by W. Soliman
Bloody hell! I cautiously shook my head, deciding that I must be concussed. Of course he knew. Paul would have told him. Except, why would Paul have given it to me in the first place if he knew his boss wanted it? Still, information was power and right now it was the only ace I held.
“Sit up, Charlie.”
It wasn’t the sort of request it would be sensible to decline. I slowly pulled myself to my feet, using the wall behind me to help me stand. Even so, it wasn’t an elegant manoeuvre. I was still wearing my jacket, which was just as well since it had deflected Glover’s boot, just a little. Enough to avoid serious damage anyway, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Why spoil his day? I’d had a quick feel of my pockets whilst I’d been on the floor. I was pretty sure my wallet was still where it belonged, and most of my other possessions too. One of the few things missing was my phone. Big surprise.
Garnet pointed to the treatment table and I sat on its edge. It was either that or fall down because my legs didn’t seem too keen to take my weight.
“So,” Garnet said mildly. “Are you ready to tell me what you were really doing snooping about my property?”
Hell, no. “You asked me to work for you. Effectively to spy on one of my mates. I didn’t buy your reasons for that and wanted to find out what was really going on.” I would have shrugged but couldn’t raise sufficient energy. “I don’t like being played.”
He shook his head. “You can take the man out of the police but…”
“What can I say?” I spread my hands. “I’m suspicious by nature.”
“And there was I thinking that we’d started to trust each other.”
“Trust is a two-way street, Peter. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me why you really want me to work for you, we ain’t gonna make comfortable bedfellows.”
He hadn’t yet raised the subject of the notebook. Perhaps he didn’t know I had it after all. Time to drop a few hints. I took a moment to choose my words carefully, knowing that they might well keep me alive.
“Tell me, is your operation anything to do with D.C.?” I asked, taking at random some initials I’d seen in the notebook that I thought pertained to one of Garnet’s offshore accounts.
He tried to disguise his reaction but I watched carefully and saw a gleam of satisfaction lighten his eyes. “Ah, so you’ve got it. I thought as much.”
“Sorry?”
“You’ve got something I need.”
“And what would that be?” Like I didn’t know.
“Something that belonged to my solicitor.”
I cautiously shook my head, unwilling to set the claw hammer off again by doing so too decisively. “I’m still not with you.”
“Oh, I think you are. And there was I, willing to play nice.” He let out a martyred sigh. “That’s what comes of having a conscience.”
I quirked a brow. It hurt. Everything hurt. “And you’d know that because…”
This time Glover did land another blow but I was ready for it and fended it off with my forearm. “Nice try, big boy,” I said, feeling my lip crack open again when I shot him a taunting smile.
Glover growled but did as he was told when Garnet indicated the opposite wall. He leaned against it, massive arms folded over his chest, glowering at me like he couldn’t wait to be let loose. I had a nasty feeling that his wait would be a short one.
“You obviously employ tame dogs, Peter,” I said, deciding to rattle his cage a little. Unless I came up with some amazing delaying tactics I wasn’t going to get out of this with all my limbs intact, anyway. To say nothing of my head. “Unfortunately I don’t fall into that category. I have this innate sense of curiosity, you see, and—”
“Where is it?” Garnet thumped his fist against the wall. Good. I was obviously getting to him.
“Where’s what?”
He sighed. “All right, we’ll play it your way. The notebook you took from my solicitor’s office.”
“I’m still not with you.”
“I’m very busy this evening.” He consulted his watch. He’d done so several times during our little chat. He seemed on edge but there was no reason I could think of for him to be anxious. I was the one in deep shit. I wondered if he was expecting someone. If so, that person obviously mattered to him and that interested me. Garnet wasn’t the subservient type. “I don’t have time for this,” he said.
“Then don’t let me delay you.” I pushed myself off the treatment table. “I’ll get out of your hair and be on my way.”
“You like to play the funny man, don’t you, Charlie, but I’m not laughing.”
“Well.” I shot him an apologetic look. “Can’t please `em all.”
“This is your last chance. I’m not going to ask nicely again.”
“I can honestly say that I’ve never taken anything from your solicitor’s office, other than the benefit of his advice.”
“What were you doing at his building on the day he was killed, if you weren’t killing him?”
“And why would I kill him, other than over his extortionate hourly rate?”
“Answer the question. We don’t have all night.”
“Actually, I wasn’t there to see Miller. We’d concluded our business when I called on him a few days before that.” I paused for effect. “I was there to see Paul.”
“Paul?”
“Yes, you remember him. He’s one of the lapdogs on your payroll.”
“But you don’t get on with him.”
I managed a cautious shrug. “No, but he’s still my stepbrother. We had family business to discuss. He wasn’t home and that’s why I was in and out of the building so quickly.”
“All right, let’s assume I believe you. Who do you think killed Miller?” His casually posed question took me aback. He was floundering in the dark, had even fewer theories about the crime than I did. With all his contacts, that surprised me. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”
“Well, actually, Peter, don’t take offence but since we’re enjoying a frank exchange of views, I rather thought it might be you.”
“Me!” He threw back his head and laughed. “Why would I want to kill Miller?”
“You’ve got me there.”
“He was useful and it’s damned inconvenient not having him around.”
“It’s impossible to get good help nowadays.”
“So, just as a matter of interest, why did you go and see Miller on the day you did?”
He probably knew anyway but I’m a contrary bastard at the best of times and decided to tell him my version of the truth. I didn’t want to mention my cover story and involve Spelling’s widow.
“I wanted to know why one of your shell companies was paying Mike Kendall’s wife’s medical bills,” I said offhandedly. “He said he couldn’t help me because he didn’t know what I was talking about.” I paused, trying to look casually disinterested. “Obviously he was being economical with the truth, but he was in the legal profession, so what else could I have expected?”
“What?” Garnet’s eyebrows shot skywards in a genuine show of surprise. “Why did you want to know that?”
“Because I don’t think Kendall killed his best mate.”
“But you still put him inside for the crime.”
“Not me. It wasn’t my case.”
“Semantics.” He paused, rubbing his chin as though trying to decide if I was being truthful. “So why the interest now?”
“Idle curiosity.”
He knew I was lying but didn’t press me. “And the notebook? How did you come by that?”
“I still don’t know which notebook you’re referring to.”
He expelled a long breath. “It’s such a shame about that pretty face of yours.”
There was a subtle change in the atmosphere a
nd I knew I had to do something fast, before he let Glover off his leash.
“Do you know,” I said, gently—very gently—smacking the heel of my hand against my still-thrumping forehead, “perhaps I do know something about a book. It was given to me for safekeeping.”
“I knew you’d see reason.” Garnet ushered Glover back to his place holding up the wall. I was glad about that, not being too sure how solid the partitioning actually was. “Where is it?”
“Is it the one that mentions a meeting between Miller and D.S. to sign some contract or other?”
“Very possibly.”
“Ah, well, I listened to the advice of the person who mailed it to me and put it somewhere safe. In the event that I don’t check in then obviously its contents will find their way to the police.”
He laughed aloud. “Do you take me for a complete idiot?”
I figured that was probably a rhetorical question and didn’t respond.
“I don’t doubt that you have the book. Who gave it to you, by the way?”
“No idea. Like I said, it arrived in the post.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I know you’re here off your own bat and no one’s going to ride to your rescue. If your ex-colleagues were involved, I’d know about it.”
That ploy about help being at hand always worked in the movies. Next time I saw Steven Spielberg I’d be sure and have it out with him.
“For the last time, where is it?”
I said nothing. Every time I opened my smart mouth I just seemed to make matters worse.
“You realise it makes no difference to me whether I get the book back or not. I just don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”
“I’m told that Miller kept notebooks detailing all his meetings. What about all the others?”
“Oh, don’t worry about those. We already have them. Yours is the last one. We can search your boat and if that doesn’t bring it to light we’ll systematically work our way through the homes of all your loved ones. Now, Glover, what do you think?” That goon was capable of thought? Well, you learned something new every day. “Shall we start with Charlie’s ex-wife and son or should we target the lovely Kara?”
I felt myself tense as the seriousness of my situation struck home. Anger coursed through me, helping to clear my fuzzy head. I thought I held the trump card but this guy had always been one step ahead of me. He knew Miller had wanted out, that much was evident from his entry in the notebook, but he obviously didn’t know that Paul was his significant other. Not that I really cared. It was Emily, Harry, Kara and her kids who occupied my thoughts. I’d give the book up without a second thought but I knew the moment I did I’d be dead. And if they were going to kill me anyway, I might as well make life difficult for them.
“What did happen to Spelling, as a matter of interest?” I asked. I was counting on his overinflated ego to prompt a response. He paused, as though considering whether or not to tell me, but when he opened his mouth again I know that pride would win out over caution.
“He was a bit like you. Stubborn. And worse, he was stealing from me.” He sighed over-dramatically. “I told you before, I can’t abide disloyalty. He had to be warned.”
“Bit of an extreme warning, wasn’t it?”
“He wasn’t supposed to die. How could he repay me when he was dead? But Glover here sometimes gets a little overexcited.” He offered me his shark’s smile. “You’d do well to remember that. When he gets upset even I can’t control him.”
“And you let Mike Kendall go down for the crime?”
“Glover was more important to me. Anyway, I looked after Kendall’s family.”
“Until you stopped paying his wife’s bills.”
“That was an unfortunate oversight.”
I thought of Cleo and all she’d suffered as a result of his unfortunate oversight and felt fit to explode with anger. But it was important not to let it show.
“Accidents happen,” I said.
“Indeed they do. And unless you tell me where that book is, I regret to say that you’ll soon become another statistic.”
“You’d kill an ex-copper?”
“Oh no, not personally.” He nodded toward Glover, who was smiling in anticipation. He cracked the knuckles on each hand, as though I ought to be scared. I was but he didn’t need to know that. “In fact I rather like you, Charlie, I’d be sorry to see you leave us. But business is business. I’m sure you understand.”
“Help me out here, Pete,” I said. “What’s in this for me? You said just now that you can’t abide disloyalty. Now, you think I’ve been disloyal even though I don’t work for you, which leaves me with a bit of a dilemma. Why would I make life easier for you by giving up that book? You don’t actually know that it won’t be released if I kick the bucket.”
“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take. Oh, I know you’re tough. I’ve been impressed by your display of machismo, if that makes you feel any better. I’ve seen bigger men than you peeing their pants when they’ve been in your situation, begging me to give them another chance.” He examined his fingernails intently. “I don’t know about you but I can’t abide seeing grown men beg.”
“I’m with you there. It so lacks dignity.”
“You really should have accepted my offer of employment, you know.”
“I’m not good at taking orders. And I ask too many awkward questions. Can’t help it.” I managed a cautious shrug. “It’s just the way I am.”
“Such a shame.” He watched me with an air of detached amusement but wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared. Unless I missed my guess, he was anxious about something. “Anyway, where was I?”
“Search me.”
“Oh, we already did. We took your phone for safekeeping. And your little torch and a rather vicious-looking Swiss Army knife.” Shit. “So much knife crime about nowadays. One must be a responsible citizen and keep knives off the streets.”
“You ought to run the local Neighbourhood Watch. I’m sure you could give them a few useful tips.”
“You’re a funny man, Charlie.” He stretched and stifled a yawn. “As I was saying, there’s more than one way to crack a nut. No pun intended, of course.” Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Disappointingly, it didn’t sound as though it was the cavalry riding to the rescue. “And, unless I’m greatly mistaken, that alternative method is about to join us.”
The door opened and Andrea Garnet stepped in. She was closely followed by someone else. Another woman.
“Charlie!” Kara cried, running straight over to me. “Are you all right?”
Chapter Seventeen
My heart sank. What the hell had she been thinking, coming here? I glanced at Garnet, no longer attempting to keep the seething anger out of my expression.
“Why?” I asked him, knowing what he’d say but still feeling the need to ask.
“Insurance,” he responded succinctly. “I had a feeling you’d be the strong, macho type, not so easy to intimidate. But now…”
He merely shrugged, further explanation unnecessary. We both knew what he’d do if I continued to hold out against him.
“I didn’t take you for the type to hide behind a woman,” I said scathingly.
“You’re mistaking me for someone who has a conscience.”
“No danger of that.”
“Darling,” Andrea said. “Your other visitors are here. Best not keep them waiting.”
“Right. If you’ll excuse me for a short time.” He stood, motioning to Glover to follow him. “I’ll leave you two to your fond reconciliation and we’ll resume this later.” He paused, hand on the doorknob. “Do talk some sense into him, Kara. It will be so much more pleasant for everyone concerned. And I do mean everyone,” he said, his eyes lingering on her, “if he sees reason.”
“What is it that you want?” she asked.
“Oh, Charlie knows.”
The moment the door closed behind them, Kara threw her arms round my neck. Every bone in my body protested at the light pressure as her torso collided with mine.
“Careful!”
“Oh, sorry. What have they done to you? Where does it hurt?”
Everywhere. “How long have you got?”
“Charlie, this isn’t funny!”
“Do you see me laughing?” I turned my back on the blinking light in the corner of the room and spoke in not much more than a whisper. “What the hell possessed you to come?”
“I got a call.”
“Shush.” I turned her so that she too was facing away from the camera. “They’re recording us and probably listening too. Keep your voice low.”
“I got a call,” she said again, more quietly. “I thought it was you. It came from your number.”
“They took my phone.”
“It was that Andrea woman. She said you were over here using the gym, that you’d pulled a muscle and couldn’t ride your bike home. You were getting medical treatment from their in-house physio and had asked her to phone me to come and get you.”
“And you fell for that?” I threw her a disbelieving look, blaming her for putting herself in danger when I knew it was my fault. “Did you really think I’d be working out at this time of night?”
“Well, how did I know you were over here playing James Bond?” she asked, not unreasonably. “You didn’t bother to enlighten me and you do tend to do odd things at strange times.”
“Yeah, okay, point made.” I stumbled into full view of the camera. “We need to give them what they want, Kara,” I said in a loud voice.
“What!” Then she caught on. “Oh yes, it doesn’t look as though we have much choice. I don’t want them to hurt you any more.” She lowered her voice and turned away from the camera again. “So, what do we really do now?”
Good question. “We try to get out of here. Garnet admitted that Glover killed Spelling, more or less on his orders.” I spoke normally again. “I don’t feel so good,” I said, collapsing against the side of the treatment table.”