The Locker
Page 30
She dropped a copy of the spreadsheet for motorcycle parts on the table in front of Nancy, along with a decoded version which showed that the components were less likely to be used in any kind of transport but in a far more deadly array of equipment. It would probably do little to convince the woman, but it was all she had.
Nancy brushed it away without looking at it. “You’ve made this up—you’ve made it all up! And you’re the ones who put my daughter’s life in danger. Do you think I’m stupid—that I don’t know this was a government operation? Who was it—the British MI6? The American White House? The Israeli Mossad?” She picked up the papers and flung them in Ruth’s face, hitting her on the cheek, before subsiding on the settee, her face white with anger.
Ruth looked at Vaslik, who shrugged. He had said earlier that it was a no-hoper; that there was no way she would believe any of it. It seemed he was right.
Gina appeared in the doorway and gestured towards the stairs, where she had been watching over Beth. “She’s awake. She wants her mum.”
Nancy jumped to her feet and glared at them all. “Yes, leave me with my daughter,” she hissed. “All of you. And don’t come back. Get out!”
Ruth led the way outside and drove home. Gina and Vaslik went their separate ways. They had been told to take time off and kick back. A full debrief would come later.
Ruth felt bad for Nancy; whether she believed them or not, her husband had not shown up when he was most needed. It was the end of her world and she would have to pick up the pieces knowing that something in the story must be right; that her husband was not what he had pretended to be.
Unable to settle, she went to see how her father was coping with the death of George Paperas. He was tight-lipped but unwound sufficiently to wrap her in his arms. It was a welcome surprise after their last brief conversation.
“Not your fault, Ruthie,” he said softly. “No way you could have foreseen it. Don’t dwell on it.”
Two days later, her shoulder heavily bandaged, Ruth entered the Cruxys building and was surprised to see Grant along the corridor in conversation with Aston. Aston beckoned them into his office and closed the door.
“Miss Gonzales,” Grant said. “I’m not obliged to tell you this, but I think you have a right to know, in view of your involvement with the Hardmans. Just over two hours ago, Nancy Hardman and her daughter were taken to Northolt airfield on their way to Washington, accompanied by three special agents from the FBI. She has agreed to accompany them to answer some questions in return for a safe location.”
“Questions?”
He seemed to be debating what to say, then took a deep breath. “This is for your ears only, although I suspect it might come out sooner or later, the news channels being what they are. There are strong indications that Nancy Hardman was—is—not quite the innocent she seems to have pretended.”
“What does that mean?”
“From evidence just uncovered, she not only knew what her husband was doing but might recently have become actively involved.”
“What?” Ruth felt her stomach flip. She couldn’t believe it. Nancy Hardman, the apparently naive yet outwardly normal suburban housewife and mother?
“It’s true. Her fingerprints are all over it. We checked the computer at her place of work. There are traces of deleted documents and emails going back several weeks, all connected to Hardman’s activities in the Middle East. The trail leads to known money men with terrorist connections, and sources in Europe linking donations and collections within the Muslim community being channelled to banks overseas. Those same banks were listed on the Excel file you discovered, concealed in an encrypted sub-folder. We suspect she was processing and harbouring the information for him, but she probably knew what it was for.”
“Can you prove that?” Ruth recalled Nancy’s reaction to the spreadsheet: she hadn’t even given it a look. Was that genuine ignorance, or because she was frightened she might give herself away—that she didn’t have to look because she knew exactly what it was?
“Not conclusively. She has already intimated that she was acting in innocence, merely providing a back-up storage facility at her husband’s insistence. But that won’t fly for long.”
She didn’t know what to say. It turned everything on its head. “It was pretty careless, leaving that information lying around.”
“You’d be surprised. Most of the people we catch are delivered by their own hand. They firmly believe they’ll never make a simple mistake … until they do. Hers was thinking we’d never have cause to check her work computer.” He shrugged. “We probably wouldn’t, either … but then her daughter was kidnapped.”
She stared at the man. “And knowing this about her you let her go. Why?”
“Because the Americans have the resources and manpower to throw at her and unravel the network of accounts. Here in the UK we wouldn’t even get to first base; she’d be in court and protected by Human Rights legislation and a gallery of lawyers. It would be months, possibly years before we got anywhere, by which time it would be too late. From the files on her work PC we found the name and details of a firebrand legal representative. She knew what was coming and was prepared for it. You shouldn’t feel sorry for her.”
“I don’t. It’s Beth, poor kid.”
“She’ll be looked after, don’t worry. There’s more, too, on the nanny. Tiggi Sgornik wasn’t quite the innocent she seemed, either. She was recruited a couple of years ago as a potential operative by Mossad, Israeli Intelligence. They needed young, good-looking girls to work in the field. She dropped out during training and disappeared off the scene. Next thing she’s here in London and getting friendly with Nancy Hardman. It was clearly part of the set-up: get close to the mother and daughter, then wait for the signal to go.”
“But she ended up dead.”
“Maybe she decided that when it came to the crunch she didn’t want to go through with it. If so it was a threat to the others; they retired her to protect themselves.”
“How do you know all this? Were you involved?”
“No. The Americans discovered what was going on and sought to regain control of the situation. When it was obvious it was too late, they allowed the information to come out to see if we could help.”
“Were Greenville and Claas in any way connected?”
“No comment.”
“So what will happen to Beth and Nancy?”
“Nancy will be watched wherever she goes. She will know that, of course, and won’t put a foot wrong—at first. But she’s not a pro. When she slips up, they’ll be waiting.”
“Playing the long game.”
“Yes. She has an added complication to deal with: we suspect her husband won’t have revealed to anyone else where he kept the bulk of the money he used as his bank. A lot of the funds will have belonged to other money men or owed as collateral against deliveries of weapons. Sooner or later they’ll start asking questions … and they’re not a forgiving crowd.”
“So she’ll be used as bait again.”
He frowned. “That’s not my call—or yours. I think you should worry about yourself instead of her.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll be pleased to hear we recovered three members of the kidnap team, and they are now in police custody.”
“Three? What happened to the fourth?” She remembered the man she’d threatened with the stun stick after knocking her off course. He must have got clear and left the others to their fate. Some colleague.
“She got away.”
sixty
Ruth did a double take. “She?”
Grant looked pained. “I’m sorry, but the woman you knew variously as Helen or Clarisse escaped from a police van following her release from A&E.” If he had any thoughts about Ruth’s use of an illegal weapon, he didn’t voice them. “During the escape she seriously injured the esc
ort. We believe she will leave the country with assistance and we’re keeping an eye out for that. You might be wise, however, to take some time out and keep your head down for a while. We consider her extremely dangerous.” He glanced at Aston, who was nodding. “Richard concurs and has agreed to an immediate leave of absence.”
“Thank you, but there’s no need. I’ll spend time with my physio instead.” She spoke calmly enough but a small voice of caution wondered how serious the threat was. Professional operators didn’t normally carry grudges; setbacks were inevitable at times and were part of the rough and tumble of their chosen trade. But she recalled the vindictive expression on Clarisse’s face as she’d come at her with the knife. Using a weapon like that in public took a particular mind set. The woman was clearly not normal so those rules didn’t apply. It was enough to make her reconsider her decision. “OK, maybe not. Thanks.”
“Very wise.” He stood up and nodded to them both, and left the room.
Outside, Ruth found Andy Vaslik leaning against a car, with Gina Fraser standing nearby, eyeballing the traffic moving along the street.
“What do you two want?” she asked. Vaslik seemed relaxed but she knew him well enough now to judge that he was more on the alert than he looked. Gina was as ready for trouble as ever, with one hand under her jacket, probably clutching the butt of a semi-automatic and hoping she’d be given a chance to use it.
“We’re taking you home to pack,” said Vaslik. “Your orders are to go somewhere quiet and remote for a couple of weeks. Any ideas?”
“None that I’d share with you,” she muttered, glancing involuntarily along the street. She doubted Clarisse would be insane enough to pop up here, but Grant’s warning had been serious. “I don’t need babysitting, thank you.”
“Not your call, sister,” Gina said easily. “Our orders include tying you up if we have to and putting you on the first available flight out of Heathrow, courtesy of Cruxys. So you’d better come up with a destination, otherwise it could get messy.” She smiled the sting out of the comment, and for once her face looked almost serene.
Ruth let it go. They were right; looking over her shoulder until Clarisse was caught or went back to wherever she called home was pointless. She thought about where she might go. To her parents first, to reassure them, to salve their hurt. But that wouldn’t last long. Then … where?
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere,” said Vaslik. “We can even bump another passenger to get you on board if we have to. As long as you agree to come back, of course.”
“That’s not your say.”
“I know. But we get on so well.” He snapped a quick grin at her, and she felt her resolve crumble.
“OK. But what about you two?”
“We’re on vacation, too, as soon as you’re away. I have a meeting in Washington, which won’t be fun but it will be interesting. I think the suddenly retired Rear Admiral Drybeck and his dirty hands will be the main topic. Then I’m coming back.”
“Are you sure you’re safe going back there?”
“Absolutely. I have some big hitters on my side, including Grant and his people.”
Gina stepped up and patted the car roof. “Come on, guys. I’ve got a hotel room in Barbados with my name on it, so let’s get moving. Where to?”
Ruth nodded. There was only one place. It was a long flight but far enough away from all the craziness to be ideal. And she’d received that text message. It held a promise of something, but she couldn’t yet tell. Maybe taking a step back would be a good way to find out.
“Sydney,” she said. “Australia. I hear the beaches are good this time of year.”
the end
about the author
Adrian Magson (UK) is the author of the Harry Tate novels, the Lucas Rocco novels, and the Marc Portman novels. He is a member of the International Thriller Writers and the Crime Writers Association, and has been short-listed for the CWA Debut Dagger and the East Midlands Book Awards. Adrian writes two regular columns for Writing Magazine. Visit him online at www.adrianmagson.com.
Beautiful Losers
A Kim Slade Novel
eve seymour
Kim Slade has many admirers, but only one wants her dead.
Kim Slade is a clinical psychologist specializing in young women with eating disorders. She also has someone who specializes in her: an anonymous stalker.
When Kyle Stannard, a former male model with a facial disfigurement steps suddenly into her life, Kim assumes he’s her stalker. Partially scarred after a childhood accident, Kim believes this the reason for Stannard’s obsession and reports him to the police. But smart-mouthed Stannard denies the accusation and has a plausible explanation for every twisted move he makes.
Can Kim nail him?
Or is the person who wants to destroy her closer to home …
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