Flight Path: A Wright & Tran Novel

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Flight Path: A Wright & Tran Novel Page 5

by Ian Andrew


  Kara was on her own, a hi-ball glass of lemonade on the table to her front and an open paperback in her hand. Not knowing anyone in the pub meant she wasn’t greeted like she would have been in the Royal Oak, but people still made eye contact with her when she looked up and would nod and smile in acknowledgement of her presence. Woodbridge was obviously welcoming to strangers.

  That left Francis Amberley. The plus one to the bar’s society. Kara was shocked at how stark the exclusion was. Granted, he sat at a small circular table in the corner, his back to the majority of the bar, looking out of a window. Or actually looking at his reflection in the window, for the only feature visible through the glass was the fuzzy halo of a dim streetlight across the carpark. Yet other people also had their backs to the bar and they were talked to, interacted with. No one sat within two tables of Amberley. No one looked towards him, no one smiled at him, no one nodded, no one said hello. Kara had the definite feeling he wasn’t being snubbed by the rest of the pub’s clientele, but that they were acting in response to his attitude to them. She couldn’t be certain, but she was fairly sure it was Francis doing the excluding.

  Holding her book so it looked like she was reading it, but in fact was reading Amberley, she watched him as he took slow drinks from the tankard. That too confused her. It was obvious this was his own tankard. Kara knew that many rural pubs would stock their regulars’ favourite drinking vessels. A fraternity thing, almost homely, so at some stage, somehow, at some time, Francis must have been on speaking terms with the bar staff at least. She considered aborting the task for the evening and spending more time on research, but in the end she dismissed it as an option. They knew as much as they were likely to find out about him and, from the looks of the bar, not many in Woodbridge would be able to add anything more. Closing her book, she lifted her glass and walked over to his table. She sat down in the chair adjacent to him before he had a chance to react.

  “Good evening Mr Amberley,” she said and smiled.

  He was halfway to reaching for his drink and his hand wavered in mid-air. He retracted it and set it on his lap whilst he looked out from under half-closed lids at her face. Tien’s description had been accurate, as had Daphne’s assessment. No good looks had been passed on from an attractive mother. Plain was the politically correct term, decidedly unattractive was Kara’s thought. He smelled of diesel and sea-salt. The hand that had wavered was that of a manual worker. Long hours of being outside and longer hours of fixing engines had ingrained a blackness into every fingerprint crease.

  He leant back slightly in his chair and looked down at her feet. Kara was dressed in boots, black trousers, a white blouse and a wool wrap. Her padded and insulated jacket was back at her original seat. She watched as he slowly gazed the length of her. His eyes stopped at her breasts. He didn’t attempt to make it discrete. He stared at them, then raised his eyes to meet hers, then dropped his gaze back to her breasts.

  Kara felt her skin crawl. She had to concentrate to restrain herself from shivering or from reaching across and smacking him with the glass she held in her hand. She couldn’t restrain her tongue, “My face is up here Mr Amberley. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to look at it?”

  He slowly brought his chin up, “Who are you and what do you want with me Missy?” he asked in his prominent Suffolk accent. Kara had been hearing those tones all afternoon and had thought they conveyed a quaint rustic charm, an old-England country idyllic, but in Amberley’s care they were dull, lifeless, heralding a slowness of thought and action.

  Tien and Kara had discussed their strategy for getting information from Amberley and had come up with little. Other than his boat, his lone quiz exploits and his modest house they had nothing concrete to work with. So they had decided a direct approach was their only opening. Direct didn’t mean truthful.

  “My name’s Eve Allen and I’d like to talk to you if I may,” Kara said, using a favoured alias.

  “You a journalist are you?” he asked with an obvious disdain to his voice.

  “No, not a journalist,” Kara said, wondering why everyone in this part of Suffolk seemed to have a dislike for the fourth estate. Not that she completely disagreed. She had little time for the sleazier sides of that profession herself. “I’m working on behalf of the families of the children involved in the Derek Swift scandal.” Kara noticed Amberley’s whole body stiffen at the mention of the name. He looked away from her.

  She continued in as neutral a tone as she could manage, “They want me to look into the circumstances of Mr Swift’s death. They, and the company responsible for Mr Swift’s life insurance, are keen to resolve the final status of Mr Swift as quickly as possible.” Kara paused. There had been a small flicker to his right eye when she had mentioned life insurance, but other than that Amberley remained still. She pressed on, “As I am sure you know, a suicide without a body is not a recordable death for seven years. With no death certificate, there can be no payout of life cover. Even if there is a certificate, were it to be confirmed as suicide then that also precludes a payout of the cover.” She stopped and watched the strange little man next to her. He was lost in his own thoughts and made no reaction to the fact she had stopped talking. She prompted him, “Do you understand, Mr Amberley?”

  “What’s all that got to do with me then?” he finally asked, looking down at his tankard.

  “I would have thought that was obvious Mr Amberley. The parents of the children wish to sue for the missing money out of the insurance settlement.”

  “What for? All their kids are dead ain’t they?”

  Kara managed to suppress the surge of anger she felt at the dismissiveness of the comment. In her ear, Tien’s calming voice sounded softly, “Deep breath my friend. Concentrate on the task.” Kara did as advised and nearly smiled in recognition of just how well Tien knew her.

  She controlled her voice to reflect a neutral, business-like demeanour, “Yes Mr Amberley, sadly all the children are indeed dead, but the parents feel that if they can make good on the money raised, then it could be redistributed to other children who may be diagnosed in the future.”

  “Lovely I’m sure. Very Christian of them. Still don’t know what it’s got to do with me though,” Amberley said, disdain still in his voice. He leant forward and picked up his tankard.

  “As I said, I would have thought that would be obvious. As the sole beneficiary named in Derek Swift’s insurance policy and with no other will and testament, it would be you that the parents will sue for recovery of the missing funds.”

  The effect of Kara’s words were exactly as she had hoped. Amberley’s eyes widened over the brim of his tankard and he coughed mid-drink. Some of the Woodforde’s Wherry spilled down his jumper and more slopped over the sides of the tankard as he dropped it back onto the table. The crash of it against the wood caused a few of the other customers to look around, but only momentarily.

  Shocked he may have been, but he managed to control his voice into a low growl, “What fucking insurance policy?”

  “Mr Derek Swift was insured for one and a half million pounds, which would be doubled in the event of an accidental death, or reduced to zero in the event of a suicide. You are named as the beneficiary on that policy. I’m sorry Mr Amberley, I assumed you knew.”

  “No I didn’t fucking know. You think if I knew I was due three million quid I’d have let hi-” Amberley stopped speaking, his face, weather-beaten and oaken-coloured, infused purple.

  “I’m sorry Mr Amberley. I didn’t catch that. If you had known you’d have what?”

  Kara watched his eyes dart from the tankard, to the window, to the ceiling then back to the table. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. She waited for another few seconds. “Mr Amberley? You were saying?”

  “Nothing. I wasn’t saying nothing. They can’t sue me, I don’t have his money.”

  “No, I know Mr Amberley but as you can see, it would be a win-win for all if we could prove that it wasn’t a suicide. Well, apart fr
om the insurance company I suppose, but that’s the game they are in. Certainly a win-win for you and the parents. I imagine if we can prove it was accidental and you get your three million, you would be happy to settle out of court for the two hundred and fifty six thousand the parents want?”

  Amberley didn’t seem to have heard her. His lower jaw was clenching and grinding while his eyes continued to dart around. Kara tried again, a little louder, “Mr Amberley?”

  “What? What are you saying?” he semi-growled.

  “I said, I imagine if we can prove it was accidental and you get your three million, you would be happy to settle out of court for the money the parents want?”

  “Yes,” he said, still distracted. Then he refocussed, as he thought about what she had actually said, “Yes, of course. If it means it would all be over quickly then yes.”

  “So you will assist me?” she asked.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Our main thrust is that the suicide note that was found by the police wasn’t left prominently. We will argue that Mr Swift wasn’t intending to fall overboard, that the note was never intended to be found and he never intended to commit suicide. You will be pivotal as you can tell us what mood he was in on the evening.”

  “But I already told the police what happened. I said he was being quiet and withdrawn, not like himself at all. I already said all of that.”

  “Yes, yes you did… But you didn’t say he was depressed or suicidal, did you?”

  There was a pause and once more Kara could almost hear gears whirring. Eventually she saw a realisation in Amberley’s eyes. He looked directly at her for the first time since she had mentioned Swift’s name.

  “No, I didn’t say anything like that, you’re right enough there Missy. I did not. Not one word.”

  “Well then,” Kara stood, “I need you to have a good think about what happened and then I will need to take some notes. Would it be convenient for me to meet you tomorrow to discuss this further?”

  Amberley remained seated, “Yes it would. I can get some time off, they owe me enough. Where do you want to meet?”

  “I thought the restaurant here. We could meet for lunch?”

  “For lunch, you say? Are you paying Missy?”

  Kara kept her voice as toneless as before, “Yes Mr Amberley, I will pay. Shall we say one o’clock?”

  Amberley nodded and reached for his tankard again.

  Kara walked back over to her original table to get her coat. As she was putting it on, she angled her face to the wall and said quietly, “Tien, we’re on our way out.” Then, she walked to the door and saw Jacob making similar moves to leave. Exiting the pub she crossed to the car that Tien had already started.

  “Bloody hell, it’s cold in here,” she said as she got into the passenger seat.

  “That’s enough out of you,” Tien said. “You think we’ll get him to talk?”

  “Oh yes. He’ll tell us every detail of that night without doubt. The horrid little slime of a man.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. He looked at me like I was a piece of meat, had no concern for the children and is a cheapskate to boot. I struggle to find any redeeming qualities so far.”

  “How did he react to the bait?”

  “Exactly what we expected. It was a real shock to him. He had no idea there was a policy.”

  “I guess the shock of finding out we made it all up and that there isn’t a policy will be equal in measure,” Tien said and smiled at her partner in the dim light of the car’s dashboard.

  “Yep, but hopefully we’ll have all we need by then.”

  The heater of the car made wheezing noises as it tried to bring the internal temperature up.

  “Come on Jacob, where are you? Leave that nice young lady that was sitting beside you alone and get your butt out here. I’m freezing.” Kara called out, wrapping her arms around herself and hunkering down in her seat.

  “Kara, Tien, standby, standby,” Jacob’s voice was clear and controlled.

  “Jacob, what’s going on?” Kara asked, immediately sitting upright and swapping a concerned glance with Tien.

  “I was delayed in leaving. It seemed polite to break off my conversation with manners and not just run for it. Good job too, because as I was finishing up, Amberley went to the toilet.”

  “And?” Kara asked.

  “And he pulled an old model Nokia mobile from his pocket as he was making his way to the door. I followed him into the toilet but he’s gone into a stall. He wasn’t speaking, so I reckon he’s texting. I’ve backed out and am standing by the restaurant door, looking as if I’m making a phone call. What do you want me to do?”

  Kara had a decade of field intelligence experience, Tien just one year less. The benefit of it was mostly visible in the pre-planning that went into jobs, but it was truly visible when things went off-piste. So it was now as Kara began to control the situation, “Hold your position, keep your comms open. Where’s his tankard?”

  “What?” Jacob asked.

  “The tankard that he was drinking from, is it still on the table he was at?”

  ‘Um, no. No the table’s clear, he took the tankard back to the bar before he went to the loo.”

  “Is there a back exit out from the toilets?” Kara asked.

  “Only the fire exit and it’s fitted with an emergency bar-push handle. It’s wired and alarmed. He’s not heading out that way without us knowing about it.”

  Once more Kara thanked the good sense Tien and she had in using professionals that they could rely on. “Good work Jacob. Now, what pocket did he pull his phone from?”

  “Umm, his left I think.”

  “I need you to be sure Jacob. Very sure. If you don’t know just say, it’s better than guessing.”

  There was a small pause, “Definitely left pocket Kara. That’s how I saw it so clearly.”

  “Okay, that’s good. He has to come back out the front. You stay put, let us know when he’s on his way and then follow semi-close behind, okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tien?” Kara swivelled in her chair.

  “Already there,” Tien said, switching off the car and reaching for the door handle. Kara stepped out and leant against the side of the car. After a few minutes the small ‘Tic’ sounded again in her ear.

  “He’s moving,” Jacob said.

  As Amberley came out through the door and into the near darkness of the dimly lit carpark, Kara bumped into him almost head on.

  “What the fu-” he said and put his hands out to fend off whoever it was to his front.

  “Oh! Mr Amberley. I’m so sorry. I was just heading back inside to ask you if we could make it one thirty tomorrow instead of one. My apologies, I didn’t even see you.” She remained in front of him and felt his hands on her torso.

  “Bloody hell Missy, you nearly had me over there. You need to be careful walking around in the dark like that.”

  Kara felt his hands moving up the front of her jacket. “Yes, you’re right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you,” she sounded contrite. “Anyway, is one thirty okay?” She stifled the urge to take the hand that had just slipped over her left breast and break it into its constituent parts.

  “Yes Missy, one thirty’s fine,” he said, completely unaware of Tien stepping away from him and re-entering the shadows of the pub’s eaves.

  “Thank you Mr Amberley, I believe you can let me go now. I don’t think I’m going to fall,” Kara said.

  The Pub door opened again, creating a pool of light that illuminated their small tableau. Jacob walked past them and into the night.

  Amberley pulled his hands away like Kara had become electric, stammered that he would see her tomorrow and walked off, stooping forward, in the direction of his home. Once he was out of sight the three met back at the car.

  “All good?” Kara asked as Tien pressed the ignition button and the car once more began the effort of heating its interior.

  “Yep,
all good,” Tien said and shifted the car into drive.

  “Want to let me into what we just did?” Jacob asked from the backseat.

  “Tien pickpocketed Amberley’s phone,” Kara answered.

  “Really? That was pretty slick. What happens if he misses it?” Jacob asked.

  “Well it’s not so much of a problem,” Tien said as she pulled out of the carpark and headed back to their accommodation. “If he does miss it, he’ll return to the pub to look for it. He won’t find it and so he’ll go home. By that time I’ll have figured out what he was up to, if anything, and if he’s legit, Kara will give him his phone back at the meeting tomorrow, saying she found it after he left.”

  “And if he’s not legit?” Jacob asked.

  “Then I suspect we’ll bring our meeting forward,” Kara said.

  Chapter 6

  It took six seconds for Tien to break the lock code on the mobile phone. “Ah, don’t you miss the Nokia 3310? What a wonderful old friend it was,” Tien said, giving the small phone a pat and disconnecting it from the cable that attached it to the PC.

  Jacob looked sideways at Kara and smirked, “Is geek or nerd the right term?” he asked.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Tien said as she flicked through the Nokia’s menus. “Oh, that’s interesting. It’s clean.”

  “How clean?” Kara asked.

  “Totally. No call logs, no texts in or out. No contacts, not so much as a hint of any use.”

  “Interesting indeed,” Kara said as she watched Tien plug the phone back into the PC’s cable.

  “What now?” Jacob asked.

  Tien looked up and gave him a benevolent smile, “Clean doesn’t mean empty Jacob. The idea that you delete call logs and texts and whatever else you think you’ve deleted from a phone is just an illusion. Just like you can recover files on a PC you can recover almost anything back from a mobile. You just need the right software.”

  “And we have it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Oh yeah, we have it, but first things first,” Tien said as she began to type rapidly. The action was quite unusual to watch. Her prosthetic left hand, with extended index finger, prodded the keys in the style of a one-finger typist. Meanwhile, her right hand was the fully functional hand of an experienced touch typist. The resultant speed was much faster than most and much slower than Tien had once been.

 

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