by Jack Higgins
“Except the kids.”
“What? The kids were there? Tell me the kids weren’t there, Ivan.”
“They got away, but—”
“But nothing. We’d better meet. But not here. I don’t want Carl bleeding on the hotel carpet. By the west entrance to the underground car park where we met before. In ten minutes.” He ended the call and tapped the small mobile phone against his palm as he considered.
Exactly ten minutes later, Ivan was explaining in more detail what had happened. Stabb listened without comment.
They were standing inside the underground car park – a forest of concrete pillars supporting the building above. Carl was leaning against the side of a people carrier, breathing heavily. There was a sheen of sweat across his face and he was clutching at his side. Stabb could see where the blood was leaking through his clothes.
“All right,” Stabb said when they were done. “There’s nothing more we can do for the moment. It’s out of our hands for now. But be ready, Ivan – I may need you again soon.”
Ivan said: “What about Carl?”
“Ivan said you can get me out of the country,” Carl said. His voice was throaty and hoarse. “Make me disappear.”
Stabb nodded. “We can’t afford any loose ends – that’s for sure.” He held out a gloved hand towards Carl. “Give me your gun.”
Carl struggled to pull the handgun from his jacket and handed it to Stabb.
“Yes,” Stabb said, turning the gun over and examining it. He chambered a round. “I can make you disappear.” Then he levelled the gun and shot Carl through the forehead.
“Get rid of him,” Stabb told Ivan, handing him the gun. “It’s easier to get rid of a body than a wounded man.”
Ivan looked down at the corpse slumped against a wheel of the people carrier. “I shall bear that in mind,” he said.
The internet café didn’t open till nine and it was barely six. Rich and Jade found a place that was open for early breakfast. It was smoky and greasy and the ketchup on the tables was in red, tomato-shaped plastic bottles that had crusted nozzles.
But the man serving the first customers of the day was friendly enough. Jade guessed from the size of him that he ate what he served – all of which seemed to be fried.
“Don’t suppose you have a vegetarian option?” she asked.
The man just stared at her.
“Like juice and some fruit or cereal?” Jade tried.
The man stared some more. Then he slowly shook his head.
“OK,” she said. “Toast. Surely you can do toast?”
“I’ll have a bacon sandwich,” Rich said. “And coffee.”
“Tea,” Jade said.
“One bacon sarney, a tea and a coffee,” the man said. “And some toast.”
They sat where they had a good view of the street. Not that Jade expected the men from the flat to find them, but she kept a nervous watch. The street was getting busy as morning arrived and London came to life. It was amazing how early some people were up and off to work.
They ate in silence. When they were finished, Rich said: “You think we should go back to the flat?”
“Or call the police.”
“They were no help before.”
“There’s a body now,” Jade whispered.
“If it’s still there.”
A shadow fell across the table. Jade looked up, assuming it was the man from the counter. It was a woman holding a mug of tea.
“Do you mind if I join you?” the woman asked.
“There’s lots of other tables,” Jade pointed out. “And we’re having a private conversation actually,” she added quickly. She knew Rich would just agree. He was far too polite.
But the woman sat down anyway, despite Jade’s words and her glare.
“I know,” she said, her voice accented. “About your father, I expect. And what happened at the flat.”
Jade and Rich stared at her. She was strikingly attractive, with narrow features and black hair that hung down almost to her waist. Her jacket looked like it came from a top fashion shop. She smiled at them.
“Look, who are you?” Jade demanded.
“My name is Magda Kornilov. I am a colleague of your father’s,” the woman said. “I want to help him. To help you. If you will let me.”
Jade looked at Rich. He shrugged. “How can you help us?” Jade asked.
“I can tell you what he was doing and why he was taken.”
“Then you know…” Rich started. He broke off as if unsure how much to say.
Magda nodded. “I know everything. I know your father worked for an oil company called KOS. I know he didn’t want you two around just at the moment because he was worried you would find out what he is really up to.”
“And what’s that?” Jade wanted to know.
“He is a spy,” Magda said. She sipped at her tea. “This is very good.”
“A spy?” Jade asked.
“An industrial spy, not like James Bond.” Magda put down her mug and mimed shooting Jade with her fingers. “Bang bang.” Her smile faded. “Though there is a lot of that, I am afraid, especially when you play for such high stakes.”
“Tell us,” Rich said. “We’re listening.”
“Very well. At the oil company, at KOS, they know your father as Mr Lessiter, an expert in oil refining and polymer chemistry. There is a real Mr Lessiter of course, and that is who they thought they had employed.”
“Those letters – the ones Dad threw away,” Rich said. “Remember? They were addressed to someone called Lessiter.”
“Your father is living in Lessiter’s flat,” Magda said. “Lessiter is away – paid off, or hidden, or perhaps even held captive.” She shrugged. “I don’t know which.”
“Why should we believe you?” Jade asked.
“It’s up to you. I’m asking for nothing. I’m offering to help. Believe me or not, but I am telling you why your father was not in his own flat, did not get his own mail, did not want you around, encrypted his phone conversations. And was kidnapped.”
“Because he’s an industrial spy,” Rich said.
Magda nodded. “KOS has developed a new formula – when added to petrol and other fuel oils it makes them far more efficient. You can run a car for longer on a litre of treated petrol. Airliners can travel further without refuelling. You can imagine how valuable such a formula would be. Your father stole it.”
“Never!” Jade exclaimed. There was a lull in the background noise as people in the café turned to look. “I don’t believe you,” Jade said more quietly. Rich shuffled in embarrassment.
Magda smiled and sipped her tea. “It explains away many things that have worried you. Why not believe it?”
“Are you saying that these KOS people – the oil company – that they found out?” Rich asked. “Found out and took him? Why would they do that?”
“They would not,” Magda said. “I work for KOS. I know. It was not them, though your father did steal a sample of treated fuel which we very much want back.”
“Then who took him?” Jade said. She was leaning back with her arms folded.
“KOS does a lot of work for the Ministry of Defence. Sensitive work. Anyone spying on KOS might have access to sensitive material that could harm British defence. There are security considerations.” Magda leaned across the table towards them. “Did you wonder why the police were so unwilling to help? Why they did nothing – even when there is a shoot-out in the middle of London they do nothing.”
Rich and Jade exchanged looks. “Go on,” Rich said.
“Because your father was not kidnapped. He was arrested, though he will never come to trial. I imagine he no longer officially even exists.”
Jade shivered as she remembered their visit to the police station, the fact there was apparently no record of their father. “But who took him?”
“The Security Services. MI5 or MI6, it doesn’t matter which.”
Jade frowned. “Why are you telling us this?”
“I worked with your father at KOS. OK, he is a spy, but I liked him. I think the Security Services have over-reacted.” She lowered her voice. “They Killed Phillips,” she said. “He was your father’s contact. Another spy. And they shot him down.”
“He had a gun,” Jade pointed out. Rich frowned at her.
“They were shooting at him,” Rich told her. “He was wounded, remember. They shot at us, Jade.” He turned to Magda. “Thank you for telling us this.”
“What’s in it for you?” Jade asked.
“I just want to help. It’s a tough business, and children should not be involved.”
“And that’s it?” Jade said.
“That’s it. Although if I could find the sample of fuel that your father took, that would be of immense help. Its return would give us something to bargain with. Something I could take to KOS and tell them to ask MI5 for your father’s release.” She sipped her tea. “Do you know where he hid it?”
“You just want this fuel sample back,” Rich said.
Magda nodded. “And if we can return what was stolen, then everything will be fine.”
“Will it?” Jade wondered.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Rich said. “Only, we have no idea where it is.”
Magda’s expression didn’t change. “He never mentioned it? You didn’t see him hide something?”
They both shook their heads.
“Maybe he gave you something to look after for him?” Magda suggested. “Told you it was important and not to say anything to anyone about it.”
“Nothing like that,” Rich told her. “We only met him a couple of days ago.”
“Ah yes,” Magda said. “Your mother’s death. I am sorry.”
Jade looked away. Rich took her hand, holding it below the level of the table, so that the woman would not see. Jade took a deep breath and turned back to face the woman. “I think you should go now,” she told her.
“I am sorry,” Magda said again. “But if you think of anything, anything at all, call me.” She handed Rich a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “That is my mobile number. I want to help you, but…” she shrugged. “No pressure, OK?”
Jade nodded. “OK.”
Rich turned back to face Magda. “Thank you,” he said.
Magda met his gaze. “I lost my mother too, when I was young. Perhaps no older than you. I know how it feels – how you must feel. I really am very sorry. I really do want to help.”
“Thanks,” Rich said quietly.
Jade said nothing, but tears were welling up in her eyes.
Magda nodded, smiled and walked out of the café. She did not look back.
“You believe her?” Jade asked as soon as the woman was gone. She wiped her sleeve across her eyes.
“I think so,” Rich said. “Why would she lie?”
“She wants this fuel sample stuff.”
“At least she isn’t shooting at us. Like she said – no pressure.”
“I suppose,” Jade conceded.
“And if we find it, or work out where it is, then this sample – it might get Dad back.”
“If we want him back,” Jade said quietly. “An industrial spy – what sort of dad is that?”
“We won’t know if we don’t find him,” Rich pointed out. “Keep her mobile number just in case.”
Jade frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Hang on…”
“What?”
“Dad’s mobile.”
“You think we can call him up and ask him where he is?”
“Don’t be daft. He hasn’t got it. I hid it. With his cigarettes, remember.”
“Oh, yeah. So?”
“So it’ll have contact numbers in it. People we can talk to – get help from.”
“Maybe,” Rich said. “Let’s have a look.”
Jade sighed. “I haven’t got it with me.”
“Back at the flat?”
She nodded. “If those men have gone…”
“It’s worth a look,” Rich said. “If the coast is clear there’s other stuff we might need too.”
“You mean like a change of clothes.”
“I mean like money. And passports.”
10
The lock on the front door to the building was broken. Rich hadn’t noticed in their haste to leave. But the place seemed quiet, so maybe no one else had either. Rich couldn’t remember seeing anyone else in the building at all. Perhaps Dad had the only occupied flat.
The bullet holes spattered across the wall close to the top of the stairs gave them pause for thought.
“You sure about this?” Rich asked apprehensively.
“No,” Jade told him. “But what else can we do?”
“Go to the police. They can’t deny the bullet holes exist.”
“And if Magda is right and they’re in on it? Maybe we’d disappear too.”
Rich couldn’t think of an answer to that. So he followed Jade as she tiptoed to the shattered remains of the door to the flat and waited at the door. Together, they listened for the slightest sound. But there was nothing. Just cars from the street outside. Somewhere, a dog barked.
“Come on then,” Rich said. He just wanted to get it over with. Hanging around not knowing what was happening was the worst thing.
Inside the flat, the picture of the train was on the floor, glass smashed and picture torn. The upholstery had been ripped off the sofa. The curtains had been pulled down from over the shattered window – glass and wood strewn across the floor together with books and papers and magazines. The television was a wreck. And there was a dead body lying face down in the middle of the floor.
Rich tried not to look at Phillips’s body and followed Jade quickly through to the bedroom. He glanced into the kitchen – and saw that too was a total mess, with everything emptied out over the floor and work surfaces.
The study door was open and Rich could see it was in an even worse state than the other rooms. Only their bedroom didn’t seem too bad, but even so the pillows and mattresses had been cut open and the stuffing pulled out.
“Pretty thorough,” Rich said.
“It’s… awful,” Jade said, looking round.
“You think they found Dad’s mobile?” Rich asked.
Jade went over to her bedside cabinet. The drawers were half open and stuff had been pulled out. She pulled the top drawer completely open. “I hid it in here,” she said.
Rich was amused, for what felt like the first time in ages. “In your knickers drawer.”
“Didn’t think he’d look there. Those men didn’t anyway – not properly.” She pulled out the phone and the packet of cigarettes.
“Bring those too,” Rich said.
“Why?”
“Because he’ll need a smoke if we ever find him.” Jade glared at him, but said nothing. She grabbed a small rucksack from the mess on the floor and tipped it upside down. A book and some make-up fell out. She stuffed the phone and the cigarettes inside. “There are only a few cigarettes left,” she said. “But his lighter is inside – he might want that back.” She pushed clothes into the rucksack.
Rich found his passport and tossed it over to her. “Stick that in too. I’ll see if I can find any cash. Maybe a credit card – you never know.”
“You can’t use Dad’s credit card.”
“He won’t mind. We’re on expenses. Wonder whose name it’ll be in – his or Lessiter’s.” His smile froze as he heard a sound.
Jade had heard it too. Something moving. Footsteps. Rich put his finger to his lips and walked slowly and quietly to the door.
There was someone in the living room. A dark figure knelt beside the body on the floor. Rich crept as quietly as he could to the door, hoping to get a good look at the man and then duck out of sight without being spotted.
The man looked up – straight at Rich. “Hello, young man,” he said. “I’d suggest a cup of tea, but I’m afraid the kitchen is a bit of a mess.” He pulled a crisp white handkerchief out of his pock
et.
Jade joined Rich in the doorway, rucksack looped over her shoulder. The man stood up and regarded them both with interest. He was a tall, lean man, with short dark hair that was beginning to grow thin, and he wore a dark blue suit. His hand was stained with blood where he had examined Phillips’s body, and he wiped it carefully on the crisp white handkerchief as he spoke.
“It probably sounds a bit inadequate,” the man said, “but I do apologise for the inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience?” Jade said. “He’s dead.”
The man nodded. “It wasn’t him to whom I was apologising actually.” He smiled, but there was no humour in it. “Bit late to apologise to poor Phillips.”
“You knew him?” Rich asked. “Do you work for an oil company then?”
“Oil company? Goodness me, no.” The suggestion seemed to amuse the man. “You think Phillips was in oil, as it were?”
“Wasn’t he?” Rich said.
“He was working with our Dad,” Jade told the man.
The man nodded. “That much is true, certainly.”
“So you know who we are,” Rich asked.
“Of course. And I’m delighted to meet you both. Did I say that already? Sorry if I didn’t. And sorry about your mother too, by the way. Oh, and your father of course.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” Jade said.
“No,” Ardman agreed. “Sorry.”
If he meant this as a joke, he gave no sign of it. He glanced towards the kitchen. “I wonder if the kettle is still serviceable. I really could do with a cup of tea. It’s been a very long night – and not a terribly productive one at that.”
“Who are you?” Rich said, trying to sound calm and in control.
“Oh, I am so sorry.” The man extended his hand and approached them. Then he realised that he was still holding the bloodstained handkerchief, and he stopped and let his hand drop. “My name is Ardman. My friends call me…” He frowned. “Actually, they call me Ardman too. Though I don’t seem to have very many friends these days.”
“All got shot, did they?” Jade said.
Ardman turned away, looking back at the dead body on the floor. “Yes, actually. A fair few of them anyway.” When he turned back he was smiling again. “Those men won’t be back,” he reassured them. “They’ve finished here. Now, why don’t you make us some tea?” he said to Jade.
