Dark Eyes of London

by Philip Cox

  ‘Are you sure? Perhaps you didn’t hear it ring; you know, if you were travelling or something.’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. I’ve already checked.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Let me check one more time.’

  Tom retrieved his own call list. The only call registering from Lisa that day was the call at four o’clock.

  ‘Missed calls?’ suggested Amy.

  Tom checked and shook his head. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, holding his phone as if testing its weight. ‘How can a call to me show on her phone, but not on mine? I haven’t deleted anything. In any case, she was on the tube, so couldn’t have made any calls. Or was she? Maybe she physically got off to call? But why isn’t it showing here?’

  ‘Because,’ Amy said slowly, ‘the log shows dialled numbers. Not necessarily calls that got through.’

  ‘Amy Spicer, you are a genius,’ Tom said. ‘I’d never have thought of that.’

  ‘Not just a pretty face.’

  ‘So, she was on her way to meet me, tried to call this guy, can’t get through, so tries me, also unsuccessfully.’

  ‘And you think she decided to go to see him?’

  ‘It’s a possible explanation as to why she was there. If she had gone on to Earls Court, it wouldn’t have taken her long; she could have called me from there. Let me know she was going to be late.’

  ‘But we still don’t know who this bloke is. Do you want to go to see him?’

  ‘Possibly. But we’ve got a busy weekend ahead. Let’s try to call him first.’

  Tom picked up his phone and dialled. ‘Probably get voicemail,’ he said, as it rang. He was right.

  ‘Hello, this is a message for - Pawel Walczak.’ He read the name slowly. ‘You don’t know me. My name is Tom Raymond. I’m a - a friend of Lisa Kennedy. Your name is in her diary as a contact. I need to speak with you. Would you please give me a call back on this number when you pick up this message? Thanks. Bye.’

  ‘Did he sound Polish?’ Amy asked as Tom hung up.

  ‘Not specially. Bit of an accent, maybe. Anyhow, let’s just wait and see what he says when he calls back. If he calls back.’

  ‘So we’ll go to my office tomorrow?’

  ‘Think so. Get that out of the way. Then we can pick up a car and check out those other places Sunday. Or maybe the London one tomorrow.’

  ‘It’ll be quiet down there on a Saturday morning. Might be easier to drive there.’

  ‘Good point. Then we can check out that SE postcode. I’ll go online and check out that car rental place. See if we can pick something up first thing.’

  Once online, Tom found the website for Enterprise Rent-A-Car. There was a local depot. They opted for the cheapest type of vehicle they could and arranged the hire of a Ford Ka for the weekend, to pick up first thing the following morning.

  ‘No satnav,’ Tom said, as he logged out. ‘But we can get a location for those postcodes online. I think I’ve got a road atlas somewhere, and an A to Z.’

  Amy retrieved the sheet of paper Jimmy Khan had given Lisa. ‘The first one is SE18 3BR.’

  ‘Hold on - that’s Grim Close, in Nunhead, South London. Jesus, it’s only round the corner from where Lisa’s funeral was held.’

  ‘Ugh. Creepy,’ said Amy, shivering.

  ‘What’s the other one?’

  ‘That’s IP12 5DF.’

  ‘IP12 5DF - that’s Hemley Lane, Little Newbourne, Suffolk.’

  ‘Suffolk? But that’s miles away.’

  ‘True, but clearly something’s there.’

  ‘How long would it take to get up there?’

  ‘Best part of two, three hours, I’d say. All the more reason to go to Grim Close - that even sounds creepy - tomorrow, then spend the day in Suffolk. Then it’s Monday again, and we need to do something about work.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Decide if we’re still off sick, I mean.’

  ‘Are you expecting to have this sorted by then?’

  ‘No idea. Depends what we find. We’ve got a lot of things to look into this weekend: your office, these locations, and the Polish guy.’

  ‘I’ll need to pick some more stuff up from my place, if we can. Or do more laundry.’

  ‘Can you last a couple more days?’

  ‘Guess so. Maybe we could call in there on the way back Sunday.’

  Tom said nothing.

  ‘Tom?’

  ‘Sorry - what?’

  ‘You seemed miles away. I said maybe I could pick up some stuff from my place on the way back Sunday.’

  ‘What? Oh, yes; sure.’

  ‘Well, I think I’m going to take a shower.’

  ‘Right, okay. I might take one too, later.’

  ‘Fine.’

  As Amy went into the bathroom and he heard the shower go on, Tom sat in the kitchen thinking. If Lisa was going to meet him, why did she make a sudden detour to Earls Court? And who was this Pawel Walczak? He tried the number again. Still to voicemail. This time Tom hung up, not bothering to leave a message.

  He swung round in his chair as Amy stuck her head round the bathroom door.

  ‘Just about to get in the shower,’ she called out.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Were you going to take one?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, probably take one later.’

  She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘Why not save water?’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The river boat pulled away from Canary Wharf pier. Two figures, a man and a girl, ran up the pier, waving at the boat, but they were too late. Each must have blamed the other for missing the boat, as they began to argue, gesticulating wildly.

  Sebastian Fleming chuckled, and put down the binoculars. As he turned back to his desk, there was a knock on the door. ‘Come in.’ he called out. It was Carol.

  ‘I’m just about off now, Mr Fleming,’ she said. ‘Is there anything else you need before I go?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he answered, looking at the paperwork on his desk. ‘I was just about to go soon myself. Tell John to have my car ready outside in twenty minutes, will you?’

  ‘Right you are, Mr Fleming. Good night, then. Have a good weekend.’

  Fleming did not reply as Carol closed the door and left. He started to pack the paperwork on his desk and transfer it to his attaché case. Put on his coat and then picked up the case. As he was walking down the corridor to the lifts, he bumped into Ashley Merchant, who was walking from the lifts with Vine. He shuddered slightly: even though he was the CEO, and had known Vine for many years and had never had any problem with him personally, there was something about the albino he found unsettling.

  ‘Ah,’ said Merchant. ‘I’m glad I caught you before you left.’

  ‘I was going to call you from the car. I’ve been waiting for your report.’

  Merchant signalled for Vine to go into her office. Once she and Fleming were alone, she spoke. ‘Nothing to report on the Spicer front. She still hasn’t surfaced.’

  ‘She’s holed up somewhere with that man you couldn’t identify.’

  ‘Quite likely. She -’

  ‘Have you been able to find out who he is?’

  ‘Not yet. A boyfriend or something, maybe. But -’

  ‘Carol told me she used to be friendly with the Kennedy woman. Could he be something to do with her?’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose -’

  ‘Has anybody asked around? Checked her desk or locker? Gone into her emails?’

  Merchant was getting irritated at being constantly interrupted. She replied civilly, but with an edge to her voice. ‘Nobody seems to know much. They both kept themselves to themselves. We’ve checked Kennedy’s desk, and Spicer’s, and both their lockers. Nothing there to indicate who this man might be.’

  ‘Their emails?’

  ‘Nothing there, either. If they did email from here, they must have deleted it immediately, from the Outbox, and Tras
h folders. Nothing there. Realistically, they would have used their mobiles.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Miles Turner? He always seems to know what’s going on in respect of the female staff.’

  ‘He thinks he does. Or tries to. But he knows nothing. He told me in confidence he had one lunchtime drink with Kennedy and got the impression she was off men, and never got past first base with Spicer.’

  ‘Well, that’s fantastic,’ Fleming said, looking around.

  ‘You know, you could be worrying about nothing,’ Merchant said. ‘There’s no way either of them could have found out anything. Kennedy and Khan are out of the picture -’

  ‘The Spicer girl isn’t.’

  ‘I know. Vine’s left Carter waiting outside her place. She’ll have to go back there anyway. And he can tackle both of them if she goes back with her new friend.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.

  ‘Vine’s going back to relieve Carter. Before he falls asleep. I’ve instructed payroll to freeze her salary payment. They were due to be paid Monday, so having no money might flush her out.’

  ‘Unless the boyfriend’s bankrolling her.’

  ‘She can’t stay that way for ever. We’ll get her; don’t worry.’

  ‘I hope so. For everybody -’

  ‘Yes, Sebastian. For everybody’s sake.’

  There was a moment of silence, then Fleming turned away to leave.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Merchant asked.

  ‘Nothing. There’s no way we can alter the timetable. In any case, everything’s secure.’

  ‘You’re not going back up to the facility again?’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘I heard you went back up, just to check things.’

  ‘I did. Just to be sure.’

  ‘But you don’t need to do that again?’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘In any case,’ Fleming said, ‘I don’t need your permission if I want to do that.’

  ‘No, you don’t.,’ Merchant replied, with a hint of sarcasm.

  ‘I’ll be back on Monday,’ Fleming said. ‘Call me if you have anything to report in the meantime.’

  He spun on his heels and marched down to the lifts, fuming that Merchant had found out about his impromptu trip to the facility. It must have been John Sykes - nobody else knew. Fleming was puzzled by this: he had always considered John to be loyal. As for Merchant, her days were numbered, as were those of her strange associates.

  Merchant watched as Fleming strode down to the lifts. She stepped into her office, where Vine was waiting.

  ‘Senile old fool,’ she said quietly, as Fleming turned the corner. ‘He’s beginning to worry me.’

  ‘Do you want me to -’ Vine started to say, but Merchant held up her hand to stop him.

  ‘Let him enjoy his weekend,’ she said.

  *****

  The following morning, Tom sat in his kitchen drinking coffee. Amy was still asleep and he had a satisfied smile on his face. At the beginning of the week, he had no idea what he was getting into, just a desire to find out exactly what had happened to Lisa. Every night, he had no idea what to do next, apart from playing it by ear. Now, he was not just a one man operation, and he had a whole weekend full of leads to follow up. There was the mystery of what was in Lisa’s second locker; there was the significance of these two locations Jimmy Khan had given Lisa; then there was Pawel Walczak - who still hadn’t called back. Of course, they might all turn out to be nothing, but this morning they looked promising.

  Then there was last night. After he had joined Amy in the shower, and they had washed every inch of each others’ bodies, they moved to the bedroom, where his prematurity of the previous night was consigned to the history books. This had been the first intimacy either of them had experienced for some time, and all the energy they had been storing was released over the first few hours of the night.

  At seven thirty Amy shuffled sleepily into the kitchen. ‘Morning,’ she mumbled, as she switched on the kettle.

  ‘How are you this morning?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Tired,’ she said, collapsing on a chair. ‘Think I’ll have coffee this morning. Very black.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve got,’ said Tom, raising his mug.

  ‘I take it that Polish guy didn’t call back,’ Amy said.

  ‘No. I tried again last night, and once more this morning, but got his voicemail again. Let’s get this morning out of the way first, then decide when to go see him.’

  After they had breakfast and more black coffee, they both showered again, this time separately, and were ready to leave at eight forty-five.

  ‘The car hire place is only ten minutes away,’ said Tom, as he gathered up a London A to Z, and a UK road atlas. ‘You got all your work ID?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Amy said, patting her bag. ‘Smart card for the turnstiles.’

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, as he locked the front door behind them.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Just want to get this bit over and done with.’

  The Enterprise rental offices were in fact over twenty minutes’ walk away. As the website had confirmed, they had the use of a Ford Ka until the same time Monday morning. With Amy navigating, Tom drove the Ka onto the main road.

  ‘I think the best route,’ Amy said as she studied the A to Z, ‘is to head for the A406 North Circular, turn right there, and follow it right round until we get to the A13. Then we double back a bit to get to Canary Wharf.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Tom, manoeuvring into the correct lane for the A406 eastbound. ‘Then we can park and make the last part of the journey on foot. I doubt we can park right outside.’

  ‘No, even Mr Fleming has to park somewhere else.’

  The traffic that Saturday morning was relatively light, apart from some road works around Redbridge, and they were turning right onto the A13 just before ten. Tom turned off at Canning Town, and within ten minutes they were on the Isle of Dogs, taking the A1206 south.

  ‘That’s the building over there,’ Amy said, looking over to her right.

  ‘Okay,’ said Tom, flicking the indicator switch. ‘There’s a sign for a car park down there.’

  ‘It’s an underground car park I think,’ said Amy, studying the map. ‘There are three or four of them here.’

  Tom made a right into Marsh Wall, past the Hilton and Britannia hotels; another right into Canary Wharf itself. A left into Upper Bank Street, and then he saw the large blue parking sign and a ramp leading down into the car park.

  There were about half a dozen vehicles parked on the first level, and Tom found a space easily. Amy paid for the ticket, and they took the steps up to street level. When they reached the street, they looked around and up at the skyscrapers. Amy pointed to a building on the next corner.

  ‘That’s my building, there.’

  Tom looked up at the steel and glass tower block. ‘How many floors?’ he asked.

  ‘Twenty, I think,’ she said. ‘But our offices are on the fifteenth.’

  They walked past the front of the building, casually glancing inside. They could see a reception desk, at which a security guard sat. He was reading a newspaper. There was nobody else around. As they reached the corner of the block on which the building was situated, they sat down on a concrete bench.

  Amy looked up at the building, squinting in the sun. Tom put his arm round her shoulder.

  ‘You ready?’ he asked.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Amy nodded and got up. Tom walked with her to the entrance of her building.

  ‘Try to seem confident,’ he said. ‘That way the guard is less likely to question you. Do what you normally do every morning.’

  Amy nodded and pushed the door open. The security guard looked up from his newspaper, and sat up.

  ‘Having to pick up some papers,’ Amy said to the guard. ‘Was off sick a couple of days in the week, so need to catch up.’

  ‘Thought
I recognised you,’ the guard called back, and returned to his Daily Mirror.

  Amy swiped her card through the turnstile reader, and the gate hissed open. She went through, and the gate shut. She turned round with a look of alarm on her face as the gate shut, leaving Tom outside.

  ‘Ask him to open them,’ Tom whispered.

  Amy swallowed, then called out, ‘Excuse me, would you be able to override the gates? My boyfriend is coming up with me.’

  The guard put down his paper and stood up. ‘I don’t know about that. He doesn’t work here, does he? He’s not authorized.’

  ‘I - I don’t like going up there on my own when the office is empty. Especially in the lifts. Please. We’ll only be a few minutes.’

  The guard thought for a moment. ‘Okay,’ he said, pressing a button on his desk. ‘But be quick, and don’t tell anybody.’

  The gates hissed open, and Tom stepped in.

  ‘Thanks,’ he smiled at the guard. ‘We won’t be long. I assume the office is empty. If there is somebody else up there, I could wait in the coffee shop.’

  ‘No,’ said the guard, returning to his reading. ‘You’re the only ones. Be quick now.’

  Tom waved to the guard and they walked over to the lifts. ‘Hope they are working today,’ he said as he pushed the call button. ‘Fifteen floors is a long way up.’

  The lift door opened and they stepped inside.

  ‘Why did you say you would wait in the coffee shop?’ Amy asked as the lift took them to the fifteenth.

  ‘Just a roundabout way of finding out if the offices were empty. You don’t want to get up there and walk straight into one of your workmates, do you?’

  ‘No way.’

  Amy took Tom’s hand as the doors opened on the fifteenth. Her palms were sweating. Lights were on in the lift lobby, but the CitiMarket offices were in darkness.

  ‘Will we be able to get in?’ Tom asked, noticing the glass doors were shut.

  ‘Should be,’ Amy replied, as she punched a four digit code into a keypad on the wall. The little red light on the keypad switched to green and a click came from the doors. Slowly, Amy pushed the door open, and they stepped in. All the lights in the office were off, but there was enough natural light for them to see where they were going.