Helena laughed. “There was food! There’s always food at an orgy, darling.’
“Big spread,’ I muttered. I kept up the act that I was peeved.
“If it makes you feel any better, you probably missed an awkward moment.’
“What do you mean?’
She poured us a couple of Scotches and fell onto the sofa. “Tonight was a kind of orgy-bachelor party for ol’ Westlake. Remember him? He’s getting married.’
“Oh.’
I did remember who she was talking about—an older, divorced businessman, handsome with silvering hair, a touching shyness to him at times. I was never involved with him, but there was an interesting sexual tension between us when I worked the strip poker case. Helena’s gossip left me feeling hollow. Yes, it was good news he had found someone to make him happy.
I, on the other hand, was recovering from a breakup and getting hit on the head with office supplies.
“Nice woman?’ I asked. “The bride-to-be?’
Helena flipped her eyebrows. “Nice girl.’
“Oh. Black?’
“Ah, you remember his tastes. You know, she even looks a bit like you. You’re the one that got away.’
“Don’t tell me things like that.’ I laughed. “Not when you’ve got a full liquor cabinet.’
Early the next morning, I was very pleased with myself, thinking I was close to wrapping up the case as I plunged my fork into Helena’s yummy omelette and sipped her gourmet coffee. We sat on stools at her kitchen island as the news mumbled away on the TV on the counter, and I confided to her how I was going to miss my work colleagues at Silky Pictures.
“You don’t have to end this line of work, darling,’ said Helena, and I sensed mischief. “Wouldn’t it be great if my escorts had promotional videos?’
“Oh, here we go,’ I laughed.
“A commercial for the Web site? Please!’
“Whoa,’ I said.
Because a photo of Luis Antunes flashed on the screen.
As I told Helena to turn it up, we heard: “… was thrown off a balcony of an upmarket Docklands hotel that caters to visiting business executives. Police say Antunes was a Portuguese national who ran a production studio that specializes in pornographic films. They’re releasing few details, citing it could compromise their investigation, but say they believe he was murdered by a suspected Muslim terrorist, who killed—’
I stared at the TV. “Oh my God.’
“What, what?’ asked Helena. She wanted to know what was going on, but I was already busy with another shock coming.
“—Antunes as a statement on morality. The suspect’s name has not been released, but early this morning officers of the Anti-Terrorist Branch raided this flat in Earl’s Court and are seeking its occupants.’
Helena and I stared at the police in helmets bursting through the front door of my building, their dark figures in silhouette through the lace curtains of my ground-floor home.
Police in my home. Looking for me.
“Jesus Christ!’ said Helena. “This is insane. They’re calling you a Muslim terrorist!’
And still it got worse. Because the first thing I did was run to my handbag and scoop out my cell phone, dialing the number Desmond Hodd had given me on a card. No more voice mail, not this time. I got a single tone over the line. The number had been disconnected.
4
Right, I knew Hodd was for real. He had taken me the direct way into MI6 headquarters. He had to know what was going on, but he had left me out in the cold. I was in big trouble. I had maybe fifteen minutes to pack up and get the hell out of Helena’s house.
She still insisted at the door that I must be mad, that if I just turned myself in, the authorities would see how ridiculous this all was. I knew I certainly couldn’t hide at her place in Richmond. Anyone who knew me knew of my friendship with her. I briefed Helena as quickly as I could about Hodd, about Kim’s spy girlfriend, Felicity, and about my bizarre assignment to investigate Luis Antunes. To Helena’s credit, she simply whispered, “My God,’ and then: “You’ll need money.’
I stared at her like an idiot.
Her voice was amazingly patient. In my panic, I really was being a simpleton. “If you want to hide out for a while, you’ll need cash. They’re busting into your home—they’re sure to cut off your cards.’
That meant ditch the rented car, too. They’d be looking for it.
“How much do you have on you now?’
“Thirty quid.’
Helena went to her desk, opened a small box, and pulled out two hundred pounds. “I’ll drive you into the high street here. We’ll stop at a cash machine and get some more.’
“No, no,’ I said. “I won’t drag you into this—’
“Don’t be stupid; you’re my friend, Teresa—’
“If things get bad, and I need more, I’ll contact you,’ I said. “What I really need is for you to pass on information when you get it. The police are bound to come round to question you. Maybe Fitz, too, maybe—oh, I don’t know who else. I’ll call you.’
“Teresa. Are you sure this is the best way?’
I had only a few seconds to think about it.
I said: “If this were a ‘normal’ murder—whatever that is—I’d call Carl at Scotland Yard and go quietly, yes. But Helena, MI6 paid me a huge amount of money to investigate Luis Antunes, and now he’s dead. And they’re not taking my calls! I don’t know if they’re behind the frame job but there’s more going on here than what’s on the news, and I can’t find out what from a jail cell. If I even survive that long in one. And who will believe me when I tell them who my client was or what they wanted?’
“I do,’ said Helena. “But… I know how strange your life gets.’
I had to smile at that one. I hugged her, checked outside the window, and then hurried out the door. Of course, it started to rain thirty seconds after I left the house. Small miracle they hadn’t come knocking at Helena’s already, and my heart was in my mouth as I walked the Richmond streets, fearing a police car might pull over at any second to arrest me.
With a bit of luck, I’d reach the Tube, and since my travel card was still good, I could go almost anywhere. And then…? I didn’t know what to do then or where to go. But as I hurried down to the platform, instinctively boarding the Upminster train, I remembered that while the phone line Hodd gave me no longer worked, I might have another way to learn what was going on with MI6 and why I had suddenly been cut adrift.
♦
I was disgustingly cheerful as the door opened to the flat near Elephant and Castle. “Duplicity! How are you?’
The tall brunette stared at me, mouth open like it was on a hinge, and I sort of pushed my way into the flat. Kim appeared in the kitchen doorway, her blond hair up, wearing a heavy cable-knit sweater and black sweatpants.
“Are you insane?’ she demanded. “I have nothing to say to you! It’s all over the news!’
“I didn’t come to see you,’ I told her.
Kim poked her tiny finger at me, tears in her eyes. “Oh, right! Of course, you blame her! I’m calling the police!’
“It’s your house, go ahead.’
“Kim, don’t,’ said Felicity, freezing her on the spot. She didn’t take her eyes off me, and now Kim was well aware that something was going on, but she didn’t know what.
“What do you mean, don’t?’ Kim was back to me now: “That’s why you were always out of town, right? Always taking off! I knew there was a reason I couldn’t love you. I knew there must be a reason why you couldn’t call yourself a les—’
I said to Felicity in a quiet voice: “We don’t have time for this. The whole lipstick thespian thing.’ That is, drama queen.
“Kim, please,’ said Felicity, taking her by the shoulders and marching her to the bedroom. “Will you just give us a minute?’
“She’s dangerous! She killed that man—’
“Kim.’
Like a child hearing the familiar tone
that’s utterly final, my ex looked at Felicity, completely dumbfounded. Looked at me, looked at her new partner yet again, and then without a word retreated into her bedroom, shutting the door.
“That will only work for two minutes,’ said Felicity.
“Plenty of time,’ I replied, “for you to tell me why your boss isn’t at his number anymore.’
She didn’t say anything. Biting her lip.
She doesn’t know, I thought.
I showed her the business card Hodd had given me with the special number.
“Yes, this is one of them,’ said Felicity. “New numbers come out every three months and are rotated for any call by an operative to reach his or her Control, but… but this should still be good. The rotation isn’t due yet.’
“Then he disconnected it on purpose,’ I answered. “Give me a different number for him.’
Her face was panicked now. “I can’t! You ought to know I can’t possibly do that! For Christ’s sake, it’s a complete breach of our protocols for—’
“I—don’t—care.’
She backed away a couple of steps, folding her arms, her thin mouth set in a determined line.
“I don’t know a thing about your operation, Teresa. I am not part of it. If you were sent to kill this Antunes bloke on Hodd’s orders, I was never briefed, and maybe he expected you to—’
“I didn’t kill Antunes!’ I yelled.
The door to the bedroom opened a crack. Felicity stomped over and irritably pulled it shut again. “I want to thank you so much for showing up here and destroying my cover!’
“Not at all. I never thanked you for taking Kim off my hands.’
She sighed and sat down on an ottoman. “I suppose I had that coming. Don’t you worry—I’ll think of something to tell her.’
“No doubt.’
“Teresa, you listen to me. I know nothing about what Hodd assigned you to do. I watch certain students, I’m involved sometimes in recruiting, and Hodd put me on a temporary assignment to observe you. After he brought you in, I went back to my old duties.’
“And stayed with Kim.’
“And stayed with Kim, yes,’ she snapped. “I still don’t know your business.’
“You could contact your people,’ I said.
Her answer was immediate and brutal. “I won’t do that— don’t ask me again. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’ve done, and frankly I don’t care. I won’t risk my cover, and there’s the safety of others involved.’
“Her,’ I said softly, looking at the closed door for a moment. “You’re trying to protect her.’
She didn’t respond to that one.
“Hope she loves you back,’ I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “She’s difficult.’
“I don’t find her so hard,’ she answered with a faint smile.
It had never occurred to me that some truth might lie between my suspicions and what Hodd had claimed. I still believed he had sent Felicity Eden to seduce Kim, but the feeling there expressed…Protective, indulgent, quick to Kim’s defense. She loved her in a way I never did or could. You’re damn right it hurt.
Sirens—distant but approaching. Felicity and I looked at each other, and I read the genuine surprise in her eyes. She muttered shit under her breath and motioned for me to come with her. Through the kitchen and back garden, I had a chance to slip away. This much she would do for me.
That was the last time I saw Kim. Her walking into the bedroom and staying quiet while I spoke to her new lover, secretly dialing the police to come get me. That hurt, too. I don’t know why it cut me deeper than when I had caught her cheating, but it did—her believing that I was capable of such things as terrorism and murder.
And the most twisted part was how Felicity rationalized her own survival. Turning me in would complicate things for her. Helping me would also complicate things for her. So she would do nothing. She would just watch. I bet she made a great spy. And in these small, disturbing failures of conviction, I got a clue as to how her bosses suffered larger ones.
I was running again—hoping they hadn’t anticipated that I would try to escape on the Tube. Lucky, Teresa. Plain stupid luck, and how long could it hold? I hadn’t even checked to see what train I was on. At Stockwell, I changed lines. I couldn’t keep this up forever.
I got out at Oxford Circus and rang Helena to see if she had learned anything. I could hear the strain in her voice as she told me: “They sent Inspector Norton to my doorstep.’
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that news. Carl Norton was a friend—I even introduced him to his wife. He might give me the benefit of the doubt, but if he thought I was guilty, London wasn’t big enough to hide in. I was being labeled a terrorist, which meant a large part of the investigation was probably out of his hands.
“Now they’re saying more happened to Luis Antunes than being tossed off a balcony. They say he was beaten to death in the hotel room first—a real frenzy attack, vicious.’
The boys from Brazil. Perhaps Georgie boy had more friends—ones at this hotel to murder Luis. Meanwhile, they went to the studio to take care of Duncan. Or maybe Georgie and his mates had killed Luis before visiting the studio.
“Where was his wife?’ I asked Helena. “Luis had a wife. Helê.’
“Yes, you mentioned—and I did ask, darling. Dinner with friends, solid alibi. And the good inspector says she’s too small a woman to have done the amount of damage, let alone thrown him off a balcony. When he didn’t come home, she called the police.’ Helena sighed. “Teresa, it’s bad. They say they found a Qur’an in your flat and blueprints for how to make bombs—’
“Ugh! I don’t own a Qur’an! Right, me with a Qur’an! Sure!’
“I know, I know, darling. And they’re making a big deal out of the fact that you’re a third-degree black belt. They’ve put some hard questions to a friend of yours, a man named Tanaka?’
“Jiro.’ I groaned. “Jiro Tanaka.’
Jiro was a friend at the dojo where I trained. He was also my go-to guy in terms of IT and everything high-tech. He had helped me before on cases. I imagined he’d also tell Carl and his officers, his Japanese features scowling (but his Liverpool accent a bit disconcerting) to kindly get stuffed. He’d say for the record that people who train in karate are looking for a way to avoid getting into confrontations, that learning how to punch and kick doesn’t make you violent, it paradoxically makes you less aggressive. Jiro would tell them I’m the last person who would deliberately try to kill someone using what I had learned in my training.
And how many Islamic fundamentalist agents go out and murder a target with martial arts techniques? Trouble was, the world had gotten more bizarre lately, and London was known as a place for over-the-top right-out-of-themovies assassinations. During the time all this was happening to me, there were new developments out of the blue over the murder of former spy Alexander Litvinenko with a radioactive isotope. My alleged methods, I suppose, were considered far less exotic. And planting bomb blueprints was obviously to have it both ways—I killed men barehanded but also wanted to blow people up, too.
“Someone’s given careful thought to setting you up,’ remarked Helena. “What are you going to do?’
“Catch them.’
It was a weak joke meant to break the tension, but in the pause before Helena responded, I knew it was what I had to do.
“You do have certain disadvantages, darling—like being hunted by the police.’ Perhaps she thought I needed the banter for my spirits. “There’s something else that’s peculiar.’
“What?’
“I don’t mean to be morbid, but they haven’t released your name or plastered your photo everywhere. They keep showing your front door getting busted in on the news, but that’s all.’
“Believe me, that’s enough.’
“What do you mean?’
I didn’t want to go into the business of Kim making her phone call and sirens wailing as I raced out of her flat
.
“Never mind,’ I said. “But you’re right, that is peculiar. I don’t see why they shouldn’t release my name, but maybe it buys me a bit of time.’
“Precious little. Please be careful, Teresa.’
“I’ll be in touch. Wish me luck.’
As I rang off, I never expected to be tailed. Apprehended, maybe. Tailed, no.
Like I said before, knowing it’s happening to you becomes more instinct than something you can prove. (It’s not like you can say: See that bloke? Yes, the one with the sandwich board for the Chinese food buffet special? Well, he’s ten blocks away now from his restaurant.)
I had noticed the same green raincoat on a woman passing me at New Bond Street, and now here she was crossing a block ahead of me as I approached Regent Street. The man in the reflection of a picture window wore a different jacket, and he wore spectacles, but he made the mistake of coming too close when I turned. He had used a rolled-up Daily Mail as a prop earlier, and I saw smudges of newsprint still on his right hand. Gotcha.
Okay, I was being tailed, but I wasn’t being intercepted. If it was the police that found me, all they had to do was to coordinate their surveillance through the vast network of CCTV cameras covering London, and they could have officers catch me at every possible corner I turned.
Why, yes, Teresa, you might think, but maybe they want you to lead them to the lair of your nefarious terrorist cell. Clever you. It was possible. It was just as possible they could drag me to an interrogation room and be less than polite when they asked.
Not the boys from Brazil. They hadn’t wanted me when they had their chance in Canary Wharf. And they hadn’t shown me they could be subtle.
So. Someone else was on my tail. What was baffling was that my only candidate was Hodd’s operation—but it was Hodd who had had me checked out thoroughly before he made me sign his contract, and MI6 knew I wasn’t a murderer and terrorist. They wouldn’t have hired me in the first place if my name had a question mark next to it.
Yet Hodd’s contact line was now dead, and I couldn’t ask him what the hell was going on. Was it possible he and his people actually believed I had killed Luis? If so, why not just grab me? They’d had no problem finding me before. It made no sense, because Hodd could have taken my call or had Felicity Eden say by all means, Teresa, I’ll escort you back to our offices.
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