Unfinished Business

by W. Soliman

  And suddenly words didn’t seem to matter.

  We went out for dinner again that evening. Monk’s expense account was taking a hammering but it was no less than he deserved for using us. We were drawn by unspoken agreement to the lounge in the Prince Regent for an after-dinner drink. A pianist was crucifying Gershwin, which wouldn’t have been so bad if the instrument he was playing hadn’t been of such fine quality.

  “We could go somewhere else,” Kara said, wincing.

  “No, it’s all right. Just don’t applaud and encourage him, that’s all I ask.”

  She smiled, looking down at my fingers, which were unconsciously tapping out the chords on my thigh. I realized what I was doing and abruptly fisted my hand.

  “Why don’t you show us how it ought to be done,” she said when the hapless player left the instrument and wandered towards the bar.

  I shook my head but for a moment was sorely tempted. That bothered me. Brendan’s best efforts had failed to get me in the same room as a piano for more than two decades. Now this green-eyed hussy thought she could tempt me by humming the familiar melody of “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing,” which was playing softly in the background.

  “Go on, Charlie, I dare you!”

  “Nope. You’ve already got me into enough trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Her eyes sparkled. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  With that she slid across the seat we were sharing, plonked herself on my knee, draped her arms ’round my neck and kissed me. A full-frontal assault, tongue-down-the-throat sort of kiss. I could hear the disapproving tuts coming from the staid couple seated opposite and tried to remain detached from her efforts. But we could both feel my boringly predictable response, and I had to suppress the urge to laugh. Tipping her off my knee, I shrugged and headed towards the piano, my mind a deliberate blank. Sometimes you just had to go with your instincts.

  I sat on the stool and flexed my fingers, waiting for common sense to intervene, but it seemed to be taking a vacation. Tentatively I ran my fingers over the keys, feeling awkward, expecting them to hit all the wrong notes.

  They didn’t.

  The melody I produced sounded as sweet and fresh as though I’d practised it just yesterday. I played along with the piped music, and no wrathful hand of God yanked me off the stool, asking me what the hell I thought I was doing, breaking my promise to my mother. I’d vowed never to play again until I solved the riddle of her murder and yet here I was, showing off because a pretty girl had stuck her tongue down my throat in a public place. I tried a few variations I had no recollection of learning. They sounded good, causing me to wonder if Mum had intervened from wherever she now was to tell me it was all right to get on with my life.

  I became absorbed, barely aware that a small crowd had gathered in the lounge to listen. Kara stood at my shoulder as I played and led the applause when the number ended.

  “That was amazing, Charlie,” she said. “You haven’t lost your touch. No wonder your old teacher is so keen to get you to play again. He’ll be delighted to hear that you have.”

  “I haven’t.” I stood up and shut the lid with a decisive clunk. “That was a one-off, to stop you showing me up.”

  “Oh, is that what it was!”

  My audience wanted more but, already regretting my impulsive action, I drained my glass, settled our bill and led Kara out of the hotel. Annoyed that she’d bent me to her will so easily, I intended to exact revenge as soon as we were alone.

  “Someone’s been on board.” I stiffened as I unlocked the boat and was greeted by a subdued, cross-eyed Gil.

  “How can you tell?”

  “I can smell cigarettes. Unfiltered, foreign cigarettes. Whoever came aboard wants us to know they were here, obviously.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Even the densest of villains would know the smell of cigarette smoke lingers. If they hadn’t wanted us to know they’d been here they wouldn’t have lit up.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But why didn’t Gil stop them?”

  I shrugged. “You know Gil. Besides, by the looks of him, they drugged him.” I hunkered down to take a closer look at the poor chap, furious that these nameless cowards would treat a harmless dog in such a cavalier fashion, just to make a point. As far as I could see, he wasn’t in any great distress but that wasn’t the point. “We’ll keep a careful eye on him.”

  “Oh no, poor baby!” Kara crouched down and cuddled Gil, who wagged his tail halfheartedly, as though he knew he’d failed in his duties, and licked her face. “Thank goodness he seems to be okay.”

  “Yeah, but at least now we know they know we’re here.” I shrugged. “So much for Monk’s elaborate precautions.” I took a quick look ’round. “As I thought, nothing seems to be missing.”

  “Then why did they break in?” Kara was still fussing over Gil and didn’t look up as she spoke.

  “To intimidate us, that’s all. And make sure there’s nothing on board that could harm them.” I grimaced. “Like we’d be stupid enough to leave any evidence we might have lying around.”

  I didn’t sleep well, concerned about Gil and worrying that our uninvited guests might make a return visit. I felt drained and tired in the morning but at least Gil appeared to have slept it off and was back to his normal boisterous self. We met Monk and Levine in the hotel dining room and told them about the break-in.

  “I’ll have someone keep an eye on the boat. But after today, whatever happens, you’ll be able to return to Brighton with the grateful thanks of Her Majesty’s Government, and I doubt you’ll be troubled by these thugs again.”

  “That’s what we intend to do.”

  “Do we, Charlie, I wasn’t thinking we’d need to—”

  “Yes, Kara, we’re finished here. Come on, let’s get up to the room and see if our visitors decide to join us.”

  They did, earlier than they had the day before, which was just as well because I was tired and on edge. Something told me we weren’t just going to sail away into the sunset and get on with our lives, and I had a bad feeling about how things were going to pan out.

  Kara and Jasmine hugged one another, introductions were made and Monk made his pitch. Jasmine heard him out in silence.

  “I’ve been thinking about things a lot since we spoke yesterday. I know he’s planning something big,” she said. “And, from what Anton said yesterday, I suppose it might be to do with computers.” She paused, tilting her head in a compelling manner that made her look fragile and vulnerable. I also felt it was contrived, as though she knew precisely what effect it was having on the men in the room. “It’s funny, but that would never have occurred to me. It’s rather sophisticated for Igor. Still, it explains why Monika has been around so much recently. And Igor’s at her place in Chelsea now.”

  “Can you do anything to help us, Mrs. Kalashova? We would protect you in return and create new identities for you and your children so you can start again somewhere new.”

  She shook her head. “I would like to but there’s nothing you can do to stop my husband.”

  “You don’t need to steal the computer. Merely copy the hard drive.”

  “But that would take hours, wouldn’t it?” I asked.

  Monk grimaced in a most un-Monk-like manner. “Yes, unfortunately it would. But if the computers are left unattended, say, in the evening, it just might be possible.”

  “But hugely risky,” Kara said. “And what about passwords? Presumably they wouldn’t be left switched on.”

  “No, but there’s a way ’round that. You could put your own Linux CD into the computer and boot from that, then do the hard drive copy.”

  “What’s Linux?” Kara and I asked together.

  “It’s the operating system of choice for today’s cybercriminals.”

  “All right,” I said, holding up my hand to halt Levine’s explanation, aware that I’d never grasp all the technicalities. “Why would using a Linux C
D be an advantage?”

  “Because it would allow you to get ’round the password and give you control of the machine.” Levine’s face fell. “But, alas, it’s not instantaneous so there would be a chance of your being caught, Mrs. Kalashova. But if you steal a computer it would definitely be missed in no time.”

  Jasmine gave an apologetic little shrug. “I’m not very technically minded, I’m afraid.”

  “I realize it’s asking a lot but if you were to—”

  “She said no.” Anton moved to place himself behind Jasmine’s chair. “It’s too dangerous. Mrs. Kalashova must think of her children as well as herself.”

  “I must also think of you, Anton.” She covered the hand that was resting on her shoulder.

  “Anton’s life wouldn’t be worth a cent if my husband even suspected him of disloyalty. I’m sorry, but I think it better if we don’t meet again.”

  She hugged Kara for a protracted moment, shushing her protests, smiled just once at me and followed Anton from the room without a backward glance. Kara fell into a chair, covered her face with her hands and quietly sobbed. Which was why, unlike me, she didn’t observe Anton and Jasmine emerge from the hotel a few minutes later, to be intercepted by Igor and two of his henchmen.

  “Igor!”

  Nadia tried to hide her fear at his unexpected appearance. She’d thought him to be safely ensconced in London. Otherwise she wouldn’t have risked coming to the hotel and endangering Kara. Damn, she should have anticipated this. Her heart hammered against her rib cage when she caught sight of the steely set to Igor’s features. She actually trembled when she glanced at Viktor and Nikolay standing at his shoulder, their expressions impassive.

  “What were you doing in that hotel with my wife?”

  “Igor, we were—”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Nadia thought her legs would give way. Never, in fifteen years, had Igor used that tone with her before. She could explain, of course, but was damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. If she told him the truth about Kara, her sister might well finish up like Brett. Which meant Igor, jealous at the best of times, would assume she and Anton were having a physical relationship.

  “Mrs. Kalashova was feeling unwell and so we stepped into the lounge for coffee.”

  Igor nodded at Nikolay, who disappeared inside. He returned a few minutes later, shaking his head. Wordlessly, Igor steered Nadia to a car. His car, not the one she usually travelled in with Anton. Igor climbed in beside her and Viktor got behind the wheel. Both were grim-faced. Neither of them spoke a word.

  “Where are we going, Igor?” she asked, when she could bear the silence no longer.

  “Home is in the other direction.”

  “We’re going to London.”

  “But the children, I—”

  “Olga will look after the children. That’s what she’s paid for.”

  “But I don’t understand, I—”

  “Nor do I, Nadia, but I intend to extract some answers from you before the day’s out.” The granite set to his features turned her stomach. “How could you, Nadia? How could you deceive me with the likes of him?”

  “I didn’t deceive you, Igor. I would never do that.”

  “I’ve given you everything in life a woman could possibly ask for. I worshipped you. I would have given my life for you. I didn’t believe Viktor when he told me. I thought he was being spiteful and was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Without warning he lashed out and struck the side of her face, drawing blood from the corner of her lip. “I’ve told you often enough what will happen to you if you betray me, and you’re about to find out that I don’t make idle threats. But first,” he added in a musing tone, “you might like to watch and see what’s going to happen to your lover.” He nodded out the back window and Nadia noticed the other car, being driven by Nikolay, Anton’s head just visible in the backseat.

  Nadia felt the colour drain from her face. She’d been so concerned about herself and the children that she hadn’t spared a thought for poor, loyal Anton. Somehow she managed to hold on to consciousness, determined not to give Igor the satisfaction of seeing her keel over. But her insides were twisted into tight knots because she knew, whatever her husband had in store for her, for Anton it would be ten times more brutal.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What the hell!”

  I turned to Monk, who was standing beside me at the window. He took in the situation at a glance, pulled his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. “I’ve got a man stationed outside. Perhaps he’ll know what’s going on.”

  Kara came up behind us. “What’s happening?”

  By then Kalashov’s cars had disappeared and I didn’t immediately answer her, waiting to see what light Monk’s man could shed on the situation first.

  “They’re taking them to London.” Monk grimaced as he pocketed his phone. “My chap overheard Kalashov’s instructions to his driver.”

  “No!”

  Kara caught on and her face crumpled. I felt for her. This was my fault as much as Monk’s, and there was sod all I could say to reassure her.

  “We have to do something, Charlie.” Kara was tugging at my sleeve.

  “I’m afraid there’s very little you can do right now,” Monk said in a measured tone.

  “But we put her at risk by—”

  “No, Kara.” For once Monk’s face showed a little animation. “Your sister put herself at risk by getting involved with a man like Kalashov. We have no grounds to interfere in their domestic dispute.”

  Monk was putting my own thoughts into words. It sounded harsh, but there was nothing more we could do to help Jasmine.

  “It’s more than domestic,” Kara said hotly. “She took a big chance in coming to see us. You were happy enough to make use of her but at the first sign of trouble you abandon her.” She flashed him a disgusted look. “How do you sleep at night?”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  I attempted to take Kara’s arm but she shook me off and walked away from us both.

  “We’ve done everything we can here,” Monk said, apparently unaffected by Kara’s justifiable anger. “Why don’t you go back to the boat, both of you, collect your stuff and I’ll drive you back to Brighton? Someone else can bring the boat back.”

  “Have I got a home to go back to?” I asked.

  “Yes, the No Comment is back in her berth in Brighton.”

  “Okay, that sounds like a plan. Come on, Kara.”

  I put an arm ’round her shoulders and steered her towards the door. This time she let me touch her but barely spoke a word when we got back to the boat and gathered our things together.

  The two of us and Gil met Monk, who was waiting for us in an illegally parked BMW at the entrance to the marina. I left Kara in Monk’s care whilst I sorted matters at the marina office. When I returned she was in the back of the car, cuddled up to Gil, dried-eyed and tight-lipped. I’d have preferred arguments and some more of her crazy suggestions to help Jasmine. But all I got was an accusatory silence.

  I’d done everything I’d said I would, and more. I’d known all along it was a bad idea to try to help someone who didn’t want to be helped, but still I’d gone along with it. Kara hadn’t uttered one word of criticism and, up until today, had repeatedly expressed her gratitude for what I’d done. So why did I still feel so shitty about letting her down?

  Monk pulled up outside Kara’s flat. I got out of the car too, heaved her bag out of the boot and deposited it at the front door.

  “Well,” I said, feeling awkward. “I guess this is goodbye.”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Will you be all right? Do you want me to stay?”

  “I’ll be fine. You’ve already done more than enough.” She stood on her toes and gave me a lingering kiss. “And thanks for…well, for everything.”

  “Take care, Kara. I don’t want to scare you but your sister’s husband seems to know every move we make be
fore we make it.”

  “He won’t harm me. Not if I keep out of his business.”

  “Precisely!”

  “Warning heeded.”

  She inserted her key in the lock, picked up her bag and disappeared from sight without looking back. I walked slowly back to Monk’s car and slid into the passenger seat.

  “All a bit of a mess, eh, Charlie?” He flashed me an assessing glance as he manoeuvred the car through heavy traffic and headed towards the marina.

  “Yeah.” I kicked at the mat in the footwell of the car, wondering what if anything I could have done differently. “Where do you suppose Kalashov will have taken them?”

  “Oh, to his daughter’s house off the Fulham Road, I should think. Cathcart Road, to be precise. Do you know it?”

  “Yes, I know the area. I’m a Chelsea fan.”

  “Well, there you are then.” He pulled up in the marina car park. “Thank you, Charlie.” He offered me a firm handshake. “On behalf of Her Majesty’s Government, I’d like to express my thanks for all you tried to do.”

  He handed me the keys to my boat and drove off, leaving Gil and me standing there. I watched him go, wondering quite what it was I’d done to earn his gratitude.

  The boat was spotlessly clean, which was something to be grateful for. I filled the rest of the day doing all the odd little jobs that boat owners do, trying to keep busy. The fridge was full of food I didn’t recall buying so I cracked a few beers that night, cooked a basic meal and tried to put the events of the past week behind me. But even the CD of Art Tatum playing “Tiger Rag” couldn’t stop me thinking about all the things that had gone wrong. I phoned Spain and spoke to Harry, hoping the sound of his voice would cheer me up. He seemed to be having a rare old time and even Emily sounded less fractious than usual.

  In spite of being reassured about my son’s safety, I still tossed and turned all night, feeling lonely. I’d got used to Kara sharing my bed remarkably quickly and was loathe to admit that I missed her. I thought she might have phoned but I hadn’t heard a word from her. She was obviously getting on with her life. Doing the sensible thing by forgetting all about her sister.