Take A Thousand Cuts

by TERESA HUNTER

  “A cover-up? And you didn’t have the appropriate visa?”

  Julia nodded.

  “D’you have a visa now?”

  “Yes, I do. It came through a couple of days ago.”

  “Good, that’s the reason I wanted to see you – to ask you to go back and try again.”

  Julia belched out a belly laugh, stunned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve a job to do here. We’re in the middle of a meltdown. This is where I belong.”

  He took a telescope of papers from his pocket and unrolled them before her on the table.

  He hasn’t heard me, she thought. Or doesn’t want to.

  “I ran off a few internal reports on that region,” he continued. “We too have our contacts. If Laura’s still in China, she’s at grave risk. The numbers are far higher than the Government acknowledges, trebling each day. She needs to get out.”

  “If she can.”

  “Exactly. China’s becoming more draconian as it attempts to silence critics and stories about its mishandling of the crisis.”

  “With all due respect Mr Silverman, we know all this. It just doesn’t have anything to do with me. Honestly, I wish you luck with your search. You could go yourself, or you can afford to pay people, professional rescue teams who extract expats from dangerous areas. It’s not my problem.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hopkins enter the bar and sit at a table at the other end. He waved an acknowledgement in her direction. She ignored him.

  Silverman was speaking again. “I’m afraid it’s about to become your problem. You’ve been too busy to keep an eye on stock exchange share transaction notices. My fund made a large purchase at 9am. Technically, I’m now controlling director of the Square Mile – the title you mainly write for. We had a small stake. When prices plunged, it was too juicy a prospect not to buy more.”

  Julia’s jaw dropped so far and so fast, she thought it might smash the table.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of interfering editorially – unless I have to −”

  His meaning was clear.

  “I’m a freelance.”

  “Yes I know that. I also know you care very much about children. Find Laura, and I’ll give you £10 million to donate to any children’s charity of your choice. ”

  “This is blackmail,” she blinked rapidly. “Twice over.”

  He smiled, and this time a kindly glint twinkled in his eyes.

  “I just want you to understand I’m serious. You asked why I can’t go or send someone else. I honestly don’t believe she would come. You’re like her in some ways. You remind me of her. You already have good contacts in Hong Kong. You’ll be fleet of foot and move under the radar. Most important of all, I think you might be able to persuade her to leave.”

  You must love her very much.

  Julia watched Alek Jakov join Hopkins at the table. She laughed. Good luck punting that story again, she thought.

  “You find me amusing?” Silverman looked puzzled.

  “No, not at all, I’m sorry, something else caught my eye.”

  “So will you go?”

  She evaded his question.

  “Have you heard anything from Chandler?”

  “I’m really sorry. I haven’t seen him for it must be...” he paused, thinking before adding “…well over a year.”

  “Have you spoken to Rebecca?”

  “We were never close.”

  “If you’re so worried about Laura, why are you so unconcerned about Stephen?” He didn’t respond. “I knew him you know. Liked him. Why haven’t you hired a private eye to look for him – for old time’s sake?”

  She noticed Hopkins go to the bar.

  “Will you excuse me please?” she said to Silverman. Getting up, she headed in Hopkins’ direction.

  Beside him at the bar, she said, “Look, I know we’ve not been mates, but I should warn you about Alek. He’s a bullshitter. Don’t touch any of his stuff.”

  “He’s just given me a fantastic story.”

  “Not this Bank of England garbage.”

  She saw a flash of recognition in his eye.

  So it is the Bank of England tip? Surely even Hopkins can’t be stupid enough to fall for that?

  “Honestly, for once I’m trying to be a friend. At least wait until Ludgate gets back.”

  “I think I know how to judge a story. Keep your nose out of my business.”

  He turned in a huff and headed back to Alek – carrying two glasses.

  Julia leaned on her elbows across the bar for a moment. Why is the world suddenly so crazy, she thought.

  She returned to Silverman, and sat bolt upright in her chair.

  “OK I’ll do it. I’ll need a few days to get things sorted this end.”

  He released a long slow breath.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I had to come on heavy like this. But Laura is special.”

  Oh yes, that’s one message I got loud and clear.

  CODY BOUNCED up wide steps at the colonnaded main entrance to the British Museum.

  “Map Sir?” an attendant approached, offering him one.

  Cody grinned. “Thank you, but I don’t need a map to find my way round here.”

  School in Southwark meant termly trips. His heart leapt as he stepped inside the cathedral-like arena – the closest he would ever get to the inside of a church. He loved its very smell. Moving briskly past retail outlets selling mummy pencil cases, Lewis chessmen, Viking rubber ducks and Trojan war shields, he walked to the rear of the gallery and the security office.

  He waited a few moments to be admitted by a techy-type who introduced himself as Will, and led Cody through to the office.

  “I think this is what you’re looking for.” Will handed him a still shot from the CCTV of Lee having a coffee with another man.

  “The time of this one is 10.45am.”

  He pushed a second still across the desk.

  “As you see, his companion stayed on for lunch, when he was joined by a second man. Does this help?”

  Cody took a deep qi gong breath to calm his excitement. He exhaled slowly as he had learned in his Tai Chi classes.

  “Can I look at the tape?” he asked.

  “Of course, it might make things clearer.”

  It didn’t take long to pull up the relevant sections. “Crystal clear and no mistake,” he said, mainly to himself.

  CHAPTER 31

  JULIA’S HEAD spun as she trotted back to the office, down Cornhill, over London Bridge, across Tooley Street. I’m absolutely trapped, she thought, a knot forming hard in her stomach. How could he? What an absolute bastard!

  The first thing she did once back at her desk was check the Square Mile’s share price. “Huckleberry Finn!” she exclaimed to an empty room. At one point that morning, the paper’s share price had literally touched 1p. “That’s when he struck. Any of us could have bought the damn thing. Look how it bounced!”

  She wanted to speak urgently to Ludgate, but he was on his way to New York. So she settled for an email. She hit send as her line rang.

  “That was quick,” she said. But it wasn’t Ludgate. She immediately recognised Rebecca Withers, Chandler’s wife.

  “I’ve made a discovery. I don’t know what to do about it. I need advice.” She sounded anxious. “Could we meet?”

  “Sure. Shall I come to you?”

  “The Fashion and Textile Museum is across the road from you, isn’t it? How about there at 2pm?”

  Julia checked the clock on her screen. It was 1.25pm. Enough time to gather her thoughts and maybe grab a bite.

  “I’ll be there.”

  She skipped downstairs to the deli to buy a sandwich, but Mr Bardetti insisted he put together a healthy salad for her. He had a rare talent for stirring the stomach juices with exquisite cheese, parma ham, herring flakes, artichokes, black olives and dried tomatoes.

  “You gotta start eating right – or you’ll be old before your time. Which dressing you want? Tuscany, Moden
a, Napolitana, Venetian?”

  “You choose!” Julia was bemused at the proliferation of bottles for salad dressing on the counter – all home made. He handed over the lunch.

  “Thank you Mr Bardetti – you’re good to me.”

  “I’m good to all my customers, but some are more special than others. What I do if you move out? You’re my best, most considerate tenant.”

  “Don’t worry we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Good and tell your young man, I’ve something special for him, when he gets back for lunch too.”

  “I will,” she said, heading back upstairs.

  He’s right, Julia thought. I need to take better care of myself.

  She switched off her screen, removed all distractions, sat back in her chair and calmly enjoyed his delicious salad. When she finished, she scrawled a note for Cody, and headed out across the road. Office workers and mums with pushchairs dotted the grass in Tanner Street Gardens opposite. Toddlers ran crazily in the sunshine. How I love this scene, she thought.

  She found Rebecca at the exhibition of Designs from the Swinging Sixties, staring at a mannequin modelling a Mary Quant orange mini-dress.

  She looks lost, Julia thought. “These prints are so familiar aren’t they?” she said, shuffling alongside Rebecca.

  “Familiar. Yet not of our age,” Rebecca nodded. “Backcloth to our childhoods – Mum's dresses and pinafores.”

  She moved to the next stand and pointed at a textile display.

  “This fabric is still on sale at John Lewis – amazing.”

  “So new and so timeless.”

  “They wanted a fresh start after the war,” Rebecca bit her lip. “Sweep away the past. Think we’ll manage it so easily?”

  A video montage of newsreel replayed scenes from the swinging 60s – Profumo scandal, Bay of Pigs, Martin Luther King, Vietnam war. These were interspersed with showbiz clips of the Beatles, the Stones, Jim Morrison. Julia looked round. They were alone. No one else cared about fashions of the past or this gem of a museum, tucked away off the beaten track.

  A bench was positioned in front of the video. “Shall we sit?” Julia suggested.

  They sat in silence watching the Sixties video and its walk down memory lane.

  When Rebecca spoke, her tone was dead and lifeless.”I wanted to see you...” flickering shadows from the moving pictures flashed across her face.

  “There's no news about Stephen, I take it?”

  “No Julia. With everything that's going on, he's become old news.”

  “I'm sorry. I've neglected you.”

  Julia’s eye fell on Rebecca’s manicured fingers. Two of the nails were broken.

  “I found something,” Rebecca started scrabbling in her bag. “I tore the place apart looking for a clue. Then I found this.”

  She held up a cheap-looking phone.

  “It’s a burner. Pushed right to the back of a drawer under our bed. I thought it was an old phone discarded ages ago. When I looked closer, I realised Stephen was running a second phone, that couldn’t be traced back to him.”

  Julia narrowed her eyes. I have a bad feeling about this, she thought.

  As if reading her mind, Rebecca said, “No, it’s not another woman. My first thought too, although I couldn’t believe it.”

  “You found the pass code?”

  “Not too difficult. We’ve been together a long time.”

  Julia waited for her to continue.

  “He started using it a few days before his disappearance. Only a few calls, and the numbers don’t mean anything to me. But the texts tell a different story. He arranged to meet Adam Lee at the British Museum for coffee the day he disappeared.”

  Julia blinked in surprise. “I see. Can I take a look?”

  Rebecca handed her the phone and Julia switched through the text trail. No mistake. They made a firm arrangement to meet at the museum.

  “Now I think about it, I remembered he mentioned Adam Lee out of the blue the week he disappeared. I wasn’t really listening. He muttered something at breakfast about that crackpot Adam Lee.”

  “Doesn’t sound as though he liked him, I wonder why he agreed to meet up.”

  “The last day I saw Stephen,” Rebecca’s lip trembled.

  “And the day Lee died.”

  “It must be a coincidence mustn’t it? How could they be connected?”

  “Let’s walk a bit,” Julia said. The screen flashed scenes of screaming Beatles fans as the pop icons arrived at J F K Airport.

  On the left they passed a collection of Mary Quant’s plastic alligator and banana split mini-dresses.

  On the right Terence Conran’s iconic cone chair, along with sundry other Chelsea-set furniture.

  “Why meet up? Were they friends?” Julia asked.

  “No. I’m sure they weren’t. Must’ve been business.”

  “Stephen did business with First State?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I doubt it. From what I’ve read it’s not the sort of outfit Stephen would touch. Hong Kong, yes of course. They ran one of the biggest book of Asian Tiger funds. I know he spoke to his old boss Warwick Mantel regularly. I’m pretty sure they had dealings. Perhaps he met Lee to catch up on Asia?”

  Julia stopped before a space-age silver dress and a bond-girl mini with pull-string zipper running from top to bottom.

  What I’d give to rip down the zipper on this whole mess, and see what’s going on underneath, Julia thought.

  Instead she said, “After this meeting one of them is dead. And the other...”

  “Vanished.” Rebecca’s eyes moistened with tears.

  “You’re tired,” Julia said. “Are you sleeping?” Rebecca shook her head.

  “We’ll have to tell the police.”

  “Could you see to that for me? It’s embarrassing, humiliating, me being a lawyer.”

  Julia nodded. “I’ll call them as soon as I get back to the office. You may not hear from me for a few days. I’m going to Hong Kong. If you need anything while I’m away call the office. My assistant Cody is a good lad. He’ll help you.”

  “Hong Kong?”

  “Know Patrick Silverman?” Julia changed the subject.

  “A bit. He and Stephen were close when they were younger. Less so once I came on the scene. I was never very keen on him. Had a friend who...” she stopped herself. “That doesn’t matter now.”

  “Once a heel always a heel,” Julia raised her eyebrows. “I’m beginning to see.”

  “Why are you going?”

  “Various reasons. Silverman wants me to track down another former colleague, Laura Wan Sun. Thinks she might be able to shed light on what happened to Lee and your husband.”

  Rebecca’s face brightened. “Ah, Laura,” she said. “Truly special person. One of nature’s magic people. Pure saint.”

  Julia’s brow darkened. If one more person tells me how wonderful Laura is, I’ll start to hate her.

  “Look Rebecca, I need to get back and call the police. Are you OK?”

  Rebecca nodded. “I think I’ll stay a while longer. It’s peaceful here. There’s nothing to rush home for.”

  “OK, if you’re sure,” Julia smiled, adding, “You take care of yourself. If you need anything call me or Cody. The police will be in contact to help very soon I’m sure.”

  Julia turned back to look at Rebecca as she reached the door.

  A lost soul, she repeated to herself, hiding in a world that’s gone.

  AN EMAIL FROM Ludgate was waiting for her when she returned to the office.

  Should have told you. Heard the news about the buyout on the trip over. He’s a fund manager. He buys and sells all the time. Our price crashed and he got lucky. We’ll bounce, he’ll take his profit and get straight out. Don’t sweat it, but yes, for the time being he’s our boss. It’s OK with me if you want to go back to Hong Kong for a few days, but we need stories every day.

  Julia made a noise like a strangled cat, after reading the message. She
reached across the desk, grabbed her phone and started dialling Chief Inspector Pitcher.

  “Ah, it’s Lois Lane. How are we today?”

  “Puzzled, but I have some information I think you’ll want.”

  “How did young Cody get on at the British Museum?”

  “I don’t know, he’s not back yet. While we’re on that subject, can you please not use my staff as errand boys.”

  “Sorry, he’s a bright boy. I’m not sure you’re making the most of his talents.”

  “Like you do your PCs?”

  “That’s not fair. We’re the police force. They’re not allowed to have fun. Serious business. Why d’you call?”

  “I don’t need to see the CCTV, I know who Lee met that fateful morning.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve just been with Rebecca. She found a burner phone hidden at home. The text trail points to Stephen Chandler meeting Lee at 10.30am at the British Museum.”

  “Why? They aren’t connected?”

  “It seems they are. The connection lies in Hong Kong. I’m heading back there in a day or so.”

  “I’ve warned you already. Hong Kong’s a dangerous place.”

  “Isn’t London?”

  “In London I can protect you.”

  “Your new best friend Cody will hold the fort. Look after him for me will you?”

  “It’ll be a pleasure.”

  Julia replaced the receiver as Cody burst puffing into the office. His jaw line was set hard, but his eyes burned bright.

  “You’ll never believe who’s captured on the British Museum’s CCTV?”

  “Stephen Chandler. I’ve just left Rebecca.”

  “Well done, you got there first. But there’s more.”

  “Go on –”

  “Who did Chandler have lunch with after Lee had gone?”

  Julia had no idea.

  “It could be anyone. His partners, lawyers, anyone.”

  “Take a deep breath,” Cody said, putting a copy of a still of the CCTV on her desk.

  She stared at it for a few seconds, unbelieving, then picked up a pen and threw it across the room.

  “You bastard, you lied,” she screeched.