Louisa turned to the super’s secretary. ‘Appointments?’
‘There are only ten for tomorrow so far,’ Ms Hargreaves said brightly. ‘I’ll send you the schedule.’
The super stood then, signalling an end to the meeting. Louisa rose and shook his hand. She wasn’t unaware of what had just happened. They were using her. The inspector job might never materialise. But at that moment she really didn’t care. They could have busted her down to constable and she would still have left the room with a broad smile on her face.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
‘I believe congratulations are in order, Inspector.’ Simon Carlyle grinned at Louisa. He was propped up in his hospital bed and as Louisa entered the room he shooed away the three Portal staff members hovering around him. When they left Louisa gave him a peck on the cheek.
Simon adopted a hurt expression. ‘Is that all I get?’
Louisa couldn’t help but smile. ‘For the time being. I don’t want to give you another heart attack.’
Simon laughed, then winced and clutched his side. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, seeing Louisa’s worried look. ‘Fit as a fiddle. The doctors say I’ll make a full recovery.’
According to his doctors, Simon was lucky to be alive, but he would never admit it. Benoit’s attack had inflicted third degree burns to his side as well as interrupting his heart’s normal rhythms. His heart had stopped twice in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
‘How do you know about my temporary promotion, anyway?’ Louisa asked. ‘I’ve just found out myself.’
‘Who do you think’s been harassing the Chief Inspector, demanding an interview with the new face of the Metropolitan Police? The heroine who exposed corruption in the heart of Portal.’
Louisa cringed at the quote. She’d seen it repeated often enough in newscasts over the last few days. ‘You didn’t come up with that, did you?’
Simon shrugged. ‘Public opinion is a fickle beast. You’re not angry with me, are you?’
Louisa softened her stern expression, realising she had indeed been about to have a go at Simon for interfering. God knows she’d had her fill of manipulation over the last week. But Simon was right. Public opinion could easily have turned against her. There was a fine line between his portrayal of her and a flip side where she was a Hater trying to bring down the network Portal devotees loved. And without all the positive press directed her way the meeting with the super might have ended very differently. ‘No, of course not.’ She took his hand. ‘Thank you, Simon. I appreciate it. I really do.’ He smiled and raised her hand to his lips. ‘But I hear I’m not the only one with a promotion?’
Simon sighed. ‘It was Dietrich’s idea. His last act as a board member. I didn’t want it at first, but I guess someone has to pick up the pieces. Once I agreed to take over as CEO, he resigned.’
‘How is Dietrich? He must be taking what happened to Benoit hard.’
‘He’s been better. Adam and Dietrich raised Benoit together. He sees what happened as his own fault as much as Benoit’s.’
Louisa was saddened at the thought of Dietrich alone at his farmhouse, blaming himself for Benoit’s actions. At least he was leaving Portal in the hands of someone he trusted. ‘I don’t envy you. Every news outlet in the world is baying for Portal’s blood.’
‘I don’t believe Portal is finished quite yet. We’ve yet to see how the open-sourcing move will pan out.’
Simon’s first action as CEO had certainly been radical—he’d open-sourced the majority of Portal’s codebase, from Portal’s operating systems to the software controlling the terminals’ nanoware. He gambled that if industry experts had full access to Portal’s source code then the arguments Portal was secretly spying on the public would be countered. While the newscasts hailed it as a stroke of genius that would help to quell public anger, the non-Portal media contested he’d signed the company’s death warrant. So far his theory had worked. Public anger was calming. But it remained to be seen what the global web would do with unlimited access to Portal’s software secrets. Competitors would inevitably make use of the code to launch rival services. Would the increase in competition destroy Portal financially? No-one knew for sure.
Ed Cooley had certainly been impressed by the move. After not hearing a word from Ed since Benoit’s arrest she’d called down to the Cave to look for him. It turned out he’d taken an indefinite leave of absence. It was highly unusual for Ed. Louisa didn’t think he’d ever voluntarily taken time off work. When she called to his home his mother explained he’d taken off with Kenneth Barry to ‘fully explore the Portal codebase’. His mother hadn’t seen Ed in days and was beside herself. Louisa promised she’d let her know if Ed got in touch, but she wasn’t overly concerned. She suspected he’d simply switched his ever singularly focussed attention to the new project he was working on with Ken. Whatever it was, Louisa was confident she would hear about it in due course, along with everyone else in London, she suspected. She always knew Ed was capable of great things if he directed that razor-sharp intellect of his towards some worthwhile goal.
‘You know,’ Simon said, ‘you still haven’t told me what happened with Benoit after I lost consciousness.’
Louisa had kept her promise to White Hat. She hadn’t told anyone about him, not even Simon. It wasn’t that she thought she couldn’t trust Simon, but she owed White Hat a debt. ‘I don’t know. He grabbed his head, then he collapsed. Don’t your techies know what happened?’
‘They’re looking into it, but so far they’re drawing a blank.’ She stared at Louisa for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Who knows, it was probably MI6. Maybe they’d finally had enough of his crap and decided to cut him loose.’
‘What about MI6? Have they been in touch with you?’
‘No, and I’m having nothing to do with them if they do approach me. I assigned a team in Portal to remove what they were working on from the network. If they don’t like it they know where to find me.’
Simon hadn’t mentioned it, but Louisa knew he was talking about the subcarrier signal. Perhaps MI6 would cut their losses and leave Portal alone now. But somehow Louisa didn’t believe they’d give up on gaining access to Portal’s data so easily.
‘I’ve seen the sense logs of the research lab, you know,’ Simon said.
‘Oh?’ Louisa tried her best to keep a straight face, even though she was running through in her head everything that had happened in the lab.
‘Yes. I saw everything. Except for what happened inside Adam Walsh’s old office. Is that where you met with White Hat?’
‘It was.’
‘But…you’re not going to tell me any more, are you?’
‘I’m sorry Simon. I made a promise.’
‘Well, I can respect that, I suppose,’ Simon said, even though his expression indicated otherwise. He can’t have been used to anyone hiding something from him, especially now he was CEO. Those Portal employees had certainly jumped fast enough when he told them to leave. ‘Can you at least tell me if I need to worry about this person? I’m trying to rebuild Portal, but another data leak will finish us.’
‘I don’t believe White Hat is a threat. He got what he wanted. He’s gone, Simon.’
Simon nodded slowly. Then he smiled. ‘Well, then. I’d say we have a few minutes before the Portal execs I threw out start banging on the door.’ He patted the bed beside him. ‘Care to keep me company until they do?’
Louisa hopped up onto the bed and lay down, resting her head on Simon’s chest. Once Simon was discharged he wouldn’t have a lot of time for her, not with the demands Portal would put on him. From the look of the schedule Ms Hargreaves had sent she wouldn’t have much spare time either.
Louisa closed her eyes. It was strange. The intimate closeness she had felt with John had developed slowly and over months of dating. Perhaps not even coalescing fully until after they had been married for a few years. With Simon it came so naturally, like they had known each other forever. No matter what their fu
ture brought, she was determined to make the most of the time they had together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A life tragically cut short. A beautiful young woman, beloved of her family and friends. Claire’s mother burst into tears at the first mention of her daughter’s name. Mr Harris attempted in vain to comfort his wife, his face twisted in grief.
The funeral sermon focussed on Claire’s life and the positive impact she had on everyone who shared that life with her. At first Louisa listened intently, keen to learn more about Claire from those who knew her best, but this Claire wasn’t the runaway who’d lived on London’s streets before suffering six months of mental and physical abuse at the hands of Professor Keenan and Benoit Walsh. This Claire, the gifted young schoolgirl with a bright future ahead of her, was someone else entirely. Louisa felt the divide between herself and the other mourners keenly. The sermon was for their comfort and closure, not hers. It was a time to remember Claire’s life and to celebrate it, not rake over the coals of her untimely death. What right did she have to be there, really?
She might have left before the service was over if Ben hadn’t been by her side. When Louisa decided to drive up for the funeral she had immediately thought of him. When she tracked him down he gratefully accepted the offer of a lift. It struck her that since Claire was being buried in Manchester this might be Ben’s only opportunity to visit her grave.
After the sermon concluded, she joined the long line of people waiting to pay their respects to Claire’s parents. She’d been dreading this moment and had gone over in her head countless times what she might say to Claire’s mother, but nothing she came up with seemed appropriate somehow. When the time came to speak to Mrs Harris Louisa could only manage a few words expressing her sorrow and regret for their loss. Thankfully Claire’s mother showed no signs she recognised Louisa, and Louisa didn’t introduce herself for fear of the upset it would cause.
It was freezing at the gravesite, of course. It always was at funerals. She remembered shivering at her own parents’ funerals as she stood by their gravesides, surrounded by people yet feeling utterly alone. She was grateful for Ben’s company. Rick’s funeral had taken place a few weeks previously and even though she was amongst her fellow officers she hadn’t anyone she could really talk to about his death. Louisa visited his wife not long after Benoit’s arrest. Sarah had responded to Louisa’s words of sympathy reflexively, her face shockingly pale. Louisa knew what the woman must have been thinking, that Ouza had been sent to kill Louisa, not Rick. If it hadn’t have been for Louisa Rick might still be alive. The thought continued to haunt Louisa. At least Benoit and Korehkov would pay the price for their roles in Rick’s death, but what about MI6? Would they ever be called to account?
Ben was receiving some odd looks from the mourners. He kept his head lowered and shifted uncomfortably. He was still wearing his street clothes—a mismatched ensemble that included his baseball cap, a blue waterproof mac and a pair of ragged jeans. He had acquired them for warmth and repelling the elements, not for attending funerals. She felt for the lad. It couldn’t have been easy for him. He’d loved Claire dearly, but hadn’t introduced himself to Claire’s parents either. Like me, he feels like an outsider.
As everyone waited for the minister to start his reading, a low murmur rippled through the mourners. Someone had recognised her. Louisa realised it immediately in the looks shot her way as they whispered amongst themselves.
Then Claire’s mother was told. Louisa witnessed the moment as it happened. A whisper in Mrs Harris’ ear, a flash of shock, then the woman tuned to stare at Louisa. Louisa tensed and prepared to leave, not wanting to upset anyone, least of all Claire’s mother. But strangely the woman didn’t appear angry. Mrs Harris held Louisa’s gaze for a long moment, before mouthing ‘thank you’.
A lump formed in Louisa’s throat and her vision blurred with sudden tears. She took a deep breath and nodded to Claire’s mother. Thankfully then, before Louisa lost all control herself, the minister started to speak and attention shifted away from her.
*
‘Can we go now?’ Ben asked.
The minister had finished his prayers and the mourners were drifting away. But one man remained behind. He was tall, stockily built, in a dark suit and long black woollen coat. He looked to be in his late forties, but his jet-black hair showed no signs of greying. He was staring straight at her. He gave her a slow nod, then moved to stand beside another grave.
‘Why don’t you head back to the car park?’ Louisa took out her terminal and unlocked the car. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
Louisa walked over to join the man.
‘Sad business,’ he said. He had a Scottish accent. Softer than Simon Carlyle’s. ‘It can’t be easy for the family, what with all the media attention coming from Walsh’s arrest.’
‘Yes, I expect so,’ Louisa said. The official press had the decency to give the family some space, but she’d spotted a few red-flashing irises in the church. They were capturing the event, no doubt for sharing with their subscribers or for resale to one of the many global media outlets still clamouring for anything related to Benoit’s fall from grace. The uplink to the Portal network must have cost them a small fortune. The Guerrilla Casters had swarmed Rick’s funeral as well, but the MET were on the look-out for them and quietly evicted them from the service. ‘Have we met?’
‘No, but I believe you knew one of my colleagues. Kane Shepherd?’
Louisa’s heart thudded in her chest. ‘We met, once.’
‘You’ve been recently promoted, I hear. To Detective Inspector. Congratulations.’ The agent lit a cigarette and sucked on it greedily, as if the abstention during the funeral had been an unbearable imposition.
What did he want from her? Revenge for what happened to Kane? If that was the case then Louisa didn’t think they’d even be having this conversation. Louisa had hoped MI6 would simply disappear and leave her alone. They’d come out of the Portal scandal clean, after all. Maybe they were curious as to how Benoit’s profile had been leaked. Some Guerrilla Casters had suspected Louisa of leaking the profile. Some even suggested she was behind the previous Portal leak as well, that she was some sort of secret hacker working to undermine Portal, using her technical skills to undermine Portal’s defences whilst seducing Portal’s head of network security. Louisa had laughed when Simon told her about that particular theory. Luckily it didn’t gain traction with any of the popular feeds. Whatever the agent was after, Louisa wanted him to get to the point. ‘Is there something you want from me, Mister—sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’
The man flicked away his cigarette. ‘We like to keep our friends close, Inspector. We are friends, aren’t we?’
What does he mean, friends? Did they really think she was on their side? ‘Whatever deal you had going with Benoit, it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Oh no? After all we’ve done for you I find your attitude ungrateful, frankly.’
Louisa frowned. ‘Like what?’
‘Like keeping Northumbria police off your back. We know you were with Simon Carlyle when he shot Shepherd.’
Louisa’s hands started to shake, but not from the cold. She stuck them into her coat pockets. ‘Did you come here to threaten me?’
The man showed his teeth. ‘I simply wanted to reassure you there wouldn’t be a repeat of the Kane Shepherd incident. Believe me, we won’t make the mistake of underestimating you twice.’ Then the smile vanished and his eyes went hard. ‘But you owe us now. If we need something from you. Anything, I expect complete and utter compliance, understand?’
Louisa nodded. There was little else she could do.
The man held her gaze for a long moment, then grunted in apparent satisfaction. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Inspector.’ He turned and headed after the other mourners.
Louisa shivered. I sure as hell hope not. She stood where she was for a few minutes, waiting for some distance to form between them before she headed back herself.
/> When she got back to the car Ben was listening to a heavy rock band on the net radio. Louisa winced at the crashing guitars and lowered the volume.
‘Are we heading back to London now?’ Ben asked.
‘Yeah, I guess so.’ Back home for me, but what about you? ‘Do you want dropped off anywhere in particular, Ben?’
He checked his watch. ‘Camden, maybe? I know a hostel that doesn’t fill up until late. They might have a bed left by the time I get there.’
And if they don’t have any beds left? A night alone huddled under some bridge? Ben deserved better. With Claire gone he was all alone again. ‘Ben, how do you feel about staying with me for a while?’
‘What?’ Ben gaped at her. ‘I—I don’t know.’
‘I’ve got a spare bedroom lying empty. It’s yours if you want it.’
‘Well, okay,’ Ben grinned. ‘That would be awesome.’
Louisa sniffed and looked away before she welled up. ‘Good. It’s settled then.’
‘Does that mean I can get a terminal?’
Louisa shook her head but grinned all the same. ‘I suppose so. Just one condition, okay?’
‘Yeah?’ Ben asked, a little suspiciously.
‘You’re on my side when it comes to what we watch at meal times. I’m sick of being outvoted.’
A note from the author
Many thanks for buying this book.
To receive an email when I publish any new books please visit this page and enter your email address.
Also if you liked the book it would be great if you could leave a nice review on Amazon or wherever you purchased it from. It would really help to get the book noticed.
Thanks and kind regards,
The London Project (Portal Book 1) Page 34