by Seb Kirby
“We’re back to me being the meat in the sandwich.”
“I told you before, James. Please don’t talk like that. You’re the available option. The family is inaccessible. You’re here. Low hanging fruit. And we’ll be waiting. We’ll get our man. Everyone can go back to living a normal life. You and your wife included.”
“So, if you were going to take the trouble to convince me, why this? Why the rendition?”
“Who called it that? It’s an arrangement about a matter of speed. Speed in getting you in place and making sure that when we put our proposition to you, you’re where it makes sense – not in a few hours or days but right now. We do still have your full attention?”
I nodded. I didn’t like the idea of being used by Craven and I didn’t know if I could trust anything he was saying but he wasn’t offering me much choice. He’d shown he could break any or all of the rules of law as he wished by bringing me here and taking me to Walls Unit in Huntsville. No one should be able to do that, but he’d just done it and would do more if I didn’t co-operate.
He’d threatened the two people that meant the most to me in the world, three, if you counted my son. If I didn’t go along with them Julia would not be protected in London or, worse, there was the insinuation that Craven might decide on some more direct assault on her. If I didn’t play ball, Miles would be banged up in Walls Unit for thirty years.
No, I couldn’t trust Craven but I knew I had to pretend I did and be convincing enough about it for him to believe I was in this for real.
It was the only way I could buy time to seek some way out.
I knew if I was going to convince him that I was now co-operating with him, I had work to do. I should have questions about what he wanted.
“OK. So, why are we saying I’m here?”
He looked up. “You have a cover story. And a cover story for that in case you need it. You’re here as Charles Harrington and you’re a rep for a company producing digital displays. You’re in town to attend the Comicom trade fair here this week. That’s what you tell the hotel staff. We believe you’ll be credible in this role, given your background as a radio producer.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised Craven knew this about me but what he said still jarred. “OK, I can work with that. A nice touch to use Harrington. If they’ve been doing their homework, they may have connected me to the name. So, why am I really here?”
“As James Blake you’ve got hold of information about the family that’s being targeted.”
“And why would that matter to me?”
“Because you think they must have information to help you discover what the Landos have planned for you. This is a way you can protect your wife and child.”
“And why would the family have that information?”
“They don’t. It’s enough you think they do.”
“And why would I think that?”
“Because brother Miles told you and you can trust your brother.”
“How will the operative know I’m here?”
“You can leave that to us.” He sat back. “Remember, you have no public contact with the FBI. You’re on your own as far as anyone from the outside is concerned.”
“But you’ll be watching?”
“Be assured, we’ll be watching your every move. Even while you sleep.”
“So you can be sure of my well being.”
“So we can be sure you keep to your end of the deal. No contact with anyone unless it’s part of the plan. And no contact with your wife or brother. If you do, the deal is off. You understand? The deal goes down. And if the deal goes down?”
“I know. You’ll go straight for Miles and bang him up in Huntsville.”
Craven smiled. “Good to hear we understand each other.”
“Except for one thing. Cruel and inhuman treatment.”
“Sounds like human rights. I thought we understood we were beyond that here.”
I couldn’t let this pass, not if there was a way of letting Julia know I was alive. “Cruel and inhuman treatment of my wife, Julia. Think about it. She has no idea where I am. As far as she knows I fell off the planet when you picked me up on the way to Charing Cross. Think how she’s feeling. What harm would it do to give her just one call?”
Craven took his time. “I knew you’d ask that. Cruel and inhuman, huh? I guess no-one wants that on their headstone.”
“And?”
“I don’t like it, but I’ll help you out. We followed you to your hotel in London before we picked you off the street. So we know where your wife is. She’s under our surveillance and protection, just like I told you. She’s safe and you have nothing to worry about on that score. I’ll send an instruction for one of the team there to let your wife know you’re safe and you’re with us. And then you stick to the plan. You got that?”
“I’ve got it.”
I didn’t believe him but it was important he thought I did.
Nothing had changed what I was aching for – to let Julia know I was alive and to hear that she was safe.
Chapter 38
Back at the hotel, Miles updated Julia on progress with her request for a passport. “I made some calls while you were visiting Peggy Westland. I should have something by this evening. A guy in Wapping is on the case. His work is the best anybody’s seen.”
Julia thanked him. “That should keep the hotel manager happy, though he seems to have gone quiet about it. Maybe that’s a good sign.”
“Best to get him the ID to be sure.”
Miles’ phone rang. It was Adam Weston. “Do you have anything yet?”
Weston’s voice was hard to pick out against a swell of background conversation. “I’m on a public phone, you don’t need to know where. I’m getting more convinced they’re on to me.”
‘Who’s on to you?”
“Who else? The FBI. I’m spending too much time in there trying to find a way past their encryption. I’m sure they know it’s me. It’s only a matter of time before they trace me all the way back to the apartment.”
“That’s why you’re calling?”
“No, it’s to tell you not to come to the apartment again. It was a risk you came. It was foolish once we knew about the connection with politics. Can’t you see the risk is too great? If I get anything I’ll phone you like this or we’ll meet somewhere else.”
Miles was aware he needed to calm Weston. “Anything you want, Adam. I appreciate all you’re doing to help, believe me. And I understand the risks you’re taking. The information on Pugot was helpful. We think we’re getting somewhere. We have another lead. H. Van De Baere, Ghent. They’re a law firm.”
“And?”
“I need information on a recent transaction.”
Miles told Weston about the letter commissioned by Marcel Pugot that Julia had seen in Peggy Westland’s apartment. “The original request for the letter goes back over thirty years.”
Weston was not encouraging. “That’s going to be off limits. Everything back then would be on paper.”
“But a recent transaction?”
“We could be in luck. What do you need?”
“The names of the people who received Pugot’s letter and any background research De Baere did to find them after those thirty years had passed.”
“OK. I’ll check it out and get back to you.”
Weston ended the call.
Miles looked across to Julia. “He’ll do his best.”
Julia was grateful but disappointed. “This is all taking too long. James is still missing and there’s still so much we don’t know.”
“Weston is not about to let us down. Trust me.”
Julia knew this was something she would never be able to do. “Makes me feel so helpless.”
Miles agreed. “I understand. Remember, James is my brother.”
An hour later, Miles’ phone rang again. It was Weston.
Miles replied, “I thought you’d need longer.”
The background chatte
r was the same but Weston was more upbeat. “Good news. Van De Baere is a go-ahead concern. They’re scanning all their paperwork and archiving to hard drive. Their firewall is primitive.”
“How far back do they go?”
“Just three years, so far.”
“So, nothing on the original Pugot request?”
“No. But there’s plenty on the recent stuff you asked for. The research they had to do to trace the families – it’s all there. Enough of it to make you think that lawyers earn their fees.”
“You had no trouble getting into their database?”
“Let’s say it was easy compared with what the FBI serves up.”
“What do you have?”
“Too much to tell. Let’s meet for coffee in twenty minutes. Usual place.”
Weston hung up.
Miles knew where the meeting would be – the cafe on the top floor of the Tate Modern. They’d used the location enough times before.
He looked up at Julia. “Weston has information from Ghent. I have to go to meet him so he can hand it over.”
Chapter 39
Wolfgang Heller had little respect for the man he was now meeting. He was the one who had brought him to the unbearable heat of this place with its unbearable people. Yet Giuseppe Mordini was one of Alessa Lando’s most trusted lieutenants. He’d served and protected her for over twenty years and carried his ugly and excessive body weight as a badge of honor.
To Heller he was a criminal of the old type, obvious and lacking in intelligence, unlike himself. Mordini might have a role as a fat man scaring shopkeepers into giving up their protection money but he was a liability in this modern world, a world in which he, Heller, was comfortable. Yet if Matteo said he should work with a man like Giuseppe Mordini he had to find a way for that to happen.
The meeting took place in Heller’s hotel. The move to Assura Suites, ten-minutes from 6th Street, had been straightforward. His backup ID had not been questioned.
Giuseppe insisted on smoking even though the suite was designated as non-smoking. Heller had to struggle to control the impulse to rip the cigarette from the Italian’s mouth. “You bring me here in this heat. You make me wait over twenty-four hours. I trust you have positive news?”
Giuseppe showed no sign of apology. “These things take time, Herr Heller. No doubt you have been occupying yourself. But be assured, I have the information.”
The feeling was mutual. Like Heller, Giuseppe was here in the German’s room only because Alessa wanted it. He hated the German. He loathed his insistence on propriety. He’d chosen to smoke to observe how the German responded when his patience was tried. This was useful information if, when the time came, he was asked to deal with the man. Understand your enemy’s weaknesses, that’s what Giuseppe had learned in his years with the Landos.
Heller was impatient. “So, tell me where they are.”
Giuseppe paused, making his man wait. “The Ravitz family was taken to a gated compound up on Town Lake.”
“With what security?”
“After they were scared out of San Diego, you won’t be amazed to hear that it’s at maximum. There are armed on-site police on twenty- four hour duty, patrolling and monitoring the complex. With what you’d expect. Security cameras, dogs, intruder alarms.”
“And the Ravitz family?”
“They’re in the most secure part at the rear of the compound. It’s possible they have additional men assigned there just to them.”
“You’re making the location sound impregnable.”
“I would say it is.”
“So, why have you brought me here?”
“To deliver. You need to find a way to get in or to get them to leave the compound. We’d heard you’re good at that kind of thing.”
Heller hated how the Italian said “we”. How he used that to point out how close he was to Alessa. “Anything else I need to know?”
Giuseppe told him the address. “There is something else.”
“And that is?”
“Blake. James Blake is in Austin.”
Heller was cautious about anything additional to the business at hand. In his experience, it introduced an unwelcome unpredictability. But this was the last thing he expected and, as a result, it concerned him all the more. “In Austin. Right now?”
“He’s staying in a hotel right here in town.”
“Where do we know this from?”
“It’s come via Matteo, out of Sollicciano. There’s no information more hard-earned than that.”
“Do we know where Matteo got the information?”
Giuseppe shook his head. “No. But we know Blake is here under a false name – Charles Harrington. He must think he’s safe to be here, traveling under a false identity, passing himself off as a techno attending the big computing convention, mixing with the crowd.”
“And why do we think he’s here in fact?”
“Same as you. He wants to find a way to get to the Ravitz family. He thinks they can lead him to us.”
Chapter 40
The view over the Thames from the top floor cafe of the Tate Modern was one of the best in London.
Miles sat on one of the tall stools facing the long window, looking down on the Millennium Bridge and across the turbulent waterway to the dome of St Paul’s.
It was unlike Adam Weston to be late. Miles had met him there many times before and it made sense to meet there again now that Weston had ruled out returning to the apartment.
Miles’ thoughts turned to Julia and what he had to do to win back her trust, the question he’d been unable to face on Oxford Street. The answer was clear. He had to succeed in helping her find James. That would be the only thing to make it possible for her to forgive him. Right now, what Adam Weston had discovered from De Baere was their only lead and Weston was over an hour late. Miles could only hope that nothing had happened to him.
He was dragged out of his reverie as Adam Weston arrived and took the stool next to him. Weston’s breathing was short. He must have been running. “Couldn’t use the elevator. Had to take the stairs.”
“Hold on.” Miles tried to calm him. “What’s got to you?”
“There are two of them. They were there as I was about to get into the elevator. They’re FBI and they’re on my case for sure. I knew I’d spent too much time in their database.”
“Try to relax. How do you know it’s them?”
“You think it’s paranoia. It’s not. Believe me, I’m sure it’s them.”
Miles decided it was easiest to agree. “OK. Let’s say it is them. Where are they now?”
“I think I lost them. I took the stairs to the second floor and used my card to get into the Klein exhibition. They’d need a ticket to get in and the ticket office is way back on the ground floor. They wouldn’t want to blow their cover and make a scene with the exhibition attendant. I went in and left straight away by the exit near the exhibition shop. Then I took the stairs up here.”
Weston took a USB stick from his pocket. “It’s all here. The names of those sent the Pugot letter. And the background search information that De Baere carried out to find them.”
“That’s great.” Miles took the stick and handed back an envelope. “Your fee, as we agreed.”
Weston took the money. He put it in his jacket pocket without checking the amount. “I’m out of here.”
Miles turned to look at him for the first time. “Stay safe.”
“I will. Don’t stay here.”
Weston made his way out of the building. Looking down on the open pathway between the Millennium Bridge and the museum entrance, Miles had a bird’s eye view of the diminutive figure of Weston as he hurried away towards the Founders Arms and The Doggett.
Miles checked to make sure the USB stick was safe in his trousers pocket. He was shaken to realize that Weston could have been right about being followed.
He headed for the stairs and made his way out of the museum, trying to make it look as if he was part of
a large group of French tourists who were completing their visit.
Paranoia is contagious, he knew that, but Weston was a convincing portrayal of a man under surveillance.
Miles made it to the newspaper office in The Strand that he worked from when he was in London. He didn’t think he’d been followed but there was no way of being sure.
The USB stick loaded into his desktop computer without difficulty. He opened it and looked over the files that Weston had copied to it from his hacking of the De Baere records. Weston had done well. There were hundreds of files, too many to look through here in the office.
Miles opened each of the files and selected ‘print’. The information began spilling out on the office printer they all shared.
His desk mate, Angus Wilson, looked up from his work. “A little homework?”
Miles stood over the printer, making sure no one would collect the pages by mistake or see the volume of material he was printing. He called back, “Something to keep me busy for a while. You know, a journalist’s job.”
“Is never done.”
“Something like that.”
When the printing was finished he had over three hundred pages. Miles placed them in a document box file and returned to his desk.
Yes, Weston had done well. It would take some time to discover just what he’d found.
Chapter 41
It had been too long since Miles had left to meet Weston. Julia was unsettled to find she was concerned for him. She tried to tell herself it was because she needed information that might lead her to James and it was the absence of news about James she was anxious about. Yet when she opened the hotel room door to let Miles in she had to stop herself telling him she’d been concerned for his safety. “That took a long time.”