“Yes!”
“In Prague, you and DS Littlewood met Inspector Cerny and you reviewed photographs taken from Peter Sikorski’s computer.”
“Yes.”
“You identified forty-eight photographs with people who you had seen before.”
“I didn’t count them, but it sounds about right.”
“Did you know the names of any of the people in the photographs except for Peter, Sarah and their parents?”
“Yes. I recognized my ex-boyfriend, Joe Rossini.”
Mather said, “And where is your ex-boyfriend?”
Kate sighed involuntarily. “I don’t know. You told me he was at Broadmoor Hospital. It wasn’t him. Do you know where he is?”
Mather ignored the question. “Who was the Chinese woman in the photograph with your ex-boyfriend and Peter Sikorski?”
People who lie, look away, don’t they? Kate gave the inspector a cold look and said, “I don’t know.”
Mather held her stare, neither blinking. “Was the photograph the only one with a title?”
“I don’t know that. The Czech inspector said as much.”
“What does Shot WO mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You seem defensive, Miss Blakemore.”
“I am! I feel like this is an interrogation, like you don’t believe me.”
“Well let’s see,” Littlewood said.
Mather leaned in. “You recognized none of Sarah Wishart’s friends at the funeral service or the Sikorski house?”
“No.”
“You didn’t see Sarah at the service or the house?”
“No. I was sick.”
“So I heard. I’m sorry. What did you do after you got back to the hotel?”
“I had a bath and went to bed early.”
“You went to bed early, and yet you look like someone who hasn’t slept.”
“I didn’t sleep well. This whole thing has been very stressful.”
“Where did you go during the night?”
“What do you mean?”
Mather looked down at Kate’s hands on the table. She glanced too and saw a damp patch under each of them.
He said, “Are you denying that you went out during the night?”
She hesitated, her mind whirring. Sarah had made her promise not to say anything. Kate knew she could not betray that trust. “No. I needed air. I went for a walk.” Damn! She realized she’d glanced away as she’d spoken.
“The night porter saw you come back, but not leave. You left via the fire escape didn’t you?”
“Yes. I don’t know why. Impulse. The stairs were closer to my room. Perhaps I thought I would just walk down the stairs. It was fresher there, but I went all the way and walked outside.”
Kate looked at the clock. She needed to get going. Amazingly, she’d been there for two hours. She guessed long accusatory silences had filled the time and made it fly.
“Somewhere else you need to dash off to?” Littlewood asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You keep glancing at the clock. That’s three times in a matter of minutes.”
Kate thought quickly, fixed her eyes on Mather’s forehead. “Yeah, well I took time off work to go to Prague and to come here now. I need to get back to work, do the late shift.”
They seemed to buy it. Mather ended the interview and switched off the recorder.
He stood and walked around the desk. He waved in the direction of the door. “Thank you for coming in. It might not seem it but I think we are making progress.”
Kate nodded uncertainly.
Mather led her out with Littlewood trailing her. Kate had a funny image of the sergeant stooped over her invisible footprints with a magnifying glass. Maybe it was her relief at getting away from the interrogation.
“You’re smiling,” Mather said as he extended his hand to say goodbye.
“Am I? Just something that amused me I guess,” Kate said.
As they shook, he placed his left hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “Think about helping Sarah,” he said—the nice inspector was back. “Please think more about SHOTWO. Maybe it’s not Shot WO. Maybe it’s something else entirely.”
Kate swallowed, broke the eye contact.
He continued: “Maybe it’s a code. Maybe it’s SH OT WO. Maybe it’s the SH that are initials.” He let go of her shoulder with a final pat. “Please think about it.”
“I will,” she said.
Kate turned and fled. She had to hurry. She had an appointment with Stephanie Harper.
THIRTY-NINE
The walk to the Oracle shopping centre was shorter than Kate had anticipated and she arrived early. A long queue at the coffee shop was a prelude to a crowded seating area. Teenagers from school, mums with kids, and office workers chilling out after a hard day perhaps. She scanned the tables. No one looked like Stephanie. No one looked like they might be waiting for her. Kate realized that Stephanie Harper might not be the woman in the photograph, although it seemed unlikely.
After selecting a cup of herbal tea and a blueberry muffin, Kate hovered over a table by the window and finally got a seat.
She sipped and nibbled. From her vantage point she could see over an entrance to the centre as well as to the coffee shop. She got into a kind of rhythm, glancing outside and then towards the queue. First, she checked for someone looking like the woman in the photograph and then anyone who also appeared to be looking for someone.
Fifteen minutes to go, her mobile rang. Lisa.
“I have news,” Lisa began, excitedly. “My ex from the States says you can search army bases to find where someone is posted. I’ve just forwarded you his email.”
As Lisa ended the call, Kate’s phone buzzed with an incoming email. She opened it. After some personal stuff she skimmed over, there was a preliminary chat about the problems of finding someone in the British Army. The Ministry of Defence were highly protective of the location of British service personnel. The US Department of Defense was remarkably open about such information—despite 9/11.
He went on to recommend that she go to a US site called army.com/resources/find_buddies.html. This enabled the public to search directly for anyone and find where they were posted. If that failed then he recommended posting on the message boards of any bases where he might be or might have been located.
Kate clicked on the link. It took a long time to load onto her screen and didn’t provide full HTML display. It appeared to be more of an army recruitment site and didn’t seem to be official. She decided to view it properly on a computer when she got back to her sister’s house.
She checked her watch. Less than five minutes to go. She resumed her routine of checking the coffee shop and entrance. A woman stood in the mall just outside the coffee shop. This lady wasn’t Oriental; she also appeared to be early twenties, which was probably too young. She gave the impression of agitation, looking up and down the mall. Kate tried to make eye contact but it wasn’t met. Kate resumed her scanning. The woman at the entrance met a man; they argued and walked away.
Kate glanced at her watch. Three minutes past.
At 6:10pm, a woman walked confidently past the queue at the entrance. She didn’t look like the woman in the photograph but appeared about the right age and was wearing a business suit. Kate sat up. The woman was coming directly towards her.
Kate started to stand but as she moved she realized the woman was speaking to someone behind her. Kate turned to see a table with two ladies ready to greet their friend.
Kate finished her tea. A waitress began to wipe the table next to her just as her phone rang.
“Hi, Mumsie.”
Kate’s mother began to speak. It seemed that Darcy had told her about the situation. She was concerned and wanted to know what was going on.
The waitress came to Kate’s table and bent over, cloth in hand.
“I’m sorry?” Kate said. Was the waitress rudely hurrying her to clear the table? “I’ve not
finished here, thank you.”
“We are very busy,” the girl said awkwardly but straightened. As she started to turn away she dropped a napkin and shrugged.
Kate stared at the napkin. Something had been written on it, hurriedly scrawled in black pen. “Sorry, Mumsie. I’ll have to call you back,” she said, and put the phone away. Her mother immediately called back and Kate hit the red End Call button.
She opened the napkin so she could read the writing.
The first word she recognized was Stephanie.
Amir followed the blonde girl from the police station. He had bugged her house, her car and her iPhone. He knew she had met the detective inspector and was now on her way to meet the woman from the mobile phone company. She also seemed to text quite a bit and those records would be useful to monitor as well.
She looked amused as she left the police station and glanced in his direction but there was no sign of recognition. His disguise was good: nondescript, casual, unattractive, but she was too distracted anyway. She walked briskly without a backwards glance.
At the coffee shop he watched her sit down by the window overlooking the canal and entrance. He backed off. No need to watch Ms Blakemore here. Instead, he casually strolled to and fro in front of the shops on the first floor. Here he could watch the people ascend the escalator from the entrance and approach from the shopping arcade. He knew what Stephanie Harper looked like. Her company’s website had social pictures as well as those of senior employees. Medium height and possibly of Chinese origin with bright brown eyes and full lips.
At five minutes to 6pm, Ms Harper appeared in the entrance to the main department store in the centre. Amir moved into a shop called Early Learning and watched. She checked out the café but hung back. There was another woman at the front agitatedly waiting for someone. Perhaps that made the Harper woman nervous.
After a moment, Stephanie Harper took her phone from a purse and looked at the screen, shook her head. After putting the phone away she seemed uncertain, and Amir thought she would leave. Then she seemed to make up her mind. She walked towards the coffee shop, but instead of going in she picked something up from the nearest table. Stopping beyond the sight of Ms Blakemore, the Oriental woman leaned against a wall and appeared to be writing. Moments later she moved to the rear of the queue, ensuring she was masked by the people in front. An assistant was clearing tables and when she neared the queue Stephanie spoke to her and placed something in her hand. A napkin. A nod towards Ms Blakemore at the window was a clear indication. Amir understood and he made a swift decision. Follow Stephanie Harper.
Stephanie slunk away from the queue and hurried along the concourse, away from the coffee shop. This was not a direct route but Kate Blakemore might see her if she went another way. When she could, Stephanie cut through a store and took an escalator to the ground level called Riverside. There she crossed the canal and hurried into an NCP car park. She didn’t look back.
She found her car and headed out of town to a suburb of Reading. The houses were in a Georgian terrace and hers was the last one. She had chosen it for the cherry tree outside on the verge. She reckoned it counted as a leafy suburb, although in autumn the tree looked cold and forlorn. Parking was never easy, but she found a residents’ spot and returned to the front of her house.
As she walked up the path, a man’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Ms Harper?”
She turned to see a reasonably handsome man approach. He reached the end of her path and raised a hand as though in greeting. He smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. At that moment Stephanie Harper knew her worst nightmare had arrived.
FORTY
The man on the phone said, “Speak.”
“It is as we thought,” Amir said. “The man is in protective custody. I found the operative in Prague. I have now found the operative in the UK.”
“Is he a problem?”
“She,” Amir corrected. “No, but not before confirming that the man is now in the United States.”
Hamasalih said, “How will you track him there?”
“I am still using the English girl—the girlfriend.”
“Will she find him?”
“I think so. If not…” Amir didn’t need to complete the sentence. He said, “But I may need to help her. There was information in the document he left for her.”
“Do it.”
“One thing.”
“Yes?”
“I may need help getting into the US. Should I hand over?”
“No, His Highness has confidence in you. It won’t be a problem. When do you think you will travel?”
Amir said, “Very soon.”
Kate read the scribbled note.
Not allowed to meet you. Too dangerous. If things change I’ll be in touch
Too dangerous! Kate knew just how dangerous it was. Peter was dead. Sarah was in hiding, Andrew’s house had been broken into—her apartment had probably been broken into. Hell, Kate herself was effectively in hiding!
What did Stephanie mean she wasn’t allowed to meet? Who wouldn’t let her?
Kate dialled Stephanie’s number. It went straight to voicemail. She felt anger bubble up in her throat. “Stephanie, it’s Kate Blakemore. Look, what the hell do you mean? You can’t do this!” Her voice sounded more abrupt and desperate than she intended. Kate tried to calm herself before she said, “If you don’t come straight back, then I’m going to go to your house. I know where you live.” She ended the call. She didn’t know where Stephanie lived but how hard could it be to find out?
She left her things at the table and queued for another tea.
When she sat down again, she had a plan. She searched for sites that provided electoral roll and phone details. She searched for Stephanie Harper in Reading and got hits on S Harper but not Stephanie. Some also provided births, deaths and marriages but required membership. She decided to go back to these if her fallback plan didn’t work.
She called Ann.
“Hello, dear.” Ann’s tone was cheerful. “I haven’t seen you for a few days. Your friend has been staying and looking after Tolkien. I’ve just seen him leave with Tolkien in a carrier. Is he all right?”
“My friend Andrew?”
“Tolkien.”
“Oh, Tolkien’s fine. I’ve just asked Andrew to take him somewhere safe.” Kate had resisted saying anything to Ann but now she thought she had better warn her. “That man you saw outside—the satellite company man—he was in my apartment! I think he also broke into Andrew’s.”
“Oh my goodness. Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just won’t be coming home for a while. I really need to find that friend of Joe’s in the US Army. Do you have any news?
“Not yet, dear. I will try again on Monday if I don’t hear over the weekend.”
“That’s very good of you.” Kate hesitated, a little awkward about asking her next question. “Could I have your daughter’s—Brie’s—phone number?”
Ann provided it without question. She said, “Look after yourself, dear.”
Kate thanked her and ended the call. She immediately called Brie.
“Oh, hi, Brie, it’s Kate. I live above your mum’s flat in Windsor.”
“Sure. I remember. We met. Is something wrong with Mom?”
“No! No! You’re mum’s fine. I feel really terrible asking you this but I need an urgent favour.”
After a pause, Brie said, “Oh?”
“I remember you told me about your job at the bank. You do credit searches to approve mortgages.”
“Yes. Well I don’t do the approvals myself but I do have a lot to do with the vetting.” She sounded cautious.
“I need to find someone’s address. I know it’s probably not allowed but I really need help. I need to find the address for Stephanie Harper in Reading. I think she’s mid-thirties, if that helps.”
“It might but I can’t do it. You need permission to search someone’s credit file.”
“Have you tried 192.com?”
“Yes and others. I don’t think she’s registered on the electoral register or has a listed telephone.”
“I can’t help you. I could lose my job.”
Kate must have sounded desperate. She said, “I might be in danger. I think she is too.”
“What?” Brie said, incredulous. “You need to go to the police.”
“The police can’t help. I know this sounds crazy but someone broke into a friend’s house and has been in mine. Another friend has been murdered.”
“It does sound a little crazy, Kate.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just hoped you might be able to help.”
“I can’t I’m afraid.”
Kate ended the call and went back to the website, registered and paid the subscription. Just as she had anticipated, there was no one who matched Stephanie’s full name. There were five female S. Harpers with about the right birth dates and Kate noted them down.
She checked her watch. She’d been in the coffee shop for forty-five minutes. The queue was down to a couple of people and the tables had thinned. No sign of Stephanie. Kate tried her number again but didn’t leave a message.
She decided to give it another hour. While she waited she went back to the US Army website. Again it took a long time to load and was difficult to interpret. She found a search box and entered “Danny Guice” and hit Enter. After a long few minutes, a message told her that the name wasn’t found. She tried “Daniel Guice” and then “Dan Guice”. Same result.
Her phone rang.
“Where the hell are you?” Darcy. And very cross.
Oh God! She’d promised to be back by eight. It was already two minutes past. “Sorry. I totally forgot you needed me to babysit.” She was up and heading for the exit.
“Are you on your way?”
“Yes! Yes. The traffic shouldn’t be bad. I won’t be long.”
I Dare You: A gripping thriller that will keep you guessing (A Kate Blakemore Crime Thriller Book 1) Page 15