by Michele Hauf
She nodded, drawing up the confidence she needed. She could do this. She would do this.
* * * *
Jack had picked up a plain white van at a used car lot across the city. Every chrome part on it was rusted and the muffler was dangling, but the engine was clean and the heater worked. Now he sat parked, the engine idling, in a supermarket parking lot across the street from where he’d been staying with Saskia. The rain had stopped, and no ice had formed on the roads, yet the weatherman on the radio had suggested everyone stay in tonight because that’s when the storm was coming.
A rain storm in January. In Helsinki. Bollocks. But he could drive on ice or snow. Didn’t matter.
He thumbed his cell phone, vacillating on whether or not to call the ECU and demand an explanation for the shite he’d just learned about. The call would only put them on high alert. They couldn’t know that Saskia had revealed her role in this case to him.
So why had she? She wasn’t stupid. Very smart, in fact.
He had to stop going over this, thinking it would give him answers that weren’t there. There was a new snag. But that didn’t change the fact he’d started something here in this icebox and he was going to finish it.
He’d never leave a mission half finished. And despite his mental arguments that he’d served his purpose, if he walked off the crew now, he’d raise too many red flags and Clive might call it all off, thus negating the chance to have him arrested.
So he called the ECU and connected with Kierce Quinn.
“I was just going to call you,” Kierce said. “I’ve got the list from the Helsinki bank of all the safe deposit box holders. There are quite a few names that stand out. Dignitaries, celebrities, foreign advisors and council. Funny how a little bank in the middle of the tundra attracts so many heavy rollers, eh?”
“Just tell me what you’ve got, Quinn.”
“Right. When I take into consideration the previous victim’s political ties, I was able to narrow the list down to five possibilities. Oh, and there was another heist before the Belgian job that Clive did. Same MO. No money taken.”
“And why am I only hearing about that job now?”
“It was on the dossier. Are you okay, Jack? Feeling all right?”
“Of course I am,” he said huffily. He’d read the dossier. Briefly. Those tiny little files on his cell phone screen were a pain to read. “I’m sure I saw that information. Now don’t get off track.”
“Okay.” The least convincing reassurance Jack had heard.
He didn’t want to blow it with Kierce because the guy would go straight to the top and—hell, did it even matter anymore? They knew he was going to run. How incredible was that? Now the challenge was to make sure they couldn’t follow him. And that included Saskia.
“I’ve run the list for the first bank and come up with a name,” Kierce said. “There were actually two people who had safe deposit boxes in the first bank that have died within the last month. One was a little old lady who owned a dozen cats so I marked her off.”
“So you’re saying Clive is making hits on people through their safe deposit boxes,” Jack interrupted. Because if he didn’t lay this out, Quinn would talk up a storm. “Why?”
“He has to have a boss. Which has always been the ECU’s suspicion. Someone pulling the strings. Can you find out if he has a hit list?”
“Yeah, that’s an idea. We’re pulling the heist tonight.”
“We need you to stay in contact the whole time, Jack. We’ve got to have eyes on Clive Hendrix.”
“Why don’t you—” Jack rubbed a hand over his mouth. He’d almost asked why they didn’t get Saskia to do that. But then, she’d have eyes on him as well as Clive. Busy woman. Very busy. “Yeah, all right. I’ll stay in touch. Text me the names you’ve got.”
“I just did. Now that we know Clive Hendrix is murdering people the stakes just sky-rocketed. You’ve got to nail him. And the only way to do that is to have proof he’s placing poison in a safe deposit box. As soon as you’ve got that confirmation, we’ll send in the local authorities. I’ll have the Helsinki police and Interpol on standby.”
“Brilliant.” But he could only think “shite.” With Interpol in the area that would make his escape more difficult. But not impossible. “Talk to you later, Quinn.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and clicked off and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
Turning around to inspect the empty back of the van, he knew they’d have room to fit in the drill and three people back there. And no haul from the bank’s vaults?
“Genius,” he muttered of the method used to make a hit. But also a logistical nightmare for him. He’d have to find a way to catch Clive in the act tonight. With the poison in hand. Which wasn’t going to be real poison. And he wasn’t sure if he could trust Saskia to have his back.
He tugged out the burner phone and reread the last text. Less than two days until Jonny was dead.
It would take him a good day of travel, via boat and train, to get back to London.
Jack shook his head. “Looks like I’m going to have to conquer my fear of flying.”
Chapter 14
If he’d thought driving on icy roads would be a breeze, Jack now realized how mistaken he had been. This drive was going to take nerves of steel. It had rained all day and now the streets gleamed like glass. It had taken him five minutes to drive the distance of two blocks. Few cars were out and about, and if they were, they slid and slipped as he was. And slamming on the brakes was out of the question.
After driving into an alleyway devoid of CCTV cameras, he got out and pulled out the black shoe polish he’d purchased before buying the car. He swiped it over the back and front plates, making it impossible to read. Later, he’d drive out to the junkyard behind an old warehouse that once manufactured fish nets and crush the thing. It would be his final act in this game.
That is, if he got the goods on Clive tonight. And he’d need Saskia’s help to do that. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d stormed out this morning. His anger had cooled and he was now in work mode. He hoped Saskia was in the same place.
Waiting at a red light, he texted Saskia and asked if she needed a lift.
She immediately texted back the middle finger emoji.
“All right then. She’s good.” He tucked away the phone but didn’t shift into drive, even when the light turned green. Because his conscience screamed for him to pay attention to what she hadn’t said. “No, she’s not good. We’re not good. I have to talk to her before the job.”
He checked his watch. He had to pick up Clive and Niles in an hour.
Saskia’s flat was five minutes away.
And, thanks to the ice, twenty minutes later he made it to her place. Scrambling up the stairs, he hoped he hadn’t missed her. As he opened the door, he ran right into a young mustachioed man with dark hair tucked under his knit cap.
Jack grabbed him by the head and kissed him long and deep.
Saskia initially struggled, slamming a palm against his chest, but too quickly she grabbed the front of his coat to keep him at her mouth. Her kisses were always true and needy and everything she needed him to know at that moment. She was angry with him. She wanted him.
When she shoved him against the doorframe, he grabbed her hand and held it. She exhaled and gave it a squeeze.
“I’m sorry I stormed out,” he said. “You laid a lot on me.”
“I had to tell you.”
“You didn’t have to. You probably would have been better off had you not.”
“I needed you to get details to the ECU about the poison. And I wanted you to give a good long think to your plans for later.”
“Which I did. Why couldn’t you contact them about the poison?”
“I’ve been deep undercover. Haven’t wanted to risk the call because I suspect Clive has bee
n monitoring my phone.”
“Smart. I talked to Kierce Quinn.”
“Paris office?”
“Yes. He checked a list of safe deposit boxes from your Belgian job. A foreign dignitary died from poison four days ago. They traced his steps back to a visit to the bank two days before that.”
“Shit.”
“Same with the heist previously.”
“The one before I stepped in?”
“Yes, another dignitary. Quinn gave me a list of possible targets in this bank.” He patted his pocket. “I need to catch Clive in the act of putting the poison in a box. Did you, uh…”
“I made a fake,” she said, and then winced. “We can’t convict him on the grounds of possessing a fake poison.”
“We only need intent. But for good measure we need his hit list. Or the people he’s working for.”
“I suspected he’s answering to someone higher up, but he’s so closed. I’ve never had a chance to learn much. And you were right. He’s suspicious of me. I’ve been asking too many questions. I hope I haven’t blown my cover.”
“I’ll have your back. Promise.”
“So…uh, does that mean we’re good?”
“We are. Can we work together tonight?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. But are you going to skip out after the heist?”
He shrugged. She knew his thoughts.
“Then we’ll never be completely good,” she said. “Just so you know.”
“I can live with that. What I can’t live with is knowing we might end tonight. After the job. You going your own way and I mine?”
“It all depends on you, Jack.”
“What if I want to continue seeing you?”
She leaned against him and looked up into his eyes. He felt like a high school jock with the cheerleader swooning over him. Something he’d never experienced, because what bloke went to school when he had to run a smuggling business for his father?
“Can we separate work from pleasure?” she asked. “Because I don’t think this can work any other way. And I’m not sure I can do that. Work is my life. And according to you, this work is no longer your life.”
He dropped her hand. Everything she said was true. How could he walk away from this life and expect that he’d get to take along a prize such as her? It was an either-or choice. And he’d already made his decision.
Sometimes he just wanted to kick family in the arse and walk away. But not today.
“Family comes first. Always,” he said. Then he grabbed the doorknob. “We should go. Clive and Niles are waiting.”
“I guess so.” She grabbed a coat and a backpack that must have her tools and safe cracking equipment in it, then walked out ahead of him.
While they descended the stairs, Jack’s phone rang. It was Kierce Quinn.
“I’ve got something interesting for you.”
“Speak.”
“There’s a particular name on the bank list who stands out. Maksim Tamm, a delegate of the Estonian Parliament. He’s been a leader in enforcing sanctions against arms trading. The gun runners hate him. And, surprisingly, to me at least, he’s a known heroin addict.”
“Why is that a surprise to you?” Jack had to ask.
“Well, he’s such a powerhouse in standing up against arms deals, I just, you know…” Quinn sighed. “I know. They are all corrupt. So. Investigations into Tamm’s habit have never been able to pin down his dealer in order to hold that against him. Nor, I suspect, have they tried hard. It would serve as leverage, though, to get the real intel from him.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“If Clive is supposedly inserting a poison that resembles white crystalline substance into someone’s box, I’d make a guess it would go unnoticed in the box of that person who may happen to keep other white powder in there.”
“A possibility. But who keeps heroin in a safe deposit box?”
Saskia paused and turned to look up at him. Jack lowered his voice, but he wanted her to hear.
“A national dignitary who can’t risk it being found in his home?” Kierce suggested.
“Maksim Tamm. I got it. Thanks, Kierce, I gotta go.”
“What was that about?” she asked as he paralleled her down the last flight of stairs. “From headquarters?”
“The name I was given is Maksim Tamm. He has a box in the bank. And he’s into heroin. Quinn seems to think he might keep his stash there. A good way to slip in a little poison?”
“Yes, this poison I was supposed to give to Clive could resemble the drug. My fake? It’s possible. I’m a little nervous about the fake, Jack. What if Clive knows it’s not the real thing?”
“Is it that easy to determine? I mean, he’s not going to open it and sniff it. Won’t that kill him?”
“Inhalation will kill. And he will know that.”
“Then you’re good. You going to be positioned at the vault all night?”
“I am.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to find a way to keep an eye on Clive.”
* * * *
The van slid to a park behind the accountant’s office next to the bank. Saskia released her tight hold on the door handle. They didn’t have to worry much about people being out tonight. Only fools would risk their lives driving around on glare ice.
On the other hand, Niles had pointed out two police vehicles as they’d slowly made their way here. Jack intended to drop them off, then park elsewhere and return for the drilling.
Clive was the first out through the back door and he landed on the icy alleyway with finesse and without a wobble. The man had slipped on rubber shoe treads that were edged with steel teeth. A necessity when living in northern climes that Saskia had used on occasion herself. She wished she had on a pair now as she slid out of the seat and onto the ice rink. Using the side of the van to steady her steps, she moved slowly. The men hefted out the drill and Clive acted as an anchor to keep them from falling on their asses.
“You’re on, Sass!” Clive called.
Yes, she was supposed to pick the lock on the accounting office’s back door. But she was only halfway there. Taking a chance, on her next step she lunged forward and slid the last six feet up to the door. Just like an Olympic skater. A perfect ten!
“Good show, Saskia,” Niles commented as he struggled to maintain hold on his end of the wood slat shipping container.
She looked to Jack who did not make eye contact with her. He hadn’t answered her question about them managing work and pleasure. He’d opted to toss out the word family. She suspected that whatever was pulling him away from the ECU involved his family. And while that was all well and good, she got an inkling that he was struggling with the decision. Maybe? No matter. Any hope of them continuing their affair seemed dismal. There was nothing romantic going on between the two of them. Just some hot sex and—no, she wasn’t going there. It had been sex. Nothing emotional. She wasn’t going to pine for him like some school girl. She was here to do a job. Two jobs, actually. And she didn’t intend to fail either one.
Slipping a torque key into the simple five-pin lock, she then inserted a diamond pick and raked the pins. Once. Twice, she raked the thin pick over the pins. Could she get so lucky as to not have to shiver and concentrate on counting the pins as they dropped? Three times, and…click and twist. Nice.
Opening the door, she stepped inside and crept forward through the dark back office lined with metal file cabinets and out into the front area where customers were served. The store was dark and no one was inside.
Giving the all’s clear whistle, she ran back and closed the door behind the men, but Jack caught it before she could close it all the way.
“I have to move the vehicle,” he said. “Out of my way.”
Saluting him, she stepped aside and let him through.
“Trouble in paradise?” Clive asked from right beside her.
She hadn’t felt him get so close and Saskia jumped at his sudden presence. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a certain icy tension between the two of you. Do I need to know what’s going on?”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sass.”
She was over this man telling her what to do. Just a few more hours and she could walk away from him. With hope, for good. “As you’ve suspected, we had a thing, now that thing is over. We’re good though. Won’t be a problem tonight. I promise.”
“I hope not. Do you have what I requested of you?”
“Of course.”
He held out his hand and looked over his shoulder. Niles was occupied setting up the drill at the base of the wall. An initial anchor hole had to be drilled through the concrete with a smaller drill bit, which he would start before Jack returned.
Making a show of pulling on her thin thermal gloves, Saskia then held up a plastic baggie that contained a small glass vial between her and Clive. “Be careful with it. Wear gloves. I wouldn’t even take it out of the baggie without a respirator on. This stuff is deadly when inhaled.”
“Thanks, Sass.” He made a grab for the baggie, but she snatched it away. “Right. Gloves.” He reached into a pocket and pulled on a latex glove; then she gave him the plastic bag. He tucked it in an inner coat pocket. “You never let me down.”
He turned and went to stand over and behind Niles, observing as he worked.
Saskia rubbed a hand up and down her arm. She did not wear a thick coat, only a thermal long-sleeved turtleneck, along with black leggings and her hair was up and under the wig of a short, brown boy’s cut. The knit face mask she wore as a cap at the moment. The mustache glue had dried and she didn’t notice the smell anymore. The contouring makeup gave her a five o’clock shadow and mottled skin that looked like teenage flare-ups.
Glancing to the back door, she briefly wondered if this was it. Maybe Jack would use this moment to take off and never return. And she’d lose him, and then whose ass would be in trouble? Should she have gone along with him?