by Jack Higgins
“Meaning you don’t want us to overhear,” Rich said.
“You’re welcome to stay and listen.” He was already dialling.
“Let’s go and pack,” Jade said.
Dad gave them a wave as he spoke into the phone. “This is Chance. Can you have Mr Ardman call me back on this number with maximum encryption… Yes, it is rather urgent.”
The hotel manager arrived and offered Chance a drink while he was waiting for his call. The manager was a stooped, middle-aged man with slicked back hair that was obviously dyed as well as oiled. He poured a double whisky and dropped in two ice cubes that Chance didn’t want.
The phone rang as Chance took a sip of the whisky. He held the mobile up for the manager to see. “Private,” he said simply.
The manager nodded. He was about to leave, then as an afterthought put the bottle of whisky on the table beside Chance.
Chance turned away slightly as he answered the call. “Chance here…” He waved his appreciation at the manager’s disappearing back. “Yeah, I did say it was urgent. I thought you’d like to know that the Mafia and the Krejikistan underworld, and probably Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, know about what happened at Mont Passat.” Chance explained about his meeting with Ralph and Scevola.
They talked through the implications of Chance’s meeting with Ralph for several minutes. Chance asked: “So, any reason to think the Tiger might be looking for us, apart from what I’ve been told here?”
“None so far,” Ardman’s measured, slightly plummy tones answered. He sounded cautious rather than angry at the events Chance had described. “It’s a possibility. We always knew that.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“You didn’t need to know.”
“So, what do I need to know, if not that a sadistic criminal mastermind is looking for me.”
“He’s looking for the Banker, not you.” Ardman pointed out. “And the good news is that his ability to find you has been severely curtailed since he can’t get at most of his money. Unfortunately,” he went on, “neither can we. But that’s something for me to worry about.”
“The Banker not coming up with the goods?”
“The Banker is being most helpful. But it seems that he doesn’t actually know the account numbers and pass codes we need to get at the funds. The Treasury is all set to freeze the accounts and the United Nations has a special committee that can agree to seize the funds on an international basis. And now I have to tell them that we can’t find the money.”
“But how can that be? The Banker—”
“The Banker has so many cut-outs and security measures and failsafes he makes MI5 look like a show home.”
“So how do you get the account details?” Chance asked.
“We’re working on that. There is a way. But the Banker wants to be absolutely sure he is completely safe before he tells us. So at the moment I have him secure and looked after. He’s starting his new life. We’ve arranged to make sure he feels comfortable that there’s help within reach. But you can believe me – the Tiger isn’t going to find him.”
“Yes, well, I expect I don’t need to know,” Chance said. “Come to that, I don’t want to know. And, as you say, meanwhile the money’s going nowhere, so there’s no rush. Not unless the Tiger—”
Ardman cut him off. “Never mind about the Tiger. I think we’ve blunted his claws, at least for now. You enjoy the rest of your holiday. You’re back tomorrow, is that right?”
“That’s right. Then straight down to Cleeveholme for the start of term.”
“I had your stuff shipped to the cottage from your London flat,” Ardman said. “You’ll be quite comfortable there. Do you good to have a break, and the children will appreciate you being nearby. I got the distinct impression they didn’t want to go to a boarding school.”
“At least with me in the village they can live at the cottage instead of in the school. And if I do need to go away, I reckon I can persuade them to stay for a night or two.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Not for a while. You’re on extended leave, I won’t be calling you back in until I’m sure you’re settled and everything is working out.”
“Thanks,” Chance said. “But what’s the catch?”
“You’re no use to me if your heart and mind are on other matters. And it’ll give you the opportunity to get your breath back after Krejikistan and Mont Passat. Sort out your family life.”
Chance raised his eyebrows. “I’d better make a start then,” he said, ending the call before Ardman could change his mind.
It didn’t take Jade and Rich long to pack their things. Apart from clothes they’d not brought much – a few books and music players.
They had separate rooms, opposite each other across a narrow corridor. Dad’s room was next to Rich’s. As they sorted their stuff, they left the doors open so they could talk. There were very few guests at the hotel apart from themselves, and the floor they were on only had one other room.
“Looking forward to school?” Rich asked.
“Get real.”
“I am. Looking forward to it, I mean.”
“Yeah, right. Course you are.”
“I am,” Rich insisted. He left his rucksack leaning against the little wardrobe in his room and went over to join Jade. “Really. I think it’ll be good. You and me together, a new start. And living in a village, that sounds neat.”
“It sounds boring.” Jade sat down on her bed. “A village? What’s there to do in a village? So far as I can tell there’s our cottage and the school and that’s about it.”
“There’ll be things on at school, though,” Rich said. “They do that at posh private schools – loads of clubs and after school stuff.”
Jade grunted. “Posh. Like we’ll fit in.”
“I doubt if it’s really posh,” Rich said. He sat down beside her on the bed. “People with money. That’s not the same thing.”
“We’re not rich either.”
“So, no one will know.”
“We will.”
“Do we care?” Rich asked her.
Jade smiled at that. “No,” she said. “No, we don’t. A school’s a school and kids are kids and we’ll make friends and have a good time. And live at home – you, me and…” Her smile turned into a frown. “And Dad.”
“He’s all right.”
“I know.” Jade sighed. “But just when I think he’s being honest with us and we’re getting somewhere, he pulls a stunt like at the casino.”
Rich nodded. “Yeah. But you know, I was thinking – that’s his job. I mean, if he was, I don’t know, a car salesman, we’d be upset because we go on holiday and he tries to sell a car to any bloke he meets who seems interested. If he was a writer, he’d be forever scribbling rubbish in some notebook.”
Jade considered this. “I guess we’re lucky he’s not a taxidermist,” she said.
Rich laughed. “If he was, we could tell him to get stuffed.”
A car arrived for them the next morning. It was the same black limo that Rich had been bundled into the day before. But now its bonnet was scratched and dented. One of the headlights was cracked, like the face of Rich’s watch.
“Compliments of Ralph,” the driver told them. It was one of the men who had chased them. “He apologises for not coming in person, but he is rather busy. He will meet you at the airport.”
“There’s no need,” Dad told the driver. But the driver did not answer as he helped Jade and Rich put their bags in the enormous boot.
“What happened to your car?” Rich asked, pointing at the bonnet.
“Best not mention it,” Dad said quietly. “Might be a touchy subject.”
The car drove them to a quay where Ralph’s speedboat was waiting. Then after a noisy, windswept boat trip another large black car – not dented – drove them to the airport. It pulled up in an area clearly marked as no waiting.
Ralph was standing inside the terminal building. He handed Dad a pile of ti
ckets. “You are already checked in. Mario will organise your luggage, and I have arranged for you to wait in the luxury lounge until your plane is ready. I have boarding passes for you here. Security is a nightmare these days, you know. I even had to show them your passports.”
“You don’t have our passports,” Rich told him.
“I know,” Ralph said. “Like I said – a nightmare. But all sorted now.” He handed the boarding passes to Dad. “Oh, I’m sorry to see Her Majesty’s Government is clearly cutting back on things, so I took the opportunity to upgrade you to first class. I hope that’s all right.”
“Nice,” Jade told him. “Thanks.”
“You’re too kind,” Dad said. “But don’t expect any favours in return.”
“As if.” Ralph smiled. “Now, I will say goodbye and I wish you good luck. May you enjoy a Tiger-free life.”
“I’m sure we will. But thanks for the warning.” Dad turned to Rich and Jade. “Come on then, just time to look in the tatty gift shops before we head for the lounge.”
“Ah!” Ralph called them back. “No need – I almost forgot. I have taken care of that too.” He pulled a small package wrapped in tissue paper from his jacket pocket.
“You’ve bought us tatty gifts,” Dad said, amused.
“I’m not sure ‘tatty’ is the word I would use. But gifts, yes – to apologise again for the inconvenience.”
The package was in fact three small packages. Ralph weighed each in his hand and felt it carefully before handing them out.
Jade unwrapped hers and found it contained a necklace of large bright blue glass beads.
“Murano glass,” Ralph explained. “Hand made. Unique. I, er, I had to buy rather a lot of Murano glass yesterday. Some of it broken. A slight accident in a local shop.”
Rich had a watch. “Is it real?” he asked, seeing the Rolex name across the dial.
“It is a real watch,” Ralph told him with a smile. “But, knowing where it came from, I cannot vouch one hundred per cent for it’s authenticity. But it tells the time, so what more could you want? I noticed you could do with a new one.”
“Thanks,” Rich said. “It’s pretty impressive, real or not.” He put on the watch, stuffing his old one with the cracked face into his pocket. The new watch was chunky and heavy.
Ralph helped Jade put on the necklace as Dad unwrapped his gift.
“The beads match your eyes,” Ralph told Jade. “Perfect.” She smiled, unable to hide her appreciation.
Dad held up a silver hip flask. “Thank you.” He shook it gently. “And you filled it for me.”
“Mineral water,” Ralph said. He smiled at Jade, then watched with amusement as Dad unscrewed the top and sniffed at the contents.
“Woah.” Dad moved the flask from his nose quickly and blinked rapidly.
“Special Russian mineral water,” Ralph explained. “The flask, I am told, could stop a bullet. Which seemed appropriate. After all – you never know.”
“Maybe not,” Dad said. “But I doubt it’ll be necessary. I spoke to Ardman last night, passed on your message.”
“Good. And?”
“And we are both agreed,” Dad said. “There’s really no way the Tiger can find the Banker or me. Thanks for the concern – and for the gifts and the upgrade – but we’ll be quite safe.”
The Tiger had been summoned to a meeting. He did not like being summoned, but sometimes it was important to maintain a façade, to do things he didn’t like.
His mobile phone rang as he approached the conference room. He glanced at the caller name, then excused himself. “I think I’d better take this,” he told the people with him, putting down his expensive leather briefcase.
Bannock’s voice was loud and excited in his ear. “We’ve got something!”
“About time too, if I may say so,” the Tiger said quietly. He turned slightly to smile and wave at his colleagues, gesturing for them to go ahead into the conference room.
“On the CCTV and from talking to the staff at the casino.”
“You’ve found how he got out?”
“No. But we have identified a suspect. Someone I think you’d be interested in. Someone who was at the casino that night and left the next morning.”
“That sounds very promising. Do we know where this person is now?”
“Working on it,” Bannock said. “He went from Mont Passat to Venice. We’re checking departures now. Should have an answer soon.”
“The sooner the better,” the Tiger told him. “This is very important to me, Bannock. Very important.” He didn’t need to spell out the consequences of failure.
“I understand. I’ll call you again as soon as I have more news.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” For the first time in days, the Tiger was feeling good. Things were coming together at last. He pushed his mobile into his jacket pocket, picked up his briefcase and walked briskly to the conference room.
It looked as though everyone else was here. The man who had called the meeting was standing at the head of the table, ready to start.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” the Tiger said, making his way to his seat. As he passed the man standing at the head of the table, he added: “I do hope this won’t take long, Mr Ardman.”
7
Jade wouldn’t admit it, but she actually enjoyed the twenty minute walk every morning from Dad’s cottage to the school – though she knew that might change as the autumn weather kicked in. The first ten minutes were the best – through the all but deserted village. The second half of the walk was along the winding school driveway, up a shallow incline and through a wooded area. Finally, the old manor house appeared as they turned a bend in the drive. The old house had been added to when it became a school. There was a new block with the school hall, maths and English classrooms and an adjoining IT suite. The newer parts of the building dwarfed the Georgian splendour of the main house.
It was a lovely walk. But by this time, other children were arriving. Rich and Jade were the only pupils from the tiny village. But some children came on a local bus that stopped at the bottom of the drive. Because the one-way system in and out of the school meant there were always queues of traffic, a lot more children were dropped at the gates and walked up the drive – with Jade and Rich.
Not that they were bad kids. Jade found she got on better than she expected with most of them. She’d even made a few hesitant friends in her class. It was the teachers who were a pain – who told Jade she had an “attitude” and who always thought they knew best. If she was quiet in class, they told her off for being uncommunicative. If she made an effort and joined in, she was showing off.
Rich, on the other hand, fitted in fine. He’d joined a computer gaming group and the drama club, and got a couple of merits for homework. No one had said it yet, but Jade knew from experience that it was only a matter of time: “Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
It was a shock to her when she realised that this was something her father had never said.
“We said we’d give it a term,” Rich reminded Jade as they joined the stream of pupils heading up the drive. “Dad agreed. At least, he didn’t say no.”
“We’re here for good,” Jade said glumly. “Though I guess it’s no worse than anywhere else.”
“You kidding? The cottage is great. Better than the poky flat in London with just one bedroom between us.”
“And the bullet-holed wallpaper. Yeah.” Jade paused to glare at Mike Alten from their year who’d caught her words and was staring at her. He laughed nervously, obviously thinking she was joking. His laugh stopped as it occurred to him that, knowing Jade, maybe she wasn’t.
“It’s quiet and out of the way and exclusive,” Rich was saying. “Just what Dad and Ardman want.”
“Doesn’t matter what they want,” Jade told him. “What do we want?”
“I’m happy enough.” He grinned and swung slightly so he nudged her with his rucksack. “And you don’t know what you w
ant, do you?”
“I want to be able to bring my mobile into school,” Jade said.
“Against the rules. No mobiles. Not even for the boarders.”
They were walking past the block where the boarders lived. It was a modern block separate from the rest of the school buildings. About thirty children lived in. At the end of the school day, the boarders were sent back there to do their homework and get their tea. Then they could watch TV and generally muck about until their bedtimes.
“I know what I don’t want,” Jade muttered. “I don’t want to spend the evening stuck in detention while you’re at drama.”
Rich laughed. “Should have thought about that in geography, instead of drawing a cartoon of Miss Fletcher. With a moustache and horns.”
The teachers had a rota for running detention. Whichever teacher was in charge decided where it would be – usually in their own classroom so they could get on with some preparation or marking. Jade had been in detention a few days before, when it was run my Mr Rawlings, the PE instructor. He’d made them take desks out on to the all-weather pitch and sit there in the cold drizzle for two hours. Jade had told him exactly what she thought of it.
Which was why she was back tonight. And despite having promised Dad that she would do her best to avoid getting any more detentions, she was already booked in for tomorrow as well. But at least this time they were indoors. The new maths teacher, Mr Argent, was taking his turn tonight and tomorrow so they were upstairs in the main maths room.
As she was the only one, Jade concentrated on her work and the time went quickly. Eight o’clock soon came round, and Jade gathered her things and stuffed them in her rucksack.
“Off now, all right?” she said.
Mr Argent was a small man, new to the school, with thinning grey hair and little round glasses that were so thick they made his eyes look enormous through them. He glanced up from his marking and nodded.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jade.” He had a slight accent – French, Jade guessed.
“Good night,” she muttered as she left. Dad had said he’d walk up to meet them. Which probably meant another lecture on not getting into detention.