You Think You Know Someone

by J B Holman

  ‘Yes. Thanks. G&T. Oh, no. Maybe not. I’ve heard about your Gin and Tonic. It’s infamous office gossip,’ he said, with a smile.

  ‘I make a very good G&T,’ she replied in mock indignation, ‘when I want to.’

  His eye was caught by her Ph.D. certificate from the London School of Economics on a subject that contained a lot of words, none of which made any sense to him other than financial and modelling, and he didn’t even really know what that was.

  ‘So what do you do here?’

  ‘Basically, it’s an investment house. People give us money, we invest it and on a good day we give them more back. I started with £10 million of Nicki’s money in the fund. I have to admit that was very useful in getting us started. Now, eight years later, we have £5 billion under management.’

  ‘And this is your company?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, Nicki knew you did this?’ he asked, as she continued mixing his drink.

  ‘No way! He would have dumped me in an instant. He liked me, how did he say, ‘dumber than a dead dingo’s donger.’ I was just his bird with a bird brain. He hated it if I ever showed I had more than one brain cell, but he did ask me to get an Inheritance Planner, Mr Taylor, which I did. He helped me draw up all the documents to move Nicki’s money around. Nicki never really took an interest in it. I moved everything where I wanted it. I even ran his bank accounts online. Nicki could be so smart, so trusting, yet so dim. I was only his bird but I mocked him with my stupidity. I enjoyed mocking him, but I did double his money, so he came out on top. As he always did.’

  ‘Are you also a computer hacker?’ asked Foxx.

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, you can’t hack into your husband’s computer?’

  ‘No. But I didn’t have to. He logged on when he got home from work and when he went to fix his dreadful G&Ts, I had full access. If I needed longer, I would call his mistress and sit him in the conservatory to talk to her. From his desk, I could see the back of his head in the conservatory, so he couldn’t creep up on me. When he came back in the room, I was sitting like his dim, angelic, fairy cherub in my seat in the corner.’

  ‘Did you often go into his computer, then?’

  ‘No, not much. Only when I needed to get the job done.’ She sat behind her desk and picked up a sleek DuPont pen. ‘Would you like me to make the cheque out to Mr E. Foxx?’

  ‘Best leave the name blank,’ said Foxx. He watched her write a cheque for one million pounds, as they had agreed. ‘You’re not going to tell me your real name then?’ she asked. His silence confirmed he wasn’t. She sat back in thought. ‘If I was going to be a secret agent, I’d call myself Tequila.’

  ‘You need two names,’ he said, pushing her in his mind to say the word Sunrise and restore his belief in the predictability of women. ‘You know, like Black Heart, or Serafina Pekkala. You can’t just have one name.’

  ‘Prince did.’

  ‘Yes, but Prince wasn’t a spy.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Foxx had no comment.

  She filled in the cheque stub. This was quaint. Everything she did was electronic. This was the first cheque she had written for as long as she could remember.

  ‘Why me?’ he asked. She paused from writing.

  ‘Nicki kept talking about you. He said you were the smartest agent in the whole service. He loved your work and laughed at the brilliance of your plans. He told me you were a genius, but when I asked what you had done, he would just tap his nose and say ‘Top Secret’. Annoying or what? So I gave him his first dubious G&T and when he went to fix it, I had a quick look at what he was laughing at. It was just innocent curiosity.’

  ‘Innocent? I don’t think so!’ said Foxx, as he pieced it all together. ‘This is all you, this whole thing. You did it! It was you who used his login on Dominion1431 to ask for the Risk Assessment.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I asked you what it would take to assassinate the PM, and you said, all it takes is a million pounds and a bit of imagination. I wasn’t sure then if you were negotiating your fee or defining how much it would cost a terrorist organisation to set it up, but I went for it anyway. And then to confirm, when you came to the house with Julie, I said: It’s our little secret and that I owe you a million thanks. And you said: My pleasure. So I guessed you must’ve known all along it was me.

  And because you’re so smart, you knew that the PM was never the target. Nicki was often with the PM, so all I had to do was pick the right opportunity.’ She stood up, looking as sweet as ever. ‘You’ll have to wait for the ink to dry.’

  She handed him the cheque, written beautifully for one million pounds.

  ‘So, you just wanted to murder your husband? Lust, jealousy and greed.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ She looked at him, slightly hurt. ‘I loved him. He was an arrogant prima donna, but no-one’s perfect. Lust, jealousy? Nah. I didn’t mind him playing away. On the contrary, it gave me a night off and more time to get my Ph.D. and set this place up.’

  ‘So it was greed? It was about the inheritance? But what you hadn’t counted on was that he was still married to Bettie, so it all went to her.’ She looked at him affectionately, like he was a child trying to work out why spoons are shiny.

  ‘Not really. His will was made out to me in its entirety – estate planning. But to be honest, his estate is worth something less than a million. Everything else, I had put in a trust years ago, so I get the lot anyway.’ She smiled like a teenager who had just won a local dancing contest. ‘But you’re missing the point. I don’t need his money. I have the fastest rising investment management company in the City. I’m already richer than he ever was. It’s not about the money.’

  ‘But you still killed your husband.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘OK, you got someone else to kill your husband.’

  ‘No, that’s not really what happened.’

  ‘Your common-law non-husband then.’

  ‘Sort of, but not really. It had nothing to do with him being my husband. It’s more complicated than that.

  When you first arrived at my house, I thought you had got it and understood what was going on, but then I was worried you were not seeing the bigger picture.’ She sat next to him and put her delicate fingers affectionately on his forearm. ‘That’s why I sent you the Join the Dots book, as a clue,’ she said softly, with her wide Charlie-eyes. ‘I wrote you a note on page 64 in invisible ink, except I used onion juice. I thought that’s what spies did. I thought you would have got it by then, especially after I left the list of names on his desk for you to find. You remember, when you visited the house and I went to get you both your tea, I left the list for you in plain sight. I thought that would be enough to point you in the right direction.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Foxx, ‘I got that,’ simultaneously realising how much he’d missed and lying to the person who never told a lie.

  ‘So, you see, it wasn’t really a husband I had killed. You know the horrors he was planning. Thousands would have died or suffered because of his arrogance. He was out of control. I had to save the country. I had to stop him. I didn’t kill a husband, I removed a dangerous enemy of the State. The fact that he happened to be my unlawfully wedded husband was irrelevant – it just made it harder, emotionally. At first I had no idea what he was up to, but the more I watched, the more worried I got. It took a while for me to work it out, and even longer to believe it, but it became obvious - he was planning a military coup and he had to be stopped.’

  ‘So he was in cahoots with Bettie?’

  ‘No, not at all.’ She slipped her long blonde hair back out of her face. ‘He was inadvertently working in parallel with Bettie. It was ironic, because he loathed her and had nothing to do with her. But between them, in their own separate ways, they would have caused a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Elizabeth was a fascist, racist xenophobe that had control of the DPM. Nicki was a power-hungry moral vacuum that had control over the mili
tary. Given the chance, they would have changed history. It would have been apocalyptic. Expulsion orders for whole families who had settled here since 1945 would have been followed by a substantial immigrant tax, terrible deprivation of human and social rights and the creation of a disenfranchised under-class, not to mention terrible fighting and civil unrest.’ There was genuine horror in her voice. ‘It would have finished the country and been the literal death of thousands and the financial death of millions. What could I do about it, a dizzy-headed blonde?’ I knew what was going to happen, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was a nobody. No-one would even have listened to me. I didn’t know what to do. So when Nicki told me you were the cleverest agent in the Service, I called you in to sort it out, despite your ridiculous fee. I liked Nicki, I liked him a lot, but he was too dangerous. It was the hardest thing I ever did.’ There was one more thing Foxx needed to know.

  ‘Did you ever meet Blackheart?’

  ‘No. I spoke to him once on the phone just after Serrafina Pekkala sent him your plans. Even his voice scared me. I wanted to be anonymous, but he wouldn’t take the job until I told him I was Nikki’s wife, so I was half expecting a blackmail demand after it was all over!

  ‘Do you know who Serrafina is?’

  ‘No, no idea. I never met her. Do you know who she is?’

  ‘I thought I did.’

  ‘Anyway Blackheart texted me to say that he was coming over to pick up the other half of the money in person. I nearly died of fright at the thought of it. And then the next thing I hear is that he got on the wrong side of Storrington at the back of Elizabeth’s house. Storrington said she was part of the plot. She wasn’t of course, so I don’t know what he was doing there.’

  ‘I do,’ said Foxx, at last one step ahead of Charlie. ‘He got the wrong Mrs Tenby. You told him you were Nikki’s wife, so he thought you were his real wife.’

  ‘Poor Elizabeth. I didn’t like her, but I never wanted that to happen to her. It was fortuitous, though, because I did need to stop her.’

  ‘Why? Because she looked down on you?’

  ‘No, because of the influence she held over the DPM. And I felt guilty. You know the Centralist Party that would have given them all the power and the majority they needed to do what they wanted? Well, that wasn’t her idea, it was mine. I wasn’t thinking. At one of our teas, I did my ‘Why don’t we all work together’ beauty-queen speech and gave her my idea. She repackaged it and drove it ahead. When I realised what I’d done and the damage it would cause, it was too late to unravel it.

  ‘And what about Colin Lewis?’ Her whole face changed. Tears moistened her eyes.

  ‘I was mortified. I was so sorry. Shocked. I had never expected that. That was not in my plan at all. But it was my fault. I had chatted to him at the garden party. I had played stupid with him and asked him the code name of his wildest, baddest, most ruthless hit man and he told me. He thought a code name could never do any harm, but he didn’t know I could get into Nicki’s email and ask Serafina Pekkala to put us in touch. As soon as I heard that he’d killed Colin, I knew he was covering his tracks. And it was my fault. For that, I will go to hell. I am so sorry.

  I went to his graveside again yesterday to lay flowers. Someone has put a footstone on it. It’s beautiful. It just says, Shine on you Crazy Diamond. I don’t know who did that.’

  ‘Someone who loved him very much, for sure,’ said Foxx.

  ‘The PM’s OK, isn’t he? I mean he wasn’t in the plane, was he? He’s OK?’

  ‘Yes, he’s fine. But you’ve been a real nuisance and you need to make amends. He’s staying incognito in Tonga at a cost of more than £10,000 a week. I need you to pay for it.’

  ‘No problem. Is there anything else I can do?’ Foxx thought. They talked a while more, then it was time to go. As he was leaving, he threw out a casual suggestion.

  ‘I don’t suppose you fancy dinner?’ he asked.

  ‘Very sweet, Eduard, but I’m pursuing different avenues. Maybe you should ask Julie. You might have more luck there.’

  They walked to the lift. He got in and turned. He could at least have the final victory by getting her to be predictable; he knew she would say Sunrise.

  ‘Tequila what?’ he asked as the doors shut.

  ‘That’s obvious,’ she replied. ‘Mockingbird.’

  The Late News

  After his miraculous survival from the dramatic aircraft explosion six weeks ago, our previous Prime Minister gave a brief press conference from his clinic at a secret location in Switzerland. His assistant, Julie Connor, read a short statement.

  “I confirm that I survived this catastrophic air disaster. My thoughts go to my friend and colleague, Nickolas Morgan-Tenby, who lost his life in this tragedy. My recollection was being knocked unconscious by the blast and coming to, falling through the air, tangled in some of the cargo bound for Marseille. It was the sail-sheeting for a luxury yacht. This acted as a parachute that allowed me to drop into the Lac de Marsin, where I swam towards the shore. I was spotted and rescued. I give the rescuers my eternal gratitude and heartfelt thanks. Without them, I doubt I would have survived.

  I accept and support Richard Buchanan’s accession to Prime Minister and I resign from politics for the foreseeable future. I thank you all for your kind wishes and support.”

  During this statement, sitting next to his assistant in a wheelchair, was ex-Prime Minister Palmer himself. He was bandaged almost head to foot having suffered severe burns and significant physical trauma.

  In other international news, President de Guesclin of France still strongly denies that the French Government or the French Air Force had anything to do with shooting down the Prime Minister’s plane. In the biggest international incident between the UK and France since Waterloo, British forensic analysts and the French air investigators seem unable to agree on the nature and cause of the explosion. Witnesses still claim that they saw the French fighter planes launch missiles. The Captain of the BA jumbo jet said at the enquiry today: ‘I saw a red flash. It was the missile being launched.’ Moments later, he saw the plane blow up.

  This version of events was corroborated by his co-pilot, his navigator and seven separate passengers. The argument still goes on.

  R M Jacobson, the new leader of the Tory Right said, ‘This is grounds for declaring war on our old enemy across the Channel’ and ‘All British patriots should boycott patisseries, Pret a Manger, French polishing and French kissing. The comedy stars, French and Saunders, asked Mr R M Jacobson if they would be 50 per cent boycotted. As far as we know, there has been no response.

  Another seven MPs have signed up to the new centralist Democratic Capitalist party, meaning that Prime Minister Buchanan has 520 out of a total of 650 seats, giving him the biggest majority in the last 100 years, beating Labour’s 418 seat landslide in 1998.

  The Brexit Secretary, William Williamson, confirmed a set of highly successful talks on Defence. His new negotiating partner is the reappointed head of PM-SSS, Commander Storrington, who reports that the meeting was very short and that everything that was on the table is now off the table and we are not even leaving them the table. Europe has to comply with our terms or we will demand the immediate expulsion of France from the Defence Union.

  This new stronger Brexit negotiating stance is an echo of the new PM’s strategy. He has made significant demands on the European Union, reducing the divorce bill by 90 per cent and demanding equitable trade terms beneficial to both parties. He said if the British public want to leave, we will leave on our terms.

  However, in six weeks, we go back to polls for a confirmation vote on Brexit now we know the terms. The Prime Minister confirmed that ‘Whatever the British Public decides, we will enforce with vigour to generate as much prosperity as possible.’

  The Housing Bill that was only passed in the last few months will be scrapped.

  The Census results are expected out at the end of the week. ‘The contentious 1945 Clause, containing que
stions about how long a family has been resident, has been removed and all information on the topic destroyed’, said a Home Office Statement today.

  Twenty-seven victims of human trafficking held captive for fourteen months in a North London Estate have been granted the opportunity to return home or to take British citizenship. They found freedom some weeks ago after the Rafiq brothers, a pair of notorious local gangsters, fought a duel over the leadership of the gang. Both men died in the incident.

  Mohammed Akbar J’zeer, the brother of Al Akboar J’zeer, who was arrested and charged with terrorism crimes and the Brighton Triple Murder, died in his cell today of heart failure.

  Lesley O’Halloran, the assistant to Mr Morgan-Tenby, is still at large. She is believed to be implicated in what police called ‘professional malpractice’, but they would not elaborate for security reasons. Rumours in some of the tabloids say it was linked to a plot to overthrow the British Government by the French, but a spokesperson said that was highly fanciful and most unlikely.

  In the biggest reshuffle for over fifty years, the Army, Navy and Air Force are changing their leaders and a large number of their most senior officers. “We aim to be the most progressive, efficient and up-to-date Military in the world,” said a Defence Department Spokesperson.

  The new Prime Minister spoke at the Lord Mayor’s dinner tonight. As a confirmed bachelor, the Press were surprised to see that he turned up with an attractive female companion, whom he referred to as his friend, Penelope. She is Dr Penelope Clarke, his new adviser on fiscal policy and monetary issues. Judging by the way they were holding hands, the Press are speculating that she may be more than just a friend and adviser.

  We know very little about her. She has been a well-kept secret, is a self-made millionaire in the financial industry and lives in a penthouse on the edge of Hyde Park. She is a distinguished scholar with a first class honours degree from Cambridge University, and an MBA from Harvard, before she completed her doctorate on a refined area of macro-economic financial modelling at the London School of Economics.