Vos climbed onto a stool at the breakfast nook and cut into the slice of ham. Absently, he watched Nicole re-boil the kettle and fill a tea ball with loose English Breakfast. She poured the steaming water into a teapot. This ritual was a nicety that Vos seldom bothered with – he tended to drop a bag into each mug.
‘Will you want biscuits?’ Nicole asked.
‘Sure,’ he said absently.
Nicole set a mug of tea in front of him, and one on the other side of the thin counter for herself. She slid onto a stool and laid a plate of biscuits between them. Vos had never understood why Nicole went to such extents to make his life easier. Maybe she saw in him things he didn't see himself. He wished he didn't have to exploit that sentiment now. By enlisting Nicole back into his world, Vos was aware, he may be doing damage to the fragile bindings that held their lives in place.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ he said to Nicole.
‘Of course,’ Nicole said.
‘Last week, you said you’d help me if I wanted you to. With all this Sara Jones shit, I mean.’
‘I did,’ she agreed. ‘And I will.’
Vos took a gulp of tea, and sighed to himself quietly. ‘Did you know,’ he said, ‘that she hates the defence industry?’
Nicole frowned. ‘Sara Jones?’
He grunted.
‘That seems unlikely,’ she said. ‘Isn’t she Rhodri Jones’s sister?’
‘Yeah,’ Vos said. ‘A contradiction for sure. Maybe some old sibling rivalry’s coming into play. But whatever her reasons, Sara Jones’s attitude is becoming a problem.’
‘How?’
‘She’s a negative influence on Jamie Harding. I like the kid, and I think he's got a future. I don’t want her poisoning him against us.’
Nicole had been about to bite into a biscuit. Now she set it back on the plate. ‘How could she do that?’
Vos put down his mug. ‘She’s putting a particular spin on the union thing.’
Nicole raised her eyebrows. Vos did not have to explain what he meant – although the South African mining dispute had happened before they met, Nicole knew the official version of how Vos had resolved it. That story was legendary in the company: through masterful negotiating, Vos had managed to convince a secondary union leader to form a breakaway union, take most of the strikers with him, and marginalise all the hotheads at Thorndike Platinum. The company was back into production when other mines were still paralysed by labour disputes.
‘I don’t know if I ever told you about the aftermath of that incident,’ Vos said, ‘but shortly after I talked Kgatla into starting the new union, some of his rivals went missing.’
Nicole furrowed her brow. ‘You think Kgatla had something to do with it?’
‘It’s possible,’ Vos said.
She stroked his hand. ‘And that makes you feel guilty,’ she suggested. ‘Having elevated a man who would do something like that.’
Vos shook his head. ‘It’s unsurprising, actually,’ he told her. ‘Rivalries have been solved like that before. But that’s not what Sara Jones thinks. She’s threatening to spread other rumours.’
‘Such as?’
Vos drew a deep breath, making sure to look both awkward and pained. ‘I met her today. She suggested I might have had something to do with those disappearances.’
Nicole’s face contorted. ‘What?’
‘I know,’ Vos said, ‘it’s crazy. But in a way, it’s also believable. Everyone knows Sara Jones was close to her brother. If there had been some sort of ugly plot, and Rhodri Jones and I were involved, it’s possible he would have confessed it to her.’ Vos twitched his hands helplessly. ‘At least, that’s what people might think.’
‘But that’s ridiculous,’ Nicole breathed. ‘You’re no murderer.’
Vos looked her square in the eye. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not.’
And in a sense, he believed it. Vos had never once thought of himself as a murderer. Truth was, he wasn’t someone who enjoyed strong-arm stuff. And, after all, he hadn’t pulled the trigger on those union men himself. He couldn’t have even if he’d tried. For years, Vos had thought carefully about all that had happened, and had offered himself many justifications for his actions. He was merely taking a position on behalf of the company, he’d told himself. The choice had been impersonal, detached. A mere executive decision. It was people like Rootenberg and those Afrikaners – men who didn’t mind getting dirty – who bore personal responsibility. Rootenberg had made the calls. The paramilitaries had done the wet work. Once again, Vos reminded himself that he wasn’t even in the room when it happened …
‘But why?’ Nicole asked. ‘Why would Sara accuse you of such an awful thing?’
‘I told you,’ he said. ‘She hates the defence industry. She doesn’t want her boyfriend involved. She knows I think highly of him – hell, I’m lucky Andy Turner introduced us. But I suppose she imagines if she threatens me with rumours, I might let him go.’
Nicole sat silently, pondering this new information. Suddenly, her expression hardened. ‘Then you should,’ she said. ‘Let him go, I mean. Sack him. Gerrit, even if you like the guy, he’s not worth the trouble. Just tell Andy it didn’t work out. Then Sara will have what she wants and she’ll leave you alone.’
Vos shook his head. ‘Can’t do that,’ he said. ‘Even if I wanted to get rid of Jamie, I made a promise to Andy. I intend to keep it.’
That sentiment sounded noble, but Vos knew it was a smokescreen. Releasing Jamie Harding would not help matters, and might even make them worse. After all, Andy Turner was a close friend of Sara’s. If Vos sacked Jamie, Sara might tell Andy everything – if only to explain the sudden change in circumstances. And once Andy Turner knew a morsel of gossip, everyone knew it. If that rumour spread, would anyone believe that Vos hadn’t ordered the murder of those men in South Africa?
Nicole raised her eyebrows and fixed him with a steady stare. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘That’s your call. What do you want me to do?’
Her steadiness soothed him. This was why he loved her – no matter how much shit hit the fan, Nicole never flinched. Vos picked up his fork, speared a chunk of ham, and mopped up a streak of mashed potato. As he chewed, he wondered whether putting the two women into contact would be a good idea. Nicole was a trustworthy presence. She could at least find out what Sara Jones might do next. But was it also possible that Sara might convince Nicole of her version of events? No, Vos thought – Nicole was loyal to the core.
‘Call Sara and ask to see her,’ he told Nicole. ‘When I left her, she was rather hot under the collar. I couldn’t get any sense of what she planned to do with her silly suspicions. Once she’s had a few hours to calm down, we may be able to find out. And I’m sure she’d rather talk to you than me.’ He grinned sardonically. ‘You might even be able to convince her that she’s wrong about me.’
‘That would be a long shot,’ Nicole guessed, ‘but I’ll do my best to make her my friend.’ She reached over and took Vos’s hand. ‘It’s horrible to be falsely accused.’
Vos smiled heroically, and Nicole asked, ‘What if I can’t get her to tell me anything?’
Vos’s smile vanished and he looked at Nicole sternly. ‘Then you ring me immediately. Ring me regardless of what happens. I know more about Sara Jones than I’ve let her realise. There are other things I can do.’ Vos forced himself to relax and gave Nicole’s fingers a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry about what I’ll do,’ he said. ‘Just talk to her, and let me know.’
He forked another slice of ham into his mouth. ‘Actually, there’s one more thing,’ he said, chewing. ‘Pop into the barn and find a GPS tracker. That waterproof kind you sell – the one with the big magnets in it. When you see Sara, find out where she’s parked. Stick it under her car.’
Nicole arched her eyebrow.
Vos shrugged. ‘Why the hell not?’ he asked. ‘That way, if she goes anywhere odd, at least we’ll know about it.’ He put down his fork and pushed aside his plate. ‘It wo
uld be stupid not to take precautions, don’t you think?’
FOURTEEN
Sara’s Monday evening had been full of edgy self-recrimination, mixed with trepidation about what Vos would do next. She sensed he was as unsettled by their confrontation as she had been, but could get no firm impression of his intentions. It was early on Tuesday morning when she received a call at work, from Vos’s partner, Nicole. Nicole wanted to know whether Sara would be free for lunch.
It seemed typical somehow that Vos would send his partner to try to make things better.
Sara had suggested a popular delicatessen built into a railway arch, which was near her clinic and just up the street from the London Fields Overground station. The café itself was a cramped box of fashionable tiling and exposed pipework, but it also offered tables on the pavement outside. The street they faced was as quiet as anywhere below a railway line could be. When she arrived, she found Nicole already sitting at one of the metal tables, with two menus in front of her.
‘Where do you park around here?’ Nicole said as Sara sat down. ‘Every space seems to be permits-only.’
‘It’s not easy,’ Sara said. ‘I should have warned you – sorry. There is a small car park up on Amhurst Road.’
‘I missed that one,’ Nicole said. ‘I ended up at the Tesco car park – I hope they don’t tow me.’
Sara shrugged. ‘Buy some milk when you get back.’
A waiter arrived and took their orders. Once he had retreated into the deli, the two women shifted in their seats and smiled awkwardly at each other.
‘So –’ Sara began.
Nicole cut her off. ‘Mostly, I’m here to apologise,’ she said. ‘I know you met Gerrit yesterday, and he annoyed you.’
Sara parted her lips but wasn’t sure how to respond. Both of those things were true … but was Nicole really naïve enough to think annoyance had been the problem?
‘It’s a funny thing about Gerrit,’ Nicole went on. ‘He’s a smart man, and he has a really subtle mind. And yet, when he talks to people about important things, he can sound stupidly blunt.’ She raised a finger. ‘I’ll tell you what it is – it’s shyness. I know he seems confident, but really, he’s socially awkward.’
Sara blinked, then gazed absently at the modern, blonde-bricked houses across the street. ‘So you’re not apologising for his attempt to bribe me,’ she said quietly, ‘just that he did it awkwardly.’
Nicole frowned sadly. ‘Sara,’ she said, ‘Gerrit wasn’t trying to bribe you. This is exactly the point I’m trying to make – sometimes, he expresses things clumsily. Gerrit was trying to tell you how highly he thinks of Jamie, and how much Thorndike Aerospace could do for Jamie’s career.’
Nicole snapped her fingers, as though she had just remembered something. ‘I want to give you this,’ she said, but the rest of her words were muffled by a passing train overhead. She raised her hands in comic exasperation and waited for it to pass. As it did, Sara glanced back at her appraisingly. Vos’s partner seemed so upfront, so sure that she could spin what had happened yesterday into a case of mere social awkwardness. Obviously, Nicole had been briefed by Vos prior to coming here today – but how much did she actually know?
Nicole listened to the fading rumbles of the train, and then held up a finger. ‘As I was saying … I brought you something. She reached into her jacket pocket. ‘After that lovely dinner at your house, I felt so inspired. As a result, on my way here this morning, I visited a gallery.’
She produced a bronze figurine about an inch-and-a-half tall. ‘And I picked up this little fellow,’ she said, and set in on the table before Sara. ‘It’s for you.’
Sara peered at the green-grey effigy. It was a sculpture of a crouching man, its features worn and mottled by age. ‘West African?’ she speculated.
‘They told me it’s from Mali,’ Nicole said.
Sara nodded. Nineteenth-century, most likely. It would probably have been placed in a shrine, to represent a spirit or ancestor. They were fairly common in London’s specialist African galleries – but still, it would have set Nicole back several hundred pounds. That’s quite an apology, Sara thought. She smiled in a way she hoped looked appreciative. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but this is too much. I really can’t accept it.’
Nicole nudged the figurine closer to her. ‘I bought it for you,’ she repeated. ‘What would I do with it?’
The waiter arrived and set their food before them. Sara was forced to pick up the figurine and place it to the side. The mere act of touching it seemed too much like acceptance. Nicole watched her set the figurine next to her plate and chuckled. ‘If it makes you feel any better,’ she said, ‘Gerrit paid for it. I put it on one of his credit cards. Every time you look at it, you can think of that.’
Sara chuckled appreciatively and watched the waiter retreat. Then she shook her head. ‘It just makes me feel a bit awkward,’ she said quietly, ‘considering what actually happened yesterday.’
Her eyes moved from the figurine to the newly delivered plate of avocado on toast. She realised she had little appetite. ‘The disagreement I had with Gerrit,’ she said, lowering her tone, ‘wasn’t about how things were phrased. I assume he heard I’d been asking difficult questions. And I have been – to Andy Turner. I wanted to know more about what happened in South Africa.’
‘Well, you chose the right guy,’ Nicole replied. She took a bite of brioche as though nothing were wrong. ‘If anything out-of-the-ordinary had happened back then, I’m sure Andy would know about it.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘And Andy can’t help sharing a good story. Am I right in assuming he didn’t tell you anything?’
‘Nothing,’ Sara admitted.
‘There you are,’ Nicole concluded. ‘That’s because there’s nothing to tell.’
‘My questions to Andy unnerved Gerrit,’ Sara said. ‘That’s why Gerrit asked to see me. He started telling me about all the ways he could help Jamie. That suggests he felt threatened.’
Nicole smiled. ‘Wouldn’t you?’ she asked pleasantly. The lightness of her attitude belied her words. ‘I mean, if someone were making unfounded accusations?’
Sara frowned. ‘Despite what you say about his social awkwardness,’ she went on, ‘Gerrit’s offer can only be seen as an attempt at bribery. And when I wouldn’t take the bribe, he threatened to turn Jamie against me.’
For a moment, there was silence – and then Nicole began to chuckle softly. Sara realised she must have looked annoyed by this response, because Nicole quickly stifled her laughter. She placed a hand over Sara’s. ‘Look, I believe you,’ she said. ‘I’m only laughing because it’s so like Gerrit. Sometimes, when he doesn’t get his way, he responds with some silly threat. It happens when he feels out of control.’
She gazed deeply at Sara. ‘Please don’t take him seriously.’
‘I’m afraid I have to,’ Sara said. ‘I can’t un-know what I know. Men were murdered at Thorndike Platinum back then, and Gerrit was involved. I’m afraid that’s the truth, Nicole. If Jamie wasn’t working for him, it would be none of my business. But he is.’
Nicole’s face tightened. ‘Whatever you heard,’ she said, ‘is a lie.’
‘Gerrit told you that?’ Sara asked.
‘Yes,’ Nicole stated emphatically, ‘and I believe him. Your brother was mistaken. Of all people, Rhodri Jones must have known how volatile South Africa was at that time. It was never as simple as management against the unions. There were rival factions among the miners too – power struggles that your brother and his subordinates could never have controlled. Why didn’t he tell you about that, rather than speculating about Gerrit?’
Sara pursed her lips. This confirmed the suspicion she’d had in the cemetery – clearly, Gerrit Vos thought Sara had been given inside knowledge by Rhodri. It certainly sounded more rational than the way she had actually come by the things she knew. ‘I know how much you care for Gerrit,’ she said. ‘And I know how eager you are to believe what he says. In a similar situation
, I’d take Jamie’s side too.’
‘I believe him because I know it’s true,’ Nicole said.
Sara smiled sadly. ‘We shouldn’t argue. Neither of us is going to change our minds. Can I suggest we declare a stalemate? I want Gerrit to tell Andy Turner he no longer wants to work with Jamie. Or, he can ring Jamie and do it directly. That’s all I ask. And if that happens, I’ll say no more about it.’
Nicole looked at Sara neutrally. She really had done a remarkable job of keeping calm, Sara thought. Nicole had sat here, listening to a near-stranger accuse her boyfriend of murder, and yet kept her emotions in check. When they had dinner together, Vos mentioned Nicole had once worked in Intelligence. Sara imagined she had been very good at it.
‘I can tell him what you’ve said,’ Nicole replied cautiously, ‘but I can’t guarantee how he’ll respond.’
Sara nodded. ‘Of course not.’ She looked down at her plate, and realised she had barely touched her food. ‘I have to get back,’ she said.
Nicole signalled for the bill, and insisted on paying. When the waiter had pulled Vos’s debit card from the machine and retreated back into the deli, Nicole reached over, picked up the bronze figurine and placed it in Sara’s hand. There was no more point in arguing; Sara tucked the small sculpture into her pocket.
‘I have to go back up to the Tesco,’ Nicole said. ‘But let me walk you to your car first.’
Sara blinked; the woman was truly remarkable. She was smiling as though they were the best of friends.
‘Actually, I left my car at work,’ Sara said. ‘As you found out, there’s no point in driving around here if you can avoid it.’
‘Of course,’ Nicole said. ‘Then I’ll walk you back to your clinic instead.’
Vos had rung Jamie that afternoon. Just after tea-time, Jamie peered onto the Brixton street, wondering what his client wanted to discuss. He watched for Vos’s Porsche, observing neighbours from the estate several doors down. They were holding an ad hoc party on the pavement, complete with clouds of fragrant smoke and thumping music. Vos was fifteen minutes late, which was unusual for him. Sara had been lying down for an hour now; she had arrived home from work early that Tuesday afternoon with another headache. Jamie did not want to wake her until he absolutely had to. He hoped she was managing to sleep through their neighbours’ impromptu DJ set.
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