“Thanks so much for seeing me.” Alice quickly moved to reassure her: giving a friendly grin and whipping out her notebook and pen. They followed her through to the sitting room, which was strewn with magazines, dirty cups, and random items of clothing.
“I’m sorry about the mess.” Illana blushed. “I didn’t have any time…”
“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Alice insisted, as Flora plucked a pair of tights from the couch and took a seat. “You should see our place—you can barely see the floor sometimes.” Flora raised an eyebrow at the obvious untruth, but the white lie worked: Illana perched on the edge of a chair, seeming to relax.
“So, you want to know about the identity theft?” she asked, blinking at Alice. “It was a while ago now, and I told the police everything I could.”
“Let me guess,” Alice said sympathetically. “They couldn’t help at all.”
“They tried,” Illana offered. “And the banks too, but it took months to unravel everything, and get them to replace the money.”
“But you got it all back, in the end?” Alice sent a meaningful look at Flora.
“Yes, eventually.” Illana nodded. “I was lucky, they didn’t open any credit cards or anything in my name, but Patrick—he lived downstairs,” she explained. “He had about seventy grand of debt by the end of it. They were calling him all the time, really hassling him.”
“And you never had any idea who did it?” Alice prompted.
She shook her head. “They said it could be criminal gangs, you know, professionals, but if you say it was this woman Ella,” she sighed. “I really don’t know. CCTV showed a woman withdrawing the money at ATMs, but it was always dark, or she had a scarf around her hair or something. Sorry.” She gave a weak smile. “I wish I could be more help.”
“You’re doing great!” Flora piped up.
“This is going to sound strange, perhaps,” Alice began. “But did you make any new friends around that time—or even before then, any time in the previous six months or so? See, that’s how it happened to me,” she explained. “Ella—this woman—she met me in a class and struck up conversation. We became friends, that’s how she was able to access my papers and things.
Illana blinked. “No…No, I don’t think so. I mean, I keep pretty much to myself,” she blushed. “So, I would have noticed if there was anyone new hanging around. The police went through this all,” she added. “When we realized it was more than one of us, in the building? They thought it might be a friend, or partner, or something, so they interviewed everyone. But…” She trailed off.
“She would have been about my height,” Alice tried again. “Brown hair, perhaps, although she could have dyed it to anything. Average features, but…” Now it was her turn to trail off. Her descriptions were so vague as to be practically useless.
“Sorry,” Illana apologized again. “I really didn’t meet anyone new or see anyone suspicious. That was the thing, we couldn’t explain it.”
“That’s OK.” Alice tried to smile. “You’ve been really helpful.” She and Flora got up. “Can I leave you my number, in case you think of anything?”
“Sure.” Illana took the scribbled details and showed them to the door. “Good luck, I guess.”
Alice waited until they were on the street again before sighing. “Well, that was useful…”
“She seemed nice,” Flora noted, glancing back up at the flat.
“Nice, yes—observant, no.” Alice frowned. Clearly, Ella had infiltrated her life in some way but had been so discreet, Illana didn’t even notice. So much for her training-period theory. She unlocked the car, wondering how Ella had blended into the background so completely—nondescript clothing, perhaps, and an average haircut. It had always been Ella’s charm and vivacity that made an impact, so Alice had little doubt she could become invisible should the situation demand.
“So, who’s next?” Flora slid into the passenger seat.
Alice consulted her notes. “Randeep Karimi. He moved just after it happened; he’s an assistant manager at CompuWorld, working a shift today. Let’s hope he’s more of a help.”
***
But he wasn’t. In fact, out of the three people who had been thoroughly defrauded by Ella, not one could recall so much as meeting her.
“Nope.” The final victim, Patrick O’Neal, shifted restlessly on the spot. A masculine man with greasy red hair, Alice had managed to catch him at his Saturday football league, taking a halftime break from what was clearly a raucous, violent match on the far corner of a muddy park. “Never seen her.”
“You’re sure?” Alice asked again, a note of desperation creeping into her tone. This was her final clue. Illana had been useless, and Randeep, apologetic but blank—Patrick was their final hope. “You didn’t meet anyone in a bar, or club, around that time?”
His face stretched into a sleazy grin. “Darlin’, I meet girls all the time. Doesn’t mean I remember them.”
Alice sighed. “This one, you would have maybe taken home? Or—”
“Look, I told the cops everything I could.” He shrugged. “Anyway, there’s no chance it was just some girl ripping me off. The fuckers took everything. It was a gang, right. Professionals.”
“Yes, but—”
“Look, I ain’t got time for this.” Patrick started backing away. “Good luck with it, yeah?” He turned and jogged back to where his teammates were gulping sports drinks on the sidelines.
Alice began to walk back across the field, dejected. It had been a long shot, she knew, but still, she’d expected something to be revealed, a small gem of insight or information into Ella’s makings.
“Well?” Flora was perched on a park bench in the sun. She was wearing a pretty, gauzy white dress, with her hair in two thin plaits. “What’s the news?”
“No news.” Alice sat down beside her with a sigh. “He says he hasn’t seen her, but he would hardly even talk to me…”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “Busy, with the game. Also, I doubt it’s his finest moment—being defrauded like that.” Alice looked at the small figures, dashing around on the other side of the field. “He’s been telling himself it’s the work of a vast criminal network,” she told Flora. “I think to take the edge off. Nobody wants to admit it’s as easy as one woman and an old bank statement—it undermines their manly prowess, you know?”
Flora laughed. “Why don’t I try talking to him?”
Alice paused, smiling over at her. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I don’t think it’ll help.”
“No, really, let me try,” Flora argued. “I can help, you know, with his manly prowess.”
Alice raised an eyebrow, but Flora made a knowing face. “Come on, it’s not like I’m exactly threatening.” She held up a braid in each hand as evidence.
Alice laughed. “Well…OK. Why not?” She looked back across the field. It wasn’t as if she had any better options, and if Flora could actually prompt him to reveal something… “But these will have to go, I think.” She reached over and began to undo Flora’s hair. “They do make you look, um, rather young.”
“I know.” She shrugged, apparently unconcerned, and started combing out the other plait. “Sometimes it’s just easier, looking fifteen. People don’t really expect anything from you.”
Before Alice could think more about that curious statement, Flora leaped up. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck. And remember to ask him about anyone he invited home,” Alice added. “And if they—”
“Relax!” Flora laughed. She fluffed out her hair and quickly applied a slick of Vaseline to her lips. “I’ve been watching you do this all day.”
Alice watched her trot enthusiastically toward the football game. The match was under way again, with shouts and the frequent blast of the referee’s whistle drifting on the breeze, but clearly, the lure of Flora’s angelic visage was temptation enough for Patrick. All it took was a comment to one of the teammates, and within moments, he had been fetched
from the field. She certainly had her skills, but as Alice waited, she wondered about that cryptic comment. Flora had been so upset by being left out of the Italy operation. She’d accused Alice of underestimating her, but on the other hand, there she was, happy to act young and helpless because it was just easier that way—to have people doting on her and doing everything in her place.
Soon, Flora was bounding back across the field. “Well?” Alice rose to greet her.
“What a wanker!” Flora exclaimed, screwing her face up in disdain. “He kept giving me these skeezy looks, like I was in my underwear or something. And when he asked me out for a drink, and I said I was married, he was all, ‘It’s not a death sentence.’”
“Sorry,” Alice apologized. “I should have warned you…”
“Oh no, it was fine.” Flora beamed. “Anyway, he seemed totally clueless, like you said, but there was one possibility. I talked Ella up like she was a dangerous spy or something—so he wouldn’t feel stupid—and he said there was one night in December he took a girl back but woke up the next morning with no memory at all, like he’d blacked out. It could just be he drank too much,” she added. “And she bolted in the morning when she realized what she’d gone home with, but still…”
“It could have been Ella,” Alice finished, thoughtful. “She might have used a sleeping pill or something, to make sure she wouldn’t actually have to…You know.”
“Ugh.” Flora shuddered. “He really is a dick.”
They took a moment to reflect on Patrick’s shining personality.
“Well, thank you.” Alice gave her a hug. “I don’t know if it’ll be any use, but at least I know we tried.”
“No problem! It was kind of fun,” Flora confided, as they began to stroll toward the car. “Like I was undercover, or something. Was that what you were doing out in Italy?” she asked, eagerly. “Digging for clues and infiltrating places?”
“Sort of,” Alice admitted. “Only, I didn’t really plan it. One minute, I was reading the postcard she sent from Rome, and the next, I booked the ticket and was on my way to the airport. I’ve never done anything like it before,” she added. “But it was wonderful.”
“It sounds so exciting.” Flora gave a wistful sigh. “Just picking up and taking off like that…”
Alice laughed. “You’re the one who can disappear at the drop of a hat!” Out of anyone, Flora surely had the most flexible life: no mortgage, or responsibilities, and a career she could pack away in her suitcase whenever she felt. “Stefan travels all the time, and nobody says you have to stay at home waiting for him,” she pointed out. “You’re young! Why not go off adventuring, even just for a weekend or two? Or apply for that art residency in Florence and really absorb a place for a while.”
Flora fell silent. “I couldn’t,” she answered eventually, throwing Alice a brief smile. “That program isn’t my thing, I told you that. And, well, could you imagine me traveling on my own? It would be a disaster. I’d get lost before I even left baggage reclaim.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “So, who’s our next interview?” Flora changed the subject. “Another victim?”
Alice sighed. “No, we’ve talked to them all. That’s it, I’m afraid.”
“Really?” Flora’s face fell. “I thought we’d find something.”
“Me too.” Alice almost felt foolish, thinking of the glee with which she’d greeted Nathan’s latest information. She’d been so certain it would lead to Ella, or at least another facet of her trail. But, after everything, Ella was too good. Kate Jackson was just another dead end.
They reached the car, but Alice idled in the shadow of the trees for a moment, not too keen to face the traffic of the weekend motorway so soon. Flora hopped up on the hood of the car and swung her legs.
“You know, I’m kind of glad she got him in trouble with the credit card people. Patrick, I mean. He really was disgusting.”
Alice grinned. “Now who’s not playing by the rules…?”
Flora giggled. “I know! But he deserves it, more than the other two, anyway.”
“Maybe that’s why she did it,” Alice said, almost to herself. She knew that it was ridiculous of her to attribute Ella with intentions and conscience, but she couldn’t help wondering if that’s how she too had viewed her victims. It couldn’t be a coincidence that out of the three, the only one who had seen a mound of problems with false credit cards and loans had been the most unsavory. Illana and Randeep may have seen their bank accounts temporarily emptied, but theirs was a minor upset compared with Patrick’s ongoing woe.
“That would be cool,” Flora mused, thinking on it. “Like, a Robin Hood. Only, instead of stealing from the rich, she takes it from banks, and loan companies, and complete assholes.”
There was a pause, and then Alice asked, “So what am I?”
Flora frowned. “Huh. OK, maybe not.”
Alice shrugged, reaching for the keys. The football players were beginning to scatter, some headed in their direction. “Come on, we better get back before Patrick tries to win you over with his charm and chivalry.”
“Oh, God, yes.” Flora hopped down, and all but threw herself back in the car. “It’s a shame though, there weren’t any clues or anything. I guess it was a wasted trip, after all.”
***
Alice thought much the same, but as she began to review her notes over the next few days, she wasn’t quite so sure. On the surface, she had nothing but the meager facts her trip to Italy and Nathan’s inquiries had managed to glean: that Ella had used a passport in the name of Kate Jackson and that she’d lived discreetly under that name for several months before coming to London. Her victims in Bath had no idea she was targeting them, and unlike with Alice, she hadn’t struck up any friendships or false relationships in order to gain access to their personal information. Ella had taken classes under Illana’s name, bought clothes and groceries, perhaps even volunteered the way she had done at Safe Haven, but none of it had been done with the same veneer of friendship she’d used with Alice.
But that, in itself, was what puzzled Alice the most. If Ella didn’t need to get close in order to steal the other victim’s information, then why had she done so with Alice? All those months of their friendship, she’d been risking discovery—any one of her lies could have unraveled, at any time. Had it been a challenge, to see if she could get away with it, or was it something more?
Alice couldn’t help thinking of that quiet street in Bath and the temporary life Ella must have led there. Following her victims’ every move, yes, but also making sure to stay invisible and utterly unseen. It would have been lonely, Alice decided. All that time, never confiding anything real to anyone, for fear that it would bring her down—she could only imagine how isolated Ella had felt. No wonder she wanted to reach out, perhaps even building her life in London, so that this time, she could enjoy more of a regular existence, with friendship and routine. Perhaps, this time, Ella had genuinely meant it.
Alice lingered on the thought. It was tempting to believe that not only had their friendship contained a few shards of truth but that it might have genuinely meant something to Ella as well. For weeks, she’d been building a new picture of this woman in her mind. This new element seemed to fit: the loneliness, the need for human contact. There was something vulnerable there. Relatable.
But despite this new, potentially softer side to Ella’s actions, Alice couldn’t quite manage to forget the truth. Ella had left, in the end—with her money, and her trust, and her good reputation. Alice just hoped that when she found her, Ella would have a good enough reason why.
Chapter Twenty-five
With all her present leads on Ella now exhausted, Alice was able to turn her attentions back to the agency. Unlike her previous tactics of hard work, honesty, and reasoning, her new unorthodox route to becoming an agent was reaping rich rewards. Thanks to several phone calls, detailed strategy emails, and even a couple of hasty, clandestine lunch-hour meetings, Alice had secured Kieran and Julia a
s her very first clients. She’d been honest with them about her relative inexperience when it came to agenting, but (as she explained it) that just provided her with ample time to devote to their every need and the enthusiasm to make an impact. Having been all but abandoned by Vivienne, they were willing to take that risk—and signed fresh contracts to that effect, adding Alice as their named representative at Grayson Wells. Her first victories were complete; now, the only real challenge was how, exactly, to break the news to Vivienne.
***
“So, I was thinking we meet around six tonight.” Julian called after lunch, when the rain was streaking her windows with a dull drizzle, and it felt like summer was simply a passing dream. “We could grab some food before the film.”
Alice paused. “I told you, I can’t make it. I have that date with Nathan tonight, remember?”
“Oh.” Julian didn’t sound wholly enthused. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen.”
“Yes,” Alice replied lightly. “He called to set it up. We’re having dinner at this little place in Soho.”
“Well…Have fun then, I suppose. And check around before you order anything,” Julian added. “Half those places should be shut down by health and safety people. You can always tell from the state of the toilets.”
“Um, thanks. You have fun too.” Alice hung up, her mood too good to be dampened. And it wasn’t just her gleaming new status as an agent that made her swivel on her chair with excitement.
She’d been planning all week for the date. Not in an overwrought way, she was quick to tell herself, more the idle musings that always preceded these sorts of things—the outfit planning, the selection of shoes, the well-timed hair washing the night before. Alice didn’t want to admit she’d put more thought into this particular dinner than any other in a long while, but the dress laid neatly on her bed at home (with the perfect necklace, purse, and jacket set out nearby) spoke otherwise. She may not be the sort to spin out romantic fantasies the way Flora did, but Alice had an instinct that this might finally be something real.
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