by Susan Lewis
Intrigued, Andee said, ‘According to Martyna’s relationship status, those two are an item.’
‘I know, so I tried calling his number, but all I got was “Hi, I’m Todd, good to hear from you, leave a message and I’ll get right back.” Same sort of thing on the girl’s. From there I had a quick look at Todd Rushton’s social media activities to see if there was any mention of the businesses. I drew a blank, I’m afraid, but if you ask me it’s all so non-specific that it has to be shady.’
Since Andee was already convinced of that, she simply said, ‘I don’t suppose you came across the name Sven anywhere?’
‘Not that I recall. Is he significant?’
‘I think so. And no mention of my sister?’
‘None that I could find, but I’ll keep looking, trouble is my workload’s piling up here, so I’m not sure when I can give it any more time.’
‘You’ve done brilliantly already, Leo. Thanks. I’ll keep on it myself and let you know what I find.’
‘Well, I think Mr Todd Rushton is our first port of call,’ Tim declared confidently after Andee had shared her latest information. ‘Did your guy in Kesterly send you the number?’ She nodded.
Reading from her screen he connected to Rushton’s mobile and told the voicemail, ‘Hi, the name’s Tim Perroll. I hear you can help with investments, so if you could call me back that would be great.’
As they walked on towards Upper Belgrave Street Andee said, ‘So knowing what we do now, which admittedly isn’t much, what do you think it’s all about? What’s your hunch?’
He took a while to think. ‘Still too vague,’ he decided, ‘but if I had to hazard something … When you first told me about it you mentioned a couple of clinics in the US. If we put that together with Martyna’s claims that her boss is doing wonderful things, helping many people … OK, I’m going right out on a limb now, but it could be some kind of organ trade.’
Andee baulked. That hadn’t occurred to her at all. Amazing how differently men and women thought.
‘What’s your gut telling you?’ he asked.
‘Not that,’ she admitted, ‘but now you say it … I guess it could fit. Small fortunes change hands for healthy organs.’
‘And from what we’ve seen so far, the young people posting on Martyna’s page would definitely fit into the category of healthy. Plus they seem to have hit some sort of jackpot, “loving this life”, “so scared when I left, but didn’t need to be”, “treatment going well”. I’m just saying, it’s a possible.’
Since she couldn’t match it with any rational theories of her own, Andee didn’t argue.
‘OK, so here we are,’ he announced as they reached the address on Upper Belgrave Street. ‘As you said, no entryphone, and no knocker, telling us the people inside are not interested in getting to know the people outside.’ Taking out his phone he left Rushton another message.
‘Hi, Tim Perroll again. I forgot to mention that I’m with the Metropolitan Police. We’re outside KT Holdings on Upper Belgrave Street. It would be a good idea to let us in, or to call me back on the number you’ll now have. We’ll wait five minutes.’
As he rang off Andee said, ‘What are we going to do after five minutes?’
‘I’m sure you have a plan.’
Choking on a laugh, she said, ‘I feel like I’ve been here before with you.’
He grinned and glanced at his phone as it rang. ‘My brother,’ he said, ‘I’ll call him back.’
Going to sit beside him on the front steps leading up to the porch, Andee said, ‘I think in your next message you should say that we have reason to believe that illegal activities are being conducted from these premises. If no one lets us in we’ll be forced to obtain a warrant and if there is still no cooperation the door will be broken down.’
‘I like it. There’s one thing we haven’t tried yet, of course,’ and getting up he mounted the rest of the steps and hammered his fist against the solid bastion of a front door.
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ Andee commented drily.
Receiving no response, he returned to the pavement and looked up at the silent, unblinking house. ‘It’s impossible to tell whether anyone’s inside. I wonder if there’s a way in – or out – round the back?’
As he started off down the street Andee received a text and immediately called him back.
It was from Penny.
You don’t know what you’re doing. You need to stop.
After showing it to Tim, Andee texted back. Tell me why.
Several minutes ticked by. In the end Andee texted again. Why are you afraid to see me?
The response came quickly. I am not in the country. Please stop hounding my staff. They can’t help you.
Andee gave herself a moment before messaging again. I don’t believe that and we won’t stop until we’ve got some answers. Tell me about Sven?
You’ll never find him so do yourself a favour and stop trying.
‘Ask if her son’s with her,’ Tim prompted.
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not?’
Andee did, and no answer came back. How quickly the balance had shifted. It had been Penny who had sought out Andee, and now she was trying to push Andee away. Clearly Penny hadn’t contacted her and her mother to rekindle their relationship. It had always been about something else, something bigger.
Andee tried texting again, but still no response. ‘I think we can deduce from the way the boy’s approaching me through my mother that he doesn’t want to talk to me himself,’ she said. ‘Is that because he’s afraid his mother is having me watched – and we know that she is – so I’d lead her right to him? Or is he part of whatever twisted game she’s playing?’
‘Do you think he is?’
‘No, actually I don’t, but I guess we can’t rule it out.’
‘Why doesn’t he just contact you by phone or email?’
Andee shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask him that.’
Tim was looking up and down the street, trying to spot anyone in a car or on foot who might conceivably be tracking them. There didn’t appear to be anyone. Taking out his phone he called Todd Rushton again. ‘OK, your five minutes is up. We’re heading round to your gaff – yeah, we know where you live – while we wait for backup to join us here in Belgravia. If you’re in put the kettle on, there’s a good lad. Dying for a cuppa.’
‘Where does he live?’ Andee asked, falling into step with him.
‘No idea, but keep walking in case someone’s watching.’
Apparently someone was, for as they reached Belgrave Square a silver Mercedes drew up alongside them, and a middle-aged man with greying slicked-back hair and horn-rimmed glasses lowered the rear window. ‘I’m Peter Graze-Jessop, lawyer for KT Holdings,’ he informed them. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
Thinking fast and hoping for the best, Andee said, ‘We’re trying to find John Victor Jr.’
Graze-Jessop appeared amused. ‘John Victor Jr,’ he repeated, as though enjoying the name. ‘Yes, a lot of people are trying to find that young man. I take it you haven’t seen him.’
Before Andee could reply, Tim said, ‘Why are you looking for him?’
Graze-Jessop pondered the question. ‘Let’s just say he has something that doesn’t belong to him and he really needs to give it back.’
‘And that would be?’ Andee prompted.
‘He knows what it is. He also knows that no good will come out of what he’s trying to do. Nor are you helping anyone by harassing Martyna and Todd. I believe,’ he continued, ‘your sister has already cautioned you to stop. You’d be wise to heed her words.’
Astonished and annoyed, Andee said, ‘Please tell my sister that I don’t appreciate being threatened by her lackeys.’
Graze-Jessop glided right over the insult. ‘You must make your own decisions,’ he said, ‘but please don’t say you weren’t warned,’ and before she could respond he instructed the chauffeur to drive on. Howev
er, Tim was too fast for them. He was in front of the car before it had moved an inch, holding up his badge and instructing Graze-Jessop to step out on to the street.
Appearing vaguely ruffled Graze-Jessop complied, his hands ludicrously raised as though someone was threatening him with a gun.
‘I don’t know what your game is,’ Tim growled into his face, ‘but I do know this. Nothing legal needs the sort of cover-up you’re involved in here. So despite your threats, we’re going to find out what it is, and please don’t say you weren’t warned.’
Still not looking as shaken as Andee would have liked, Graze-Jessop returned to the Mercedes, spoke to the driver again and minutes later they were turning off the square in the direction of Knightsbridge. ‘That was subtle,’ she told Tim.
‘I do a good line in it,’ he quipped. ‘Bastard’s so smooth you can practically see the trail he leaves behind.’
Andee turned to look back down the street, wondering if anyone inside the house had witnessed the last few minutes. ‘Where do you suppose she is?’ she pondered. Taking out her phone she connected to Penny’s number, and the ringtone confirmed that she was indeed out of the country. Deciding not to leave a message, she ended the call just as another came in. Seeing it was her mother she clicked on.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
‘I’ve seen him again,’ Maureen replied breathlessly. ‘He was waiting outside reception when I left the gym. He seemed very upset that you hadn’t rung the number yet, so I told him it was my fault. I said I was sorry. He was very nice about it and wrote it down again. He really wants you to call this Sven. I promised you would, so you must …’
‘I will,’ Andee cut in, ‘but you need to give me the number.’
‘Yes, of course. Here it is. I’ve got it right here.’
After taking it down and double-checking she had it right, she said, ‘Was anyone else with him?’
‘Not that I saw. He seemed very worried. He said I should tell you that time was running out and he really needs your help.’
‘With what?’
‘He didn’t say, and he’d gone before I could ask.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. Jenny’s with me. She saw him too. I looked out for the car but he cut into the woods, so I’ve no idea where he went from here.’
After assuring her mother she’d call back as soon as she had some news, Andee rang off and relayed the information to Tim. ‘The number begins 0046. Do you know where that is?’
Googling it, he said, ‘Sweden. With a name like Sven we should have guessed.’
Wasting no more time Andee pressed in the number, and felt her heart starting to beat a little faster as she waited for a reply. Where on earth was all this going to take her?
When the ringtone stopped it was followed by silence, so she said, ‘Hello? My name’s Andee Lawrence. I was told to call this number.’
‘Yes, Ms Lawrence, we’ve been expecting to hear from you,’ a quiet female voice responded. Her English sounded perfect, spoken as it was with a Swedish accent. ‘I’m afraid it is not convenient for Mr Sylvander to take your call at the moment. Is it possible for him to ring back on this number in half an hour?’
Seeing no point in arguing Andee said, ‘Yes, that’ll be fine.’
Having walked round to the Rubens Hotel to have coffee while they waited for the call back, Andee and Tim chose seats at the streetside window overlooking the Royal Mews, watching crowds of tourists coming and going.
As Tim spoke to his brother on the phone, Andee poured them coffee from a cafetière and returned to an email from Leo detailing the information he’d given her earlier. Two companies without websites or registered addresses, neither of them offering services that could be accessed, other than by calling Todd Rushton or Martyna Jez, and no mention at all of any US-based medical centres.
‘Do you have any helpful contacts in the States?’ she asked Tim as he finished his call.
‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ he replied, picking up his coffee, ‘but there’s no one I’d feel comfortable trading favours with at this stage. We need more to go on.’
Having expected that answer, Andee checked her phone as it rang, and seeing it was Graeme she felt unsure about answering. Now wouldn’t be a good time while she was waiting for Sven to call back; on the other hand they hadn’t spoken for what seemed too long.
‘Hi, how are you?’ she asked, clicking on.
‘I’m fine,’ he replied, his tone slightly querulous and distracted.
‘How are things going over there?’
‘I wish I could say also fine, but the problems seem to be piling up. What about with you?’
So much had happened since they’d last spoken that she couldn’t think where to begin, or why he’d be interested when he was so challenged by events over there. ‘It’s still quite complicated,’ she replied. ‘No sign of Penny, but we’re working on it. Listen, I’m waiting for a call that I have to take. Can I ring …’
‘It’s OK. I’ll try again later,’ and before she could draw breath the line had gone dead.
Tim regarded her curiously.
Not sure whether she was offended or worried, Andee simply shook her head and returned to her phone, this time to read an email she’d just received from Alayna.
Hey, made a start and thought I’d send this through. Out of first twenty friends on MJ’s FB page five are Polish, two Estonian, six Latvian, three Slovakian, and four Hungarian. All living in UK. Can’t find what they do for work, or where they live, but all sounding very grateful to Martyna. Are they for real? No way of knowing. If you scroll on down from these posts you’ll find more, mostly from guys in their twenties, definitely not older, and saying more or less the same thing. Again, no idea if they’re real. More soon as I can. Xxx
Andee showed it to Tim, and was about to comment when a call came in. Seeing the Swedish number she quickly clicked on.
‘Ms Lawrence, Sven Sylvander here. I’m sorry to have kept you.’ The voice was low, gravelly and very slightly fractured. ‘I am presuming that Jonathan gave you this number. Do you know where he is?’
Jonathan? ‘No. Do you?’
‘I’m afraid not, but it’s very important that we find him. Can you come to Stockholm?’
Andee blinked in astonishment.
‘I’m afraid my health won’t allow me to make the trip to London,’ he explained, ‘but we need to talk. I will arrange the air travel from this end and someone will be at the airport to meet you. Is tomorrow too soon?’
Andee looked at Tim as she said, ‘That sounds fine.’
‘Thank you. If you will be kind enough to give me your email address I’ll have my assistant send you details of flight times. I shall look forward to meeting you.’
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, feeling as though everything was taking a truly surreal turn, Andee was settled into a business class seat on the 7.40 flight to Stockholm from Heathrow. Given the short notice of the trip, she’d paid a quick visit to Oxford Street yesterday to gather up enough essentials to last for three days, though no one had told her she’d be away for that long. In fact, there had been no mention of a return flight at all, and the ticket she had was only one-way.
‘Don’t worry,’ she’d told Tim when he’d pointed this out. ‘I’m sure no one’s planning to kidnap me, and I can always buy myself a ticket to get home if need be.’
He still didn’t look happy. ‘You don’t feel you might be walking into some sort of trap?’ he challenged.
It hadn’t crossed her mind until he’d suggested it. However, now, as the plane soared off into the blue beyond, she was asking herself if she was crazy to be following a stranger’s instructions to fly to a country she’d never visited before, as though this were some sort of game for which she knew the rules – which she patently didn’t.
There was no point trying to second-guess things; she had absolutely no idea what to expect when she
got to Stockholm, apart from a meeting with Sven Sylvander, and after that, presuming it happened, she’d just have to wait and see.
In an effort to distract herself from the continued taunt of misgivings she tried to focus on her mother, whose concern about this trip to Stockholm hadn’t been so very different to Tim’s.
‘I wish Graeme was around to go with you,’ Maureen had commented with a sigh. ‘It doesn’t seem right you having to go there when I’m sure this man could just as easily come here.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Andee had assured her. ‘I just want you to stop worrying and let me know immediately if either Penny or her son get in touch again.’
Having wondered earlier if this trip was some sort of ruse to get her mother on her own, Andee had already texted Blake to ask him and Jenny not to let Maureen out of their sight. She’d also alerted Gould and Johnson of her movements and of course Tim knew, and would have come with her had his wife not been returning from York today.
Remembering that Alayna had emailed her a further update last night, she scrolled to it and felt her curiosity growing, along with confusion and unease, as she tried to make sense of it.
OK, girls first. Seems like seven of those I checked yesterday are living in London. No actual addresses, but that’s not unusual, only a moron would give that sort of information on social media. They’re still active on various sites, but nothing unusual about their posts since those a couple of months ago, apart from the fact that they no longer seem to be in contact with Martyna. I went back a bit further on a couple of pages and found some interesting entries about someone called ‘Polina’ who ‘didn’t want to go through with it’. Have attached a screen shot. See where someone says, ‘Oh my God, that’s terrible. No one will ever find her.’ The responses are all weepy emoticons, apart from a couple saying that she had a choice so it’s her own fault. Couldn’t find anything to explain what it meant. The next weird, or interesting thing, is a post from someone called Inga reminding them that they should be using their private chat room.
Sorry, got to go now, Jay’s waiting. No idea what any of this means, or how real it is. Will try to check.