomatically, of course. She wouldn’t act like he did.
She was exhausted from being up most of the night before, but at the same time, she felt energized with a wonderful high, the high that came from knowing she was really valued at her job. The Superintendent’s show of confidence thrilled Allison. He’d chosen her, just her, not any of the other members of his team.
Of course, surveillance devices were one of her specialties, so perhaps she’d been included more because of her skills than anything else. Allison was proud of the wire she’d fitted for Anne. A work of art, that. Explaining the intricacies of the device to a nonprofessional had been the hardest part, but the Super’s wife caught on quickly. Darby would be monitoring the wire on her laptop herself. Allison had volunteered to help, but Darby had shaken her head, saying her brother wanted her to take care of it personally.
Allison stole another glance at Harry and was startled to see that he was looking right at her. She turned back to her computer, pretending like she hadn’t noticed. She still had about a zillion leads to follow up on about the credit card records they’d linked to the explosives used at Heidelberg, but her lack of sleep was catching up on her. Columns of names and numbers danced in front of her eyes, and she yawned.
“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night.” Harry’s voice startled her, and she jerked to alert.
“I’m fine.”
“How many times have I told you no carousing on school nights, kitten?”
She sent him what she hoped was a scathing look, while she scrabbled in her head for an explanation for her fatigue. He knew she didn’t do what he called carousing even on weekend nights. Then his words registered, and she scowled. “Don’t call me kitten.”
“Sorry, sweetums. You still haven’t told me what kept you from your snoozing time.”
She huffed out her exasperation. Harry was so nosy and, unfortunately, so good at figuring out when there were things she didn’t want to tell him, or that she was supposed to keep secret. She would have to be very careful.
“None of your business.”
“Whoo-oo.” Harry got up and came around to her desk. He examined what she had up on her screen, then leaned against her desk. “Let me guess. DC Michaud took you dancing and you twinkled and twined your toes together all night.”
“Not hardly.” She glanced over at the Super’s office, making sure the door was closed. “You saw the papers this morning?”
“Aye. Hard to miss them.”
The photos had been awful. Her mum had been muttering all morning about it, mad on behalf of Allison’s boss, whom she approved of, even if he was a Catholic. Allison hadn’t told her mother where she’d been last night or that she’d met the Super’s wife. Lady Anne really did look like a film star, except that her eyes had been red from crying when Allison saw her. Well, she bleeding well should be crying, after what she’d done. From remarks Darby made on the drive to the hotel last night, Allison could tell that Darby did not care for her brother’s wife. No surprise, when Lady Anne had been caught out by the press meeting her lover at the hotel.
“What do you think of her?” Allison couldn’t resist the opportunity to get Harry’s opinion on a subject that was rarely discussed within the team.
“Who?”
Allison blew out her breath in exasperation. “You know who. Don’t be thick.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Thick? Me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you. What do you think of the guv’s wife?”
Harry wiggled his ears and raised his eyebrows up and down quickly. “I make it a point not to think about other men’s wives.”
Allison waved a hand at him. “Stop doing that. You look daft.” Harry looked hurt, but Allison could tell he was having her on. “You know that’s not what I mean. I mean, what do you think about them? About their marriage and all.” It seemed like an extremely strange marriage. Allison was pretty sure the Reids didn’t live together. The Superintendent didn’t even have a photo of his wife on his desk, and he never talked about her. Harry, on the other hand, talked about his girls, not all the time, but often enough. Birds, he called them. The Super didn’t seem to have anyone but this on again, off again, wife. So maybe he did love her. Who could ever understand men?
Harry grinned. “I definitely try not to think about marriage, even other people’s marriages. Therein lies the path to disaster.”
But Allison wasn’t going to let him get away with not answering. If she had to talk to Harry, they would talk about something Allison wanted to talk about. Besides, it would keep him from asking her any dangerous questions that might give him a hint about the Superintendent secretly having his wife doing surveillance at Von Zandt’s. “Do you think the Superintendent loves her?”
“What’s not to love?”
Harry could be so exasperating. He understood exactly what she
was asking but he refused to give a straight answer.
“Oh, never mind.” Whether the Superintendent loved his wife or not, Allison still couldn’t understand him sending her into Von Zandt’s house wearing a wire. It was so dangerous. But then she remembered the stories about what had happened in California. The Super and his wife had caught the man that murdered her lover’s little girl together. That had to have been dangerous, so maybe Lady Anne was more used to this kind of work than people realized.
She certainly hadn’t seemed afraid. She’d nodded as Allison told her how to operate the wire and asked a few, actually good, questions.
Allison waved her hand to shoo Harry away. “Go back to your desk, kitten. I’m working.” All he did was annoy her. He wouldn’t even have an honest discussion with her about things. If this operation was successful, Allison had a feeling she’d be taking Harry’s place as the Superintendent’s right hand.
He scrutinized her, not seeming to care that she’d used the same silly name for him as he had for her. “Something’s going on with you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, kitten.” She was starting to enjoy this.
“No? I’m thinking there’s something you’re not sharing with your good mate.”
“You’re not my mate. Work colleagues is all, kitten.”
He tilted his head and smirked with his maddening freckled face grin, clasping his hand against his heart. “You hurt me, girl. Haven’t I worked hard to try to teach you the ropes?”
“What you want me to know and when you want to tell me. You aren’t the only one who knows what they’re doing, kitten.”
“I am truly wounded. I’ve always been adamant that you are almost as good as me when I was . . .” He paused, then said, drawing his words out deliberately, “Weel, I’m thinking grammar school.”
Allison cut her eyes at him. She had more brothers like him than she cared to think about. Then she remembered her plan to try to emulate Darby, and looked at him coolly. “I’m sure you’re the most wonderful thing to hit the police force since…well, perhaps back to the beginning of Scotland.” But, not that wonderful, she thought. The Super hadn’t trusted Harry to be privy to his wife’s infiltration of Von Zandt’s house, and he had trusted her. Maybe he didn’t want a ginger-haired idiot on something so delicate.
“You flatter me, girl.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t need me for that. You do such a good job of flattering yourself, kitten.”
Harry lowered his mouth until he was right in front of her face. Then he pursed his lips and purred like a cat.
She slapped her hand in the air. “Go away.”
Chapter 64
“I’LL RELINQUISH the operation and you can assign someone to take my place.” Reid looked from DCC Shreve back to McMurty, almost hoping they’d take him up on his offer. When he’d called to ask for this meeting, he’d known that they’d been waiting for his call. They’d given him the courtesy of letting him come to them on his own, instead of ordering him to a meeting and demanding an explanation. He knew he’d put them all in an uncomfortable position.
McMurty played with his ubiquitous unlit cigar. “Have you talked to Schilling?”
“Aye, this morning.”
“What was his reaction?”
Reid shrugged. “He’s leaving it to you.”
Shreve took a drink of his tea. “So your wife won’t give up the job?”
“No, and perhaps that’s my fault. I haven’t felt free to tell her enough so that she understood fully what’s going on.”
“This job is through her firm, and the person she works for is the one that took the job, not her?” McMurty got the point, thank God.
“Yes.”
“But you certainly can’t need her to work.” Shreve put in.
Reid shook his head. “Perhaps not, but her career is important to her. And she was anxious to have work in Scotland.”
McMurty said, “That’s understandable. A long distance marriage couldn’t have been easy for either of you.”
“No.”
McMurty nodded thoughtfully. “Probably part of what led to the events in California, I assume?”
Reid knew this subject couldn’t be avoided any longer. “Aye. We were separated. I’d not been very understanding about the long distance thing. But we were trying again.” He wasn’t going to mention the pregnancy. “If you saw the tabloids this morning, you know it didn’t work out.” Reid didn’t let his humiliation bleed through into his words. None of their business. Besides, he didn’t need them, and he didn’t need this job.
“You’re not in contact with her now?” McMurty’s tone was calm, dispassionate.
“No.”
“Is she going back to the States?”
Reid shrugged. “I’d assume she will after this job is finished.”
Shreve darted a censorious look in Reid’s direction. “You should have told us about her working for Walter Von Zandt.”
“Perhaps. But it took me by surprise, and I was trying to work it out with her.”
Shreve glared at him. “Frankly, Reid, there’s a lot of talk that the way you’ve run the investigation got DC Parsons and DI Lawrence killed.”
Reid’s head snapped up and he looked first at McMurty, then at Shreve. Shreve had a tendency to be a prick. Reid didn’t take it personally, but neither did he appreciate it. “You well know that DI Lawrence was supervising Parsons. What’s more, it certainly wasn’t my idea to have Lawrence or his people included in the operation. If you remember, I came out strongly against it. And now, as you know, we have strong evidence that DI Lawrence himself was involved in DC Parsons’s murder.”
Shreve pouted in that infantile way that always made Reid want to put him in toddler time out. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard.”
“There’s nothing I can do about idiotic gossip.” Reid decided to go on the offensive. “Why don’t you let people know that CID was responsible? And that you pushed me to accept their involvement? Or that a CID DI has been implicated in DC Parsons’s murder?”
Shreve scowled. “No need to shoot the messenger, Reid. And we can’t yet say for certain that DI Lawrence had anything to do with the constable’s death. While we’re on that subject though, you should know that Interpol has approached us, suggesting the operation be turned over to them. They say it looks bad for your wife to be consorting with Von Zandt, knowing he’s under suspicion of providing money laundering services to terrorists.”
“Consorting?” Reid felt like he’d gotten a hard boot kick to his gut, remembering what Harry had told him about Darby’s suggestion that the investigation be turned over to Interpol. Had she really been worried about him, or had she been angling for that for some reason of her own? Had she been promised a larger role in the investigation if Interpol took over? Had she actually been conspiring against him? His own sister? No, he refused to believe that.
McMurty snorted and tapped the unlit cigar on the rim of his cup. “Interpol has a fat lot of nerve. Their own president resigned last year facing corruption charges.”
“They emailed these photos to illustrate their point.” Shreve turned his laptop toward Reid, displaying pictures of a smiling Anne sitting a restaurant table with Walter Von Zandt, Jonas, and the two other men Reid remembered from the night he’d first gone to her at her hotel. She was wearing the ill-fated black dress. Who’d taken those photographs? And who’d sent the photographs to Interpol?
Reid took a deep breath, let it out. “That was a business dinner. She was there with her boss.” But who would believe Anne’s relationship with Von Zandt was just business now that she was living in his home?
Shreve hit a key on his computer and another photo came on screen. “And how do you explain this one?” The photo showed Reid standing with Anne, Von Zandt, Jonas, and Von Zandt’s estate manager, as well as the other man who’d been at dinner with Anne. The photograph captured the moment of false social niceties. He’d onl
y been in the group for a few minutes before dragging Anne away and practically ravishing her in the elevator. Please God, don’t let there be photographs of that. If there were, there was only one thing he could do. Resign.
“I renew my offer to step away from this investigation.”
McMurty shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“For the record, I went to see Anne at her hotel and waited for her to return from a business dinner. I didn’t find out until then that Von Zandt owned Lynstrade Manor. And my wife didn’t know that Von Zandt was the subject of our investigation until after that night.”
McMurty met Reid’s eyes. “The only way to play this now is to make it clear that you and your wife have split up. The general public doesn’t know Von Zandt is under investigation, but if the operation is successful, it will eventually become public knowledge. When that happens, Von Zandt’s lawyers are going to try to scrape up whatever filth they can and dish it up to the press and the courts to get him off.”
Shreve nodded. “And for God’s sake, you’ve got to stay completely away from the woman. The break has to be clean. No calls, no visits, nothing.”
Reid didn’t bother to respond.
McMurty said, “If she’s really only there to design his gardens, Terrence, there’s no reason to think she’s in danger. If she’s there because there’s something between her and Von Zandt, there’s no reason to think she’s in danger, either.”
Reid swallowed. “There’s nothing like that between them.”
McMurty nodded. “So, to finish my thought on this, the only way she’s in danger is if Von Zandt thinks you’re using her to get to him.”
“Which I’m not.”
“Good, because if you put her in there as a plant, the rings Von Zandt’s lawyers will be able to run around us will choke us till our eyes pop out.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’d never risk her safety like that.”
McMurty raised his eyebrows, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
