by Dan Latus
I nodded. ‘Martha?’
‘She’s in charge here, or she will be when she arrives.’
He spun away from me then before I could ask any more questions. I stepped after him, but already his phone was out and he was talking to somebody else. I let it go again. I was cool, chilled – for now, at least.
Martha, eh? In charge. For somebody who wasn’t here yet – who I had never even met – she seemed to be a very influential person.
Well, I thought philosophically, it looked like I was soon going to find out who she was at last. I couldn’t wait.
Chapter Twenty-Four
FIRST THING THE NEXT morning, I set out to see Leon before he disappeared. I found him in one of the sitting rooms, in a whirlwind. Talking, gesticulating, ending one phone call, starting another. I waited patiently. In a quiet interlude he grinned at me.
‘A lot of activity?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Chaos, actually. We put in a big shift last night, and we’ll be putting in another today. My people at the IT centre are being run ragged.
‘More problems with the US dollar, and with the US credit rating. The expectation is that Standard & Poor’s are going to down-rate the US again.
‘Meanwhile, of course, our friends in the Eurozone are not doing very well, either. So we have clients all over the world who are worried to death about where to move their investments to. So, yes, we’re busy.’
I think that was when I realized that Leonomics really was a serious business, and not a tax dodge or just some egotistical little game for the Podolskys.
‘What are you telling your clients?’ I asked out of curiosity.
‘It all depends on their particular circumstances, and on events as they happen. For a while, there, we were advising them to get into gold, but the price of gold spiked pretty high after Brexit. They’ll not lose out, but gold isn’t really such a great option anymore.
‘Futures, we’re telling them. Especially the basic foodstuffs – wheat, rice and so on. And oil, as well. That’s started to go up again now OPEC is getting its house back in order.’
He shrugged, smiled and said, ‘So what’s on your mind, Frank?’
‘A couple of things, Leon, security issues. I wanted to catch you before you leave. First, I’m concerned about patterns. You’re going backwards and forwards between Prague and Newcastle. If that doesn’t stop, someone over there will notice and wonder what’s so great about Newcastle in winter.’
Leon nodded. ‘I should have thought of that myself. Just too busy, I guess. Right. I’ll use different airports – where?’
‘Edinburgh and Carlisle come to mind. Then there’s Leeds-Bradford. Manchester. Even Durham-Teesside.’
‘OK. Anything else?’
‘There is, actually. This Martha. Who is she – family?’
Leon shook his head. ‘Martha works for me. She will manage the project. It’s what she’s good at. Talk to her when she arrives, Frank. Don’t worry!’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Now I gotta go!’
And then he was gone, leaving me vaguely dissatisfied. That old thing about Russia came to mind: a riddle wrapped up in an enigma. You could apply it to Leon himself, as well as to his homeland.
Martha hit the ground running. She arrived at the same time as the builder and his main men, and was immediately pounced on by the architect and Olga. The whole lot of them went into conference in a room that had been set aside for the purpose. I stayed clear. My turn would come.
Initial impression? Martha was a ball of fire. Thirties-something, trim figure, tall, long dark hair – radiating energy in a brisk, no-nonsense way. She was in charge and knew it, and so did everyone else.
Not my kind of woman, but I could see the attraction for Leon. He wanted someone capable to run things here in the UK when he was away. It looked as though he’d found someone.
I had coffee in the kitchen with the two security guys assigned to me.
‘Know her?’ I asked.
Roman, who spoke a bit of American English, grinned and said, ‘Sure. She’s the boss!’
‘So I understand. Is she Russian?’
He shook his head. Boris, the other guy, just grunted. So she wasn’t Russian.
‘What is she?’
They looked at each other and shrugged. They didn’t know.
Having got that subject out of the way, I turned to more practical matters. I told them I wanted the two of them to monitor who came on site once work got started. Nothing over the top, but I wanted them to watch and count heads, and make sure who was who. I would talk to the builder and get started on some physical security.
They were experienced and capable men. I had no doubts about their ability to spot things that were not right, and people who were not what they seemed. Locally, between us, we could cover security around the house. It was what was going on in the wider world that worried me. I just couldn’t believe that Leon’s activities would be unseen by somebody connected to Bobrik. Russian intelligence agencies had always had a long reach.
‘All will be good,’ Roman said with confidence. ‘Leon knows what he is doing.’
I hoped he did.
*
Martha found me gazing up at the hillside, wondering how easy it would be to get up and down it in the dark.
‘Hi! I’m Martha. You must be Frank Doy, the security guy?’
She sounded English, southern English. So that was one question answered.
I admitted she’d got the right man, and we shook hands.
‘Did Leon tell you I would be managing the project?’ she asked, all business.
‘Yes, he did. When you’ve got a spare half hour, I’d like to talk to you about the security arrangements I want to see put in place.’
‘This afternoon, perhaps?’
‘Sure.’
‘It’s going to be a busy day, Frank. I want to clear the way for the builders to start on site as soon as possible – tomorrow, hopefully. There’s a lot to do. But I also know how important security is. So we’ll talk again soon.’
Then she was off and away, already moving down the items on her agenda. My first impression had been confirmed. Martha had arrived like the proverbial tornado.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BY THE END OF the morning, preparatory work had started on site. I watched as the builder, James Cummings & Son, brought in men to erect scaffolding and tarpaulins. By the end of the day, The Chesters was pretty well cocooned in plastic sheeting, just as Olga had said was to happen. I didn’t know if that was down to Martha or to an incentive scheme. Either way, work on the building could now proceed regardless of the weather.
True to her word, Martha called me in to see her during the afternoon. She had set up an office in a small room that had been disused until then.
Andrei, the Russian architect, gave me the nod. ‘Martha wishes to see you now,’ he told me, making it sound like reporting to the headmistress’s study.
‘OK, Andrei.’
‘Now,’ he instructed, making it an imperative, and making me wonder if he’d had his head chewed off.
I smiled, decided not to react and went to see what the boss wanted.
She was immersed in voluminous paperwork already, but looked up as soon as I appeared.
‘Thanks for coming in,’ Frank,’ she said.
‘That’s OK. We need to get at it.’
‘I’ve been looking at the cost profiles and manning schedules,’ she said without further preamble. ‘They’re both over the top.’
‘Oh?’
‘You’ve got two guys working security with you. I need one of them. Keep Roman. I’ll use Boris.’
I grimaced. ‘There’s a lot to do here, Martha.’
‘Indeed there is,’ she said crisply. ‘And I don’t believe security concerns are top of the agenda right now, not out here in the wilds of Northumberland. We’re running into the coldest part of winter in the next couple of weeks, and I want to make sure work is well under way by the time
the snow comes.’
I shrugged and wondered how good she was at forecasting the weather. It didn’t snow every winter, even up here.
‘So what else do you need, Frank?’
I thought it best to focus initially on installing the hard security, rather than the soft stuff that people do.
‘Well, I need to talk to the builders about the perimeter fence that we need to erect to stop an approach by vehicles. It will—’
‘Leave that for now,’ she said impatiently. ‘We don’t need that immediately. Let work on the house get started. Then talk to Cummings about it.’
‘Leon accepted the need for it,’ I said mildly. ‘He told me to go ahead.’
She shook her head. ‘Leon left me to manage the project.’
‘Well, you’re the boss,’ I said with a shrug.
She nodded to confirm it, and then switched track. This was not going how I had anticipated.
‘Then there’s project costs. Your daily rate is on the high side, Frank. I want to cut it back some.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s my standard rate, and it was agreed with Leon.’
‘Leon isn’t as aware as he should be of local payment structures. We need to cut back.’
It was time to dig my heels in. ‘It’s not going to happen, Martha. That’s my standard charge-out rate.’
‘We’re not paying you that much, Frank – and that’s final.’
‘You’d better find someone else, then.’
‘That’s easily done, Frank.’
‘Then do it.’ I got to my feet and added, ‘Something you should know, Martha. I really don’t need this job. I didn’t want it in the first place. I’m only doing it as a personal favour to Leon and his sisters.’
‘I don’t see it like that,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Business is business.’
‘Good luck,’ I said, as I turned to leave. ‘I hope it works out well for you.’
I left her to it. Strangely, perhaps, I wasn’t particularly annoyed. Surprised, certainly, and irritated, but not indignant or outraged. Nothing like that. To be honest, Martha had done me a favour. As I’d told her, I hadn’t been eager to take the job in the first place. So I could get my life back now.
There was no way I was prepared to stay anyway, not with Martha in charge, and already moving the goal posts. She might be a big operator in her world, but I never have been well suited to the ways of big business. It was one reason why I preferred to work for myself, rather than for someone who could offer me a pension plan.
Still, I thought ruefully, the money Leon had been going to pay me would have kept me afloat for quite a while. Pity about that.
It didn’t take me long to pack my stuff. I didn’t have much that was worth taking with me. There hadn’t been much opportunity to replace what I’d lost at Leon’s place in Prague. What little there was went into my pockets. Prague. I smiled wryly to myself. How long ago and far away all that seemed now.
That done, I went looking for Olga, to say goodbye. She wasn’t there. Roman said she had gone into Newcastle with Andrei. So I shrugged and asked him to run me into the village five miles away. I would have preferred to get him to run me home, but I didn’t want to risk him being reprimanded by Martha for exceeding the travel expenses budget.
Once there, I thanked Roman for his support and wished him well. He seemed surprised I was leaving at first, but soon recovered.
‘Martha, eh?’ he said with a sympathetic grin.
I returned the grin and patted him on the back.
After Roman had left, I headed into The Black Bull to dawdle over a pint and work out what I was going to do next.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I GOT SETTLED IN and had a meal in the bar. The place had a pleasant atmosphere. Local people having a quiet night out, for the most part. There was a football match on the telly for those who weren’t interested in food.
I sat by myself in welcome solitude, reflecting on an extraordinary few days. Already it seemed like a dream, a bad dream much of it. I just hoped things would work out well for the people I liked who were still taking part in the dream. I would keep my eyes and ears open. Somehow, I would have to discover the outcome. I might even talk to DI Bill Peart, my old pal in the Cleveland police. Something was bound to break eventually. This was England, after all, not the Wild East.
The rattling of a nearby window told me it was turning into a cold, wet night. If I listened hard, ignoring the telly, I could hear the rain beating against the glass. In here, though, in this comfortable warm bar, it was heavenly. I didn’t think many of the pub’s customers would be leaving soon. Probably not for a long while. Me, neither. So I relaxed and enjoyed the sense of being off-duty. Then at 10.30 I called it a night and shuffled off to my room, well content.
I wasn’t ready for sleep, though. Too much to think about, too many loose ends. So I sat in a chair and listened some more to the rain and the wind outside. What a night! I felt sorry for anyone who had to be out and about in it. No doubt there were a few hardy souls diligently pursuing their chosen calling. Shepherds perhaps, or a mechanic running a breakdown and recovery service. Fishermen, maybe. There were always people who had to be out even on a night like this.
Just as I was about ready to flop into bed, there was a brisk knock on the door of my room. What? Had I forgotten to tell them downstairs what time I wanted breakfast, or whether I wanted kippers or a “Full English”? I smiled wryly and got to my feet.
‘Yes?’ I said, opening the door. Then I stopped and stared with astonishment.
‘Martha!’
‘Good evening, Frank. May I come in?’
Without waiting for my reply, she stepped forward. I moved aside.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘What have I forgotten?’
‘What are you doing here?’ she responded, turning to face me.
‘Getting a good night’s sleep, I hope.’
‘Here?’
‘This is fine. It was too late to go any further anyway.’
She nodded and glanced around.
‘What do you want, Martha?’ I asked impatiently.
‘Come back to The Chesters with me.’
I smiled and shook my head. ‘No way!’
‘I would appreciate it if you would.’
I stared hard at her. She seemed to be perfectly serious.
‘Look, Martha, you and I didn’t hit it off, and I can’t see that changing. You’ve got a job to do, and I’m happy to be out of something I never really volunteered for in the first place. Get someone else.’
She gave a big sigh and flopped into the only chair in the room. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Oh, I think it is.’
She shook her head and sighed. ‘I’ve just had my arse kicked by Leon. He said I have to get you back.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or look for another job.’
I laughed at that. It was the funniest thing I’d heard for a long time.
‘It’s not funny,’ she protested. ‘Leon meant it. I’m to give you an apology, let you do what you think fit, and assure you that you will be paid every penny of what you and he agreed.’
‘Even though it’s far too much, in your view?’
She shrugged but didn’t say anything.
‘Like I’ve told you, Martha, I don’t want the damned job! I don’t really care what the pay is. I don’t want it. OK? I’m glad to be out of it – after some of the toughest, ugliest days of my life. I’m going home in the morning.’
‘How will you get there?’
‘What?’
‘You haven’t got transport, have you? How will you get there?’
‘That’s the least of my worries. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll sort something out in the morning.’
I wandered over to the window to give myself breathing space. I was angry now. I wanted rid of her. But how to do it without physical assault?
A big four-by-four went by. A Toyota, I thought, a Land
Cruiser. It was followed by a truck, a pickup. What I would give for either one of them. At the moment I was stranded. How would I get home? Phone for a hire car, presumably. In the morning.
‘How did you find me?’ I asked over my shoulder.
‘It wasn’t difficult. I asked Roman where he’d taken you, and started from there.’
There weren’t many places I could have gone, I supposed. The village had a pub, but not much else. Not even a shop. I wondered if the old stone church would still be open, but that would only be on a Sunday – and not every Sunday.
A couple of cars went past. Farmers returning home from a night in some other pub. Foresters even. What was wrong with their local? The Black Bull seemed fine to me. It had everything you could want – food, telly, dartboard, even beer.
‘What do I have to do to persuade you to change your mind?’ Martha asked. ‘You seem to be important to Leon, and he wants you back on site very much. Do I have to grovel? Is that what you want?’
‘You could always get yourself another job, Martha. Have you thought of that?’
She didn’t answer. She was brooding. She couldn’t get her own way for once, and didn’t like it. She didn’t know what to do about it, either.
‘Leon said to pay you what you ask – give you a pay rise, if necessary.’
I sighed. It was exasperating. I couldn’t get through to her that I was finished with the whole damn lot of them.
As another pickup went past the window, I wondered what the big event they were all coming home from had been. Something special, in late November. A pie and peas supper? The local hunt ball?
‘You’d better go, Martha. You have my answer. I’m not going to change it.’
I turned away from the window and gaped with astonishment. Martha had removed her coat and sweater and now was unfastening her bra.
‘Will this change your mind, Frank?’ she asked, straightening up, her breasts pointing at me dangerously.
‘What the hell…?’
‘I mean it,’ she said, stooping to pull down her jeans.
