by Margot Scott
Antonio enjoyed working for Alex McCall. They went way back, having met at MI-5. Alex was an undercover field operative and Antonio worked in the technology department, a computer and security systems analyst. The two had worked together over the years on various cases and investigations. Antonio had been sorry to see Alex quit MI-5, but knew it was what Alex needed to do to get on with his life.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to Alex in years, when, out of the blue, he’d gotten a phone call from him. Antonio had been happy to hear from his old friend and co-worker, and glad that Alex seemed to have been able to move on from Michelle’s tragic death. They met up at a pub, had a couple of beers, caught up on each other’s lives. Alex had just started McCall Enterprises and was looking for someone who could basically be his right hand man. Alex asked Antonio if he would be interested.
Antonio went home that night and thought about Alex’s offer. He awoke the following morning knowing he would take the job. Antonio had put in almost fifteen years at MI-5 working for the British government – he was tired and burned out. It was time for a change. That was five years ago – Antonio had been working for Alex ever since.
He got out the Range Rover, slipping the tiny camera into his jacket pocket. Antonio scanned the area, looking for anyone or anything. Just like Alex, he had been trained to always assess your environment. The white washed brick building appeared just as calm and quiet as when he had arrived to collect Alex this morning.
Antonio looked up at Katherine’s window. Her window drapes were closed. Good, he thought. He walked to the front door of the building, stood under the blue awning and punched in the code to the building. The door buzzed allowing for entrance. Antonio skipped the elevator, and instead took the stairs to Katherine’s flat. He walked down the hallway, looking for security cameras the building already had installed. He didn’t see a single camera anywhere.
Antonio stood outside Katherine’s door, listening. He thought he heard the sound of the shower running. Antonio quickly looked over his shoulder – no one in sight. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the security camera. It was the size and shape of a tiny screw. Antonio worked fast, installing the camera into Katherine’s door. He screwed the camera in tightly, fitting it just below the door handle, where it was not visible.
Stepping back from the door, he could see the tiny pinprick of a camera, just barely. He tapped on his smartphone, and then suddenly he saw himself on the screen, crystal clear. The camera was working properly.
Antonio exited the building, returned to the Range Rover. He sent a text to Alex with a link to log into the security camera system. A few moments later Alex text back with “Well done.”
Fifteen minutes later, Katherine steps outside, walking towards the SUV. Antonio hops out to open the door for her. Katherine smiles and says hello to Antonio – he could understand why Alex was so smitten with her. Kind and genuine, with a kind of beauty that was warm and approachable. Antonio could also understand why Alex would do everything he could to protect her.
Chapter 36
The dreary hotel room was making Caprice depressed. She was ready to return to Naples. Now. Caprice frowned – seemed like she had been thinking that a lot lately.
She hadn’t slept well the previous night. Who would on this horrible, piece-of-shit bed? Caprice was very particular about the bed she slept in, even more so than whose bed she slept in. She just wanted to get back home to her own apartment, in her own bed, in beautiful, sunny Naples, Italy. When she did return home, she knew what she was going to do.
Sergio was gone now. She was beginning to fully comprehend what that meant for her. It meant she didn’t have the perks that came along with being a Mafia boss’ girlfriend. Plus, she knew Mario and the rest of the Mafia gang would be determined to track down Sergio’s killer. If they knew she had withheld certain information – like knowing Alex McCall, for instance – Caprice could be in serious shit. The Mafia would come after her. She shivered at the thought.
She stood up, walked to the door to make sure it was locked. The digital clock on the bedside table blinked 10:27 am. She would leave in thirty minutes to meet Alex. Caprice had mixed feelings about seeing him. Perhaps it would have been different under better circumstances. She didn’t even feel a twinge of excitement in her pussy at the thought of seeing him.
Stress, Caprice thought. Nobody could get turned on under these circumstances.
She would get back into her stride once she returned home, Caprice assured herself. Then, the first handsome, sexy stranger she laid eyes on would have the ride of his life. That would make her feel better. For the first time in days Caprice smiled.
St. Fredrick’s Tavern was quiet, with no one else there, other than a handful of employees. Caprice sat down at a corner table, waiting for Alex to arrive. She had gotten there early, unable to stand another second in the dingy hotel room.
Caprice ordered a drink – a vodka martini –and was grateful when it arrived. She knew it was a bit early to be drinking, but she didn’t care. She needed something to calm her nerves.
He better fucking show up, Caprice thought as she sipped her drink.
Right on cue, Alex walks through the door. He pauses briefly, looks around the pub. He immediately recognizes Caprice, and walks over to her.
They awkwardly exchange hellos, both trying to act casual. Alex sits down across from Caprice. He doesn’t waste any time.
“What do you want, Caprice?” Alex asks bluntly. He crosses his legs, clasping his hands in his lap, staring directly at her.
Caprice removes her sunglasses, her brown eyes full of fear.
How in the hell could I have been attracted to her? Alex thought, eyeing Caprice. The tight clothes, overly painted face – it was too much. Alex thought about how classy and elegant Katherine was compared to this woman. In Alex’s mind, there was no comparison.
She looks around the pub, leaning in closer to Alex. “Do you know Sergio Rossi?” she asks, lowering her voice.
Alex, refusing to reveal any information, answers her question with a question. “Why don’t you tell me how you know Sergio Rossi?”
Caprice stared at Alex, realizing she wasn’t going to get very far by asking him questions. She might as well just lay it all out on the table. Besides, if she didn’t tell him what she knew, how was he going to be able to make all of this go away? Or even worse, would he even be able to?
“Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. Sergio Rossi is……was……il mio amante. My lover. For almost a year.” Caprice looked away, blinking the tears back. She took a sip of the vodka martini, the alcohol burning her throat. “He was murdered. Here, in London, last Tuesday.” She downed the rest of her drink in one long gulp, setting the glass down with a clink.
Alex watched Caprice finish her drink. “Continue.” His voice was calm and in control.
Caprice cut her eyes at Alex, irritated at how calm he was. “Continue?!” she hissed. Caprice was used to big, loud Italian men – not this calm, reserved British man sitting in front of her. She wondered how in the hell she could have ever been attracted to him.
Caprice took a deep breath. She needed Alex, she reminded herself. It was not in her best interest to piss him off.
“Sorry, Alex. I’m just under much stress. You understand, I’m sure.” She lowers her eyelashes, giving her best I’m sorry act.
Alex, trying not to roll his eyes, leans forward in his chair. “I understand. Please, tell me more.” He hoped he sounded sincere so she would hurry up and get to the point. Alex did not like having his time wasted – especially by dramatic females like the one sitting in front of him.
“I found him. In our hotel room, at the Bulgari Hotel. I walked in, Sergio was lying on the floor. There was blood everywhere. I bent down to hold him, and Sergio said your name before he died.” Caprice pulled out a tissue, dabbed her eyes with it.
Alex’s mind was clicking, all the pieces falling into place. As
soon as Caprice uttered the name Sergio Rossi, Alex knew immediately what kind of situation he had on his hands. Sergio Rossi. Son of Vincent Rossi, former Mafia boss. Former Mafia boss that Alex killed.
“Caprice, why were you and Sergio in London?” Alex asked, trying to obtain as much from her as possible.
Caprice shrugged. “He said business. I didn’t ask, he didn’t tell. That’s how it was with Sergio. No questions.”
Alex nodded. For Caprice, it was better not to know. And she was right – it was safer that way.
“What happened after you found him?”
“I called his man, Mario. He shows up with the others, and they did what they needed to do. Then we left, returned to Naples on Sergio’s private plane. I’ve been at my apartment ever since, thinking about what to do. So, I reached out to you, Alex. I didn’t know what else to do,” Caprice said, her voice rising. She looked at Alex, her eyes wide.
Alex could see the fear in Caprice’s eyes. Real fear. Anyone in this situation would be. Alex looked out the window of the pub. Londoners darting here and there, people wrapped up in their own lives. He turned back to Caprice, who was staring at him expectantly.
She asked him again. “How do you know Sergio?”
“I can’t tell you, and, besides, you don’t really want to know.” Alex wasn’t going to put her in any more of a dangerous situation by telling her too much. Besides, he knew Caprice was desperately trying to get out of this situation, not get even more involved in it.
“You’re right,” Caprice agreed, straightening in her seat. “I do not wish to know more. What I want is to be out of it. Finito. I’ve told you all that I know. Now, you take care of it. Okay?” she said, almost pleading. She wanted nothing more than to forget about the last week and move on with her life.
“I am going to do everything in my power to resolve the situation. Now, what I want you to do is return to Naples as soon as possible. Don’t talk to anyone about Sergio. Do not tell anyone about our meeting. Keep a low profile. If you can, that is,” Alex said wryly, unable to resist.
Caprice smiled, relaxing a little. “You know, Alex,” she said, pointing at him. “You seem different now. You’re not the same bad boy I once knew.”
Alex simply smiled, and said, “No, Caprice, I’m not. Thank goodness.”
Caprice, returning his smile, said, “A good woman will do that to a man.”
And with that, Caprice said goodbye to Alex McCall, slipped on her dark black Gucci shades, and walked out of the pub, ready to board the next flight to Naples. Caprice hoped to never lay foot in London again.
After Caprice left, Alex sat in the pub awhile longer, thinking. He ordered a whisky, his mind analyzing the situation, fitting the pieces of the puzzle together. Sergio Rossi was the son of a big-time Mafia boss. Sergio himself became head of the Mafia, just like dear old dad. Sergio had been in London last week. Sergio had said his name, Alex’s name, moments before his death. There could be only one reason Sergio was in London - to kill him. To avenge his father’s death. But who killed Sergio Rossi, and why? That was the question that was racking Alex’s brain.
Alex thought back to the night he killed Sergio’s father, Vincent Rossi. He remembered everything, every detail of that night. He closed his eyes, the memories rushing back to him. He remembered feeling so calm when he pulled the trigger. He could still see Vincent Rossi falling dead to the ground, his back covered in blood. And the fear - Alex recalled the fear and horror in Nick Stone’s eyes, his old partner at MI-5.
That fear never left Nick’s eyes. Alex remembered the months afterwards. The fear grew and grew in Nick, like a cancer eating him from the inside out. Alex could still feel the heartbreak of seeing Nick in the psychiatric hospital, drugged to the gills, a shell of the man he once was.
Alex sat at the table, sipping his whisky, his mind on Nick Stone. He never knew what happened to Nick. Alex’s own life spiraled out of control shortly after, with the death of Michelle. A few years later, Alex took off, drifting from place to place, country to country, desperately trying to escape his own demons.
Alex would need to find Nick Stone. He was the only other person directly involved in the Vincent Rossi case. Alex finished his drink, and walked outside to the hustle and bustle of the city. He would call his old associate, Fred Langley. Fred was head of what was nicknamed the Tag and Track Unit at MI-5. Officially it was called FO-6, Former Operatives Unit #6, which tracked and monitored former MI-5 operatives. Supposedly, the unit was interested in former operatives’ welfare, but really it was about making sure no former employees went haywire and caused trouble for MI-5. Hopefully, Fred would know Nick’s whereabouts.
Alex walked along the sidewalk, with no particular destination in mind. Alex resolved to figure all of this out. He had to, he told himself. What kind of future would he and Katherine have if he didn’t get to the bottom of it? He would find Sergio Rossi’s killer and, once and for all, put his past behind him.
Alex walked home, deciding it would be best to make this call in the total privacy of his own home. Alex sat down in his study and pulled out his phone. He dialed Fred Langley’s direct number.
“Fred Langley,” the voice on the other end of the line said.
“Fred, its Alex. Alex McCall. I know it’s been awhile, but -”
“Alex McCall! Holy shit! I can’t believe it’s you!” Fred burst out, unable to believe what he was hearing. Fred always thought Alex was one of the best field operatives MI-5 ever had.
“Hello, Fred. Yeah, it’s really me. How are you?” Alex asked.
“I’m okay. The wife and kids are all doing well. And you? How’s the hotel business?”
Alex chuckled. “Not too bad, not too bad. Listen, Fred, I need to ask you a favor. Can you look up someone for me? It’s important.”
Fred stalled. “Well, you know…….I’m not really supposed to release any information about former employees to anyone outside of the agency.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask you do to this unless it was really important. Can you help me out?”
“Alright, Alex. But, I’m only doing this because it’s you,” Fred said, relenting. “Who is it?”
“Nick Stone.”
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Fred said, clicking on his keyboard. A moment of silence, then, “Oh yeah, I remember that bloke. Got sent off to the nut house. Okay, Alex. Looks like Nick Stone is still at Sacred Light Hospital, Psychiatric Unit.”
Alex frowned. Nick was still there? Shit. The guy was worse off than Alex had realized. “You sure?” Alex questioned.
“That’s what the computer says,” Fred replied.
Alex looked up the phone number and address of Sacred Light Hospital. “Thanks, Fred. I appreciate your help.”
“Hey, no problem. Good to hear from you. Take care.”
Alex called Sandra at the office and told her he would be out for the rest of the day. He then sent Katherine a text: Will be out today, but let’s meet for dinner. Call you later.
An hour later, Alex arrives to the hospital, about an hour outside of London. It looked exactly the same as when Alex had been here all those years ago visiting Nick. It was hard to believe Nick was still here.
If he wasn’t already crazy going in, he sure as hell will be coming out. If he ever gets out, thought Alex.
Alex walked to the front lobby, an overweight receptionist with chubby cheeks was sitting there. She smiled when she saw Alex – she didn’t see many handsome men like Alex coming in through the front door.
“Hello. May I help you?” asked the receptionist, beaming at Alex.
“Hello. I’m here to visit a patient. Nick Stone.”
The receptionist turned to her computer, quickly typing Nick’s name into the system. She frowned and turned back to Alex. “Nick Stone, you said?”
“Yes. S-T-O-N-E,” Alex said, spelling it out for her, just in case she got it wrong.
The receptionist tried again. She shook her head. “We don’t have a Nick Stone here at this hospital, sir. Sorry.”
Alex frowned. “He’s no longer here? When did he discharge?”
“Are you a relative of Nick Stone?” she questioned.
“No, I’m not.” Alex replied. He briefly thought about lying to the receptionist, but decided against it.
“I’m sorry, sir. We’re not allowed to release patient information to non-relatives. Patient privacy and confidentiality regulations. Sorry. But, I can tell you he is no longer at this hospital.” The receptionist shrugged. There was nothing else she could do.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Alex said impatiently, and quickly walked out. He sat down in the Range Rover, his mind whirling.
So, Nick was actually not in the hospital after all. Okay, then where the fuck was he? MI-5’s computer system said he was still located at Sacred Light. Alex leaned his head back against the headrest, shaking his head.
What the fuck is going on? he thought. There’s no way Nick could have just disappeared.
Or could he?
Alex would contact Fred again, tell him what he knew. MI-5 would have to get involved so they could track Nick down. Alex would also make contact with Nicole, Nick’s ex-girlfriend, find out if she knew anything regarding Nick’s whereabouts. Alex pulled out his phone, did a quick Google search on Nicole Brandt, just to see if he could find anything on her.
What Alex found caused a surge of adrenaline to shoot through his body. The first thing that popped up was from the The Metro, Paris’ daily newspaper, with the heading, ‘Local Gallery Owner, 35, Murdered in Apartment.’ Alex quickly read the article, naming Nicole Brandt as the victim. The Paris Police Department was conducting an investigation into the murder. From what the article reported, Nicole was murdered two weeks prior. One week before Sergio Rossi was murdered.
