‘They should count themselves lucky that it wasn’t you they had to deal with.’
Eleanor runs down the stairs and passes us by as she looks for things to stuff in her holdall. She also stops when she sees Blue Tie and Orange Shirt. ‘God. Who are they? What have you done to them?’
‘These guys were coming here for you. You’ve got to remember, Eleanor, you were the only witness to what happened to Natasha. I think they were sent here to take you away somewhere. What was going to happen to you then, I have no idea, but I suspect they were going to make you disappear.
‘The night at the hotel was three weeks ago. If you’d gone to the police, Coleman and his friend would have known about it by now. They were pretty sure you were just going to hide out and hope it would all go away, and they were right. They hired me to find Natasha, but really they hired me to find you.’
‘You keep talking about ‘they’.’
‘The guy you knew as Coleman was actually called Fisher. He works for a guy called Raleigh. Raleigh was the guy in the hotel who killed Natasha.’
‘Whose name is really Viola,’ she says, almost laughing at the complexity of it all.
‘Yes. Viola was his daughter, that part was true. He started abusing her when she was nine and I think he felt he was owed some more quality abuse time with her. When he discovered the sort of agency she was doing escort work for, he decided to set her up, but he needed a female to hire her. That was you. Is that red Alfa Romeo outside yours?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Tell me when you’re ready to go. Sakura will give you directions. I don’t know where you’ll be going and it’s better that you don’t tell me. I know you’re pissed, but you’ll have to drive.’
Sakura prods Blue Tie with her foot. ‘What about these two?’
‘They’ll have to stay here. This one will come around in about ten minutes. The other one is in a more serious state. He’s got about twenty minutes left if he’s lucky. Either this one will call an ambulance for the sick one, or he’ll spirit him away somewhere. I don’t know how he’s going to do it, because I’m taking their car.’
Eleanor races upstairs to get some more stuff from the bathroom. Sakura looks a little pale and panicky. She holds onto my forearm, just like she did on that first day as we walked down Portman Street. ‘I don’t feel so good, Daniel.’
‘You’ll be OK. You’ve got to be. Here’s what’s going to happen.’ I search Blue Tie and take his mobile, his wallet and a bunch of keys. I put them in my pocket. ‘When Eleanor is ready, we’ll go to the front door. I’ll go out and check the street to make sure there are no more surprise visitors or any sort of backup team out there. Once it’s clear, you and Eleanor get in Eleanor’s car and go wherever you’re going to go. Choose a convoluted route if you can manage it. I shouldn’t think you’ll be tailed but don’t take any chances.’
‘How did those men know we were here?’
‘I don’t know. We were tailed by two cars on our way back into London from Abigail’s, but the last time I saw either of the cars was in the King’s Road.’
‘While we were in the taxi? You didn’t say anything.’
‘I know. Don’t worry about it. I saw the driver of one of the cars when I was having lunch, but I managed to give her and her friend the slip.’
I think about Natalie and smile. I hope she’s OK. There’s something wrong with the sequence of events here, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.
I try to think what I did before I came here. I got on the tube at Marble Arch and took the Central Line, getting off at Holborn and walking down to the oyster bar in Carey Street to meet Natalie for lunch.
I’ve been a lot more switched on since Tote Bag and Grey Hair, and wasn’t aware of being followed when I approached Carey Street. However, Wrap Dress and her colleague turned up at the oyster bar. How did Wrap Dress manage that?
The last time I saw her in her yellow car was just before the minicab approached Fulham. If she’d driven straight to Carey Street, she could have easily got there before me, but I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. The only two people who knew about the oyster bar were me and Natalie. I couldn’t be a hundred per cent sure, but I don’t think that Wrap Dress’s companion was the guy who was driving Silver Car, so whoever he was, he’d come from somewhere else.
So she gets to the oyster bar a little after me and isn’t too fussed that I’d clocked her. Natalie does her jealous girlfriend act and I slip out the back way, get a cab to Sakura’s place and we head down here. I didn’t notice us being tailed, and I was keeping an eye out for it.
I close my eyes and try to visualise Eleanor’s street just after the minicab dropped us off. No cars passing by. A woman with a pram on the other side of the road talking to an older woman. They were arguing about something. Sustained car horns in the next street. People shouting. Two very attractive young black women leaving a house about ten doors down on Eleanor’s side of the road. One of them was pulling a bright red cabin suitcase that was the same shade of red as Eleanor’s Alfa Romeo.
We’d been here around forty-five minutes before Blue Tie and Orange Shirt turned up. Unless my instincts are deteriorating badly, they didn’t trail us here and could have had no intelligence regarding our whereabouts. Ah well, fuck it.
I take a look into the street from one of the front rooms. I can hear Eleanor thumping around upstairs. There’s a postman delivering letters to the house opposite and he looks genuine. A man with a long beard walks past the house. He’s late thirties, wearing a combat jacket, an Avril Lavigne t-shirt and he’s talking to himself. Apart from that, it’s clear.
‘OK, ladies. Can you come to the front door, please? Have you locked up the back of the house, Eleanor?’
Eleanor has a think about this. ‘It wasn’t unlocked in the first place.’ She dumps her bag on the floor. It’s huge and stuffed with clothes.
‘Where are you going, Daniel?’ asks Sakura.
‘Raleigh has this place in Holland Park which he uses as an office/home hybrid of some sort. I think that’s where’ll he’ll be. If he’s not there and if Fisher isn’t there, I’ll wait for them. I don’t know what I’m going to do or say, but I have to find out what’s going on here. Until I do, neither you nor Eleanor are safe.’
‘I know the Holland Park place. Viola told me about it. She went there sometimes. You are in danger, too, aren’t you.’
‘From Raleigh? It’s possible. But don’t worry. It’ll be OK. I promise. Eleanor – are you OK to drive? You’re not seeing double or anything?’
‘Of course!’ She smiles brightly as if nothing irregular is happening.
‘OK. It’s just that you still sound slightly pissed. Don’t take any risks, don’t drive quickly and don’t do anything that will attract the attention of the police. I don’t know where you’re going, but when Sakura tells you you’re close, find a public car park to put your car in. Somewhere five or ten minutes’ walk away would be good. Whatever you do, don’t park outside wherever it is you’re going. OK?’
Sakura kisses me on the side of the mouth. ‘Take care.’ I watch as she and Eleanor get into the Alfa Romeo and wait until I see it speed off. I just hope Eleanor doesn’t do anything crazy like drive through a shop front.
I do a quick, final check on Blue Tie and Orange Shirt. Orange Shirt is mumbling and perspiring, Blue Tie is snoring. Eleanor doesn’t appear to have a landline and I’ve got both of their mobiles. Good luck with that one, boys.
I think about what Sakura said before she left.
Take care.
Something about that phrase. I’ve heard that somewhere else today. Marble Arch tube. The guy in the bright yellow jacket. He bumps into me, apologises, then pats me on the back. ‘Late for a date! Take care.’
I don’t fucking believe this. I take my jacket off, run my hand down the back, and there it is; a small, transparent disk about five millimetres across, decorated with barely discernible printed circuitry. Now
I wonder where that came from. I peel it off carefully and stick it on the heel of Blue Tie’s left shoe.
This, of course, would explain Miss Wrap Dress turning up at the oyster bar and my two supine friends here. If I’d been thinking straight, I’d have given the arrival of my oyster bar friends a little more attention, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.
It was a very slick attempt and it almost succeeded, were it not for Blue Tie and Orange Shirt underestimating what would happen to them as soon as they set foot in Eleanor’s house.
I get inside their BMW, turn it over and drive off.
23
THE COOL ROOM
As I head over Vauxhall Bridge, I make an attempt to rationalise what the fuck’s been going on. I get it down to five sentences.
1. Raleigh is a rich, twisted bastard who’s been abusing his own daughter.
2. This abuse puts her on a trajectory to becoming a junkie and a prostitute.
3. Raleigh somehow views her as being his property and decides that if anyone’s going to be having sex with her it’s him.
4. Somehow he eventually gets lucky, finds out how to hire her for the night and uses Eleanor as camouflage.
5. Things turn bad, he accidentally kills his daughter and to tidy things up hires me to track down Eleanor, the only witness to the whole thing.
Except he tells me that the job is to find a daughter that he already knows is dead. Well, I don’t feel that duped or stupid; I have to take each job on face value and if your job appears to be helping someone, you don’t automatically assume that they’ll be lying to you to hinder the investigation.
I pull over and stop the car for a moment, keeping the engine running. I try to look at things from Raleigh’s point of view. What happened in the hotel was unfortunate, but it wasn’t intentional. It was the result of unforeseen circumstances, if Eleanor’s account can be relied upon. He could have called the police, explained exactly what happened and Fisher would have backed him up. If the police investigated properly, they could even have tracked down another witness, Eleanor Wallis, who would have given the same account as everybody else who was in the room.
So Raleigh would almost certainly been charged with manslaughter. It would have gone to court and the case would have been reported in the newspapers. This is a man who most people would not have heard of, but journalists would do some digging and it would all come out. His enormous wealth, his connections to other countries and to various UK politicians and institutions would have been revealed. It would be a big news story and the sleaze factor would bring it to the attention of the tabloids and television.
And if they dug a little further, the truth about his wife’s suicide would come out. In the light of what I know now, her suicide would almost certainly be linked to Raleigh’s behaviour with Viola. And after Louisa Gavreau’s comments about Rosabel Raleigh’s portrait, there would, I imagine, be a lot more newsworthy stuff to come.
If Fisher had been the only witness to what happened in the hotel, they could probably have concocted some variation of the truth between them. They could have spun the same yarn that Raleigh fed me; that of the doting father trying to save his daughter from a life of sin and get her into rehab. The altercation that killed Viola would have to remain the same, but at least the reason that Raleigh was there in the first place could be altered to Raleigh’s advantage.
But with Eleanor as a witness, things would be different. If Eleanor was tracked down and put on the stand, her account would put a different, seedier slant on the whole thing. With her evidence out in the open, questioning of Raleigh and Fisher would be more aggressive and the whole truth would come out sooner or later. It’s conceivable that the police investigation might even lead them to Sakura, and she would be able to confirm the implications of any statement made by Eleanor.
So Raleigh would be disgraced, ridiculed and ruined. His business would collapse and he’d be in prison. He’d possibly even die there. Fisher’s collusion in the whole thing may get him a prison sentence, too. I’m not really sure how that would work. Maybe I should ask Natalie or Olivia one day.
But all of the scandal, all of the ridicule, all of the disgrace, all of the humiliation; it could all be avoided, as could the prison sentence and the ruination of Raleigh’s business interests and reputation. Things could go on just as before as long as Raleigh and Fisher kept their heads and thought of some smart way to locate Eleanor.
All Raleigh and Fisher had to do was to spirit Viola’s body away, find Eleanor and shut her up. They’d never be able to pay her off. Even putting the frighteners on her would be unreliable. One day, she might come back to haunt them in one way or another. She could move abroad and blackmail them from somewhere safe. They’d have discussed this. This woman was a prostitute. She sold her body for money. Anything could happen.
No. The only thing to do with Eleanor would be to kill her. If I was in a job like Fisher’s and was constantly thinking of effective ways to protect my boss and get him to pat me on the head for being a good boy, then that would be the first thing that would pop into my skull.
I guessed Fisher was ex-military. Perhaps he’d been a mercenary. Perhaps his mind-set was to kill first and ask questions later. And someone like Eleanor, who he’d regard as barely human and a piece of meat, well, why the hell not? Once you’ve killed a few dozen people, one more doesn’t make much difference to you. You know the score. You know how it all works. You know how to file away the guilt into a part of your brain that you never visit. You know the risks, you know how to manipulate and bribe, and you know how cover-ups work.
Raleigh’s wealth would doubtless enable him and Fisher to execute and smokescreen something like that, and the way they would regard someone like Eleanor would make getting rid of her easy for them on all levels. Who knows – they may have done something like it before. Raleigh would be taking a huge risk with this, but he’s probably of an age where he would see the risk as worth it. If it turned out to be a gamble that didn’t pay off, so what? He’ll be dead pretty soon anyway.
And now to me and Sakura. Are we safe? I don’t think Blue Tie and Orange Shirt knew that Sakura was in the house, so even if they manage to report back to Raleigh, it would still only be me who would be walking around with Eleanor’s knowledge in my head, as far as he would know.
I indicate, move out and continue driving along the Chelsea Embankment, wondering what exactly I’m going to do if Raleigh is there in Holland Park. A display of righteousness indignation perhaps? ‘How dare you hire me to track down your daughter when you know damn well that she’s dead? Who do you think you’re dealing with?’
Plus, of course, the amount of money he was offering me to find his daughter, dead or alive. That was obviously bullshit and was just a spur to get me to Eleanor a little faster. I wonder if I could take legal action against him for deceiving me. Probably not.
But it’s more serious than that. I’m going to have to assume that I’m in danger as soon as I walk into Raleigh’s office. If he’s there, he may be surprised to see me on my own, assuming that I was going to be dragged in semi-conscious by Blue Tie and Orange Shirt.
I could, of course, just walk away from all of this now. But then I’d be another loose end, just like Eleanor was. I’ve been looking over my shoulder enough for the last few years without having yet another reason to do so. I also have to keep reminding myself that they know where I live. That doesn’t matter so much, but I’d still prefer it wasn’t the case.
And, despite myself, I’d prefer not to leave Eleanor and Sakura at the mercy of a major tosser like Raleigh.
I park a few streets away from Raleigh’s house and leave the car unlocked on a double yellow line because that’s what I’m like. Before I get out, I take a look at the contents of Blue Tie and Orange Suit’s wallets. I can’t remember which wallet belongs to which person, but the contents are similar; a fair amount of cash, credit cards and in one case a membership card to something called Club Mira
beau. Both wallets, however, contain an identical slate-grey key card. I have no idea what doors these may open, but I slip them both in my pocket along with the cash.
I get out and begin the walk to Raleigh’s house with still no clear idea of what I’m going to do or say. I have to admit that I feel rather numb. It seems like this whole thing has been going on for weeks rather than just a few days. I decide that once I’ve got myself checked out in a hospital, I’m going to go on holiday somewhere hot. It’s going to be tough to decide who to take with me, if anyone.
I walk past Raleigh’s house on the other side of the road at first. It’s a wide road with big trees and lots of parked cars, so I shouldn’t be too conspicuous. There doesn’t seem to be any unusual activity outside the house, but that indicates nothing. As I pass it, I take a quick, hard look at the front door. It’s difficult to see any detail, but apart from an old-fashioned door handle, the only locking device seems to be a black oblong on the left-hand side.
After I’ve walked down the road for about two hundred yards, I cross over and head back to the house. I actually don’t know what I’m doing and wonder if I’m subconsciously putting off confronting Raleigh for some reason. I decided that’s bullshit, and when I’m outside the house I run up the steps as if I’m a normal visitor.
To my right is the buzzer that I first pressed only three days ago. On the other side is the black oblong that I noticed from the street. If I’d known I was going to be making a visit, I’d have asked Anjukka who was going to be here today. On impulse, I take one of the key cards from my pocket and wave it across the front of the black oblong. The door immediately clicks open.
Once I’m inside, I close the door behind me, stand still and listen. I can hear the low hiss of the air conditioning, but nothing else. I walk down a corridor until I come to Anjukka’s office. It’s empty and her computer is turned off. Well, this wouldn’t be too unusual. She said that most of the company’s day-to-day work was done at their HQ in the City. Then I notice her big brown leather holdall by the side of her desk. Why is that there? Would she have brought that in and left it here if she wasn’t working? Is there anyone here at all, I wonder?
Kiss Me When I'm Dead Page 32
