“He would, wouldn’t he?! But have I tried to kill him? No.”
“He showed me his stab wound.”
“It was self-defence, Eva. He was strangling me to death!”
Eva recalled an image of Jamie Blane, his face wild, approaching her in the penthouse kitchen, the moment before she pulled the knife from the kitchen drawer.
“If I help you deal with this, I’ll only do it on my terms. My terms, okay?”
“So long as you help, I really don’t care. But you’ve got to believe me. If you let Jamie mess with your head and turn you against me, I won’t have any chance at all.”
“Don’t worry about that. I don’t intend to let anyone into my head ever again,” said Eva.
Lauren fell silent and pushed the cash towards Eva.
“You’ve already paid me to do this,” said Eva.
“I need you fully on board.”
“Listen. If Jamie Blane paid that man to hurt you then I’m already fully on board. I don’t like being lied to, Lauren. Not by anyone. Keep your cash. I’m going to see this through.”
Eva leaned by the window and peered through the distorted glass at the cars beyond. She opened the window wider than before. The car parked in front of the white SUV was gone, and now she had a clear view of the front of the car. The white SUV was a Kia, a new one. She leaned to one side and opened the window a little wider until she could see the registration plate. She committed the licence plate to memory, repeating it under her breath to be sure. Lauren snapped the window shut in front of Eva’s face. Eva looked around.
“He mustn’t see that I know about him.”
Eva nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it from here.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“The first thing we do is play dumb. And while he thinks you’re still trapped, I’ll get to work on finding out who he is.”
“But you know who he is. That’s him. That’s Ironvelvet.”
“Know thine enemy,” said Eva. “I need to know a lot more than the name he uses in his email address.”
Lauren nodded as she put her cash back into her purse. “Fine, do whatever you think is right. But please don’t be long. The longer I’m here, the riskier it gets. It puts my mother at risk as well.”
“Of course. I’ll get to work right away,” said Eva.
“So this means you’re back on the case?”
“I’m not a quitter, Lauren. Whatever else you think of me, you should know I won’t quit until the job is done.”
Eva left Lauren standing in the living room doorway, her old mother still engrossed in watching Pointless, her glasses reflecting two miniature TV screens. Old age. If Eva was lucky, she guessed old age might come to her too, but she was damned if she was going to waste her days watching daytime quizzes while rusting away. Once upon a time, Eva had thought of going out like a firework. Going down fighting had often seemed likely, but looking at old Mrs Jaeger, Eva felt she was getting older too. If she and Dan had survived that long together, Eva reckoned she might take whatever she got. Eva left the Jaegers via the back door and walked around the bungalow until she emerged on the street. She kept her eyes dead ahead, only using her peripheral vision to keep an eye on the man in the white car. She didn’t dare look. Her own car was parked a little way back on the nearest side. Eva pretended the man wasn’t there and walked along as if she didn’t have a care in the world instead of feeling confused, bitter and furious. She seethed, her anger turning against Lauren, before it turned against Blane and came back again. She resented being dragged deep into their madness. They had made it personal. Eva had inadvertently broken all of her original rules about how not to do investigations. Laurence Potts, her old therapist, would have been apoplectic about her behaviour. But by now, it was too late and the only way out was ploughing on forward until the horror case was done. Eva walked to her car and made a show of looking up at the sky to see if there would be rain. She caught a glimpse of the face of the stranger peering back at her in his wing mirror. And as her eyes happened on the white car, Eva recognised a green window sticker in the bottom of the tinted back window. Reva Rentals. The SUV was a rental car. The sticker was her very first lead…
She returned to the office and found it quiet. At least that meant she could work in peace. There was a note from Dan on her desk, an explanation, something about Ronson and Basildon. The handwriting was too bad to read so Eva guessed the rest. Then she sat down and dialled Reva Rentals. If Dan’s car got much worse he would soon need a rental too, perhaps to cover until they bought something else.
A chipper-sounding female employee at Reva Rentals answered the call. Go in softly, Eva told herself. Go in softly and get your answer…
“Hello there. I was wondering about the hire prices on your saloon cars. What options are there for renting a saloon by the week.”
“Okay, we’ve got everything from a Ford Mondeo to the Mercedes SLK and everything in between,” said the girl.
“Then maybe we’ll look at the Mondeo,” said Eva. Dan as Mondeo Man? It wasn’t going to happen, but the Mondeo inquiry was no more than a stepping stone to the real purpose for her call.
The girl began to reel off prices and possible discounts for extended rental periods, but by now Eva was drifting back to her main objective. Even a Ford Mondeo seemed absurdly expensive to rent for any period of time. “What about one of those Kia SUV things? I see you rent those, and they look nice. I saw one of your Kias today actually, a nice big white one.”
“Oh? And which model was it? The Sportage or the Sorrento?” said the girl.
“I’m not sure. Here, let me give you the licence plate. You might be able to tell from that, I suppose?”
“If you have it, that would be great.”
Eva read out the number and she listened as the girl typed it into her system.
“That’s the Sportage model. New and very spacious. That particular car has been booked out for a fortnight I’m afraid, but we’ve got another in charcoal grey if you want to rent a Sportage.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. White did look very good… Funny thing is, I actually spoke to the driver of that car. He was parked outside and we started talking about cars. Seemed a nice chap actually.”
“Nice? Really?” said the girl. “Then I’m not sure we’re talking about the same man. I booked that car out myself. I offered the guy all the usual extra insurance cover plans and he wouldn’t even answer me back. Totally blanked me at the customer service counter. Signed the paperwork and walked out just like that.”
“Really? He wasn’t like that with me,” said Eva. “He must have been having a bad day.”
“Or a bad life.”
“When was that?”
“Monday. If you want a white Sportage, then that car will be back a week next Monday.”
“What was the chap’s name again?”
“Pardon?”
“The man I spoke to? The one who rented the car.” Eva knew she was pushing the envelope, but she hoped the fact they had already crossed over to informality might have helped.
“His name? His name is Brian Finn. I shouldn’t tell you really, but I don’t suppose it’ll do any harm. Anyway, what are you inquiring about? The car or the man who rented it?” the girl laughed. “I can’t give out phone numbers if that’s what you’re after.”.
“Oh, no, I’m not that keen,” said Eva. “But you could tell me one more thing, just to see if he’s worth the trouble. What’s his date of birth?”
“Date of birth?”
“Then I’d know if he’s the right age for me or not. Just curious, that’s all.”
“You must have a lot of time for daydreaming. Tut tut. Mr Finn was born on December tenth 1976. I can’t tell you any more that. Does that make him too old for you?”
“A little. But then again, if he was that mean to you, then maybe he isn’t my type after all.”
“I’m not sure he’s anyone’s. So then, would you like to rent
the Kia Sportage or the Mondeo.”
“Neither thanks. I think we’ll stick with the bus.”
“Don’t blame you,” said the girl. “Good luck with your man hunt, whatever you decide.”
The way the girl said the words man hunt made it clear she thought Eva’s interests lay primarily in romance. Which suited Eva fine. If the friendly little gossip knew she had been speaking to a PI, the news of her interest might have got back to the man called Finn. So, Eva had a name, she had a car, and she had a date of birth. She wondered whether to utilise her friends in the police, but it occurred to her to track back through the emails Lauren had given her before. There was always a chance something new might be gleaned if she looked at them as something genuine rather than another fabrication. Eva supposed the name Brian Finn was likely to be as false as the Ironvelvet moniker used on the emails. Certainly a professional wouldn’t give his real name and date of birth to all and sundry. Eva decided to hang on to those as a last resort. Instead she opened her desk drawer and took out the slim manila file with all of the documents relating to Lauren Jaeger. She flipped through the documents until she found the emails she was seeking then scanned them twice. It seemed they were useful only as evidence of what she already knew. But Eva wanted more and needed more. She needed the proof of her own eyes. If Lauren hadn’t lied, then she would be able to provide her with means of accessing Blane’s work emails. Yes, that would do it. She dialled Lauren’s mobile number then pinched the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she opened her laptop.
“Eva? What’s happened?” said Lauren.
“Nothing yet, but I’m already on it. Jamie Blane’s work email account. You had remote access, didn’t you? That’s how you got those emails.”
“Yes, we’ve been through all that. They’re genuine emails, Eva.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. I want to hack into his account and poke around for myself. Could you give me a step-by-step on how to access his email account?”
“I don’t see how it will help us.”
“Lauren...!”
“Okay, okay,” said Lauren. “Have you got a computer in front of you?”
“Yes. I’m ready to go.”
Eva clicked open a web browser and set her fingers at the ready.
“Right, first off you’ll need to go to the Blane Recruitment website. And when you get there, find the link for staff access, it’ll be located at the top right of the screen.”
Eva typed the words into the search bar and clicked through until she landed on the swish corporate website for Blane Recruitment. Lauren guided her through the rest of the process, locating staff emails and where to log in using Blane’s own credentials. To Eva’s relief the guidance worked. A stack of emails opened in front of her. To check she was at the right place, she clicked on one and found it addressed to Mr Jamie Blane.
“Are you in, Eva?”
“Yes, Lauren, thanks.”
“Good. Then let me know what you get.”
“I will. Just one thing before you go. Does the name Brian Finn mean anything to you?”
“Brian Finn…?” said Lauren. “Why do you ask?”
“That’s the name being used by the man in the white car?”
“I think you’ve got the wrong name there.”
“Probably,” said Eva. “But that doesn’t matter. Just stay indoors and keep well out of sight. I’ll call you soon as I can.”
She ended the call and looked at the screen noticing something odd. The email she had just been reading had vanished. Eva frowned. The email intranet had returned back to the main inbox, and the email she had been reading was nowhere in sight. Eva shrugged off the change as a typical technical glitch. Next she began to burrow deep into the emails, using the subject search bar for finding possible topics.
Searching for ‘Ironvelvet’ brought up the conversation she had seen as a printout in her file… so it seemed Lauren hadn’t been lying about that part. But there was nothing else about the name, and nothing relating to the period three years back around the time of Blane’s wife’s death – though she did find plenty of condolences and sympathy emails from work colleagues and clients. Brian Finn was almost certainly a false name. But who was paying for the Reva Rental car? If Jamie Blane had arranged the car, there should have been something to help point her in the right direction. Eva typed Reva Rentals into the searches. Up came a list of two dozen emails, most of them still in unopened bold type, unopened because they were sales emails. But there were a few exceptions. A car ordered in 2016. A compact car… Eva noted it was also a turbo-diesel injection – a CDTi. An oddly sporty choice for a functional work requirement. There had been a couple of other rentals since that time, a two-seater Aygo from the value range and another compact last year. Blane recruitment was a regular customer, ordering rentals on at least an annual basis from Reva. Eva guessed the cars were ordered for when staff had to go out of town for the job, or when Blane’s own car was out of action. She continued scrolling through the stack of emails until she spotted the one she’d almost missed. A rental confirmation for a Kia Sportage, booked for pick-up from central Southend last Monday. The booking had been made on the Saturday morning, which made it look like a last minute thing. A hasty plan. Eva saw the booking had been made under Blane Recruitment, and the name on the order was Brian Finn. Eva searched for the name Finn and found emails batted to and from a man called Brian, who signed his emails as the Finance Sector Specialist for Blane Recruitment.
So Brian Finn was on the payroll…
But a finance sector specialist as a paid killer? Finn as Ironvelvet. That didn’t just seem unlikely, it seemed preposterous. Blane would have had no need to communicate with a killer in the office by email. Any cloak and dagger arrangements would have been made face to face – far easier and safer. A finance man was a desk jockey money chaser, a salesman and a pen pusher too. Eva exited the email and went to the Blane Recruitment webpage. She clicked on the staff list and looked for the photograph besides Finn’s name. There. She found a thin pasty faced man with piercing blue eyes and a false smile. Brian Finn was nothing like the man in the Sportage. The killer was going under Finn’s name because hiring the car for the firm concealed its true purpose. Eva flicked back to the email account and frowned at the screen. As she watched, the search term suddenly vanished from the search bar and Eva tutted as the full inbox list appeared on screen. Eva decided to try something else. She typed White Sportage, and an email duly appeared. At the top of the list of search results was an email titled ‘Hire Car’. The search term ‘hire car’ seemed to be buried somewhere in the text. Eva saw the email had been retrieved from the delete file and felt a jab of excitement as she opened it.
Adam,
Your car is booked for pick up on Monday 8am. It’s a white Kia Sportage.
Car under name of Brian Finn.
Whatever you do, don’t get the car messy and keep it out of sight.
Eva anticipated that the email had been sent to the same old Ironvelvet account, and when she looked at the email address, she saw she was right. But she almost missed the obvious. The link between ‘Adam’ and Ironvelvet. Eva watched as the email she was reading disappeared from sight. She frowned and clicked into the deleted emails file, but the email was gone, the folder completely empty. But how? Eva bit her lip and stared at the screen. She typed ‘Adam’ into the search bar. Adam was the only clue she had left. Adam? Another made-up name, another red herring, as useless as Brian Finn. But what did it matter? She had to try it before something else happened. Another bunch of results were returned, and none seemed useful. Most were client files, applicants for various jobs named Adam, or people writing from firms with Adam or Adams in the title. But there was one interesting element which surprised her. An email to an Adam from Blane sent in 2016 saying that he’d received a confirmation from Reva that a ‘Corsa turbo diesel injection’ had been hired. And there was a response from an email address Eva had never seen before –
from [email protected].
Eva opened it. The response said the man hadn’t asked for the car. Eva’s eyes narrowed. Her heart started to beater faster at the implications… The rental car ordered around the time of Mrs Blane’s fatal accident… a connection to a man called Adam. Then Eva saw there was another email response tucked beneath the first – another reply from Adam, as if the first email had made him think enough to send the second one. The second reply was simple – a blunt one-liner.
Cancel the car. It’s a mistake. Your mistake, Blane, not mine. To be clear, never email this account again.
Blane had made a mistake… and Ironvelvet had realised. The reply email revealed the man’s real name was Boothroyd, and Blane had implied he had rented a car around the time of his wife’s death. Ironvelvet Adam was keen to disown the implication immediately. It was a mistake. Of course it was, Adam, but not your mistake, it was Jamie Blane’s… because the man called Adam Boothroyd could never be linked to the death by any traceable means. But disowning the rental was a futile gesture, because it only served to create further evidence.
“Sorry, Adam,” muttered Eva. “The link has already been made…”
The tone of the email was every bit as hard as any email Ironvelvet had ever sent Jamie Blane. But this time Eva had a name and therefore a chance that she had a way in. She felt elated. But as Eva looked on, the emails, every single one in the list, simply blinked out of existence. Eva saw a message box flash on screen for the briefest instant. “Delete emails?” she saw the mouse arrow hover over then click the Yes button.
“No!” said Eva. For a moment she wondered if her computer was playing tricks on her, if there was a virus at work. But then Eva realised what had been happening – what was still happening – and the implications were far worse. Eva logged out of the email account as fast as she could, like a thief on the run. She closed her web browser, snapped the laptop shut and stared out of the window wide eyed, wondering, hoping, worrying about the possibilities. “Adam…?” she whispered. “Adam Boothroyd?” As she regained her composure, Eva grabbed a pen from her desk and started to write down every detail she could remember from the deleted emails. She only hoped she could remember them correctly.
Play With Fire Page 8
