by C R Martens
“I sat watching him for a little while, holding his hand. His breathing became slower and slower. In the end, it didn’t take long or at least it didn’t feel like it did. It was a rather sad ending, nothing spectacular, life just stopped. That’s when I realised I was alone and he was gone. I started to stage the room, hiding more drugs. I put on my wig and applied my contact lenses, glasses and made sure there was no trace of me having been there that day. I was a ghost. Then I walked out of the back door, staying clear of the cameras. I did what I was ordered to do. He was my first kill for the firm and you always remember your first. Don’t you?”
Eve sat there looking down at her hands, they were calm, you would have thought a memory like that would have elicited some sort of physical reaction like her childhood memories did. But, no, this was work and she was always professional when it came to work. She could feel the psychologist staring at her, the room seemed smaller and darker than usual. “These past four years have transformed me. They used everything bad from my past and turned me into what I am today and you don’t think that is relevant?” she asked.
“I am here doing as I have been instructed.” He clenched his fist unknowingly. “So, I suggest we get back on topic: you.”
“Me. Well, I am nothing special,” I explained. “I have no real connection to anyone. I have no trouble lying to my family and friends. Keeping everybody I have ever met at arm’s length is what I do best. It’s what I have done my whole life, keeping up a front so no one could get close. I spent my childhood surviving but the fact is I don’t think I did survive. I was too damaged, which is why I am what I am.”
“I think that’s enough,” he said, the man who may or may not be a psychologist. He quickly closed his notebook and packed his things away in his suitcase. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just left Eve to sit alone in the small dark office. She knew this was the beginning of the end.
10.
The lessons I learn from life are always learned the hard way. I always see the storm before it comes and my body tells me to run. I can feel all my nerve endings firing at full throttle, ready to run, but I don’t, I wait for the blow to hit me. Half my life I ran for cover but now I won’t run anymore. My flight mode is off, I am ready for a fight.
Eve walked out of the small dark office closing the door behind her. She stood there in the dim-lit concrete hallway where there were a dozen other black doors exactly like the one she had just exited. At the firm this was known as the interrogation corridor. Each room had a different level of comfort ranging from a calm interview setting to intense interrogation. Eve had only ever been on the darker side of the range, right now she figured she had just been in a room that belonged at the start of the scale. She heard the sound of a camera turning. She looked up to face whoever was watching and then she turned her back and walked down the corridor towards the exit and the lifts. As she stood waiting for the lift, she felt the camera move again. She didn’t turn to face it this time, she just took notice and stored the information away. At that moment the lift pinged and the doors opened and there was Landen Fowler leaning against the side of the lift. Landen and Eve had a complicated past, which they had never discussed. Landen was classic British – he was good looking and they definitely were attracted to each other. But it was all so very tainted by bad decisions on both parts.
“Hi,” he said, standing up straight. His brown eyes were captivating. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Eve replied. Getting in she placed herself with her back against the lift’s side. “Just had my last session with the household psychologist.”
“I’ve heard about him.” Landen smiled, it was contagious. “It is a him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, he’s a him.” Eve smiled but kept her eyes on the lift doors.
“How’s the desk?” he asked with a sly smile. Eve looked at him.
“Better looking from a distance,” she said. Her full lips were pursed but her eyes smiled. “I don’t think my desk was meant to be sat at for a long period of time.”
“Yeah, you never used to come into the office much,” he continued.
“How would you know? Do you spend a lot of time here yourself?” She looked at him curiously. “Our jobs rarely call for office time.”
“Just doing what’s expected,” he said, giving a vague answer. Of course Eve knew why he was there so often – he wanted Cain’s job. Eventually. “It’s a motivational thing. I get my work done quicker when I sit in an office environment.”
Before Eve had a chance to speak again, the lift stopped and the doors opened. Landen smiled awkwardly and stepped out, briskly walking towards his desk. It had been a while since Eve had spoken to Landen and something felt odd about the conversation. She liked Landen, that was obvious, but small talking like that with him had made her feel uneasy. She didn’t want to let him in on her suspicions regarding the ‘fake’ psychologist. Maybe it was just their past that made Eve suspicious of him.
“Burns.” It was Cain – Eve’s boss. “Come.”
Cain was American, he pretended to be an old-school cop type, or at least tried to come across as one, but in actual fact, he was far more intelligent than he let on and far more manipulative than most realised. Everything about his appearance was average. Even though he was handsome, he downplayed his look. If he stood in a crowd, no one paid attention to him, which Eve suspected was the reason for him being in this job. She had never seen him active on a case but she had heard rumours of his abilities in the field. He had never warmed to Eve, but Harlow had seen her potential three years earlier and since then Eve had shown her capability for manipulation. He still didn’t like her, but he had come to respect her.
“Yes, sir?” Eve entered the glass-box office, closing the door behind her.
“You had your last session today, which means you can get off desk duty and back in the field,” he said while flipping through some papers. “You got the all-clear.”
“I just returned from my last session.” Eve paused. “How could I already have gotten an all-clear?
“Because I said so.” He closed the file and leaned back in his chair. “I have never liked the psychological piss that ensues in the aftermath of a failed assignment, but it’s what Zurich wants so that’s what we do.”
“OK, so what now?” Eve asked. She really wanted to ask why her sessions had gone on for so long, but she wasn’t feeling like her usual talkative self so she didn’t. Cain looked at her for a second, taking in the difference in her. She could tell he was trying to read her so she put her face and body in neutral. Nothing to read here.
“You’re going back to your roots. Denmark.” He took a file from the bottom of the pile and handed it to her. Eve looked at the file, she had seen the case number before, but it wasn’t one of her old cases.
“It’s Harlow’s pile,” he said, his demeanour changing. “All her open cases, they are yours now, but that one,” he said, pointing at the one in Eve’s hand, “that takes priority.”
“Why me?” she asked. “There are more senior agents to handle these.”
“There are,” he said, looking Eve straight in the eyes. “But no one knows Harlow like you did.”
“I’ll get right on it, sir,” she said. Eve stood, picked up the pile of cases and turned to leave the office. “I’m sorry for your loss, sir. I know you two were close.”
She opened the door and walked out to her desk. She could feel Cain looking at her, she had caught him off guard with her last remark. He had let his façade slip and Eve had seen him for who he really was for the first time.
Harlow and Cain had always had a close relationship. Harlow had been American too and their bond had been a wonder to Eve as they couldn’t have been more different. Harlow and Eve, on the other hand, were the same, they were both referred to as persuaders, their attractiveness along with their calm and pleasant demeanours opened doors and made people tell them things they weren’t supposed to or wouldn’t normally. They had the capab
ility to be whatever the target desired.
Eve sat staring at the pile of files when she realised Landen was staring at her. She looked up and caught his eye, quickly he looked away and walked straight towards Cain’s office. Bursting in there, Landen was clearly angry. They exchanged some loud words and then Landen left the office almost as suddenly as he had entered it. Eve only too clearly understood the reason for his anger. He was a persuader too but perhaps, more importantly, he was more senior than Eve. He should have taken over from Harlow.
The past months had felt like one big pile of paperwork. What was one more stack? It wasn’t exactly new; when she had first finished training, Eve had often spent days sifting through useless information to get to that one vital piece of evidence. Looking for that word that could be a game changer. But as a persuader, Eve’s time was usually spent in the field, which was why she rarely frequented the office anymore. And when she did have paperwork, she preferred the privacy of her own home away from all the distractions.
Though it was a priority case, Eve put aside the Copenhagen file momentarily and started going through all the other files, ranking them in order of priority. The office continued around her; people moved in and out of the room and soon it was just Eve and the ghost team in the building. The ghost team did the surveillance during the night and gave whatever necessary support an agent undercover might need urgently. Once she had the other files ranked by importance, Eve started to flip through the Copenhagen file, skimming through the research documents. Then came what Harlow had written. Eve could hear her voice in her head as clear as anything else. Compartmentalising had never been more important than now. Eve knew FIA was covering up something to do with Harlow’s death, but what exactly, she couldn’t tell. The whole situation certainly seemed odd. Harlow hadn’t said much to Eve the day she had given her the flash drive to hide, but no agent does that without a cause. Thinking back on their meeting that afternoon many months ago, Eve felt she could have done so much more to prevent Harlow’s death.
“Don’t look at it.” Harlow’s expression had been odd – different. “Don’t think about it, just place it somewhere safe. And don’t be obvious about it. No one can know you have it.”
“Of course.” Eve took the little flash drive. “You’d tell me if you needed help, right?”
“Depends on the situation. Don’t mention this meeting to anyone.” Harlow smiled her winning smile. But Harlow couldn’t hide her worry from Eve. You can tell so much from someone’s eyes, words are rarely really needed.
“Harlow, I mean it.” Eve took Harlow’s hand softly. “You’re the only reason I’m here. I would do anything you’d ask of me.”
Eve stood watching Harlow walk away, she had fought all her instincts that screamed, ‘pursue Harlow, go after her’. But she didn’t. Eve had trusted Harlow then. Now Eve sat in the office thinking of all the different ways she could have prevented Harlow’s death. Harlow was more than a mentor, Eve would have said Harlow was her closest confidant and friend, but the fact was that outside of work they didn’t see each other. For both of them, work was the entirety of their lives, an all-consuming entity that once you had felt it, there was no going back. Eve had put her life in Harlow’s capable hands on numerous occasions, now it would seem Harlow was in need of Eve’s capable skills, even if Harlow was asking from beyond the grave. But Eve couldn’t get the flash drive just yet, because all eyes were directed at her, literally. There were five cameras in the room and all five were pointed at her. Eve ignored them, they were, after all, easier to ignore than the new ghost team member who wasn’t very skilled at surveillance. He was standing watching her, not even making an effort to disguise his intent.
Eve spent the next two hours focusing on the Copenhagen file, a file about a missing FIA operative in Copenhagen. A Swede called Dennis Hellström. A former police officer with the Swedish police, he had started working for FIA in 2006. He was an experienced agent when he went missing a year earlier while working on an undisclosed case in Copenhagen. Eve thought it odd that you would put an agent of Harlow’s calibre on a missing agent’s case but then conceal the perhaps most obvious reason for his disappearance. What was he working on? The file was lacking information, which was unusual as Harlow was very fastidious in her work and Cain had put her on the case almost immediately after Hellström’s disappearance. There should have been plenty of material to work from so where were all Harlow’s notes?
Eve left the office at two in the morning but she didn’t go home, she went straight to Harlow’s place, via several misleading routes to shake off any potential tail she might have. She figured it was best to break into Harlow’s flat during the night as there was a smaller chance of getting caught.
Eve wasn’t surprised to see the flat completely clean and partially empty – the firm did this when an agent died. Eve stood there for a moment looking around. She gathered her thoughts, inhaled and walked into the flat. Standing in the middle of the living room, Eve saw none of Harlow’s personality. FIA had been thorough in their search, Eve could tell they had taken up some of the floorboards. Finding nothing of importance in the living room, Eve continued into the bathroom. She started to feel around the walls for any unevenness. If Eve were to hide anything, she would hide it in the bathroom and Harlow had, after all, trained her so maybe she would have done the same. When she found no hiding holes, Eve wondered if she had ever really known Harlow at all. Eve knew that Harlow Dean hadn’t been Harlow’s real name, but that was standard in their industry. What Eve needed now was the private Harlow, the person Harlow was when she was alone when no one could see her, but searching her mind, Eve found it hard to recall any moments when she had gotten a glimpse of the real Harlow.
Discouraged, Eve sat on the bathtub edge. That’s when she felt it give way ever so slightly as if it wasn’t supported properly. Eve bent down and saw faint scrape marks on the floor tiles, but the scratches continued under the bathtub. She pushed a tile a little and it slid ever so slightly under the bathtub. Eve pushed a finger under the tile and slowly edged it out. There it was, a small hole in the floor; and in between the floor beams was a bundle of rolled up documents and a CD. The latter was what caught Eve’s eye first; it was an odd item, CDs weren’t used anymore at the firm. Eve took the items and closed the compartment again. She stood listening in the dark, picking up noises most people wouldn’t hear and that’s when Eve heard voices on the stairs – both near the front and the back door. Not wanting to risk anything, she decided to go out a small side window in the kitchen. The window was facing another building with only about a meter between them. With a foot on either wall, she could hear she had made the right decision. As the front door was opened, Eve quietly closed the window and started to crawl down the building. She wanted to see who had entered the flat but she didn’t want to risk getting caught. On the ground she was even more careful than usual not to be seen. Rather than going home, she went to a hotel close to FIA’s office building. That way she could explain her absence from home the past couple of hours, should anyone have gone by her flat. All of a sudden it started – alarm bells, a sense of danger came over her.
“Hi, can I have a room for the night?” Eve leaned against the reception counter.
“Sure. What’s the name?” asked the man behind the counter. “It’s £67 for the night.”
“Even when the night’s half gone?” Eve smiled jokingly at him while getting her card out. “And I’m Eve Burns.”
“I’m afraid so.” He smiled shyly back.
“Okay, in that case, can I ask you to not charge the amount until morning? She flirted while handing him the card. “And perhaps, put in the reservation from 2 this morning rather than now.”
He hesitated and looked down at the computer. “Um, OK, I suppose I can do that,” he finally said.
“Perfect. It’s only because I don’t want to get in trouble with work, I was supposed to be at this production seminar, but I overslept and missed my flight and the
beginning of the meeting.” She smiled flirtatiously at him. “And then I went out partying and I really don’t want them to ask why I didn’t check in until four this morning, when everyone left the dinner at around two.”
“It’s fine, not a problem.” He said thoroughly confused.
“Thank you.” Eve smiled.
Eve closed the door behind her, the room was dark and nothing special, just your standard Best Western hotel décor. She didn’t even bother to turn the lights on and she didn’t even look at what she had found at Harlow’s place. If Eve wanted to go about this the right way, she needed sleep, but she was too wired to do that right now. Things began to get clearer as the adrenalin started to slow down in her body – the psychiatrist, the cases, that one name.
***
When the adrenalin finally had worn off, Eve had fallen asleep right where she had fallen on the bed, fully-clothed and shoes still on. She woke early, not because she couldn’t sleep but because the sun was shining from a clear sky right through her window. Rolling away from the bright light, Eve rolled right onto Harlow’s hidden files. Looking at them, Eve knew that there was a 50/50 chance that these were the files that got Harlow killed. Alternatively, they might just be a decoy for FIA to find. One thing was for sure, Eve was not going into the office today. And just like that, her mobile rang.
“It’s Eve,” she said, answering the phone.
“Cain here,” exclaimed the voice at the other end. He never was a welcoming man. “Where are you?”
“I’m following a lead on one of Harlow’s cases and I won’t be coming in today,” she replied.
“Which case?” Cain asked in his usual matter-of-fact fashion.
“Her missing informant,” she replied. “The last place she tracked him to was Tower Hamlet’s borough. She had a meeting with him on Bancroft Road, but she didn’t write down an address.”
