I still said nothing.
“Jack, don’t be stupid.”
I pulled into a deserted lot and stopped the car. I flung my door open and got out. Marcia hesitated, then did the same.
“We’re not going anywhere they know about,” I said. “Got it? Not your place, not mine. I’ve got a little house on the other side of the city. It’s rented in a false name. I paid a year up front in cash.”
She protested, but once it became clear that I wasn’t turning around, she gave up. We took our seats and passed through the city. I picked up the M4 and drove to West Drayton. A few minutes later, I parked behind an apartment building.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Once outside, she said, “You know the car’s being tracked.”
“Yup, that’s why we’re getting in a different vehicle and then going to my place.”
She caught up to me. “Are you always this paranoid?”
“The day I stop is the day I die.” I pointed at a white sedan. “There it is.”
I got back on the M4 and drove west another ten miles to the far end of Slough. The streetlights in the neighborhood were few and far between. My house had a wooded lot. It was almost impossible to see the front door from the street. I pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the garage.
Marcia followed me up to the front door. I had installed an electronic lock when I moved in. I blocked the pad and punched in the code. I swung the door open for the first time in two months. Stale air escaped and surrounded us. I entered first. She followed.
Marcia glanced around the barren great room. “Not much for looking at in here.”
“I’m never here. It’s a backup option. That’s all.”
“How long are you planning on keeping me here?”
“We’ll start with tonight and see where it goes.”
She looked like she wanted to argue with me. Instead she took a seat at the dining table.
I went into the kitchen. A small white fridge with a chrome handle stood next to the stove. I opened the door, grabbed two bottles of water. I placed a bottle in front of Marcia, and took a seat opposite her.
“You said my life was in danger,” I said. “You said the web was closing in on me. Care to elaborate now?”
She brought the bottle to her mouth and tilted her head back. She swallowed, then licked her red lips. Her lipstick coated the rim of the bottle.
“I’m not who you think I am,” she said.
“I could say the same,” I said.
She smiled, looked down at her hands. Her fingernails were long. They matched her lipstick. She drummed them against the table in a slow, steady motion, starting with her pinky finger.
“You’re Jack Noble. You were born in Crystal River, Florida. You grew up there. Your mother is deceased, your father is still living. You have one brother. His name is Sean. He has a wife, Deborah, and a daughter, Kelly. There are no aunts, uncles, cousins, or anything like that. You had a sister. She was four years older than you, two years older than Sean. She died at the age of sixteen.”
I looked away. No one knew about Molly, not even my closest friends. She’d been abducted. I witnessed it. Did nothing when it happened. Paralyzed by fear. It was the last time something like that happened to me. Four days later they found her in the woods. Someone had bound her hands and legs together, and slit her throat. I let the rest of the details deteriorate over time.
Marcia continued. “You entered the Marines at the age of eighteen, although it wasn’t long before they realized you were special. A co-op with the CIA followed. You did things in the States that the CIA wasn’t allowed to do. Then you went to Europe for a few months. Then the world changed in September, 2001. You and your partner Riley were sent to Iraq before most anyone else. Information gatherers, right?”
“More like henchmen who guarded front doors.”
“The program you were in was dubbed a success by some, a failure by others. Some wanted to shut it down. Someone else didn’t. That someone was high ranking and he got greedy. You confronted General Keller head on. The evidence you gathered did you no good, though. Nothing ever came of it. Keller stepped down in time. You moved on.”
“How do you know all this?”
She took another drink from her bottle. A trickle slipped past the corner of her mouth and ran down her chin. She wiped her face with the back of her wrist.
“You pulled some strings and got out of the Marines. After what had happened, no one protested. They thought it would keep you quiet. And it did. You were scooped up by another organization. It was no accident that the SIS came calling, Jack. Only, they were pushed into action almost too late. In fact, if they hadn’t managed to delay Jessie’s flight, she would have reached you before Frank Skinner did. Then what would have happened?”
I slid my right hand off the table and wrapped it around my pistol.
She continued. “You did plenty in your time with the SIS. But, in the end, it wasn’t for you. Your true calling came to fruition when you set out on your own. Right?”
I said nothing.
“The thing is, Jack, you still flirted with the pretty girls whenever they called. You took job after job. It didn’t seem to matter who called. You’d do a job for one guy, and then turn around and kill him if someone else paid you enough money. You took the calls from the SIS, and other organizations. You did work for your friends in London. The French called on you from time to time.”
I slid my hand from my pistol to my pocket and retrieved the paper from Jessie’s house.
“I appreciate the history lesson, Marcia. But what does any of this have to do with right now?”
She pushed back in her chair, rose and turned. Her black pants hugged her curves. She walked across the room. Her footsteps echoed against the wall. She stopped, appeared to stare at the wall. Her hands were clasped behind her back. She tugged on her fingers one by one.
I leaned back and waited for her to continue.
“What did you learn in Florida, Jack?”
Was now the right time to present my evidence?
“I’m not sure what you mean, Marcia.”
She turned around. Her lips were pursed. She swung her arms forward, grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, let them fall to her waist. She was a powerful woman on the inside and outside. She knew how to present it and appear intimidating without being threatening. I dwelled on what she had said earlier.
“I’m not who you think I am.”
She said, “Did you find out anything about your friend?”
I said, “We’ve been talking a lot about me. Let’s hear about you.”
She shook her head. “In time. Just go along with this, please. It is relevant.”
“She didn’t kill herself. At first, I thought it was her husband and his brother and brother’s friend. The evidence I uncovered suggests otherwise.”
Marcia walked back to the table. She pulled out the seat next to me. She placed her hand on my forearm. “You can do better than that, Jack.”
“Why should I?”
She said nothing. She looked serious, apprehensive, frightened even. Up close and under the lighting I saw the faint traces of crow’s feet extending from the corners of her eyes. Shallow lines spread across her forehead. They did nothing to detract from her beauty. I refocused and answered her question.
“OK, here’s how it went down. I suspected her husband and his brother. There had always been bad blood between us. It seemed natural. He had an alibi, apparently solid. He accused me of having a long distance affair with Jessie.”
“Had you?”
“I last saw her over ten years ago, after the Keller affair. It sounded like you already knew that.”
“OK, continue.”
“Glenn, her husband, had evidence. He showed it to me. To him, it indicated secret rendezvous and things like that. To me, it was a hit list, and my name was on it.”
She didn’t seem surprised. “Was there anything else?”
/>
“It was all gone. I assume whoever took her out, stole or destroyed everything. Hell, she might have been expecting them and had it all in a folder. Maybe she knew they were coming and destroyed it herself.”
She placed one elbow on the table and propped it under her jaw. “Can you describe the evidence you saw?”
“I can do better than that.”
I tossed the folded paper onto the table. She grabbed it and opened it up. Her eyes scanned left to right, focusing on the code.
“What do you make of that?” I said.
She said nothing.
“Any idea who has me on a kill on sight list?”
She still said nothing. Her lips moved as she went over the jumbled mess of letters and numbers on the page. She looked up at me.
I waited for her to say something.
She glanced down at the page again. Her lips moved some more. I couldn’t make out the words she formed. She finished, and looked up at me again.
“Jack, have you ever heard of FATF?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said automatically. “On second thought, no.”
“FATF is a special task force within the OECD. Have you heard of them?”
“Yeah, it’s an international organization that has something to do with economic policy, right?”
She nodded. “Close enough. The FATF task force deals with money laundering on a global scale. This is big due to terrorism, and there is a large focus on Africa right now. Those groups are the primary target.”
“OK. What’s that have to do with me?”
She glanced down at the paper. “Was this all there was?”
“We searched the office. The drawers were empty. Their PC had been wiped. Like I said, whoever was sent to take out Jessie did a nice job of cleaning the place, or she did it first.”
She held up the paper. “This is all written in the same hand, but I’d venture to say it was at the very least days apart. You can see the ink is different. The code is in black, and your name is in dark blue.”
“What’s the code say?”
She rose and paced around the table. “It talks about the FATF and a target. It has nothing to do with you. At least, not as far as I can tell.”
“Who’s the target?”
“I can’t tell that part, unfortunately. It doesn’t match with the rest of the message.”
“What?”
“Code within the code.”
“Marcia, how were you able to tell what that paper says?”
She stopped, placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Before my foray into law, I worked in MI5, undercover.”
“How come Sasha hasn’t mentioned this to me?”
“She doesn’t know. Our paths never crossed. I was never on the payroll under my name.”
“You left about five years ago?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“My cover was blown.”
“How?”
“I was exposed during an investigation of Jessie Staley.”
Chapter 38
Hearing Jessie’s name knocked me back. I brought both hands to the top of my head. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Hearing her husband’s accusations was one thing. Seeing the paper with my name on it, another. A woman who claimed to be a secret agent for Britain’s counter-intelligence agency telling me that she investigated Jessie felt earth shattering.
“What were you investigating her for?” I said.
“It was so long ago, Jack, I can’t remember all the details.”
“It was your last case. I’m sure you remember some of it.”
She took a seat next to me again. “Your evidence against Keller was destroyed all those years ago.”
I nodded.
“Jessie did that.”
I nodded again.
“Do you know why?”
“They threatened her parents.”
“Yes. And what does a bully do when they know threats work?”
I looked away. “They keep making them.”
“Correct.”
“Who?” I said.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Jack.”
“Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter. They killed her, and judging by that paper, they want me dead, too.”
“You’re not the only one,” she said. “I’m a loose end.”
“When this happened, did they get your name, or your cover?”
“Cover, but it is obvious that someone recognized me.”
I studied her for a moment. “So, these attacks that are happening, the reason you wanted me around, was because you aren’t dealing with thugs. These are professional killers? Why are you out in the streets every day? Why are you running for public office? Why not run off and hide?”
“They can find me anywhere. Don’t you get it? They’ll get to me one way or another. I’m going to go out on my own terms.”
I thought through what she had said. Part of me refused to believe it. It wasn’t possible.
“Tell me what you know about Jessie’s role in all of this,” I said.
“I knew about Jessie’s death before you did. I received an anonymous call. That’s why I pressed for you to join me. I knew they were close.”
“Tell me what you know about what she was involved in.”
“She was used as a runner. When something had to be transported, she was called. I’m talking about very sensitive documents, Jack. They stopped using electronic communications because we caught too much of it.”
“How would she transport them? They wouldn’t risk giving her a folder, would they?”
“Often it’s in the form of a chip. They’ll implant it in the flesh.”
I thought back to the morgue. She had a recent cut on her arm about an inch long.
Marcia pushed the sheet in front of me. “Other times they’d memorize it.”
I studied her face. She was unwavering.
“I spoke to her several times during my investigation years ago. We encountered each other. She put on a tough front, but I could tell she was scared. She opened up to me. That’s how I know about the threats to her family. They never let up. They threatened her kids, who were babies at the time.”
“How’d you get busted?”
“I let my guard down.”
I waited for her to continue. She didn’t.
“All that stuff you know about me, is that from being in MI5?”
She nodded, said nothing.
“So you don’t know anything recent?”
“No, not really.”
I pushed my chair back and rose. She stared up at me. I walked past her, toward the front door.
“I’m going out for a bit. You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I stepped outside. After a few days of oppressive humidity, I welcomed the cool night air. I walked down the driveway. The trees rose up into the sky and blocked the streetlight two houses down. I reached the curb and turned right.
My mind raced from one thought to the next. The revelation about the extent of Jessie’s activities came as a partial shock. I saw it coming, even if I’d tried to avoid it. She gave up our evidence against Keller. They had her from that moment on.
Who, though? What did they have her do? How often? Where did I fit into this? If Marcia was right, and my name had been added to that paper after the fact, why had it come up?
I looked up at the clear sky. “I wish you could talk to me, Jess.”
She couldn’t, though. And for all I knew, the clues had been there and I’d missed them.
I continued along the street. A dog barked from behind a chain link fence. My thoughts turned to April for the first time since I’d left. I wondered if she knew anything about this. That was doubtful. Perhaps Deb did, though. She and Jessie had remained tight. Maybe something had slipped over a glass of wine. I pulled out my phone. It was eight o’clock in Florida. They’d still be up.
Sean answered.
“Are you guys
OK?” I said.
“We’re all good. We made it up to—”
“Don’t tell me. It’s best I don’t know.”
“What’s going on, Jack?”
“Is Deb around?”
“Sure, but can you tell me first?”
“No.” I paused. “Sorry, I just can’t yet. I’m not sure.”
“OK.” He said something in the background, then Deb came on.
“Jack?”
“Deb, I need you to think back over the last five years. Did Jessie ever say anything to you that indicated she was in danger?”
“With her husband?”
“No, not him, just in general. Did it ever sound like she feared for her life?”
“Her life? No, not that I can think of.”
“When she went away, what did she tell you?”
“She went out of town for sales conferences and on trips she had won. She took me once. We went to Jamaica.”
“Did anything out of the ordinary happen there?”
“Pretty ordinary, Jack. We were well past our party days.”
“OK. Tell Sean I’ll call in the morning.”
I turned and headed back to the house. The same dog barked when I passed his yard. I hoped that a moment of clarity would find me as easily as the dog. It didn’t. I walked up to the front door more confused than when I had left.
I glanced to the side. The bedroom window was lit up. Marcia had found it. I figured she had lain down, so I quietly opened the door.
I heard the sound of her voice. It was muffled. I couldn’t tell what she’d said, but it seemed as if she spoke with an American accent. I stood in the entryway for a moment. The call ended before I could hear anything else.
The bedroom door creaked open. Marcia stepped out. With nothing to change into, she had on the same clothes.
“I didn’t know you were back,” she said.
“Just got here,” I said.
She walked past me.
“I swear I heard an American accent coming out of your room.”
She looked back, smiled and nodded. “I was on the phone with my sister.”
“Your sister?”
“She’s worried about me.”
“And she speaks like she’s from the States?”
Marcia stopped and turned. “My father ran off to the U.S. when I was young. He remarried and had three more children. Anna, the oldest of the three, and I are close. That’s who I was speaking with. She is very American. Even more than you.”
9 More Killer Thrillers Page 70