‘No. Not for some years.’ Tears trickled down Sir Jeremy’s cheek as he realised how selfish he had been. His poor wife. Lumbered with a pervert too frightened to ask her to shave, but willing to risk ruin and prison for his sexual preferences. It made no sense.
‘We didn’t do it much, ever. I couldn’t enjoy it. The hair – it disgusted me.’ He had finally admitted it. To himself. To Kylie. He realised it wasn’t so difficult, this sex talk.
If only he could turn the clock back.
‘So you found girls, like me?’
‘Not at first. I was a policeman…’
‘Yeah. A pig. You told me.’
He sensed some real venom in her tone but ploughed on.
‘I met prostitutes. They offered favours. I was young. Said what I needed – no hair. At first I went with the shaved older ones. Then gradually younger ones.’ To his own ears, it sounded totally bloody pathetic. He was totally bloody pathetic.
‘Then you found me!’ Kylie sat up.
‘Yes, but long before then, one of the girls told me a man was taking photographs of young girls.’
‘Georgie?’ Kylie pulled back the cover, started picking wax from her vagina.
‘Yes, he...’ Sir Jeremy watched her for a second. ‘Did that hurt?’
‘Course. Stupid. Always hurts. The pills help though.’
Sir Jeremy could not face hearing any more about the pain he had caused her. He said nothing.
Kylie stopped picking, rolled the wax in her fingers and tossed it across the room. ‘Go on – Georgie was taking pics. Took some of me too – not just with you here. Said not to tell you. He was a bastard.’ She shuddered.
Sir Jeremy wanted to shut off her words. He needed to finish his, what? Confession?
‘He sold me some photographs and we got friendly. Always a private friendship. In public we didn’t really talk.’
‘You were mates and didn’t talk? You’re weird!’
She was right. They certainly were weird.
‘Later he started selling them through the internet, though not to me, I always bought them from him personally. The people he sold to, and George himself, got into some trouble. I helped them out of it.’
‘Wot? As a copper?’
‘Not quite, but close enough. I was in a position to help and I did. That man who was hurting you...’
‘He’s on the telly, y’know. Fuckin creep.’
‘Well, he would be in prison now if I hadn’t helped George... He should be in prison!’ Sir Jeremy said it with such force he surprised himself.
‘So should you!’ She laughed a strange little laugh. Some bitterness there he detected.
‘You’re right. I always justified it. Thought they were all like me...’
‘Nah. You never hurt me. Georgie bloody did.’
And then it was Kylie’s turn. Sir Jeremy’s self-pity, self-disgust and self-loathing were as nothing compared to the horrors of Kylie’s harsh life.
He cried for her. For what he had done, and for what he was, and he held her as she cried too. And then, in that moment, he decided he would be the best dad she had never had.
For Sir Jeremy the worst of it was his own involvement. And George had hurt his girl. Bullied and bribed her, hit her and lied to her.
She believed the apartment was hers already. The documents held until she was a little older. ‘Georgie’ had promised. He was supposed to give her money too, enough to live on for a while. Then he would get her modelling jobs. He had said life would be great, like it was for the other girls before her.
‘Kylie. He lied to you.’
She was in tears already, but more came.
Sir Jeremy carried on. ‘This apartment is in my name. He had already given it to me.’
She looked at him, her young face crumpling, tearstained and naive. It was not angina that crushed his heart this time.
He knew he could at least put one thing right. ‘I promise you this, Kylie. Look at me.’ They locked eyes and he made his vow. ‘This apartment will be in your name. I will start the paperwork tomorrow. It only takes a couple of weeks. Okay. I promise.’
Her face brightened as he spoke, she bounced across the bed and tried to kiss his mouth, got his cheek instead as he turned his head.
‘I ask you just one thing in return.’
Kylie stopped bouncing, her face serious, worried. Where’s the catch? it said.
‘You must never tell anybody, not a single word, about anyone or anything that happened here.’ He could only go so far.
Or could he?
‘Georgie said that too.’
Sir Jeremy ignored the comparison. ‘I’ll find a little money for you too, but my wife – ’
‘Wot, you give your missus your wages like me granddad did wiv me gran?’ She was laughing at him again. ‘You’re such a total wanker!’
He ploughed on, ignoring the slight and the truth it contained. ‘George gave you money? For food, clothes?’
‘Yeah. I went shoppin for clothes and things, too, on Saturdays and Sundays – me days off. Had me own shopperown.’
‘Shopperown? Ah, your own chaperone!’
‘Whatever.’
‘So during the week, you stayed here all day, every day, waiting for whichever man whose turn it was?’ His voice stumbled on the words.
‘Yeah. No school. No hassle. Are you really giving me this flat?’ Her eyes were alight, she had told him she was worried what would happen after she heard Georgie had died.
‘I promise you this. And you’ll never have to have sex with anyone you don’t want to ever again. I’m a judge, Kylie. I don’t break my word.’ Inside his head he qualified the statement, I just lived a lie for most of my life.
Then thought, But not any more.
She clapped her hands and her cheeks shone at him, her smile radiant. He knew then, it was quite possibly the happiest moment of Kylie’s life.
Before he left, Sir Jeremy had one more thing to organise. First, he called Lady Green to tell her he would soon be home, then he arranged a mobile locksmith to come and change the locks and install extra security bolts on the door.
He did not want any more perverts in his – Kylie’s – apartment.
***
The warmth of the sun rippled over Kate’s body, the tiny blonde hairs on her milky skin responding to the delicate caress of the sea breeze.
She was lying by the pool, seven storeys up, on the roof of the hotel in which George Simm had met his violent end. The view was spectacular, but right now Kate was watching her brother’s antics in the pool.
He really is just a great big kid she, thought as he ran past her, gangly white stick legs pumping, arms flapping water droplets at her, giving her his most manic dimpled smile before he dive-bombed into the pool. The shower of water, like a miniature nuclear blast, drenched Kate’s legs and drew ‘tuts’ and grunts from her neighbouring sun worshippers.
Kate went to shout at him, then relaxed, watching him check out the damage he had caused before duck diving away. Let him enjoy himself, she thought, he deserves it.
The flight had been uneventful, especially for Kate, as she had slept through most of it, her hangover and lack of sleep catching up with her, while Johnny entertained himself with in-flight movies along with videos and games on the tablet. By the time they had landed Johnny claimed he was the champion of the universe, having slaughtered his way to a record score in his ongoing battle with invaders from alien worlds.
Kate felt travel weary but was looking forward to meeting Police Major General Lee. Charles Tandy’s secretary, Tina, had left a message, the meeting was arranged for after lunch today. They had checked into the hotel early that morning and she had decided to spend a few hours with Johnny. He had grabbed her hand on their arrival in the reception, his tone amazed as he said, ‘They’ve got a roof pool! Let’s go chill!’
Johnny’s excitement was infectious. He was already having a wonderful time. He shook more moisture on to Kate as
he towelled his head.
‘This place is awesome! D’you want a drink? Cocktail? The pool bar is open already.’
‘No thanks, Johnny.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I think I’ll steer clear of daytime drinking, especially in this heat, and I’m working don’t forget.’
He grinned back at her. ‘Yeah, but I’m not!’ He returned moments later with a huge glass that looked more like a fruit bowl filled with orange juice, with a gaudy umbrella dropped in and sugar frosting on the lip.
‘Sex on the Beach, oh yeah!’
He sat on the recliner next to Kate and tugged out the case holding the tablet they had purchased at the Bangkok airport duty free store. Johnny had been careful to stow it well away from any possibility of a self-initiated liquid nuclear strike.
Kate watched him caress it, like it was his lover.
He had already loaded the files from Kate’s iPad and was itching to test out his new baby. ‘Sis, d’you think Tandy’ll mind if I use their wi-fi for the internet?’
‘What, on expenses you mean?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re on holiday! Give it a rest! Enjoy.’
‘You’re right. Okay.’ He packed the machine away, glugged the remainder of his fruit bowl, stood for a moment, surveyed the audience, and dive-bombed her again.
Kate let her mind wander back to Mark, the handsome lawyer. She had dreamt of him while she slept on the flight and was almost embarrassed to recall the things they got up to in her dreams. She definitely wanted to see him again. She had never been with a dark-skinned guy before, wondered if what they said was true...
Enough! She could feel herself getting frisky and decided to sit up and do some preparatory work for her interview with the police chief. First, she picked up yesterday’s edition – her edition – of The Crusader. She could not believe how fast things had happened. God, is it really only two and a half days since George Simm died? The last sixty hours have been crazy, she thought, like time had telescoped for her.
‘Mind if I see that?’
A shadow appeared over the paper as she reread the article. She glanced up at the source of the smooth American voice. Her heart missed a beat as she took in details of the hunk smiling down at her.
‘Sorry to startle you, but I heard you talking to your boyfriend, recognised the accent of my fellow countrymen.’
He is gorgeous!
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ – the words rushed out – ‘he’s my brother.’ Get a grip Kate! ‘Where are you from? Take a seat. Join us!’
‘Thanks, I’ll join you for a while if I may. My name’s Doug Brown. I’m from all over, born in Florida though. A Miami boy.’ He held out a hand, and they shook in the ridiculous formal way people do when they introduce themselves after they have already been speaking.
Kate was glad her eyes were hidden behind mirrored lenses allowing them full access, to roam his body, unseen. ‘My name’s Kate O’Sullivan. Pleased to meet you.’ She meant it. ‘I’m – we’re from London-England,’ she ran the words together like Americans often do, unconsciously trying to emphasise just how much she really was like him, ‘but we grew up in Orlando. You here on vacation?’
‘Sort of. Just escaping real life for a couple of weeks. I’ve got some business to attend to, but I’m pretty relaxed.’
‘Hi. You pulled already, Kate?’
Oh Jesus! ‘Johnny,’ she thought it best to ignore the comment, play it cool. ‘This is Doug Brown. He’s from Miami.’
Despite the sun and sweltering temperature, Kate pulled the scrunchy from her hair, let the blonde tresses fall to her shoulders, then plucked off her glasses. By the time the other two had shaken hands and made a couple of comments about the Sunshine State she was ready. She shook her hair out and blasted Doug full on with smoking brown eyes. She was hot and knew it.
He smiled, but nothing more. Just asked to see the paper again.
Shit.
Then she realised the opportunity to impress him was there in her lap. If beauty doesn’t work let’s try brains, she decided.
‘Of course,’ she handed him the paper, ‘but it’s only an English national daily, and a day out of date. Old news I’m afraid.’
He opened up the paper and Kate heard him whistle a little as he read. ‘Wow, this guy really did kick up a storm. You know he died here on Monday night?’
Got him!
‘I should do. I wrote the article.’ It was only a slight exaggeration, after all.
Doug finally did look impressed, even took off his own glasses. Kate swam into his crystal blue eyes, was sure she was in love. Or in lust at any rate.
He checked the byline and asked, ‘So who’s Charles Tandy?’
‘My boss. Editor in Chief.’
Be impressed. Please.
Johnny, who had plopped himself down on the other side of Kate, pitched in. ‘Yeah, she walked into his office Tuesday night with the story. He offered her fifty thousand pounds – over seventy grand US – there and then. Sent us here on expenses. She’s one tough negotiator!’
Johnny please shut up!
Kate forced a smile at her brother trying to communicate telepathically. It did not work, as he blabbered on.
‘You been here long, Doug? I need some advice... Some particular advice, like man to man! Y’know?’
Doug was nodding, smiling from Johnny to Kate and back.
She wanted to stitch Johnny’s lips together as he went on.
‘I’d like to go to a club.’ His excitement was hitting fever pitch, he bounded up and pantomimed by the pool.
‘Johnny!’ Kate tried, but his enthusiasm and excitement thrust him well beyond hearing her.
‘Did you know they have girls who shoot ping-pong balls into glasses?’ He gyrated his hips towards his own empty cocktail, pointed at his crotch and went on, ‘Pow! Pow! Pow!’
She cringed. ‘I don’t think Doug – ’
‘Aw, come on Kate. You said I should go and that you might even come!’
Doug started chuckling.
Oh God.
Kate felt her skin turn pink from the shoulders up. ‘You’ll have to excuse my brother, he’s retarded. It’s his birthday tomorrow, you see, and he’s a little over-excited.’
She turned her face from Doug to Johnny as she spoke the last few words, gave her brother a very un-sisterly glare and mouthed ‘Shut up!’
He finally took the hint, sat down, fished out the computer and started working on defending Los Angeles from a horde of zombies.
Kate turned back to Doug, shrugged and smiled, wondering what the hell he must think. He had a really cute grin, she decided.
‘Actually Kate, I think I know the club. I’ve not been there. Maybe I could take Johnny there for you. I don’t suppose you’d really want to take him.’
‘No, thank you. I mean, no, I’m not interested in going – and thank you for offering to take my baby brother.’ She trailed off, trying to half excuse herself for his behaviour. The man was gracious.
‘No problem. I’m sure I’ll see you around.’
‘Maybe tonight? I think we’ll be dining here...’ Kate hesitated, hoping. Nothing. She continued, ‘Well, that is, unless we find somewhere better.’
I can play it cool too, you know.
‘I’m a little busy today, Kate. It’s actually a working vacation for me. Maybe I’ll catch up with you later.’ He leafed through the paper again before handing it back. ‘This CIA report is interesting. How did you come by that?’
‘It was on the internet.’ To Kate her lie sounded natural enough. ‘Johnny’s a bit of a whizz—kid,’ she could not help herself having another little dig, ‘and tracked it down before any of the other papers got hold of it.’ As she spoke, she mellowed a little. ‘It’s as much Johnny’s scoop as mine really.’
‘Great team, huh? So, you’re working here then? What, you expecting more murders?’ He laughed, a bitter sound that seemed out of place, almost forced. ‘You know, lightning never
strikes twice!’
‘No, I’m here to do some background on the police inquiry, write about the appalling child sex scene here. Not nice, but someone’s gotta do it!’
‘Well, I can see you’re working hard! I’ll leave you to it. I really do hope to see you later. I’m in room 605.’ Doug looked over at her brother as he stood. ‘And I meant what I said about Johnny. A night of Thai ping-pong! Hasta la vista, Kate.’ He nodded to her, put on his glasses and strolled into the hotel.
Kate turned on Johnny and he said, totally innocent, arms spread, ‘What did I do?’
***
In the hotel lobby below, six young men checked in, all in their prime, giving off the air of professional sportsmen. The gruesome death on Monday had emptied half the hotel and most of the bookings were cancelled as people preferred a venue more in keeping with a holiday atmosphere.
These gentlemen, eyes roving the lobby, their feet restless, were not on vacation. They were on a mission.
The day before, shortly after losing most of his buttocks in a presidential ass-chewing session, the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency took personal control of the George Simm scandal. Meanwhile, Teague was to focus his attention on catching the computer hacker who started the whole mess, by whatever means.
The Agency had recalled the liaison officer whose report triggered the fiasco. The man’s career was over.
In his place were the six agents from postings in other parts of Asia who had been briefed by Jack Regan himself. He had told them in a videoconference to the embassy that morning:
‘The reputation of the CIA is at stake. That in itself is bad enough, gentlemen. But more important is the credibility of the office of the President himself.’
The Director knew he was on thin ice here. The CIA is specifically targeted at national threats from outside the borders of the United States. It is not an international police force and George Simm’s activities in no way threatened the Nation State. However, the President, like many other great statesmen before him, confused threats to his credibility, his vote-ability, with threats to the State. Hence he believed he could legitimately use his intelligence agency to remove that threat.
‘We have just over two days to deliver proof that a man we believe to be a paedophile did the things he stands accused of. I think everyone in the Agency knows the details of this case. But just to be sure, I’ve arranged for each of you to receive a copy of everything we have. It’s not much, gentlemen.
The Hack Page 14
