Princes Gate is a long, terraced row of stucco fronted Victorian properties that were built around the time of the Great Exhibition. A time when Britannia literally ruled the waves.
Number 47B had it all; beautifully built, when craftsmen were cherished, exquisitely furnished and perfect for hosting dinner parties, followed by drinks in the charming roof top garden. If guests were so inclined, they could hurl a stone through the window of the nearby Jamaican High Commission.
A further stone’s throw away was the Afghani Embassy, the Ethiopian Embassy and the infamous Iranian Embassy, where over the course of six days in 1980 an Arab group of six gunmen had taken the building and its occupants, including a solitary police constable hostage.
What followed was to become the wake-up call to the city, and for the people of Britain a new term, the SAS. The Special Air Service had planned, plotted, practised and carried out an incredible raid on what was technically foreign soil. In seventeen swift and brutal minutes Operation Nimrod had ended and the team had recaptured the embassy, killing five of the six gunmen and rescuing all but one hostage.
As Adaeze was escorted up the first flight of stairs an observer could easily be forgiven for thinking that the area had always been as peaceful, so opulent and drowning in wealth.
And it was only with such obscene wealth that one could afford such a property. A short walk from Hyde Park and the Royal Albert Hall this beautiful home actually belonged to someone else.
She had no idea who and frankly cared very little. Her money was as good as anyone else’s and she ensured that the rent had been paid upfront. Seventeen thousand pounds. Per week. No questions asked.
She had rented it for a month.
That was all she needed.
Twelve people, give or take one every other day, that would leave her time to sightsee and shop.
The clock had started earlier that morning and she already had found one of the dozen. Eleven left, time to dine.
“Shall we eat?” The dark-skinned woman smiled a dazzling smile. There were no gaps in her teeth and the scarification was subtle in places, hidden in others. She was tall, slender but with a strength that exuded from her every pore.
“Please, eat. We have time to talk later. We have much time to catch up on. Much time indeed.” She flashed a smile. She leant forward, took a bread roll, her blouse gaped revealing perfectly shaped breasts, criss-crossed with old wounds and nestling in the centre, perfectly sitting in amongst her cleavage a large diamond.
“Do you like it Adaeze?” She held it up between her thumb and forefinger.
“Yes. It is very beautiful. But I have everything I need. Thank you.”
“You know who I am don’t you?”
“Of course. I am not foolish; I knew that foul-smelling woman out there was not my sister. And please tell your men next time they try to strangle me I will kill them.” She was defiant. She knew it counted.
“Stop. One moment. They tried to strangle you?” A look of genuine alarm. “Which one?”
She pointed to the hired-thugs that lined the back wall of the panelled dining room. The one picking on a chicken leg was identified.
“Come here.” Her index finger drew him in like dust to a shaft of sunlight.
He placed the half-eaten leg onto a dish. “Yes boss. What is it?”
“Is it true that you harmed our guest?” She knew it was. She had decreed it.
“Well, I didn’t harm her, let us just say I just got her attention.” He smiled an incredible smile, confidence overrunning, his arms, sinewy and muscular, a broad set of shoulders and an inset diamond in his front tooth that added to his menacing appearance.
The woman stood. She was almost as tall as her bodyguard.
“Step forward.”
He did, he was looking forward to the award of extra cash or a gift. The watch he wore was the last. He cherished it.
“The watch please.”
He looked at her. “Boss?”
“The watch. Now.”
He unclipped the security bracelet and lowered the black-faced Tag into her outstretched hand. She smiled. He smiled back. She edged the watch onto her knuckles then lowering herself struck him squarely in the groin, then drove her fist up into his jaw, shattering the prized tooth, sending the gemstone skipping across the tiled floor. It spun to a halt under an antique sideboard. Once a blood diamond.
He was doubled over, squealing like a car engine on a freezing cold morning. His eyes watered. Collapsing onto his knees, he was unable to speak or breathe.
“I just wanted to get your attention.”
She motioned to the remaining staff members.
“Take what you want of his and see to it that he leaves the house tonight.” She held his bleeding jaw in her hand. “No one treats my guests like that. Do I make myself clear?”
No one replied. They knew the answer. And the former employee knew to never look back, say nothing, to no one.
She took Adaeze’s hand. “Come, you must be tired. Time for you to see your room.”
They reached the en suite room overlooking the parkland. She ran the bath, adding something luxurious from a crystal bottle.
She locked the door.
“But first, you must need a bath my dear. It’s been a long day. I always enjoy one, especially in such a beautiful house like this. And this one is big enough for two.” She began to undress. “We have so much to catch up on.”
The taller woman began to slip out of her underwear, kicked it into a corner, oblivious to the fact that the other woman was a perfect stranger and still very obviously dressed.
Yet despite being almost naked the younger woman’s confidence was sky-high. She caught a glimpse of her body in the over-sized mirror; it was exquisite. Athletic, honed, toned, chiselled almost. She evidently worked out. Her abdominals were clearly apparent, her legs were muscular, yet somehow would have looked sensational in heels. Dark, shining brown skin wrapped around muscles. Skin that looked as it were naturally oiled.
Adaeze stood and stared at the hybrid of athlete and actress. Now naked, sat on the edge of the pure-white bath, flitting her hands back and forth to create more foam.
“I won’t ask again Adaeze. We can do it the nice way…”
Adaeze looked at herself in the same mirror. What had led to this? Was this the end? Had her days always been leading up to this one moment? So many questions. She heard herself swallow hard, then, as if she were under the spell of the woman they called the Mamba she began to undress.
“Do you need me to help?” The younger woman was only missing a darting forked tongue. She was beautifully sinister.
“No. I am fine thank you.” She placed her bra onto the marbled floor and stood to reveal the same criss-crossed scarring. Her breasts were large and shapely and shone in the bright lighting of the all-white bathroom.
“Keep going Adaeze. We don’t want the water to get cold, do we?”
“I’m sorry but this is not normal.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stood fast. Her bare feet feeling the underfloor heating.
The younger woman left the bath side and walked behind the doctor and in a moment as swift as a mother ripping a plaster from a child had pulled her knickers down to the floor.
“Now, come and join me.” She put a hand into Adaeze’s back and led her to the bath. She motioned for her to get in. The pure white enamel made the beauty of their skin even more apparent. Adaeze sat and faced the tiled wall, seeing a white reflection staring back at her. The bathroom was immaculate, as if it had never been used before.
The girl they called the Mamba lowered herself down into the deep water behind the doctor and wrapped her legs around her waist. Adaeze could feel her smooth hairless skin against her own. She was warm – unlike her cold-blooded namesake.
Streams of warm water began to run down across her shoulders, across her breasts and into the bath once more. The younger woman was skilled and would have made a fine partner to a man looking for a
night of debauched adventure.
“Is that nice?”
She couldn’t answer.
“Friend, I asked you a question.”
“Friends don’t do this.”
“Those that love each other do.” She squeezed her fingers into the natural sponge, allowing the water to tease the older woman, who sat transfixed.
“Let me wash your hair.” She poured shampoo into her hands, rubbed them together, then lovingly ran her fingers through the long brown woven hair, washing and rinsing until it squeaked its cleanliness.
She lifted her right foot to the tap and turned it on, skilfully using her long toes. Hot water ran out and began to fill the tub.
“Have you missed me?”
“I can’t answer that, for I don’t know you. I’m sorry but this is wrong…”
“No!” The voice was more dominant now. “It is very right. I was left in a bush so that you could head to a better life. That was wrong. But now we are back together.” She ran the tip of her index finger around a small mark on the doctor’s neck.
“This scar is not normal for our people. It looks like a lock. Where did it come from Adaeze? Tell me.”
“I can’t remember.”
She ran her hands across the back of the doctor’s neck, pressing down into the collar bones then up and over her cheek bones then slowly back down, over her shoulders, pausing, then lower over her breasts, circling her fingers.
“Do you like that?”
“No. I do not. Please stop.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“I will fight you. If I have to. You should explain why I am here, then let me go.”
“OK, have it your way.” She released the grip slightly, lowered her legs into the water.
“You have something I need. And now I have seen it I don’t need to anymore. But I needed you to be naked for me to see it.”
“But you could have just done that. We didn’t need to do this.” She shuddered, as if someone had stepped onto her grave.
“But I like this. I normally choose one of my team to wash me, if they are really lucky, they get to do more than that. But always in this bath. It is so beautiful, the reflections are subtle, the lighting perfect, and being in the centre of this lovely old building it is soundproofed.”
“What did you see?” She was trying her best to remain calm.
“I saw the padlock. You know about these?”
“Only that I have one. I don’t know how it got there. I don’t know what it means.”
“In itself it is just a picture. A simple lock carved into the space between your shoulders, where it is very hard for you to see. The man that carved it there did it to help him in the future. He called it a map. I call it a treasure map.” She laughed, her laughter echoing in the large, vaulted-ceiling room.
“So now you have seen what you need. Please let me get dressed. Perhaps let me go?” She looked at the reflection in the pristine tiles. Two faces staring back at her. The water was still running, hotter than ever, the bubbles began to rise.
“Relax. Let me show you that this can be a wonderful thing to do. Come on, relax, that’s it. Trust me.” She almost hissed the last words.
Adaeze felt herself being pushed down slightly, into a more relaxed position, deeper into the sparkling blue water. The bath was enormous.
The woman leant back slightly, pressed a button and initiated the spa bath. The nozzles came to life, pushing water forcibly through and into the bath, raising the fizzing suds higher.
“Now isn’t that just lovely?”
She relaxed for a second. “Yes. I guess it is.” Better to keep her on side whilst avoiding the Stockholm Syndrome tendency.
“So good that you have finally relaxed.” She wrapped her long brown legs around the older woman’s hips, squeezed gently, pushed her hands up under her arms and held onto her scarred breasts, feeling each ridge with her fingertips. She was aroused now, her own breasts becoming firmer, she pushed her hips into the doctor’s, squirming now, moaning gently.
“No, this is not right. Please.”
As a crocodile smothers its prey the younger woman followed suit. Her legs were incredibly strong, rolling the doctor onto her side. The water continued to flow, deeper, hotter, more foam. The pumps shielded any sound. Not that anyone was listening. Not that anyone cared.
She began to struggle, now free from her terrified hypnosis. Pushing back with all her might it only sought to arouse the younger woman who turned her again, forcing her under the water, lying on top of her, pushing herself against her, holding her, with immense strength.
Then she let her go.
Adaeze shot up and out of the water, but the younger woman was stronger, and smiling now, loving every moment. The two faces were back, reflected in the white tiles.
“I told you to relax…so, relax!”
Then she turned her again, back under the water. She thrashed around now, barely recovered from the last attempt to drown her.
‘It cannot end like this.’ She reached out, trying to grab at something, anything, a weapon, she needed a weapon. But all her hands found were smooth skin, smoother enamel and water. She was tiring now.
Up and out of the water, pulled back, into the Mamba’s chest, held tight.
“Breathe doctor. I’ve got you. You need the air to fill your lungs.”
She inhaled in huge panicked gulps. On the third, with exquisite timing the most-feared woman in West Africa slipped under the water herself, dragging Adaeze beneath the surface. Her legs and arms wrapped around her, a parasite dragging the last pockets of air from her.
She could hear the bloody woman laughing.
Baki was actually enjoying this. She held her own breath. Opened her eyes, smiled, enjoyed every moment. The jets continued to force the water into the tub, masking the noise of the captive. The snake held its breath. Water spilled over the brim of the strikingly white bath. The prey let go, weaker now, choking, fighting to the end, but weaker, much weaker.
No one would know what the last thoughts of Doctor Adaeze were. But they were only of one man. She just hoped he lived long enough to save the others.
The younger woman came up out of the water, gasping for air. Then pushed her prisoner down, deeper into the bath, looking at the padlock, carved into her back as it revealed itself beneath the churning liquid.
Adaeze willed herself to survive. Just like she had been taught. She found herself alone, in the river, lowered there by the Irishman.
‘Swim girl, swim’ He had shouted, but now all she could do was wait to die.
Lifting the drowning woman’s head up out of the water her murderer felt triumphant, aroused, excited. Adaeze’s body was lifeless but her heart was still beating.
“My name is Doto.”
She sucked in air. She knew she could hear her words.
“And it means the second-born. And I am very much your sister. You should never have left me to die. It was nice knowing you doctor. Nice while it lasted.” She twisted, moved into position and placed her knee in between her sister’s shoulder blades and pushed her down into the bath, her face crushed against the enamel, until she finally stopped responding.
She eased herself up onto her feet and stood and looked at the lifeless body, ran her fingertips from the thighs to the head, felt the satin hair between her fingertips. It still squeaked under pressure, cleansed of all its sin.
She shrugged, stepped out of the bath, turned the spa off, wiped her face with a small white towel and walked to the door where she knew her men were listening. She opened it quickly, catching them by surprise.
“I hope you enjoyed the show.” She pointed without looking. “Now go and deal with that, please. I do not want to know how. Just deal with it. Put it somewhere. Remove every part of her that can tell a story.”
She stepped from the warmth of the tiled floor onto the deep, creamy piled carpet and walked naked to her bedroom, leaving a trail of damp footprints behind her.
“And leave her jewellery with me. Take a photograph of her in the bath, and guys, make sure you burn her awful clothes.”
Chapter Nineteen
Roberts’ phoned chirped. “Yep, go ahead Jack.”
“The person we are looking for is known as Baki Maciji.”
“OK. And what do we know about this woman?”
“She’s the Black Mamba. The woman the men and women of the region she is from fear more than the snake she derives her name. And we think she has Adaeze.”
“Proof?”
“Only gut instinct, Jason.”
Roberts knew Cade’s instinct well and if history was to be a judge, it meant an eighty percent chance that he was right.
“Do you know what she looks like?”
“No.”
“You still at the hotel?”
“Yep, myself and Carrie have a room and Tom has another.”
“Why don’t we bring you in?”
“Because in among the less lucid conversations I have been having with Lieutenant Commander Denby, I have also had some startling ones that I believe. And if I am to believe even a tenth of what he saw and remembers then it’s pretty compelling and pretty damning too.”
“Jack we’ve only just finished with one government conspiracy. I’ve not really had a break…”
“Who said anything about the government?”
“Well…”
“You assumed Jason and we know what assuming does, don’t we?”
“Fair point. So, what are we dealing with?”
“I’ll explain in person. Get yourself over here. And Jason…”
“Yep.”
“Come alone. But before you leave, I need you to get a bulletin out about a lady called Adaeze. She’s the woman in the picture I’ve just sent you. I’ve added her bio data, just get your team to run a search in PNC and start looking for her body. And get someone else to run searches for her killer.”
“This Baki, whatever she’s called?”
“Exactly. Any link at all. Let’s get some human source intel on the boil too.”
“Jack, I can’t just launch an investigation that is unfounded. You know that as well as anyone.”
The Angel of Whitehall Page 16
