by SL Beaumont
“We pinged the GPS tracker on Adam’s phone when he didn’t check in and saw that the location was near the old airstrip, so we knew that you were in the area. The team had just located the discarded mobile when you called. Even though you were cut off, we were able to trace the number to a landline at South Hill Manor before you called again.”
“Ah, so that’s why you got there so quickly,” she said.
“Did you find the airplane?” Adam asked.
Wilson nodded. “Yes, that tracker you planted was very effective. They moved it to a disused airfield at Wisley, where we found two more aircraft of interest.”
“What about the vehicles that had already left by the time you got there?”
“One four-wheel drive was picked up exiting the forest about four miles from the property, loaded with equipment and heroin, and another two vehicles were apprehended in the woods. We believe that a further two left before we got there, but we have leads on those as we speak.”
“Were you already investigating Donny?” Kat asked. “Is that what Jake was looking into?”
“Not Webster specifically, but there were suspicions from our personnel in Kabul that not all of the opium production in the Helmand province had been halted. A local informant suggested that someone in the British Army had a deal going with a local tribe to export opium to Europe and then Britain, but he was killed before we could get further information.”
Kat nodded. “So, Jake was gathering intel.”
“Jake had a role with the deployment force, which meant he regularly travelled back and forwards, so he was well placed to do some undercover work for me.”
Wilson’s adjutant walked into the room and bent his head to speak quietly to Wilson, who nodded.
“Hugo has arrived,” he said.
Kat frowned. “Hugo, as in…”
“As in me,” DI Greenwood strode into the room. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at them. He was dressed more casually than Kat had ever seen him in jeans and a jumper pulled across his portly midriff.
Adam jumped up to greet him. Greenwood shook everyone’s hands.
“Well, you two have had an eventful weekend,” he said, looking from Kat to Adam.
“Yeah, I’m about ready to sleep for several days to catch up,” Kat said.
“We’ll get someone to drive you home soon, but there are a couple of things that you might like to know first,” Greenwood said, pulling up a chair to join their semi-circle in front of Wilson’s desk.
Kat looked at him with interest.
“Mary McFarlane is coming down from her high and is talking freely,” he said.
“But will any of that be admissible if she’s stoned?” Kat asked.
“Probably not, but it’s giving us useful leads,” Greenwood said. “Huntly-Tait has lawyered up, but is co-operating.”
“What about Webster?” Adam asked.
“Nothing at all from him, at this stage,” Greenwood said.
“If you could arrange for me to have a few minutes with him, I’ll get something out of him,” Adam growled.
“Doesn’t work that way, as well you know,” Greenwood said.
“More’s the pity,” Adam said.
“Anyway, it appears that the clients of this operation are mostly very well-heeled. This is a high-end gig, with rich clientele.”
“Such as Mary McFarlane.”
“Yeah, it turns out she was an excellent customer, with a massive habit, but more crucially, she had the means to launder the proceeds. Along with a very wealthy client list who enjoy dabbling.”
“But we didn’t find anything unusual in her personal finances that would hint to either a big drug habit or laundering drug proceeds,” Kat said.
“But you did find Fund 4,” Greenwood said with a smile.
“Fund 4 is tied up with this?”
“Almost certainly. We think that clients paid for their drugs by purchasing units in the Fund. Those proceeds then paid for the next shipments.”
“Hang on,” Kat said. “You’re saying that my father buys drugs from Donny and pays for them by purchasing units in a Ponzi scheme? That’s ridiculous. Have you met my father?”
“I’m not saying that,” Greenwood said. “The initial investors, such as your father, thought they were investing in one of CIP’s legitimate funds. But instead, they provided the seed capital for this venture. Nathan has been tracing individual transactions through the scheme. It appears that it is now self-funding. So, whichever CIP partners were involved were starting to move those initial investors out of Fund 4 and into one of the firm’s ordinary funds. Nathan and the team have traced money being deposited by individuals who appear to be paying for their drug habits by buying units in what amounts to a fictitious fund. He’s also tracked payments made to an offshore bank account. The funds are almost immediately transferred to another jurisdiction and then disappear.”
Greenwood fell silent and looked at his hands. The atmosphere in the room had changed.
“What are you not telling me?” Kat said, staring at him.
“There was a fire at your offices early this evening. Deliberately set while Nathan was working.”
Kat clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Is he…”
“He’s in hospital under observation. He jumped from the fire escape; he has a broken arm and some smoke inhalation; he was fortunate, as was the weekend security guard who was knocked unconscious by the arsonists.”
“I need to see Nate,” Kat said, leaping to her feet. “Can I go now?”
“It’s the middle of the night, Kat. The hospital won’t welcome you storming in at this hour. You can see him tomorrow,” Adam said.
Kat looked out of the window and sat down again. “I don’t know what time of day or night it is.”
“That’s understandable, you’ve had a full couple of days,” Greenwood agreed. “Don’t worry about Nathan, he’s going to be fine.”
“What about Henry Smyth, was he involved?” she asked.
“It doesn’t appear so. Mary told us that he didn’t touch the stuff. It seems that he may have uncovered Fund 4 and threatened to go to the authorities. He was attempting to go into hiding when someone got to him, and he was killed.”
“That’s what he meant in the note to his parents that he had to leave,” Kat said. “That’s so sad.”
“I will visit Smyth’s parents tomorrow and update them before this all hits the papers,” Adam said.
“That would be good,” Greenwood said.
“Roger Chen must have been in on it all,” Adam said. “Otherwise, why throw himself off a bridge?”
“Yes, I believe he was the one running the financial side of the operation. His digital signature is all over the transactions,” Greenwood said.
“What about Eddie Doors?” Kat asked.
“Eduardo Diaz?”
Kat nodded as Wilson chuckled.
“Mary McFarlane is trying to paint him as the drug dealer, but I’m not sure. We’ll need to substantiate that some other way,” Greenwood said. “He appears to be the brains behind their trading strategies and wasn't involved in the client side of the business.”
“That makes sense,” Adam said. “He isn’t the most personable of characters.”
Kat yawned and raised her hand to cover her mouth.
“Your prosthesis was broken tonight,” Wilson said.
Kat nodded and held out her hand to him. Deep grooves showed across the back of her fingers. “It was dented last night actually at my brother’s house. It’s a pity as my good one was damaged a few days earlier, but I should get it back this week.”
“You’ll definitely need to get that one looked at,” Adam said. “It looks like you chipped the nail varnish.”
Kat grinned at him. “Another first world problem that I can’t seem to escape,” she said.
“Despite the damage, your hand has got good functionality,” Wilson said. “I’ve seen a number of these that don’t look or operate nearl
y as effectively. And you say this isn’t your good one?”
“They’re prototypes, a new type of technology, which on the whole is really, really good.” She held it out to Wilson. “Touch it, it doesn’t feel like plastic, it’s light, but it’s still super strong.”
Wilson touched the back of her hand and looked surprised. “And it’s warm.”
“Once we’ve tested a bit more, I’m going to help the lab cost it out more effectively so that this tech can be made widely available. I’m hoping to arrange a joint venture between the military and industry, so we can limit the profit margins and make it more affordable for those who need one,” Kat said.
“Let me know if you need some support doing that,” Wilson said.
“Thank you; I will.”
***
Adam drove Kat back to her flat at 4 a.m. through the quiet streets of central London. He parked opposite her building and got out of the car, reaching into the back for a small bag.
“Are you coming up?” she said.
“Yeah, I’ll take the sofa if that’s okay.”
“Sure.”
Adam nodded to the occupants of a car in front of the building as they passed.
“Who’s that?”
“We’ve had someone watching your flat all weekend, just a precaution,” he said.
Kat unlocked the door of the flat. Zelda came bounding across the floor to greet them. Kat scooped her up and nuzzled her. Zelda’s purr rumbled across the quiet room. She watched as Adam checked each of the rooms as well as the balcony.
“It’s all good, Kat, you can sleep without concern,” he said, returning to her side and reaching over to tickle Zelda under the chin.
“Thank you,” she said. “I still can’t believe that the investigation into CIP is linked to your missing friend and my accident two years ago.”
Adam nodded. “I had a hunch, but it was far more intertwined than I had imagined. I’d just like to know what happened to Jake and where to find him.”
“Hopefully, Donny will do the right thing and tell someone where he is,” she said.
“He won’t. He won’t admit to murder, even as an accessory.”
“You think he’s dead?”
“Yeah, after what I saw tonight, I do. We would have met the same fate.”
Kat shuddered, and Adam put his arms around her, hugging her tight. She leaned her head on his shoulder and let out a long sigh.
“I’m so tired, I feel like I’m drunk,” she said.
“You need to sleep.”
Kat nodded and stepping out of his embrace deposited Zelda on the sofa.
“You can join me,” she said.
Adam stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. “That’s probably not the best idea for tonight.”
“I meant just to sleep. That sofa is very uncomfortable to sleep on.”
Adam still looked torn.
“Up to you,” Kat said, a false note of brightness entering her voice. “I’m going to have a quick shower.”
When Kat stepped from her bathroom ten minutes later, wearing pyjamas with a towel wrapped around her wet hair, she found Adam stretched out on top of her bed. His boots sat neatly beside his bag at the end of the bed.
Adam watched as she opened a drawer in her bedside table and removed a soft sock which she pulled over her stump. She glanced at him.
“Does this bother you?” she asked, holding her arm out. A silvery scar ran from her forearm to her elbow.
“Not in the slightest,” he said.
She gave a hint of a smile.
“There are towels in the bathroom cupboard, help yourself,” she said.
Adam swung his legs off the bed and stood, grabbing his bag and headed for the bathroom. “Thanks, I will.”
Kat pulled the towel off her head and draped it over the edge of the door. She ran the fingers of her right hand through her damp hair before climbing into bed and falling fast asleep.
***
When Kat awoke several hours later, she was tight up against Adam with her left arm resting on his waist. He had one arm around her, and one hand curled around her stump. She felt something that had been squeezed tight in her chest for so many months shifting, and loosening.
“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
“Hey, you,” she said, lifting her head and smiling at him.
“When we were creeping around that house yesterday, I didn’t think today would start like this,” he said.
“You and me both.”
Adam rolled onto his side, still holding her so that they lay facing one another. They were silent for several moments.
“I could get used to waking up like this,” he said.
“Yes, although I’m not sure I’m looking particularly glamourous this morning. Never a great idea to go to bed with wet hair,” Kat said, smiling at him.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, winding a lock of her hair around his hand and leaning in to kiss her.
The kiss was deepening into something more when his phone rang. He pulled back and sighed, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I need to get that.”
Kat watched as he slipped out of bed and retrieved the ringing phone from his jacket pocket.
He frowned as he glanced at the screen before answering.
“Jackson.”
He listened for a moment before interrupting the person on the other end.
“Now is not a good time. I’ll call you later.” Then. “What? Pregnant? Whose is it?”
Kat heard a raised voice through the handset.
“It can’t be. We’ve been apart six months.”
He listened while the other person spoke before sinking onto the end of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes closed with his free hand pressed to his forehead.
“Okay, okay, we’ll work something out. I’ll pick you up after work, and we’ll talk.”
He ended the call and sat for a moment with his head in his hands.
Kat crawled forward on the bed and touched him on the shoulder. “Everything okay?”
Adam’s head remained bowed, and his eyes were closed.
“Nancy’s pregnant,” he said, not looking at her.
Kat sat back. “Oh, I thought you were…”
“Yes, we’re in the process of getting a divorce.”
“But you must have…”
Adam sighed. “It was a stupid lapse in judgment on my part about three months ago. I went to collect some things and talk through the details of our separation, and one thing led to another.” He cursed. “She wants to postpone the divorce.”
“What do you want?”
Adam finally turned and looked at her. “I would have thought that was fairly obvious by now,” he said.
Kat gave him a small smile.
“But, it’s no longer just about me. There’s a baby to consider. I need to do the right thing.” He straightened his shoulders and turned away from her.
Kat nodded and sat back, feeling deflated.
Adam stood and pulled on his jeans and boots before looking at her again.
“I’m sorry, Kat.”
“Don’t be,” she said, her voice heavy. She hoped she could hold back the tears that were brewing deep within her. “You need to do what’s right for you.”
He nodded and bent to kiss the top of her head. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
She nodded, no longer trusting herself to speak. How was it they’d gone from being wrapped around one another to this, in minutes?
Adam walked to the bedroom door, his bag in hand, and paused. “Kat, the officers will remain downstairs for a few days, but you still need to be vigilant when you’re out and about.”
Kat nodded and slipped off the bed, following him along the hall and into the lounge. She unlocked the front door and held it open for him.
“Well, ah, bye,” he said as he passed through.
Kat closed the door behind him, leaned against it, and swallowed th
e lump in her throat. Zelda padded up to her and meowed. Kat scooped her up and headed for the kitchen.
“Right,” she said, letting out a long, steadying breath. “Coffee; I guess it’s too early for anything else.”
Epilogue
Kat stood with Nathan, Shamira, and Charles Stevenson at the top of the staircase leading to their charred and water-damaged office. A breeze floated through the cavernous space from the tarpaulin-draped windows. The red brick walls were scorched and the wooden floors damaged beyond repair from both the fire, subsequent water and the fire retardant used to put the blaze out. The aroma of smoke and chemicals hung in the air.
Stevenson unbuttoned his suit jacket and surveyed the damage with a heavy sigh.
Nathan’s arm was in a sling, but he had been deemed well enough to be discharged from the hospital.
“What a mess,” Kat said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Nate, you were so lucky to get out in time.”
“I know, mate,” he said. “I had my headphones on and my back to the stairwell, so I didn’t hear anything. First thing I knew, I smelt smoke, and when I turned around, this whole side of the room was blazing, and the flames were racing along the ceiling towards me.”
Shamira’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she clutched at Nathan’s uninjured arm.
“I just bolted for the fire exit and jumped off. Gave some bloke walking past a hell of a shock,” he said.
“Have they caught whoever set the fire?” Kat asked.
Stephenson shook his head. “No, not yet.”
“So how much damage to the building overall?”
“The downstairs foyer, this floor and the one above will need completely renovating,” he said. “The sprinklers all kicked in, and the fire brigade got here really quickly. It could have been far worse.”
“It looks like the computers and files are all destroyed,” Shamira said, looking at the twisted and shattered screens and burned out shelves.
Stephenson nodded. “Just as well we keep everything in the cloud. Being 90% paperless has turned out to be fortuitous.”
“When will we be back in here?” Nathan asked.
“Three to four months,” he said. “But in the meantime, I’ve managed to secure a floor in the building opposite. It’s not as nice as this, but it will have to do.”
