Kill a Spy: The House of Killers

by Samantha Lee Howe

  Nicole is shy and she doesn’t know any of their names, though for several weeks now she’s been on smiling terms with a couple of them. She also caught one of the men giving her an appraising look a few times. But she didn’t encourage it: he’s not her type.

  Shower done, she pulls the towel around herself and goes out, passing another woman who is waiting for a free cubicle. The woman smiles at her and Nicole nods.

  Clutching her key in her hand she goes in search of her locker. Still wrapped in the towel she opens it and pulls her clothing free. She dries and dresses under the towel, marvelling at how all the others just throw their bodies out on display with barely a thought of those around them. It isn’t as if they all have perfect figures either. Nicole finds it all a little embarrassing and turns away facing the lockers instead of looking into the room. She’s self-conscious about her weight – it’s why she comes to the gym. She’s the sort of person who just has to look at anything calorific and the pounds go on. Her whole life has been a nightmare of diet and exercise to fight the bulge.

  ‘They are frightful, aren’t they?’ says a voice beside her.

  Nicole turns her head to see the woman from the shower.

  ‘Is it just me that likes to keep my privates private?’ the woman says.

  Nicole finds herself smiling at her. She’s in her mid-20s. Pretty with long red hair that’s tied back in a ponytail. Taller than average, slim but athletic.

  Nicole looks around and notices that the other women, still talking in loud banter, haven’t overheard their exchange.

  ‘Me too,’ she whispers. ‘It’s a bit… well… I don’t really want to see everyone else’s either.’

  ‘I’m Jewel,’ the woman says.

  ‘Nicole.’

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’ve just joined this class. Is it the same every week?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ Nicole says. ‘Not all of them are here for every class though. I come Tuesday and Fridays.’

  ‘Oh really? That’s the days I’ve booked for too,’ says Jewel.

  ‘But you haven’t been before?’ Nicole observes.

  ‘Just moved into the area. I’ll be honest, I don’t know anyone here and I’m hoping to make friends.’

  Nicole smiles. ‘I’m happy to help.’

  ‘I hoped you’d say that!’

  Jewel invited her to go for a drink and they sat in the gym coffee lounge to the side of the room while the much bigger group from the spin class took up the opposite side.

  ‘I normally just leave after the class,’ Nicole says.

  ‘I’m not surprised, with that lot being so cliquey,’ Jewel said.

  Nicole glanced at the group. Still being loud as though they all competed for attention from each other as a form of validation – they belonged, though Nicole thought she didn’t and therefore never tried to fit in. All she had wanted to do was hold back that inevitable swamp of blubber that her mother had given in to, always blaming baby fat as the issue.

  Her mother was the worst for fat-shaming, picking at her for every extra pound that Nicole might store, whatever the time of month. She’d become so obsessed with her daughter being thin that she’d actively encouraged her to puke if she overate. But those days were gone now, and Nicole, with the help of counselling, had been working really hard with her food issues, while learning to recognize that her mother was the one with the problem. Even so, gym attendance was a crucial part of her feeling in control. It was also a source of discussion at her counselling sessions, along with her lack of friends. But she doesn’t share any of this with Jewel, who casually talks about her own life, telling her about a recent failed relationship, and her need to take back her life.

  ‘He was always putting me down, you know?’ Jewel explains.

  Nicole did know. Her counsellor had pointed out the co-dependency issues and why she chose partners that abused her and made her feel worthless. Though she keeps all of this to herself as she listens to Jewel talk.

  ‘You’re a good listener,’ Jewel says. ‘But what’s your story?’

  ‘Story?’

  ‘Yeah. We all have one.’

  Nicole shakes her head. ‘Nothing much to tell. I’m single at the moment. A few failures too. I’m content being alone for the time being.’

  Jewel nods her understanding. ‘I hear you.’

  Nicole smiles at her. For the first time in a while she may have made a new friend.

  ‘I have to go,’ Jewel says. ‘But, see you Friday?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll be here,’ Nicole says.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Neva

  Neva looks at the book that Fracks gave her. It is a hardback copy of a historical romance. Not the sort of subject Neva would have expected Fracks to have found appealing. She opens the cover and looks now at the names Fracks had written on the blank first page. The penmanship is untidy, and Neva recalls the shaking of his hand as he wrote.

  Kritta (Berlin); Banwick (Cardiff); Subra (Jerusalem); Petters (Oslo); Conor (Edinburgh); Drake (Venice); Armin (Kabul); Stanners (Loch Lomond); Ruddy (Florence); Aelen (Belfast); Cruik (Madrid).

  She takes a pen out of the drawer in her small kitchen and crosses off the names that are no longer valid. She knows that Subra executed Armin and was then killed by Solomon Granger. As for Stanners (the real father of her assassin colleague and of the former head teacher at the Alderley Edge kill house, Olive Redding), Michael had confirmed that he was dead and suspected Olive of the deed. Revenge no doubt for his part in handing her over to the kill house when she was an innocent child. Neva understood that revenge more than most. She wanted the same thing herself. If Annalise was who they thought she was, Neva wanted her dead too. At least, thanks to Fracks, she has some direction in which to look.

  Neva looks at the other names. Which of these did Vasquez take down in his pursuit of a place on the committee? Fracks had said Aelen and Ruddy were gone. Neva underlines these names rather than crossing them off. She will have to do her own research to confirm this is the case.

  Neva opens her encrypted laptop and begins another search on onionland. Her contact Elbakitten may be able to shed some light on these characters and, so far, her intel has proved reliable. She sends an encoded message to Elbakitten and then waits for a response.

  Half an hour later Elbakitten replies. They go into a private chat room.

  I need anything you can find regarding the following names, Neva types.

  These are codenames? Elbakitten replies.

  Yes, Neva responds.

  That information may be expensive, Elbakitten replies. Should I test one name first?

  Try Kritta since it’s the first one on the list, Neva says.

  I’ll get back to you in 24 hours, Elbakitten says. I’ll message you in the usual way.

  Neva disconnects. Then she looks around the small apartment and frowns. She’s tired of hiding out in Amsterdam, but has no desire to go elsewhere. Travelling and crossing borders is still too risky. For this reason, the world no longer feels big and she experiences a claustrophobic resentment of Amsterdam. She wonders now why she came here. There were many other locations she could have chosen. Other identities she could have taken on. But Neva had chosen Amsterdam for another specific reason. She’d told Michael about her bolt-hole here and part of her hoped he would come and find her.

  She finds herself thinking of Michael now, as she often does. She’s still grieving his loss and her heart feels like it’s shattered in pieces. She still wishes he’d given her a fair hearing and toys with the idea of making contact again, knowing she won’t: she can’t bear further rejection.

  What if he doesn’t reject you? she thinks.

  That scenario passes behind her eyes. She sees Michael now, caring, warm, persuasive.

  ‘Come in and talk,’ he’d say, expressing concern. ‘Tell us your side.’ But she has no side. She didn’t do what she was accused of.

  Neva stalls again on this thought. Did she?

  To reass
ure herself that she hasn’t been compromised, Neva looks at her security footage again. She skips through seeing only normal activity.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ she says aloud. ‘I’m not a sleeper agent.’

  But the doubt remains as she resets the recordings and, aware that her own cameras pick up her every move, Neva begins her regular exercise routine.

  She runs a mantra – one of her own making and not from the conditioning of the past – over and over in her mind as she works out.

  I am strong. I am Neva. I am in control. I’m death for those who deserve it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Michael

  ‘It appears that our victim, Elizabeth Seacroft, did meet someone in a local pub. One of the bar staff remembers selling a bottle of wine with two glasses to a woman that Elizabeth met up with. He recalls that she had long red hair tied in a ponytail and she wore glasses. Black rimmed. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to corroborate his statement. I pulled up security footage around the area but she doesn’t show up anywhere,’ Beth says.

  ‘Are we are looking for a woman?’ Ray asks.

  We are in Ray’s office because we always do our main group briefings in this room. There is a large conference table in the centre, and we sit around it, looking at the screen above Ray’s desk.

  ‘Not necessarily. The friend she met might have nothing to do with her death. However, the pathology report shows flunitrazepam traces in her bladder. Just like Sinead,’ I say. ‘Which had to be slipped to her at the pub because it needs time to work. For this reason, it’s plausible that someone else could have been watching and dropped something into Lizzie’s drink. Or it may well be the friend that she met up with for a drink. Though this seems unlikely.’

  ‘Why do you think it unlikely?’ Ray asks.

  ‘Our perpetrator has made a great effort not to be seen, so why openly meet the victim in a pub where there would be many witnesses? It’s just not the way an assassin would work. Especially if we believe there is a connection with the Network here. Beth, did you see Lizzie on the cameras in the area?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes,’ Beth says.

  She casts the footage up onto the screen. We see Lizzie leave the pub alone and very much alive. She is staggering a little as she walks as though she’s had too much to drink.

  ‘She was on her own all the way. Though there is a break in coverage about two hundred and fifty yards from her house. So, we can’t see her approach and go inside the house. However, based on the fact that her handbag… you see she’s carrying it there… was in the hallway, it does look as though she entered. How she ended up in the shed later we don’t know,’ says Beth.

  ‘Was her mobile ever found?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ says Beth. ‘No sign of it.’

  ‘Then the perp took it with them,’ I say.

  ‘But why would they do that?’ asks Ray.

  ‘There had to be something incriminating on it,’ Elsa chips in. ‘There’s no other reason.’

  ‘Possible communications from the killer, or it could be photographs on Lizzie’s camera,’ I say.

  ‘Do we have a list of Lizzie’s last telephone calls and any text messages?’ Ray asks.

  ‘There was one number she’d rung and received calls from that was unregistered. Could be our perp. We’ve tried to trace it but it’s switched off, so if it was a burner, it’s been ditched. Lizzie didn’t make or receive any calls that evening though. It would suggest that this person she met arranged it some other way. Through the dating site or some other social media platform. All of which we have no knowledge of or access to without Lizzie’s phone. She didn’t have a home computer and only used her phone to communicate with other friends. And we’ve drawn a blank on Facebook as she appears not to have it.’

  ‘No social media?’ Elsa says. ‘Who doesn’t have Facebook this day and age?’

  Beth shrugs, ‘Well none of us do…’

  ‘That’s obviously for security reasons,’ Elsa says. ‘But who… normal?’

  ‘I have a friend who’s a teacher and she detests social media. She uses WhatsApp though,’ Beth says. ‘Maybe we can see if Lizzie had an account there. I’ll check with her service provider to see we can get access to her account. See what apps she downloaded. It will confirm at least if she had a Yin and Yang account on there. Or any other apps that might be used to communicate.’

  I fill them in on my interview with Debra O’Brierley. ‘Debra said her sister had planned to meet a female to holiday with. She’d met her on the dating site and they had become friends. Just to be clear, Sinead wasn’t gay – it was purely platonic. It appears that at the last minute though, this person let her down. Though Debra says Sinead told her she still paid for her half of the accommodation.’

  ‘Do we know how she paid?’ asks Beth.

  ‘I’m assuming the money was sent to her bank by BACS,’ I said. ‘Or possibly PayPal.’

  ‘Let’s check on that,’ Ray says. ‘It could be a lead, but might just help us rule out this person.’

  ‘I’ll look into it,’ says Elsa.

  ‘One more question Beth. Do we have any footage of this red-haired friend of Lizzie’s arriving at least? Perhaps if we get a screenshot of Lizzie’s other friend, Vicky may recognize her. She might be the last person to talk to the victim and may know something that can help.’

  ‘I looked, but didn’t see anyone entering the pub who looked like that,’ Beth says.

  ‘Where’s the footage focused near the pub?’ Ray asks.

  ‘There’s some on the street, and one directly on the main door. But the problem is there’s another door at the back that leads into the pool room and bar at that side. The woman could have come in that way,’ Beth says. ‘There’s no cameras on that side.’

  ‘Can we check CCTV all around that area? Especially on the other side?’ I ask.

  ‘I have, but I’ll cast the net wider and see what I come up with,’ Beth says.

  ‘I can help,’ says Elsa. ‘That’s a lot of footage to look at for one person.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Beth.

  Beth finishes the briefing with more information from the autopsy report. The evidence does appear to point to the same killer for both victims. Elliot is certain it’s the same knife.

  ‘Okay. Thanks everyone. That’s all for now,’ Ray says. ‘Michael… if you could just stay behind for a minute.’

  I remain in my seat as Elsa and Beth leave.

  ‘I wanted to be the one to tell you; Leon has moved over to MI6. He’s replacing your brother-in-law. It’s a promotion so I couldn’t object given that he only filled your job on a temporary basis. It is, therefore, the perfect opportunity to reinstate you.’

  After all that’s happened, I’m more than a little surprised by Ray giving me my old job back, which means extra security clearance. And basically I’ll be running the department as his second.

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say you’re glad to be fully restored,’ Ray says.

  ‘I am of course. But why?’ I ask.

  ‘You deserve your life back and shouldn’t be punished for things you aren’t responsible for. Plus, the shrink is satisfied that your conditioning has been fully deactivated due to the hypnosis you agreed to. At every turn you’ve done the right thing.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say even though I know this in no way gives me my life back. That can only happen if Neva is part of it.

  ‘Elsa seems to be fitting in. But she needs some guidance and you and Beth will be perfectly placed to give that.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Now, any thoughts on how we might track Neva? There was a possible sighting in Brussels. Then she was off radar again,’ Ray says.

  ‘As you know she didn’t share with me the locations of her bolt-holes – except the one in Kingston. But she’s partial to using holiday let sites. The only issue is we have no idea what identity she might use. Perhaps put a flag up for single women travelling alone?’
I say.

  ‘But she had mentioned going to Amsterdam with you?’ Ray says.

  ‘Yes, but not any particular address. It could be a let, and if so, we are looking for one that is long term but was taken around the time Neva fled. Unless of course she did already have somewhere – which was my impression.’

  ‘If you remember anything else…’ Ray says.

  ‘Naturally, you’ll be the first to know if I come up with anything. Or if she tries to contact me again. I’ve kept that last burner active, just in case,’ I say.

  ‘Good,’ Ray says.

  I leave the office but I’m uncomfortable with the exchange that has just happened. Did Ray give me back my old role just to test if I knew more about Neva than I’d previously admitted? I walk back to my office frowning as I worry away at the idea. I can’t blame Ray for holding back his full trust, I’m not that confident in myself these days either.

  Still frowning, I walk into the central office and find Beth and Elsa at opposite ends of the room looking at their computers. They don’t exchange any friendly chat and I’m aware as I go into my office just off theirs that Beth isn’t that happy about having a new arrival. I wonder if Elsa’s sex has more to do with it than her abilities. Beth, despite her declaration that it was nice to have another woman around, always liked being the only one in our group. Now that she isn’t, does Beth see Elsa as a rival?

  I’m determined to keep a close watch on both of them now that I’m back in charge. I’ll have to head off any competitive behaviour if I see it, though I actually don’t care to have Elsa around myself. There’s something about her that makes me edgy.

  Perhaps it’s because I know that she’d been working with Ray for some time before I’d ever met her.

  It reminds me, I suppose, that Ray has his own secrets that sometimes Beth and I aren’t privy to, and knowing that keeps me and Beth on our toes.