“But she could be charged with murder in the first degree.”
I shrugged. “If she’s innocent, she probably figures you’ll find the person who really did it.” I looked sheepishly from one to the other. “Guys, I do have a reputation to protect. Does any of this have to come out?”
There was a moment of silence. Then Sleepy-eyes said:
“If it comes to trial, you’ll be required to give evidence. Right now I can’t say if it will go that far. Okay, Colonel. Thanks for coming in.”
I got up. They didn’t move.
“If you need me, you know where to get hold of me.”
“Yeah, we know.”
*
Of course they’d interview Chrissie all over again. It was useful that I’d visited her in prison first and dropped a few salient points into the conversation. She was a bright girl. She caught on right away.
34
A couple of days after her release I paid Chrissie another visit at her house in Queens. This time I phoned in advance. I knew what I was doing. If she did work for the Russians it would give her plenty of time to alert her minders and I could be walking straight into a trap. Only something told me she didn’t work for the Russians and I was prepared to take the chance.
She seemed relaxed as she opened the door and led me through to that high-key front room of hers, indicated an armchair, and said she’d just be a moment or two. A few minutes went by and then she came back. She was wearing a pink silk kimono robe, tied loosely at the waist. The way her breasts moved inside it said a lot about what she wasn’t wearing underneath.
She paused right in front of me, posing like a model at the end of a catwalk – weight on one bare foot, the other turned slightly outwards. The robe clung to her hip and gapped enough to offer a tantalising glimpse of pale thigh. She looked down at me, her fingers toying with the end of the tie.
“I wouldn’t want to seem like I was ungrateful, General,” she said softly.
Her scent rose into my head and I could almost feel the heat of her. My breathing quickened and blood surged in my loins. I could picture her drawing gently on that tie, the bow slowly unravelling, the robe falling away to reveal that lithe, sensual body…
The sequence of images came to an abrupt halt. In their place was Abby, her lovely eyes glazing as she died in my arms. My voice emerged in a growl.
“I didn’t get you out of prison for that.”
She didn’t move, just turned her head slightly, viewing me askance.
“But you lied to get me out! Why? Because I didn’t kill Mark?”
“Oh, you killed him, all right.”
Her mouth slackened and she took a faltering step backwards. “You knew?”
“Yes, but I need the rest of the story. Chrissie, there’s more at stake here than Mark Ridout’s murder, much more. You know things that can make a difference. That’s why I got you out. Let’s start with that poison you used on him. It was something special. Who gave it to you?”
She lifted her chin and gave me an imperious look. “And if I won’t tell you?”
“I’ll send you back to prison. I’ll tell them I made a mistake.”
She uttered a short laugh. “You’d be done for perjury!”
“I don’t think so. You see, I’m watching holovision when you knock on the door. I only came back from India a few days ago, and I’m still a bit time-shifted. At the time I think it’s thetwelve o’clock newscast, but I realisenow it must have been thetwo o’clock one.”
She looked steadily at me.
“I’m not joking, Chrissie, that’s all I have to say. It means you had more than enough time to knock off Ridout and come to my room afterwards. Your alibi’s gone – like that!” I raised my hand and flicked finger and thumb. “They’ll pull you in again so fast your feet won’t touch the ground.”
She sat down abruptly, perching on the front edge of the armchair, head down, hands clasped between her knees. She whimpered.
“I don’t want to go back there.”
“Then tell me about the poison.”
She looked up. Her composure had fled.
“I didn’t know it would kill him. Honest. George said it would—”
“George?”
She frowned. “Yes. What I told you about George and me falling out? – well, it wasn’t quite that way. Actually it was his idea to introduce me to Mark, not mine. He said Mark was in a better position to help me with the charity. George and I stayed… friends.”
“You were seeing them both?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t hard. Mark was busy a lot of the time, so I could spend nights with George. He didn’t mind sharing me.”
“Because he was planning to use you.”
Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, well I know that now but I didn’t see it then, did I? George always seemed harmless. He was kind: he didn’t make unreasonable demands, he bought me things, took me to some good places. I was surprised when he showed up in Atlanta, though. He got me on my own and said he needed to speak to me urgently. So I went to his room after the party.”
She hesitated, biting her lip.
“And?”
“Oh, he goes on about the company, how it’s been in his family for years, and how it’s going to the dogs and he’s the only one who really cares – that kind of thing. Then he says there’s a great opportunity coming up, and they’re meeting on Monday to discuss it. Mark’s sure to throw it out and as usual the rest of the Board will be far too scared to go up against him. He says, ‘It’s so important, Chrissie. Will you help me?’ And I shrug and say, ‘What can I do about it? Mark never listens to me.’ And he says, ‘You’ll be seeing him tonight, won’t you?’ And I say, ‘Yes.’ So then he goes over to a drawer and comes back with this little packet, the clear sort, with some white stuff in it.”
Her voice faltered. She closed her eyes and swallowed.
I prompted her gently. “And you think it’s what?”
“Well, it looks to me like coke or crystal. I’m thinking he wants me to get Mark hooked! So I say, ‘George, you know me, I don’t use.’ He says it’s nothing like that, just a powder to put in Mark’s drink. So I say, ‘What does it do?’ and he says, ‘It’s a little practical joke. This stuff will give him the traveller’s complaint – you know, the runs.’ Then he grins at me and says the guy won’t be able to leave the toilet for the next two days. He’ll miss his flight and the meeting.”
She hung her head. “We laughed a lot. It seemed funny at the time. I had this picture in my head of the all-powerful Mark Ridout sitting on the can for two days. But also I was kind of relieved George wasn’t asking me to do drugs or something like that. So I fell for it.”
She was quiet for a while. I waited patiently and soon she looked up at me.
“I guess it was some sort of poison, wasn’t it?”
“Tell me what happened.”
She heaved a sigh.
“Mark brought the champagne into the bedroom. Then he took his clothes off and got into bed to wait for me. He liked to watch me undress. I turned my back while I was doing it and dropped the stuff into his glass. I gave it a swirl but it disappeared right away. Then I knelt on the edge of the bed and handed it to him while I took a sip from mine. He drained the glass, put it down and reached for me. Then suddenly his eyes opened wide and he made an awful noise and started to buck and thrash and jerk around. For a moment I just froze – I didn’t know what to do. Then I realised I had to get out of there fast. I dressed quickly, washed my hands and cleaned the glasses – like George told me to – and beat it.”
“He was still alive when you left?”
“I think so.” Her jaw started to quiver and she cupped her hands around her nose and mouth. “I don’t know. It was horrible. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again.”
I let her sob quietly for a bit, then I dipped my hand into a pocket, found a clean tissue, and reached it across. She took it and blew her nose.
“What happened after tha
t?” I prompted.
She raised her head. Her eye make-up had run, giving her a smudged, faintly comic look. The kimono was gaping but it wasn’t hard to avert my eyes. She wasn’t a sex symbol any longer.
She went on, still wiping her nose, muffling the words.
“Next morning I saw all these cops around and I guessed what had happened. I was so frightened. I cleared out as fast as I could.” She looked at me appealingly. “I’d never have done it if I’d known. Mark could be a rat at times but mostly we got on great. I wouldn’t have killed him for the world. I wouldn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t.”
“Did you say anything to the Feds about George giving you the poison?”
“’Course not, I gave them the story I gave you last time.”
“I said you should tell them the truth. Why didn’t you?”
“There was no point, it would just have made things worse. Can you imagine what George would have said? ‘The young lady must be imagining things. I only spoke to her for a few minutes during the party.’” It was a creditable imitation of George’s high, New England accent. She sniffed derisively. “George is a pillar of society and I’m just a little tramp, so who are they going to believe?”
She was right, of course; they wouldn’t have listened to her. All right, maybe she was a little tramp, but so what? Nobody had the right to use her that way. I’d actually felt sorry for George when David died. When I learned about his involvement with Chrissie my sympathy evaporated. Now all I could feel for him was contempt. To solve his personal financial problems he was ready to sell Cuprex to the Vlasovs. He’d got Chrissie to remove the one remaining obstacle and he was quite prepared to let her take the fall for it.
She was lucky I’d intervened. Abby had been less fortunate. It dawned on me that it wasn’t just the Cuprex deal George was protecting when he told the Vlasovs she was on their trail; he was covering himself. If the Russians were brought to trial and started to give evidence his own role in Ridout’s murder could come out. Abby was a threat to him personally. So now she was dead.
I had to clench my fists to fight down the anger. I swallowed hard and turned my attention back to Chrissie.
“The Feds must have picked you up soon after I came here.”
“Yeah, next day. They said they were taking me in for questioning. Questioning! They grilled me solidly for three days. They wanted to know why I left the hotel in such a hurry. I said I had things to do. I thought it was okay to leave. No one told me there was foul play. All I heard was, it was death from natural causes. And I stuck to what I said about Mark arranging a business meeting when I was all hot, and how I stormed out. They didn’t buy it. They kept asking me what I’d put in his glass and where I’d got it. Of course, I said I didn’t know what they were talking about; Mark had poured the drinks in the living room and the tray was still there when I left.” She buried her face in her hands. “I knew I was in big trouble, General. They execute people in that State. Oh, God! They cut them up and take out all the organs – use them as donors. How do you think that feels?”
I knew much better than she could possibly have imagined.
She got up without looking at me and dropped into my lap, her hands against my chest. She was trembling all over. I put my arms around her, feeling her warmth through the thin silk, the bony prominences of her scapulae. She seemed small; small and vulnerable. I patted her gently.
“It’s okay, Chrissie, it’s okay. You were in above your head, that’s all. You’ll be all right now. We’ve left the Feds wondering who the hell Mark had that business meeting with.”
She raised her tear-stained face and kissed me on the cheek.
“You’re such a good man, General. I never knew any man could be as good as you.”
“Don’t worry, Chris. Someone set you up, and they’re going to get what’s coming to them.”
Her eyes widened. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
“As careful as I can be. Look, I’d better go.”
She got off my lap and gathered the kimono around her. I stood and we went to the front door together.
I said, “Take care now. And Chrissie?”
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should think about a change of job.”
She stared at me with big, uncomprehending eyes, and I knew she never would.
*
I was clear-headed as I left Queens for the airport and the flight back. I had the whole picture now, but it wouldn’t make any difference. The brothers Leon and Gerasim Vlasov and their willing associate George van der Loos would never face justice in the normal way; they were too well connected, and the political stakes were too high. Harken probably wanted to mount an operation almost as much as I did, but the consequences would have been disastrous – for us, for Bob Cressington, and for the future of the SAF. But that didn’t mean those bastards wouldn’t get their just deserts. It had be done covertly, that’s all. It had to be subtle, and it had to involve me alone.
I was fuelled now by an ice-cold anger that drove me on, yet left me with the clear head and single-mindedness I was going to need. I’d had the idea a while back, and the plan was already taking shape in my mind. All I was waiting for was the call from Keller.
Then it would be game on.
PART FOUR
35
Max phoned me a couple of days later.
“Things are on the move, Jim. George is planning a meet with Leon Vlasov – end of this week. Says he wants me and the boys to go with.”
I felt a surge, a feeling I always got with the prospect of imminent action. “Did you ask him about the setup?”
“Yeah. I told him I need to know everyone’s movements so we can mount proper security. Well, it’s true enough. He gave me quite a rundown. Seems like he’s met up with this guy before.”
You bet he has!
“Vlasov flies around in a Quickstream Majestic. It’s a travelling office. He conducts all his business on board. I guess he’s afraid of being bugged. The guy’s pretty paranoid.”
I frowned. This didn’t fit with the news item I’d seen in Indonesia.
“Are you sure of that, Max? Only I saw a press photo of him with the Indonesian Minister of Trade. They were about to conduct some sort of negotiations there.”
“Yeah, that’s the pattern. He gets off the plane, greets whoever’s come to meet him, then he takes them back on board and that’s where the real business gets done. He’ll have his advisers with him and maybe the other side’ll have theirs. No one else.”
That made sense. “Did George mention Vlasov’s brother Gerasim?”
“No. You think he’s going to be in on this?”
“Let’s say I wouldn’t be struck dumb with surprise.”
He uttered a low whistle. “He’ll probably bring some of his heavyweights. I’ll tell my people to be extra careful.”
I thought for a moment. It was a sizeable entourage and I’d be working on my own.
“Okay, so where’s this meeting going to be?”
“Colombia.”
“Colombia?”
“Yeah. Cuprex has a large mine there. Vlasov wants to inspect it. Maybe it’s something to do with an improved offer.”
“They’re meeting at the mine?”
“No, at an airfield close by. George won’t want to be seen with him – from what I hear, he’s not supposed to be opening negotiations yet. He told me he’ll just fly in and wait for the man at the terminal. Then they’ll go on board to discuss the deal.”
My mind was racing now. I was careful not to let it show in my voice. “Okay, good.”
“I’ll have some more later. I asked George for the whole schedule.”
“Including the location?”
“Sure, that included. I’ll call you.”
“Thanks a lot, Max.”
“No problem.”
I clicked off the phone and straightened up.
Now I knew exactly what I had to do. And it would start with Quicks
tream, makers of the Majestic 100.
*
The Quickstream Majestic 100 is a hydrogen-fuelled jet with four vectored engines. This makes it unusually versatile for a large airliner because it’s not restricted to long runways. No doubt that was a factor when the Vlasovs chose it as their travelling office. But this also made it potentially useful as a troop carrier. I put the suggestion to Quickstream’s Sales Manager and he was more than willing to discuss the possibilities with a Colonel in Special Forces. We arranged to meet a couple of days later at the Canadian assembly plant.
When I arrived we chatted over coffee for a while, and then he gave me a hard hat and hi-vis vest and we went on a guided tour of the plant. There were six aircraft under construction. We paused under a wing which had been left with one engine nacelle completed and another half finished. On the ground near our feet was a stack of boxes, the compartments filled with small parts. He gave me some figures for short take-offs and landings. I pointed to the unfinished nacelle and the overlapping series of baffles that redirected the efflux.
“They tell me these things have a reputation for falling apart.”
He laughed. “It’s not quite as bad as that! The vectoring system’s never failed in flight but we had a couple of reports of incidents on the ground. We’ve redesigned it now.”
“What about the ones still in service?”
“Oh, we’re working through them with the mods. Like I say, it’s not an urgent safety issue. These things will fly and land happily on two engines anyway. They have to.”
He walked on. I bent my knees to dip my hand into a box, came up with a bolt, and slipped it into my pocket. I had an idea it could come in handy.
We went inside a completed, but unlined, fuselage and discussed the changes they’d need to make to get about eighty personnel on board.
“What about toilet provision?” I asked.
Counterfeit (The Jim Slater series Book 2) Page 23
