‘That’s what I’ve been telling you. You need to spread your wings.’
‘You understand then.’
‘No,’ Maddie looked stricken. ‘This is the opposite of what I meant. Spreading your wings does not mean moving into a pokey little flat with your tame copper.’
‘It’s actually a really nice flat…’
Maddie had already gone. She was crossing the road just in front of the approaching bus.
Lydia stood and watched Maddie board, wondering if she would raise her hand in a ‘goodbye’. If she waved then maybe she hadn’t just set her off on an anger-fuelled rampage. She lifted her own hand ready as Maddie took her seat by a window, but she didn’t turn and look at Lydia as the bus pulled away. Lydia put her hand down and took a couple of deep breaths. Mission accomplished, she told herself. Maddie was definitely now more interested in Fleet which should keep her away from Beckenham. Lydia got into the car and called Fleet to warn him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She had a plan. Jason thought it was a terrible idea, the psychologist thought she should stay far away from her cousin, and even Paul Fox was dubious about it. Still, it was a plan. And her disturbing dreams had stopped. It was as if her subconscious had given up on her. She woke up early from a dead sleep and realised that Fleet was the one having a bad dream. He was sweating and muttering in his sleep. She woke him as gently as she could and made soothing noises until his eyes focused on her.
‘Sorry,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘Nightmare.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
He leaned over and took a swig of water from the pint glass on his side of the bed. ‘Not really. I don’t know.’
Lydia wrapped herself around him and waited, stroking the hair at the base of his skull.
‘I couldn’t see who it was, but I thought it was you. I was at my flat and I was just sitting on the sofa, waiting. Everything was normal and then it wasn’t. There was a woman in a hoodie, but I couldn’t see her face. I thought it was you but she had a knife and then I felt really scared. I couldn’t move, you know, classic nightmare stuff. My body was completely paralysed, and I knew I was going to die.’
‘That’s horrible, I’m sorry,’ Lydia put her forehead against his. ‘It was just a dream, though, right?’
‘I think so,’ Fleet whispered. ‘I mean I get lots of visions. Things that are going to happen, but then they don’t. The only ones which have come true have happened immediately after the vision. If they are too far in the future, I think there are too many variables. Chaos theory. Or free will. Or that thing about how you change the future as soon as you look at it. Is that a physics thing? Atoms behave differently when observed? I can’t remember.’
Lydia stayed quiet and let Fleet talk it out. She knew that feeling. Half-asleep terror being eased by action of talking. When he had gone quiet, she asked if he wanted to try to go back to sleep.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘You can if you want. Sorry I woke you.’
‘It’s fine. How about just lying down?’
Lydia had just fitted herself into the hollow of his body when he said something she didn’t quite catch.
‘There was a fire. The woman in the hoodie was laughing and I couldn’t move and my flat was on fire. I could feel my body burning, taste the smoke. Smell it. It was so real.’
* * *
Once Lydia was up and dressed, she went onto the terrace for a little privacy. Ever since she had taken Charlie’s place at the head of the family, the crows gathered on the roof and along the railing of the terrace. She took the time to greet them all and then set to work. Producing her own coin was as natural and easy as breathing and, now that she had practised, she could create a room full of duplicates and have them dance in any way she wanted.
She wasn’t after anything showy this morning, though. Just control. Ever since making the bracelet with Guillame Chartes she had felt steadier. The nausea hadn’t returned and, although she had passed out in the presence of Maddie and the Silver cup, she put that down to heightened circumstances. Circumstances she was planning to repeat, but still. She would be prepared this time.
There was a light drizzle falling but Lydia barely noticed her clothes slowly saturating as she stared into the middle distance and focused on the idea of her coin. She could feel her power humming in the background and hear the thousands of hearts beating, the crows that lived in the space that wasn’t physical but that she somehow could access. She called to mind the feeling of her power running into the bracelet as Guillame had twisted the metal and, now that she knew the shape of that feeling, found she could repeat it. She felt her power focusing and channelling and when she stopped she saw a single coin, larger than hers and jet black, hanging in the air. She clapped her hands together and it disappeared, but the feeling of calm remained.
Fleet was inside, working on his tablet. He looked up when she came in. ‘You’re soaked.’
‘I’ve got a plan.’ Lydia licked her lips. ‘But you’re not going to like it.’
He closed the laptop. ‘I will support you whatever, you know that. I’m on your side.’
‘I’m going to turn over Mr Smith to the Pearl court and let them deal with him. They hate JRB with a cold passion and I think they will deal with him.’
‘Okay.’
To his credit, Fleet was hearing her out. It was a plan involving kidnapping and cold-blooded murder, but all he was doing was waiting patiently for her to elaborate. Probably for the part where she explained that it was a bait and switch and she wasn’t really going to deliver a man to his almost-certain death. ‘And I’m going to use Maddie to help me do it.’
Fleet remained calm. ‘What makes you think she will help you?’
‘She hates him as much as I do. And I will tell her that I’m going to work with her. She wants a partnership so I think she’ll do this to prove to me that she’s serious about that. That I can trust her.’
‘I don’t think she cares about being a good partner,’ Fleet said.
Lydia knew there was truth in that, but she was pretty sure she knew that there was something else. ‘She’s lonely. She’s sick of being alone. She wants a companion.’
‘What makes you think she wants you?’
‘She thinks we’re the same. She’s too narcissistic to want to be with anybody except her own reflection. She seems to think I’m close enough.’
‘But you’re not.’
Lydia shrugged. She wasn’t sure whether she agreed with Fleet. They were both Crows, they were both killers. Maddie was insane, but she wasn’t stupid. There were similarities. Instead of voicing this to Fleet, she said, ‘I can act the part for long enough to get her on board.’
‘Then what? Maddie is the problem, not Smith. She’s not listening to his orders anymore. If your plan works and you get rid of Smith, you’ve still got Maddie to deal with.’
This was the tricky bit. She couldn’t have Fleet guess her plan or he would try to stop her. ‘I think there’s a good chance it will give her closure. And then she’ll leave and go back to her contract work. It’s not like the service won’t be happy to keep her on the books. She’s certainly effective.’
He looked doubtful. ‘She went rogue. She killed her handler and then, if this plan works, an MI6 agent.’
‘Sinclair says Mr Smith is on his own and out of favour. They might be happy for a quick solution. And from what I have gathered, talented assassins don’t grow on trees.’ She winced as the image of Sergio Bastos swinging from one jumped into her mind. ‘I mean, I think they would be willing to keep her in work. She’s a valuable asset to the service.’
He nodded. ‘That’s true. It’s a bit of a gamble, though.’
‘You traded with them, what do you think they’ll do?’
Fleet’s brow furrowed as he considered the question. ‘I think they’ll close the files on your Family and roll Smith’s department into an existing one.’
Lydia nodded. ‘It’s settled the
n.’
* * *
Auntie’s flat was quiet when she knocked and Lydia hoped there wouldn’t be visitors and dogs this time. She wanted to speak to Fleet’s aunt in private.
Lydia was just about to press the bell for a second time, when the door swung inward. Auntie looked unsurprised but not especially happy to see her. ‘I brought alcohol.’ Lydia raised the carrier bag in her hand.
‘I don’t drink,’ Auntie said, but she stepped back and motioned for Lydia to enter the flat.
‘It’s for me,’ Lydia said, toeing off her trainers.
‘You had better come through.’
If the last visit had been a formal affair with teacups and comfy seating, this time Auntie was all business. She led the way to the small kitchen and got two small glasses down from a cupboard. She put them on the cream Formica drop-leaf table and sat down on the matching chair. Lydia unscrewed the bottle and poured them both a generous measure before sitting in the other chair. The room was dominated by an old-fashioned dresser, overflowing with mismatched china, and the open shelving above the sink was lined with handmade-looking pottery and houseplants. If she reached out an arm she could almost touch the sink, and she wondered how Auntie managed to work in the room without knocking things over.
‘Is this a goodbye?’ Auntie said taking the offered glass of single malt.
Lydia felt her eyes prickle with sudden tears. There was a gleam about the woman, just like Fleet’s, and she had to struggle to keep her emotions in check. She realised that she wanted to lean into this prickly and unwelcoming woman and have her hold her and stroke her hair, tell her everything was going to be all right. Although it wasn’t. Not for her. She raised her glass. ‘Yes.’
Auntie raised her glass in answer and drained it in one.
Lydia followed suit and then refilled both glasses. ‘I thought you didn’t drink.’
‘That was before I saw your purpose,’ Auntie said. ‘Occasions like this, they demand it. And you brought the good stuff.’
She wondered how much of Fleet’s gift Auntie shared and how much she knew. Or had guessed.
‘You’re doing the right thing, child.’
Lydia blinked several times to stop herself from crying and drained her glass. The whisky burned her throat and warmed her chest and, most importantly, reminded her that she wasn’t the type to dissolve in a stranger’s kitchen. No matter what the circumstances.
She squared her shoulders. ‘I want you to pass a message to Fleet for me. Ignatius.’
Auntie nodded. ‘You’re not coming back.’
‘No. I don’t think so.’ Lydia had tried to write a letter for Fleet, something to explain to him what she had done and why she had done it. She had tried to find the words, but it had been too hard. Now, sitting opposite Auntie she wondered why she had thought giving a verbal message would be easier.
‘What do you want him to know?’
Lydia swallowed. ‘That I didn’t have a choice. This was the safest way. The way to make sure he was safe. And Emma. And my parents. I had to be sure.’
Auntie nodded. ‘Anything else?’
‘Just that I love him. And I’m sorry I couldn’t think of a better way.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Finding Maddie turned out to be the easiest part of the plan as she responded to Lydia’s first overture. Lydia had sent a message to what she hoped was still her phone, promising something of ‘mutual benefit’. A text message invited her to ‘come and play’ with an address. And a random Bill Murray gif.
Lydia made her way to the address in Belgravia which turned out to be a five-star hotel with a smoked glass frontage and an abundance of planters overflowing with lush greenery. Maddie messaged as she approached the front steps with the words ‘garden terrace’. Lydia wondered if Maddie was watching from a balcony using her sniper scope. She felt her skin prickling. Here she was again walking toward Maddie when she ought to be flying away.
Maddie was sitting on a low sofa in the corner of the terrace, surrounded with flowers and lush trellises. The retractable roof was pulled back to reveal the blue sky and spring sunshine and the air was scented with jasmine. She was sipping from a pale pink cocktail, which had a matching partner on the table.
‘Drink up.’
Lydia eyed the cocktail. It had probably cost more than she spent on food in a week, but might also have a nasty surprise. She tried to see if there were visible crystals in the bottom of the glass or powder on the rim.
‘Oh, give me strength.’ Maddie swiped the glass and took a long drink from it, wiping away the lipstick mark after. ‘There. Now stop hovering. You’re making the staff nervous.’
Lydia sat on a padded velvet chair opposite Maddie. It left her with her back to the entrance but she figured her biggest threat was on the other side of the table. ‘Cheers,’ Lydia said, toasting Maddie before taking a sip of the pink drink. It was sharp and delicious.
‘I was glad you got in touch,’ Maddie said. ‘I was beginning to feel like I was doing all the running in this relationship.’
Lydia decided not to tackle the use of the ‘r’ word. She was pretty sure Maddie wouldn’t kill her in broad daylight in a busy hotel restaurant, but not certain enough to push her luck. Lydia kept her face neutral. ‘I wanted to talk. To find out what you want.’
Maddie fluttered her eyelashes. ‘You care about me. I knew it.’
‘I just want to know if there is anything I can do to speed up your London visit.’
‘I might settle down. London is my home, after all. Maybe I’m tired of living such a reckless life. I look at you and your friend, what’s her name, Emma? And that handsome boyfriend. You’ve built a nice steady life. Makes me wonder what that’s like.’
Lydia felt sick. Just hearing Emma’s name in Maddie’s voice set every nerve jangling. She had to keep Maddie distracted and away from Emma and her family. She said the first thing which popped into her mind. A corpse swinging from a tree. ‘It was pretty reckless, killing your handler.’
Maddie frowned. ‘Sergio? Trust me, nobody is grieving that sack of shit.’
‘Was it your idea? Or an off-the-books commission?’
‘Everything I do is off the books,’ Maddie leaned back and prodded the crushed ice of her cocktail with the stirrer. ‘And I’m very happy with that. They love my work and they pay me well for it.’
She was lying, Lydia realised. She wanted something else. Recognition? ‘You killed your handler, I would have thought even secret ops aren’t keen on that kind of thing.’
Maddie shrugged. ‘I’ve not heard any complaints.’
‘That’s because they haven’t found you, yet. When they do…’
Maddie smiled. ‘I’m not losing sleep over it. And I never liked him. He was rude.’
Lydia wanted to say that it didn’t seem like enough to warrant being murdered and hung from a tree, but there was a fervent glow in Maddie’s eyes.
‘Fine. You want the truth?’
Lydia resisted the urge to say ‘this will be good’ and just nodded.
‘I fancied a change.’
‘Of handler?’
‘No, I wanted out. I thought it was going to be so different, but it was just like being back here. Some old man telling me what to do. But it’s not that easy to stop working for them, you know? You understand. You had to do the same thing with Charlie. You have to do something definitive, it’s the only thing people like that understand. They weren’t just going to rip up my contract and wish me a happy retirement. I had to make a statement.’
Lydia was pretty sure that the order to kill her had come from Mr Smith but she didn’t know if Maddie knew that. If she had a handler before, filtering the information, she might not have known the difference between on-the-books orders from MI6 and Mr Smith’s pet project. ‘But then they sent you,’ Lydia caught herself before she said ‘orders’. ‘Information direct? Didn’t you think that was odd? After you’d made it clear you weren’t working for t
hem anymore?’
Maddie shrugged. ‘I told you, already. I’m too valuable to them. I got a text. It was a job and I was in London already so I went to do it. I had made my point, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t open to renegotiating terms.’
‘But it was me.’ Lydia stopped herself before she did something truly stupid, like pointing out that by failing to kill her, Maddie was blotting her own copybook, again.
‘But it was you,’ Maddie raised her glass in salute, her expression suddenly grim.
Ice poured down her spine. ‘Are you going to kill me?’
Maddie stared for a long moment, unsmiling. Then she took a sip of her cocktail. ‘Not today.’
Lydia worked hard on keeping her breathing even, keeping hold of the fear that was lapping at the edges of her mind. She forced herself to take a sip of her own drink, to mirror Maddie’s movements in the hopes it would build some kind of rapport. ‘So, what’s next for you?’
‘I go freelance. No handler.’
‘Don’t you need contacts for that?’
‘What makes you think I don’t have contacts?’
‘Nothing,’ Lydia said quickly. Everything about Maddie was a performance, but the flash of anger was real. Maddie definitely wanted to be seen as smart and capable and in control. Then it hit Lydia… Maddie wanted her to be impressed. She tried to think about what Maddie wanted to hear. But that she wouldn’t see through immediately. ‘It’s just I struggled with that… When I started my business. I didn’t know anybody, and it was hard to build a client list.’
‘Is that why you took the job from Uncle Charlie?’
‘Partly,’ Lydia said, truthfully enough. ‘I did need the work.’
‘I suppose I can forgive that,’ Maddie said. ‘Besides. It’s in the past. I’m not hanging onto the old ways, I’m looking to the future. I’ve had my chakras aligned and I’m ready for the new me.’
The Shadow Wing Page 17
