Assassin Flame

by Tomson Cobb

  ‘Would you like to come up to my room for a coffee?’ She knew that an invitation like that from a woman with her looks would be accepted by anyone. She was correct in her assumption.

  ‘How could I refuse?’ If he was surprised, Bryan wasn’t about to show it. The background information she’d received about him was correct.

  ‘My room is on the third floor. Shall we go now?’ she said, with just the right amount of seductive promise mixed with impatience.

  ‘Of course. I’ll just get the cheque.’ She watched him rise from his chair and approach the reception desk to pay with a card he produced with ease from his back pocket. He was an accomplished philanderer for sure. She could see that from the smooth, easy way he’d responded to her sudden offer without any sign of surprise or shock. She decided that she would enjoy the next couple of hours more than usual.

  The elevator doors were just about to close when an old couple joined them. He wore a dinner jacket, while his wife looked uncomfortable in what might have been the one dress she still had for special occasions, within it a figure which had long since lost its battle with age.

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad we left when we did,’ the woman said to her partner. ‘I couldn’t have taken another dreary speech from any of that family.’

  ‘Sshh my dear. We don’t want to spoil this young couple’s evening as well do we?’ the man said as they both looked across at Anna and her new close friend. She hoped that Bryan wouldn’t respond to the talkative couple, so she was happy to see his gaze remained focused straight ahead at the screen that indicated which floor had been reached. It was clear he was preoccupied with other matters.

  The doors opened at the third floor. The problem was that the other occupants stepped out ahead of them. Anna and her client had to follow them slowly down the narrow corridor until they reached the room next to the one she’d borrowed. It was an unexpected problem she hadn’t planned for. She slid the pass card into the lock then opened the door. Bryan walked past her into the room and threw his pullover onto one of the chair backs. As she was about to close the door, she heard the woman whisper to her husband, ‘That’s not the girl we saw earlier.’ That was unfortunate, but the problem it posed could wait.

  She turned, just as he approached to pull her to him. He kissed her hard, then his hands started to roam across the back of her dress to search for the zip. She pushed him away, one palm on his chest.

  ‘Wait. Let me do this.’ She reached up to his chin and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him gently then stepped back, her fingers dropping below his waist to explore. She found him hard and ready. She unlocked the belt around his chinos, pulled the zip down then helped the trousers fall away to his feet. He’d already kicked off his loafers when she noticed he wore no socks. Very contemporary. She moved behind him and pulled his boxers down. She left her grip coiled around him as he tore his own shirt over his head, threw it towards the discarded pullover and turned towards her.

  She raised a finger to slow him as she slipped the straps off her shoulders and pulled the tight dress down until it fell to her feet. She kept her finger raised as she watched his involuntary reaction to her naked body. It produced the usual response. She kept him at bay with her upraised hand until she fell back onto the bed to make him even more excited. Finally, after a short pause while she rolled over on the bed, she ended his frustration and beckoned him with her forefinger as she opened her legs.

  ‘Now you can come in here, big boy.’ Anna was in control, as always. She pulled him into her embrace with a smile of satisfaction.

  ‘Hurt me, Tom. Don’t hold back. I don’t have a lot of time,’ she said with unusual honesty. It was all the encouragement that he needed, as it swiftly became clear to her that his self-control had almost reached its limit.

  A little while later she propped herself onto an elbow alongside Bryan. They had each wasted no time on the normal preliminaries as the preference for both was hard, fast sex, each for different reasons. She would in fact have preferred to continue the exertions for longer, but knew the situation on this occasion would have to limit her own enjoyment.

  ‘Wow, Tom. You’re a real tiger. Who would have known?’ she pretended. ‘Would you like a glass of champagne before we try something new next time? I had a bottle ready for when my husband and I returned from dinner so it would be such a shame to waste it. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘I do. Here, let me open it.’ He stepped out from the bed, took the corkscrew, and with a skill honed from what she knew must be an often practised procedure, pulled the cork from the bottle with a smug grin. He poured the two glasses, presciently provided by the management for such celebratory use by those residents who may not have been joined in matrimony, at least to the partner they shared the bottle with, she guessed.

  ‘That was marvellous, Tom. You have a technique all of your own. Where did you learn that skill I wonder?’ She knew the man’s ego knew no bounds, so when he answered it was to be expected that he would want to expound on his proud knowledge of the other sex. Which was exactly what she wanted.

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it, Anna. I always say that a selfish orgasm that leaves the other unsatisfied is a waste of time for both, in a literal sense of course,’ he said with what could only be described as a smirk.

  Anna watched Bryan drain the first glass of champagne in one gulp before he refilled it again. She had taken her own glass to her mouth but was careful not to allow any of the liquid to pass her lips. The complex drug she’d injected into the bottle before she’d arrived at the hotel would have a swift effect, which was essential if she was to complete the contract before the woman who’d booked the room returned.

  ‘I agree, Tom. You’re so right. In this circumstance, if a woman like me can’t share in the fun as well, what’s the point of it?’ She watched as his eyes started to close. As he fell back against the pillow, she deftly caught the glass before it spilled its contents onto the sheet.

  An hour later, Anna-for-a-day was fully engaged in the process of a close inspection of the room. She had already showered, dressed in the change of clothes she’d brought with her, then cleaned every item in the room for fingerprints, with an attention for detail that the best hotel housekeeper would marvel at. The latex gloves, together with the bottle of special spray she’d left in the room earlier, would eliminate all evidence of her presence, although that still didn’t allow for any possibility of complacency.

  She emptied his pockets, took the mix of credit cards and cash, then deposited them together with his iPhone into the collapsible shoulder bag that she’d brought with her for just this purpose. She added the blond wig, the digital recorder and her borrowed clothes. As a fellow female with an appreciation of style, she felt a tang of guilt for her innocent partner. When she returned to the room her favourite LBD would have gone. She would never wear the dress again, yet she couldn’t leave any of her own DNA in the room.

  She rearranged the body on the bed into the contorted position she’d decided on the day before. Bryan had given her all the information that her customer had requested, which she’d recorded on the dictation machine he had also provided for her. The impression would be that he’d suffered a sudden heart attack while on a risky assignation with a high-class hooker who had borrowed the room after the occupant had left. Bryan must have known the hotel’s reputation for confidentiality. It had just one camera at the main door with none in the public areas. She was confident her entry through the staff entrance while the security man was distracted by a beggar could be replicated when she left. The homeless woman had not been hard to persuade. Fifty pounds with the added gift of a cheap phone was all that had been needed. The phone would be used when she called her again to order her to distract the security man one more time for the other hundred pounds.

  Anastasia cleaned the old make-up off first. She wiped away the mascara and skin lotion with tissues from the bathroom before she placed each soiled square into a plain, dark green carrier bag emb
lazoned with the Harrods logo. One of the more tasteful ones would have been her preference, but for this situation she didn’t want to be remembered by the use of a more individual design. The application of the new materials took fourteen minutes. A time she rarely deviated from whenever she was engaged in each contract. Practice made perfect in each detail, her father had always said. Time, after all, was crucial in the detailed preparation she employed for the eradication of each individual client.

  The blond wig and gold-rimmed spectacles she placed at the top of the bag, covered by a silk scarf. The result was that her dark black hair, now unpinned, once again fell free to her shoulders.

  All had gone to plan, except for one unfortunate complication that she would now have to attend to. She screwed the silencer into the Smith and Wesson M&P 22 Compact, checked the corridor, closed the room door, then approached the one adjacent and knocked quietly.

  ‘Room service,’ she called out.

  Chapter 6

  ‘To what do I owe the pleasure, Frank?’

  ‘Jago. Tom Bryan’s been murdered.’

  ‘Murdered? What do you mean? Sorry, I’ll let you in first.’ Jago pressed the remote button that allowed his father-in-law into the yard of the house from the mews where he stood in front of the CCTV camera.

  Sir Frank Thompson was clearly unsettled as he brushed past Jago. He even ignored the dog’s welcome as she looked up at him in the hallway.

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have ignored the report. Damn it. It’s my fault again. Jago, I must have lost my grip. What the hell did I do that for?’ Thompson strode up and down the hall, head down as if the answer to his dilemma lay in the carpet below him, his hand massaging the back of his neck as if it had an infectious disease. He was talking more to himself than to his son-in-law.

  ‘Frank. Take it easy. Go sit down in the lounge while I get you a large Scotch.’

  ‘That would be much appreciated, Jago. Make it larger than that would you?’

  The dog was sat in front of the older man by the time Jago returned. He’d brought glasses that held two generous measures of the single malt that his father-in-law had, in actual fact, given to him on his own birthday a few years before.

  ‘For God’s sake what happened, Frank?’

  ‘Tom Bryan was murdered three nights ago at a hotel in Mayfair. You met him at Cheltenham Races when we first met. It was after Sammy provided the idea of how to introduce you to our little team. You do remember him, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. I haven’t seen him since that day. You told me that as well as being CEO of the publishing company, he also ran the covert side of CUP with Frankie, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. He was a good man. Top class manager, very competent agent controller as well. Problem was he had a weakness for women. Damn and blast it. Why didn’t I do something about it?’ Thompson said with a shout, as if he was still in the army castigating a junior officer.

  ‘Frank. Calm down. I don’t know what you’re on about. Start at the beginning, for God’s sake. What’s happened?’

  ‘Sorry Jago. I don’t know what this all means either, except that it’s a serious problem for us at CUP.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Tom wasn’t a military man like Hugh. He came highly recommended by… well, I’d better keep that confidential for now. Anyway, before he joined Chiltern University Press, he’d worked for HMG as an embassy trade attaché in various hellholes around the globe. Did a good job for UK exporters. Also provided top class intelligence from local undercover agents on the side. Bloody brave sort as well. He risked his life on several occasions, the Defence Secretary told me at the time.’

  ‘So you took him on when you started CUP?’

  ‘Not at that point. When we bought the business, Hugh and I built the original team first. We kept on most of the old publishing and sales people from the previous owners, then brought in others when we needed to as we grew it. They didn’t know about our other operations of course. They still don’t.’

  ‘So he joined before Frankie?’ Jago said. His mind was full of possible coincidences.

  ‘Yes. Why do you think that’s relevant?’

  ‘It may not be. But go on, Frank. When did you start to have doubts about his morals?’

  ‘Our office party last year. We held it at a stately home a few miles out of town. His wife Janet got very drunk. He was in conversation with one of our sales managers at the bar. Pretty girl she was. Janet saw him and pulled him away. They had a big row in the garden where she started shouting at him, called him a sex maniac, amongst other more unrepeatable phrases. I was with Hugh near the lake, some distance away from them, so we couldn’t help hear it all.’

  ‘Did he see you two?’

  ‘Not at first. When he did, we had to go up to them. We couldn’t let the ruckus continue. She was hysterical but when she saw us arrive, she calmed down… then just burst into tears. He apologised and took her home without any more explanation. It was lucky that nobody else was outside to see it all, just Hugh and myself.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Jago was now in full journalistic mode. If this had been anywhere else, he would have taken out his notebook in preparation for a future exclusive on a cheating businessman in a FTSE 250 company. This might be far more serious.

  ‘Tom rang me the next day before breakfast. Said he’d be a bit late in as he had to take the kids to school because Janet had been ill through the night. He came into my office around lunchtime to apologise again. Said she was on medication for depression, ran in her family he said.’

  ‘Was that true?’

  ‘Of course not. We’d had them both vetted before he joined the business three years before. She was sound as a pound. She’d met him first when he was stationed in our embassy in Washington. She worked there as well, they fell for each other, got married within weeks. When he got posted to Seoul she went with him. Had two kids born there, then when he joined CUP they moved back here.’ Thompson took a sip of the whisky and ruffled the head of the dog, who had sat still in front of him throughout the old man’s discourse as would a student at a lecture given by a respected professor.

  ‘Did you have someone take another look at them after the bust-up? The risk of someone like him running your covert side of the operation as well as the public one must have set off alarms, surely?’

  ‘Yes. We had to. The crowd that Charles suggested came up with no facts we didn’t already know. I wasn’t altogether happy, so I took on a private investigator myself. I’d used her on occasion for various checks on staff. She reported that he had a weakness for married women. Very accomplished pick-up merchant, she told me.’

  ‘She?’ Jago looked surprised.

  ‘Some of the best PIs are women, Jago. I’m surprised in your line of work that you don’t know that. Anyway, she followed him over several weekends. At the end of the work day here, sometimes, instead of going home to Janet and the kids, he would drive to London. Had a little pied-à-terre just off Marylebone High Street that he used when he had business in town.’

  ‘Yet you knew sod all about his hobby before the investigator told you?’

  ‘I had suspicions. He always had an eye for any new attractive girls that started to work for us but he was a handsome man, so I put it down to them being attracted to the boss rather than the other way around. Stupid of me. Not at all responsible in this age of sexual manipulation, I know, but he was a damned good CEO.’

  ‘Frank. Why didn’t you ask Five to check him out after you got the report from the PI? Or did you?’

  ‘No. I should have done of course. As I said, I’ve become too old for this job. I’m a dinosaur. Far too concerned with the big picture, so maybe I looked the other way when I shouldn’t have. I realise that now except it’s too late, don’t you see?’

  ‘I see the implications, of course. So what happened yesterday?’

  ‘Housekeeper found the body. Police reckoned he was there with a hooker as he’d been seen in the b
ar with her.’

  ‘By your explanation so far you already know he wasn’t?’ Jago said.

  ‘Him with a doxy? Don’t be ridiculous. With his good looks he wouldn’t need to pay for sex. Turned out he’d been on the prowl in the bar for a woman to practise his skills on when one appeared from a lift. Looked for all the world like she was booked into the hotel. Quite a looker it seems from the witnesses that saw her. Blonde, very attractive. They all mentioned her eyes for some reason. Anyway, several people saw them leave the bar and head back to the lifts.’

  ‘What did the police find when they got there?’ Jago had already painted a mental picture of the scene the night before.

  ‘His body, naked on the bed. Looked like he’d ended his days in considerable pain. Police medic reckoned he’d had a heart attack which didn’t wash with me, so I made some calls on the quiet. Talked to my direct connection in SIS and they sent me the report in confidence. Traces of alcohol in him of course. Their forensics people took over the investigation from the police and found no sign of the woman’s body fluids. The room had been well cleaned before they got there, they reckon.’

  ‘Very professional to leave no traces at all, I would say. So no DNA on him?’

  ‘Not even a suggestion. His body had been cleaned as well. They don’t know what with but even his dick had been washed with some sort of chemical they haven’t come across before. Five’s medical department have taken the body for further analysis of course, although so far they haven’t found any chemical they recognise.’

  ‘So perhaps it’s just coincidence, the woman was just a hooker, they didn’t have time to consummate the trick as he had a heart attack as the police said?’

  ‘That could be possible, apart from the fact that he didn’t have a room booked there and neither did the woman that left the bar with him. They found him in someone else’s room. The woman who booked it is from Hampshire, there for a conference. She’d gone to the theatre with a boyfriend and when she got back, she found the police crawling all over the hotel. One of her dresses was gone from the wardrobe as well.’