Know your enemy. Yes, she made it her business too. “I must say, our conversation has given me quite an appetite,” she said.
“I opted for an Indian banquet. Quite appropriate, don’t you think?”
As Scott opened the stainless steel servers, the scent of spices wafted from the array of food - cardamon, garam masala, chilli. Kal made her selection slowly and carefully.
She carried her plate to the table, set for two, and Scott seated himself opposite.
“ScottBioTec’s third-generation limb looks set to catch the headlines and I’d be interested to hear more about it.”
“Of course.”
Scott began with the current phase of the research and their new discoveries about brain chemicals. Kal knew most of it already. She asked questions as she ate. Scott appeared to be completely at ease - enjoying his food, talking with eloquence, gesticulating with his fork. Then at some moment, her eyes strayed to the granite counter-top a good distance behind Scott. A bolt of electricity shot up her back. Beside the corkscrew, lay a remote-control device, slim and black, like a phone, it was placed slightly to the right of Scott's head.
“Is there something wrong?” Scott said.
She brought her gaze back to her plate. She mustn’t stare at it. Without taking the remote in her hand she couldn't be one-hundred percent certain, but she felt sure the item left in the kitchen was a remote control unit for an artificial limb.
Scott dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Is something bothering you?”
“Not at all, please continue.”
Scott picked up his rendition and she continued eating, avoiding looking at the slim-line unit. Scott must have positioned it there deliberately. There was not one single item out of place in this house, and he had put his wine glass on the table before she did. He’d planned for her to sit in this seat and he’d placed the remote control unit intentionally in her line of sight. Scott was true to type - a certain sort of paedophile likes to show off, enjoys vaunting his cleverness.
As Scott talked on, Kal made herself go through the discipline of logical deduction. The conclusion of the process came out exactly the same as the reflex that leapt to mind as soon as she spotted the device - that Scott was sequestering Amita in the house, right here, right now. That he’d invited her here for the thrill of having her in close proximity to the captured child. As part of his kicks. Rage flared red hot and mingled with her blood. In Kal’s imagination, a red target mark flickered on Scott’s brow.
She put down her cutlery. “Excuse me, may I use your restroom?”
“Of course, it's down the hallway.”
As she stood, Scott tugged down the already faultless cuffs of his shirt and she fancied a ghost of satisfaction played around his mouth. Only force of willpower stopped her from slamming her fist into his face.
Her nerve cells had gone into overdrive, her muscles screaming to be thrown into action. She willed herself to walk casually across the lounge where she pulled the door softly shut behind her. The bathroom lay further down the passage. With heavy footsteps, she walked towards it and, remaining on the outside, smartly pulled the bathroom door closed. Then in one smooth gesture, she removed her shoes, hitched up her dress and sprinted back along the hallway and straight up the staircase.
On the top landing, the carpeted floor masked her quick footsteps. She would search the whole house systematically. Every quadrant of every room. Perfectly silently. He was a pervert - it was part of his high to invite her here - to have her touching distance from Amita. She was certain. Her muscles shivered, full of bodily drugs and the hormones which come with simultaneous fast action and stealth.
First bedroom; two windows both locked, a walk-in closet with no exits, an en-suite bathroom also with no exits. Kal ran her hand down the walls, checked the carpeting for any marks where it might habitually be pulled aside. Examined the wooden skirting for tell-tale signs of scuffs or scratches from over-use. Scanned the ceilings. Nothing. No hidey holes, no hidden recesses.
Second bedroom, same story; no marks, no give-aways. No tiny clues on door frames or inside closets. Third bedroom, ditto. No attic openings. Smooth, painted walls. Be meticulous, she commanded herself. Don’t miss any detail.
Next a luxury bathroom; large tub, glass-enclosed shower unit, tiled walls. She checked the tiling. No secret panel. She ran her hands over the flooring and along the side of the tub. Nothing.
Time ticked on and her frustration kicked in. She judged she had a couple more minutes before Scott might wonder. Then he might exit to the hallway. No matter. She could deal with him.
Fourth bedroom and fifth; windows locked, walk-in closets with nothing amiss, ensuites with no exits, no signs of any underfloor entrances. No indication of a trap-door of any kind. No cupboard spaces or under-beds she hadn't checked. No one could be hidden up here, not even stuffed into a tiny space but Amita was here. She knew it. She could smell it. Everything pointed in that direction.
She stopped – what have I overlooked? Yes, she should verify the sizing of the rooms. So she paced the length of the walls and referenced them inside and out to check for any compartment that might be hidden between rooms. Nothing. Yet she felt sure. Scott was true to type - Amita was in the house.
Running back down the stairs, her heart went double-time. She made for the first door opposite the lounge. In one movement she opened it and switched on the light. A bureau. One patio window, locked. Book shelving on one wall, completely solid. A parquet floor. Kal got down on hands and knees to examine the flooring, testing with light taps of her knuckles. No hollow sounds. No signs of imperfection. No hidden cupboards. She stood still, straining for any slight sound, any indication of Amita signalling for help.
Exiting the bureau, she headed for the door further down the hallway. A key sat in the lock and her hand hesitated. Why had Scott left the key there? She took it out, in case he decided to try locking her inside. Then she opened the door.
A double garage. Metal door to the rear exterior. Three blank walls of bare bricks and a concrete floor, recently swept. Kal ran zig-zag across the concrete, starting one corner and working her way across, checking for signs of wear, unusual tags, anything suspicious, any sign of a concealed entrance. Nothing. No cellar. Nothing underground. Dammit. She knew she was right.
Closing the door, she replaced the key. The hallway held no other doors, no hidden entrances. The parquet flooring as perfect as it was in the bureau. She dived into the bathroom and locked the door. Examined the enormous restroom, full of luxury fittings, complete with a mirrored make-up area. Nothing. Her frustration sky-rocketed. It made her breathless. Keep it under control, she commanded herself. So she stood for a moment and closed her eyes - Scott invited her here, he left the remote in clear view. She could swear he was keeping Amita in the house, or, wait. Her eyes sprang open. What if Scott was jerking her chain? Was she so desperate to locate the child, he could make her run wherever he wanted? Toy with her as a cat plays with a mouse. Opening up her avenues of weakness. Out-psyching your opponent was an effective tactic in breaking down someone’s willpower. Used consistently, it could bring hardened professionals to their knees. Certainly she’d rattled him in penetrating to the heart of his set-up in Kolkata. A man with Scott’s psyche would delight in spinning out his revenge.
Putting her shoes back on, Kal brushed concrete dust from her calves and checked her hair in the mirror before walking back to the lounge.
“Did you find what you wanted?” Scott enquired.
The arrogant son-of-a-bitch. She must goad him to the full.
“No. Do you always feel the need to be so cautious? It’s as if you’re scared. Why not be open?”
“It's unwise to show all one's cards before the due moment.”
“It's only unwise if one feels threatened. A master at his game is beyond petty anxieties, my father told me that. So I guess that means you’re not yet a master.”
“Whereas your father was?”
“Perhaps he was, in his own way.”
“So young, and so naïve. It’s a shame he didn’t teach you how the world really works. Be careful, Kal, the world is full of nasty surprises but let’s not linger on unpleasantries. Are you ready for desert, or have you had enough?”
“I’m in no hurry to leave. Desert would be fine.”
“While you were away, I took the liberty of selecting a second bottle of wine,” Scott held out the label for her approval, “would you care to try it? It's one of my favourites.”
She’d worn her hair piled into a high chignon with the ends trailing down, just as Alesha occasionally did. Now she tucked a stray strand behind her ear.
“Your resemblance to your mother is astonishing.”
After the fruitless search of the house, she was running on mental endurance, but she fancied she caught a nuance in Scott, which made her imagine his comment had slipped out unbidden. Had she caught a resonance of emotion when he spoke about her mother? A resonance of love? Though she realised it didn’t sound exactly like love. Rather, it was a feeling closely aligned. She concentrated.
“I find it curious you followed my father's activities, how so?”
“As I'm sure you're aware, my research institute is located in the Bengal province of India. Over the years, I established relations with several influential, Indian businessmen and the networks of India and Pakistan are intimately related, as is their history, so it’s no surprise David Khan came to my attention. There aren’t many big fish in the pool. I tracked his activities simply because one day he may have become useful to me.”
A single word slid into Kal’s mind. Obsession. Yes, Scott hadn’t been in love with her mother. A person like him might fancy what he experienced was love, but no, he’d been obsessed by Alesha. As one can only become if you document someone’s activities over a long stretch of time, never actually meeting the person - imagining, extrapolating, fantasising. She realised it wasn’t only David Khan’s activities Scott had tracked. He’d been stalking her whole family - Sunni, Nannie, Alesha. That’s how he’d known such intimate information to recount at the Gala. It was part of some sick, historical archive he’d been keeping for years.
Kal’s rage hardened. She knew Richard Scott’s identity. He was Henderson’s son, and that meant he had arranged the murder of her grandfather.
Scott toyed with a desert spoon, “You were twelve, weren’t you, when your father died? Your mother told me she met you at the school gates. You guessed she’d come with bad news and you ran to a friend's house. She found you there hours later.”
She stared at him, her mind tagging red target marks all over his body.
“What was the name of that friend whose house you hid at, wasn't it Marty King? Are you still in contact with her?”
Her back flashed hot. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Goodness, Kal, what an imagination you’ve got, of course not. Why would I threaten your friends?”
Her chair scraped against the parquet. “Whilst you may suspect other people of stupidity, I warn you not to make that mistake with me.”
Spikes of fury shot through her system. One blow to the face and Scott would be down. Hadn’t her father trained her to be a killer? She could feel it in her veins, in her boiling blood. One shot to the forehead, or the heart. Or for a slow and painful end, a hit to the stomach and watch him bleed to death. Kal’s chest and arms shook with the strain of holding it in. Inside, the butterfly wings fluttered again, more weakly, threatening to be crushed in the avalanche. Stalking across the room, she swept up her coat.
“Leaving so soon? How disappointing, and I was about to enquire about the health of your grandmother.”
Her answer came out like a snarl. “Come back to me with a ‘yes’ on the money and don't push your luck.”
Kal marched staccato down the hallway and heard the click as, from his position at the lounge doorway, Scott casually unlocked the entrance bolts and allowed her to exit.
***
Running down the street and around a corner, Kal fumbled for her phone. LeeMing answered straight away.
“LeeMing, listen!” she shouted.
“I'm listening. What's happened, tell us clearly and precisely.”
“Nannie's in danger, she needs protection! Scott’s targeting her and…”
LeeMing cut her off. “Calm down. I already took care of it.”
“You what!”
“I made that decision when you got back from India. My contacts have been watching the nursing home ever since I knew about the attempt on your life. Your grandmother is perfectly safe.”
“And when exactly were you going to tell me!”
“Take it easy, and that's okay, you can thank me later.”
She swore at him and demanded to speak to Marty. “Watch your back, Marty, I’m serious, Scott made a threat against you and he means it.”
“No sweat,” Marty replied, “we’ve been waiting for you to phone. Sounds like you had an eventful evening.”
“Damn Scott, Marty, damn him! He’s stringing me along. He’s got me running in circles. He’s a clever bastard. Clever, calculating and deadly.”
“Yes, we knew that,” said Marty softly, “and remember, so are you.”
Chapter Forty-four
My increased surveillance of the scum family got me results because I discovered the wife didn’t escape the fire by accident. She might have had help. That’s why the man with no name told me to lay low. That’s why he’d refused a third contract on the scum family. No matter, I’d find someone else.
The information was buried deep. It took me time and effort. It was like chasing shadows – no one wanted to tell. But eventually, a whisper reached me – and the whisper was ‘Lone Wolf’.
I’m a man who knows secrets and it seemed Lone Wolf had plenty of his own. Tracking him was like tracking smoke but in tracking a man, you pinpoint his weaknesses – a man, his lover, his secrets, his dreams and vices. All those weaknesses that one day you’ll enjoy exploiting.
And it brought me my first client - a man with massive wealth who wanted his desires and demands met. I supplied. And I catalogued his acts. And so I became a supplier, and in time I became the Controller, a man who delivers to a select circle of the elite.
Chapter Forty-five
My increased surveillance of the scum family got me results because I discovered the wife didn’t escape the fire by accident. She might have had help. That’s why the man with no name told me to lay low. That’s why he’d refused a third contract on the scum family. No matter, I’d find someone else.
The information was buried deep. It took me time and effort. It was like chasing shadows – no one wanted to tell. But eventually, a whisper reached me – and the whisper was ‘Lone Wolf’.
I’m a man who knows secrets and it seemed Lone Wolf had plenty of his own. Tracking him was like tracking smoke but in tracking a man, you pinpoint his weaknesses – a man, his lover, his secrets, his dreams and vices. All those weaknesses that one day you’ll enjoy exploiting.
And it brought me my first client - a man with massive wealth who wanted his desires and demands met. I supplied. And I catalogued his acts. And so I became a supplier, and in time I became the Controller, a man who delivers to a select circle of the elite.
Chapter Forty-six
A bitter wind swept across the tarmac. Kal pulled her woolly hat down as far as it would go. Laid out in front of them like a child’s play set, the private airfield consisted of a runway, one hangar and a squat office. Two cars sat by the office, presumably belonging to employees. The only indication of activity was a light in an upstairs window.
“Scott makes all his flights from here and, according to my source, he flew to Kolkata yesterday and is due back tonight,” Marty said.
“With another victim to supply to a customer?” LeeMing asked.
“When the flights are logged, the details of the passengers are left out,” Marty said.
&nb
sp; “Of course they are, except why else would the bastard go there so soon?” Kal said. Lying out flat on the top of a grass embankment, Kal surveyed the landing strip through binoculars. “Those perverts think they’ve got it all wrapped up.”
By her side, LeeMing lay stretched on his stomach. “Keep it steady, Kal. As soon as Scott makes a false move, we’ve got him. Don’t let it be us who breaks first.”
LeeMing didn’t mean ‘us’ breaking first, he meant her, she knew that. “Don’t worry,” she lied, “I’m not cracking.”
“So, Marty, you've got inside contacts, how so?” LeeMing asked.
“I've all types on my team at work, including plenty of ex-police and ex-army. It only took a couple of discreet questions to get information on Scott's air-time.”
“We want to know who comes in on that flight,” Kal said, “and we've got to be ready to intercept any child. Did you get the merchandise, Marty?”
Marty delved into a pocket. “All I need do is conceal this baby on the car and then we can track them. The only problem is if they use two vehicles, because we've only got one unit.” Marty waved the box under Kal's nose. “Remember, this equipment cost thousands of pounds and it's strictly on loan. If it gets lost or damaged, we'll have to replace it.”
“No problem,” Kal said, “so we sit tight.”
Marty pushed the tracker back into her jacket. “I'm going to the fencing down by the gates. I want to double check I’ve got the layout memorised for when it gets dark.”
Kal turned back to surveying the airfield.
“Marty's very protective of you. I guess that’s because you've known each other a long time,” LeeMing said. “Or is there more to it than that?”
“You choose your moments for the personal questions, don't you?”
“Now seemed as good a time as any.”
The wind picked up for a few moments, causing her to check she'd zipped her jacket fully to the top. She had. She rolled to face LeeMing. “Marty and I have been friends since way back, though we were never exactly a couple, if that's what you're asking.”
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