by Jack L. Pyke
“Recent investigations show that the company who dealt with you doesn’t exist.”
“Oh...” She held Gray’s gaze. “Oh. Then why—”
“The money came from an offshore account belonging to a man who doesn’t exist either.”
She cast a look at Jan. “I know. I did it.”
“Sorry?” said Gray. Jack kept focus on his coffee.
“I mean, I know,” Kate said gently. “It came from my husband’s... funds.” She frowned again, this time dropping her gaze. “I set the account up with funds from that. It wouldn’t—”
“Mom—”
“So it wouldn’t look suspicious.”
“Mom.”
“Jan, Jan, it’s okay, honey. And I’m sorry.” She nodded, wiping away a tear. “I’m sorry, okay.”
Gray sighed and wiped a hand over his face. “I’m going to ask another question, Kate, and understanding how I know it was Jan that set up the offshore account, I’ll give you one chance to answer honestly. If you do, I’ll forget about any misinformation you’ve just given me.”
Kate tried to stand, to go to Jan, but Gray’s gentle touch kept her where he needed her to stay.
“How did you know about your husband’s money, and, from the look of it, Jan’s fraud?”
Kate wiped at her cheek again, once, twice, her other hand gripping her mug hard enough to break it. “Twelve years ago, I was told about the money.” She let out a snort. “By his... so-called friends.”
Jan came over and pulled the chair close to Kate. “Mom?”
She looked at him. “After I was... told, I found the paperwork to his first accounts here. It was... was a lot of money, Jan. How we used to struggle... that was so much money.”
“You took over it?” asked Gray.
“I couldn’t risk withdrawing any.” The fear in her eyes said just that. “So I kept it secret, thinking a good few years out of mind and sight would give me the safety I needed. So I didn’t touch it. I waited. Then...” She shrugged. “When I thought it was safe, the money was gone.”
Jan couldn’t hold her gaze, but then neither could she hold his.
“You knew it was me?”
“Such a clever lad with numbers, Jan.” A tear fell as she touched his leg. “But the insurance company was the biggest giveaway. Neil... he wasn’t worth that much. They wouldn’t pay out that much compensation to a guilty man. He died where he should have done.”
“But you knew?”
“Yeah, I knew.” She gave a smile. “You managed to take care of us, and after missing meals and fighting rats sometimes for scraps, you deserved to look after yourself too. Jan...” She rested her head in the curve of his throat. “I did a lousy job of standing up to him when it mattered, so you deserved that money more than me.”
“Bollocks.” He shifted his shoulder, getting Kate to look at him. “I heard you fight him often enough. You needed that money more than anyone.”
She shook her head and stroked the back of her hand against his cheek. “I should have walked long before you heard any of that, baby.”
“How far would you have got when you didn’t have the money for a bus ticket?”
Jack frowned between them, perhaps not realising just how tough Jan’s life had been. But then Jack missed a lot of things, and it was there in Jack’s eyes too as he looked at Gray.
“You say “friends” mentioned this account,” said Gray, watching Kate. “Yet there’s a lot of fear surrounding the mention of them.”
Kate’s gaze flittered between Gray and Jack, never really resting until Gray touched her shoulder.
“Something wrong,” he asked gently.
“Just...” She was back with Jack. “I remember your eyes.”
“Huh?” said Jack, his coffee mug finding the table.
“You’ve met Jack before?” Gray leaned forward slightly, curious now.
“I...” She seemed to falter. “Not sure. You’re a lot older now.”
“Now?” Jack pushed away from the table slightly, looking a little panicked, and Kate shuddered.
“I didn’t know about the money back then,” she said, confused as she looked at Gray, then Jack. “I told them that; they wouldn’t listen. Remember?”
“You’re... you’ve lost me completely here.” Jack’s hands gripped the table, arms looking stiff.
“When I saw you just, I thought Jan had got the name wrong. A Martin was mentioned.”
Jack got to his feet about the same time Jan did. “No offence, but I’ve never met you, lady.”
“Someone... someone else, then,” she said gently, trying to calm. But Jan was already there, a hand on Jack’s shoulder, whispering something that tried to calm too.
“Jack, sit down,” said Gray. He did and Jan stayed by his side. Gray focused on Kate. “You met someone like Jack, and he called himself Martin. When?”
“Jan couldn’t have been fifteen... sixteen. I’d gone out shopping that night to get a cake mix for Lacey’s birthday.” She glanced up at Jan. “Honey, it was that time you were down with that bad case of tonsillitis. Lacey and Steph were around friends, and you... I’d left you in bed.”
“I remember. My throat had swollen badly, even my gums were swollen.”
Kate nodded. “I didn’t make it to the shop.” Her face paled. “Someone came at me from behind in the street, and the next thing I remembered, I was on the floor of a dusty office.”
Jan shifted a look in Gray’s direction.
“A dusty office?”
Kate nodded. “I was a cleaner back then, and, well, it’s something you notice, where the dust is the thickest, and this office, the floor was concrete, painted black, and an empty wastepaper basket was next to a table that had... I don’t know, rat droppings stuck to a leg by a web. And men, there were two men in there.” Knuckles were white around the mug. “I was dragged up by the table and they said if I didn’t tell them where the money was, they’d make a call. They said somebody was at home with Jan.” Tears came freely. “I could stand losing my husband, but not one of my kids.”
“I don’t remember anyone being with me,” said Jan, and his mother nodded.
“I couldn’t take that chance.”
“Only you didn’t know about any money at that point?” said Gray.
“I tried to tell them that, pleading that I didn’t know, but they weren’t interested.”
“And you met someone who looked like Jack, who must have been, what?”
“Seventeen, maybe eighteen,” said Kate, although Gray had worked it out, he just needed to see if she could place the difference in ages. “He looked about as startled as me to start with, then....”
“Then?”
“He seemed curious, wired.”
Jack’s eyes widened a touch. “And he did what?”
Kate only shrugged. “I don’t know. The two men didn’t like being interrupted and I was knocked to the floor. Next thing I knew, I was back on my sofa with Jan upstairs in bed. A note warned me to shut up and not go to the police, but the car that stayed outside of my home for two weeks ensured it.”
“They kept tabs on you,” said Gray.
“Yes. But like I said, I didn’t know about any money back then, or why your dad would have any, Jan.”
“About the office.” Gray kept an eye on Jack. “Do you remember anything else about it? Perhaps any scents? Anything else on the table?”
Kate’s gaze distanced. “Smelled like oil. Engine oil and cold steel,” she said. “Like a garage. And there was a notepad on the table.”
“Garage...”
Gray was more interested in the notepad. “The date, can you remember what it was?”
She seemed to search for it. “Summer. June 15th—”
“Fuh—” Jack’s hands went to his head as the year was then mentioned, and he found his feet again. Gray followed his every move.
“Mase. The night with Mase. Other people were there?” Jack was ready to bolt, or to grab onto Ja
n, or just crawl up into a corner and cry no more, and Gray got to his feet.
“What do you mean... there?” Kate pulled a face. “Were you there?” She was up on her feet now.
“No,” said Jan. “Jack wasn’t.” And the hardness to voice and eyes said just that. “You’d have known if it was Jack there.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Sorry?”
“Martin. Did he fuck with you?” said Jack. He looked mortified.
“No... it was one of the men who hit me. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“The notepad.” Gray got a look off Jack. “Was it open or closed?”
Kate wasn’t with it now. “Closed, I think. I can’t remember.”
Gray buried the rush of sickness as realisation started to creep in. “Okay. Thank you. We need to go now.”
Jan nodded, but Jack bypassed them all and was already reaching for the door.
“Thank you,” said Gray to Kate, and he gave her an easy smile despite the hollow pit that hit his stomach. “Jan and Jack—”
Kate looked distressed as Jan passed by, giving her a kiss on the head. “I know, I know. Bloody look after my son, though, please?”
Gray left her there and headed out after them. He’d be getting a text soon, and he now knew why.
Chapter 30
Checkmate
The drive home was painfully quiet. Jack kept to the back seat, insisting that Jan go up front by Gray. It was painful to see the mistrust of his own actions back in his eyes. Making sure Jan stayed out of harm’s way but also next to Gray. Jan stayed just as quiet, but for the first time in months, his glances back at Jack wanted to cross the distance, not hide from it.
They made it back to the manor for dusk, just as Ed was serving an evening meal. Jack carried his silence up to the bedroom and this time Jan went with him. Through either natural default or an ability to push Jan to a safe distance, Jack took his hand and made sure he went with him, with a look back at Gray that almost had Gray going up with them.
But he had to wait for a text.
He found his way to his study, just giving a shake of head at Ed’s offer of food. He wasn’t hungry; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten properly. So when he took a seat in his study, it pissed him off to no end when a knock came at the door.
“Ed said you needed this, bright eyes.” Boots sounding heavy on the polished wood, Trace came over with a plate of Ed’s Sunday roast and a shot of whiskey.
Gray held his hand up for quiet, just sitting there, waiting. He knew they would have been followed. He also knew what would come next as he put Logan’s phone on the study desk.
A text came through a moment later. It came with a number to text back, and one word that said:
Name.
Gray thumbed it in. His reply just as simple:
Martin.
Trace frowned at him as he pushed the meal to one side and looked at the message.
Another text came through a moment later.
Well done, Mr Raoul. Now we can begin.
“You gonna tell me what this is about?” whispered Trace, easing onto the edge of the desk.
Gray sniffed, ignoring how it wasn’t the food that turned his insides. “Martin interrupted something over twelve years ago when he was fucking around with Mase. He saw a full list of codenames, MI6 codenames, and I think he fucked up whatever plans Kes had for them.”
“Kes was selling on a list of MI6 ops?”
“Or buying,” said Gray. “Two ops on that list were killed with a signature mark that goes for accidental death. The same mark that took out Rob Kershaw too. Jan’s ex-lover. Which means if we only have a partial list, the rest of those MI6 ops, or some of them at least, are on Kes’s hit list, and Martin saw them.”
Trace raised his brow, now leaning forward slightly. “So Kes is a professional hit man, with a liking for taking out MI6 operatives?”
Another message came through, and Gray left it on the desk as he opened it.
Wake Martin up, Mr Raoul.
Gray thumbed his reply.
No.
Nothing else was needed. No anger, no retaliation, just... no. After he was finished, Gray picked up his landline. “Ray.”
“Sir?” came the reply when it was picked up.
“Get Greg Harrison from work. Bring him to the manor. Tell him he’ll be stopping here for a few days. If he asks for clothes, you ask for a list, drop him off, then go buy new. You take his phone and you arrange cover for his work via the MC. No one here, and I mean no one is to go near Greg’s home or work. Not even surveillance.”
Now Trace looked worried.
“Get a call through to Steve, Jack’s manager,” added Gray as calmly as possible. “Tell him to take Carol and the kids away for a few days; make sure he gets the funds to cover expenses. I’ll arrange cover from the MC for Jack’s business and the Strachan side that Steve oversees. Tell him he’s not to come back into London for another forty-eight hours. You make that as clear as possible and make damn sure no one follows you here when you pick Greg up. He’s to see me before he gets to talk to Jack or Jan. Clear?”
“Understood.”
“Disable your stop-start function on your Mercedes, just in case.” He doubted at all whether it was that, but it took it out of play as an option. “In fact, take Jan’s classic Jag. For now I want you driving nothing that has an onboard computer, with IBS as standard.”
“I have an old 110 Land Rover, should be a good talking point for Greg.”
Gray managed a small smile. Ray was ex-MI5, where small details would be picked up and noted for later use. “Thank you.” He cut the call and looked up at Trace.
“So this fuck’s been doing this to get to Martin?” Something washed through Trace’s gaze. The same cognitive process Gray had been over a dozen times since talking to Kate. “For how long, Gray?”
Gray snorted coldly. The rape, the psychological reconditioning... long before that. Rob had been killed only when Jack and Jan had got together, sparking Jack’s spiral out of control. Elena had gone in thinking she was calming Jack down, curing him of disorders, but Kes, he knew there was no antidote. In fact, like Cutter, he’d done nothing but call it out, pushing and tearing at Jack for one thing.
Martin. For what he’d seen twelve years ago? Or what he’d taken?
And Martin... he’d attracted one hell of a dangerous player.
“He changed tactics, though,” said Trace. “Kes. He’s mostly been pushing for accidental cause with Martin. What’s got him out in the limelight?”
“639,” said Gray, and he didn’t realise he’d taken the whiskey until he took a sip. “He knows 639 took a list of codenames. And from the knowledge Kes has, they’ve met him.”
“So he’s suddenly got his foot on the gas in case they talk before he has chance to get to Martin and the rest of the codes?” Trace ran his hand over the mobile. “Who’s 639, Gray? Who’s your source?”
“You wouldn’t like the answer.” And he left it at that.
“But not giving Kes what he wants, you keep those remaining MI6 ops safe. What about Jack, though. You can’t protect everyone that Jack knows. Not forever, not—”
“I’m not fucking waking Martin.”
Trace jolted, and Gray calmed in the same instant. It’s what all this was about: break Jack, get to Martin, but get the dog handler to control him long enough to get the lost codes.
“Okay,” said Trace. “So we close ranks, we—”
Ringing from the phone got Gray’s attention and he reached over and picked it up. “Raoul.”
“I put a call through to Jack’s manager Steve,” said Ray on the other end. “He said he will send his wife and family away for a few days, but he can’t go anywhere.”
“I’m not fucking about over business now. Tell him—”
“It’s not about business. He said he’s just had a message off Sam.”
Gray paused.
“It was
meant to be passed along to you. Sending it through now, Mr Raoul.” A beep came through Gray’s mobile, and Gray shifted and pulled his own out of his pocket. It wasn’t a text.
A dirty rag was jammed into his mouth, keeping Sam quiet. Blond hair had kissed the floor at one point, picking up dust and debris. The same side was also tinged red, as though he’d been hit in the face and blood had ran as he’d hit the floor. The dried blood crusting the insides of the nostril gave a blow point, but there was also a cut on the cheek, a half moon shape that spoke of a broken bottle. The dust gathered on his face was tear-streaked, the tracks caught mid-flow to map the chaos in his eyes. He held a newspaper in his hand, showing day, date, and breaking news. But it was the words written on the wall that caught his attention.
You have the night with them, Mr Raoul. Then I come for them again, after I’ve finished with the boy. They’ll lie with his body, with the knowledge you weren’t there for them a second time. Or you can wake Martin for me. Your choice, Mr Raoul. We’ll speak again in the morning.
“Who’s that in the picture?” Trace took the phone from him. “Christ.” Gray didn’t answer until Trace said his name again.
“A kid from Jack’s garage; Sam.”
“He close to Jack?”
“He’s close to Steve, who’s been close to Jack since Jack needed a leg-up into the nearest warehouse job. And Jack would swear he hates Sam, but Sam’s too much of a chaos train for Jack to offer too much protest.”
Trace raised a brow. “So taking him—”
“I can’t touch Jack.”
“Gray.... You’re going to have to knock on his door and—”
“I won’t fucking touch Jack and bury Jack and Jan in the process. I don’t give a fuck about who gets caught in the backlash. We clear?”
Trace turned his head away from the shout, and Gray slammed his chair back and the door took some of his frustration as he thumped his way out and let it slam shut behind him.
Gray made it to the pool room en suite, then lost everything he could stomach. It hurt, the constant tear of his insides took its toll and blood from his stomach lining laced the toilet bowl.
He hadn’t got them both back to lose them again. If he took Jack down, he’d lose Jan too.