The Predator

by Michael Ridpath

  'Isn't that where you and Duncan used to meet?' Pippa asked.

  'That's right.'

  'Well, I hope he won't be there now.'

  'I don't think he will,' said Chris.

  They reached the dark pub in five minutes. Duncan wasn't there. Chris bought himself a pint of bitter, and Pippa a glass of white wine, and they sat down in the same dark corner he and Duncan had occupied the week before.

  'I haven't got long,' Pippa said. 'I'm supposed to be meeting someone later in Covent Garden.'

  'OK,' said Chris. 'I'll be quick. It's about Lenka.'

  Pippa's face clouded over. 'Oh God, not that woman. What's Duncan done now?'

  Chris was taken aback by her reply. It was clear she hadn't heard. It would be unfair to ask her any more questions until he had told her.

  'Lenka's dead. Murdered.'

  Pippa was shocked. 'Oh, my God. It wasn't Duncan was it?' Then she looked confused. 'Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But that's why you're here, isn't it? It must have something to do with Duncan.'

  'I have no reason to think that it has,' said Chris, although in truth Pippa's initial response had alarmed him. 'It happened in Prague. The Czech police think it was a local who did it.'

  'Whew,' said Pippa. 'Duncan must be in a state.'

  'He is.' Chris took a sip of his beer. 'I take it that you knew about Duncan's feelings towards Lenka?'

  Pippa snorted. 'Knew about them? Yes, I knew about them. At first, she just had the status of old girlfriend to be wary of. But then, pretty soon after we were married, I realized she was much more than that.'

  'How did you find out?'

  'From Duncan. He told me. It was mad. He began to talk about her occasionally, and then more and more often. You know how frank Duncan can be. I used to think it was cute. Now I think it's just plain stupid. Once he came back from somewhere drunk and he went on about how Lenka was the only woman he'd ever really loved. To his wife, for God's sake! He wanted to go and see her for lunch or a drink. I told him not to, but I'm sure he must have gone anyway. Not that I think he did anything. I think she had more sense than that.'

  'I don't think they "did anything", either, if that helps,' said Chris.

  'I couldn't give a shit one way or another, now,' said Pippa. 'Probably better if they had, quite frankly.'

  'Was that why you split up?' Chris asked. 'Duncan never said.'

  Pippa sighed. 'That's probably the reason, but I wouldn't want to put all the blame on Duncan. At first, I thought he was great. He's cute, and he seemed to think I was the most wonderful person he'd ever met. He had that adoring puppy-dog look.' She scowled. 'I really fell for it. Then we got married, things changed, and it turned out Lenka was the most wonderful woman he'd ever met.'

  'Difficult,' said Chris.

  'Yeah. But I said it wasn't all his fault. Has Duncan told you about Tony?'

  Chris shook his head.

  'He's a guy at work. I'd been seeing him. Duncan found out about it. He was quite good about it, really. Things just fell apart from there.'

  'Oh.'

  'Yes. The whole marriage was a right cock-up. Thank God there weren't any kids.'

  'Is it Tony you're going to see now?'

  Pippa reddened. 'No,' she said. 'That ended pretty quickly. It turns out I'm not the world expert on relationships, either.'

  Chris had to summon up his courage to ask the next question. 'Do you think Duncan could have killed Lenka?'

  'Um, no. No, I don't.' But Chris noticed the hesitation in her voice.

  'Isn't that what you seemed to think when I mentioned Lenka had been murdered?'

  'Yeah.' Pippa looked down into her glass. 'I'm sorry about that. It was just that I assumed you wanted to see me because Duncan had got himself into some kind of trouble, and when you said she'd been killed, my first thought was that was it. But even in his weirdest moments, Duncan wouldn't do something like that.'

  'A neighbour said that Duncan had been hanging around Lenka's flat.'

  'That doesn't surprise me.'

  'It also seems that Lenka had been avoiding him.'

  'Neither does that. I never got any impression that Lenka felt the same way about Duncan that he did about her. She obviously had more sense.'

  'So, if she rejected him, wouldn't Duncan have been upset?'

  'Yes. He'd have been devastated.' Pippa downed her wine. 'Look. He drove me crazy, but for a while I loved the stupid bugger. He's not a killer. I know that.' She looked at her watch. 'I've got to go. Thanks for the drink. Oh, and I am sorry about Lenka. I know she was a good friend of yours, too.'

  With that, Pippa disappeared, leaving Chris even more confused.

  As Chris opened the door to his flat, he heard the phone ringing. He picked it up. It was his mother.

  'Chris. How are you? Are you all right?'

  How the hell did she know there was something wrong? Chris had avoided talking to her about Lenka. It was something he wanted to sort out by himself; the last thing he wanted to deal with then was his mother's panicking.

  'Chris? Are you there? I've been ever so worried.'

  'Why, Mum?'

  'Because you haven't telephoned me for two weeks, that's why.'

  'But I don't have to call you every week, do I?'

  'You don't have to, no, dear. But you always do.'

  Chris closed his eyes. There was no escaping his family. It was the same with all the Poles in Halifax. Even when you were an adult, you couldn't escape your parents. He knew a close family was supposed to be a good thing, but sometimes, no, most of the time, he just wanted to grow up and get away from it.

  'There is something wrong, isn't there?' said his mother, worried now, rather than nagging.

  'Yes, Mum, there is.' Chris took a deep breath. 'Lenka has been killed.'

  'Oh, no!'

  'I'm afraid so.'

  'What was it? A car crash?'

  'No.' Chris explained what had happened in some detail. To his surprise, he could hear his mother sobbing on the phone. She was a strong woman, his mother. She scarcely ever wept. It caught Chris unawares.

  'Mum, don't cry.'

  'She was a lovely girl,' said his mother. 'She did so much for you.'

  'Yes, she did.'

  'I got the most wonderful letter from her after you and she started your business together. I wrote to her thanking her for helping you out –'

  'You did what?'

  'I wrote her a letter.' Chris's heart sank. Not for the first time he was mortified by his mother. 'And she wrote me one back. She said you were her first choice for a partner. She said you were extremely good at your job, but that wasn't the important thing. She said you were totally trustworthy, and she knew she could always rely on you if things went wrong. I kept the letter. I'll show it to you if you like.'

  'That was nice of her,' said Chris.

  'Oh, she meant it, dear. I know she meant it.'

  Chris felt his eyes pricking. He knew she meant it, too.

  'How are you coping without her?' his mother asked.

  'Struggling, to be honest.'

  'Ah, well. Never mind. I'm sure you'll sort it out. I know you won't let Lenka down now.'

  'No, Mum, I won't.'

  'Can you come up and visit us next weekend? Anna will be here with Vic and the boys. And your granddad would love to see you.'

  Anna was his sister. He supposed that it would be nice to see her, but they had drifted apart since her marriage to Vic at the age of twenty. And he wasn't at all convinced about his grandfather. As a boy, Chris had idolized the crotchety old war hero, but as they had both grown older, they seemed to inhabit different worlds. His grandfather was suspicious of international banking, feeling it was a suitable profession for a Jew or a German rather than a good Polish Catholic, and Chris found the old man's increasingly extreme political opinions hard to take. He could get by without seeing his grandfather.

  'Sorry, Mum, I can't. As you can imagine, there's a lot to sort out down
here. And I've got to be in America on Monday.'

  'You're always off somewhere or other, aren't you? All right, dear. Have a good trip. And I am so sorry about Lenka.'

  Chris said goodbye, and put down the phone. He slumped back in his chair and thought about his mother. He cringed as he imagined her writing to Lenka about him. But Lenka hadn't cringed. She had understood a mother's concern for her son, and her pride in him. Chris smiled to himself. Despite their very different styles, Lenka and his mother would probably have got on very well. It was a shame they had never had the chance to meet.

  A twinge of guilt nagged at him. It wasn't the usual guilt he felt about his efforts to distance himself from his family, about disappointing his mother and grandfather. For the first time he had an inkling that his desire to keep away from them was not a sign of maturity, but rather the opposite. His mother was a good woman, who truly loved him, and would do anything for him. If he really was an independent adult, there should be nothing in that to threaten him. Once he had truly established his own identity away from his family then there would be no shame or danger in seeing them. Lenka was a strong, independent person who had immediately seen the goodness in his mother. He was ashamed that he hadn't the strength to do that too.

  Lenka.

  He glanced across the room at his computer, and wondered whether the mysterious Marcus had anything more to say about her. He switched on the machine and checked his e-mail, as he had done at frequent intervals throughout the weekend.

  There was something. Between Hot Russian Babes Download and How to make $2,000 per week from home was a message entitled simply Lenka. It was from Marcus.

  Chris opened it.

  I was horrified to learn of Lenka's murder. It makes me concerned for my own safety. I know that you were one of the people on the boat when my brother died. Will you tell me what really happened?

  Marcus

  Chris stared at the message. He had promised Marcus information about Alex's death. What could he tell him?

  The problem was that he couldn't be sure what Marcus already knew. Megan had guessed that Lenka had told him about Duncan knocking Alex into the sea, and Ian had confirmed that that was what Lenka intended to do, but Chris couldn't be sure what she had actually said to him. And even if Lenka had told Marcus about Duncan, what if Marcus had decided to go to the police? With Lenka dead, he would have no evidence, unless Chris gave it to him now. That didn't seem to Chris a good idea.

  He started tapping the keyboard.

  Marcus

  I can't tell you precisely what happened. What I can say is that your brother's death was a genuine accident. Can you tell me what Lenka told you before she died? I'd like to talk to you directly, if I can, so please give me your phone number and address. Or you can contact me on one of the numbers below.

  Chris signed off giving a handful of phone numbers: home, work, fax, mobile, and his address, and sent the e-mail. He had to know what Marcus had discovered, and what he was planning to do with the information.

  8

  Wednesday was horrible. Since it was possible to fly to Prague, attend Lenka's funeral, and fly back in one day, that was what they had done. Duncan was ostentatiously miserable the whole time. Chris's pleasure at seeing Megan again was tempered by her distracted manner. It was clear that she didn't like Duncan's presence. And, of course, she too was upset by the occasion. Most of the long day's travelling was passed in silence, or desultory small talk.

  They took a taxi from Ruzyně airport to Mělník, about thirty kilometres north of Prague. It was an ancient medieval town situated at the meeting point of two large rivers, the Vltava and the Elbe, dominated by an impressive castle, and surrounded by vine-clad slopes. But the crematorium was functional and depressing, the many mourners, most of them Lenka's contemporaries, raised no more than a hushed greeting to each other, and her parents were devastated. There was no religious service, just music, and a eulogy from one of Lenka's friends. Although Chris couldn't understand a word of what she said, he could understand the sorrow.

  Apart from that moment, Chris was surprised by how little he felt during the ceremony. It was hard to imagine Lenka growing up in this pretty little town, much harder than it was to be aware of her presence in the office in London, or even on the streets of Prague. Although he knew that the coffin must contain her body, he didn't feel that the Lenka he knew was there. He didn't know quite where she was, but he knew she wasn't there.

  The ceremony, such as it was, ended, and, after a few sad words with Lenka's parents during which Chris managed to tell them that he had instructed Carpathian's solicitors to take care of Lenka's affairs in London, the three of them gratefully climbed back into the waiting taxi.

  At Stansted, Megan took a train back to Cambridge and Chris and Duncan took one in the opposite direction to Liverpool Street. They sat opposite each other and stared out at the Essex night rushing by, their reflections interrupted by the flash of station lights.

  'Thanks for agreeing to have lunch with Khalid tomorrow,' Duncan said.

  'No problem.'

  'I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it. Something's come up.'

  'That's OK,' said Chris, although in truth he was a little annoyed that he could be bothered to see Duncan's client and Duncan couldn't.

  'Have you ever heard of someone called Marcus?' Chris asked.

  'Marcus? I don't think so. Wait, isn't there a Marcus Neale who works for Harrison Brothers?'

  'No. Not him. This man's American. Tall, thin, longish hair.'

  Duncan shook his head. 'No.'

  'Oh.' There was a pause. Chris noticed that Duncan was wary. Well he might be. 'I went round to Lenka's flat last week.'

  Duncan grunted.

  'I met one of her neighbours. He said he'd seen you hanging around.'

  'Me?'

  'It sounded a lot like you from his description. He said that you'd approached Lenka and she'd ignored you.'

  Duncan didn't answer. He turned to face the night. Chris waited.

  Eventually, Duncan answered. 'It's true. When things went wrong with Pippa, I tried to get in touch with Lenka. She didn't want to see me. But I didn't give up. She was too important to me to give up on.'

  'So you hassled her?'

  'No. I did watch her from a distance, sometimes, but I don't think she saw me. I wrote to her. And I approached her a couple of times, like that one you mentioned. But I didn't "hassle" her. I didn't force myself on her, if that's what you mean.' He smiled. 'It's funny. The week before she died, she called me. She wanted to see me. She said she had something important to tell me. We met in a bar somewhere near your office.'

  'What was it?'

  Duncan sighed. 'I don't know. I think I screwed it up. There was so much I wanted to tell her. She tried to stop me, but I needed to say it. I think I must have gone over the top. She left.'

  'Before she told you anything?'

  'Oh, she told me there was absolutely no chance of us ever getting together again,' muttered Duncan bitterly. 'The last time I saw her, and that was the last thing she said to me.' Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes.

  'Bloody hell, Duncan, don't you realize that she must have had something quite important to say? Why didn't you listen to her, for God's sake?'

  For a moment, Duncan looked surprised at the vehemence in Chris's voice. Then the resigned expression returned. 'I don't care now. It's too late.'

  Chris leaned forward. 'Listen to me, Duncan. I know who Marcus is, even if you say you don't. He's Alex Lubron's brother. Lenka sent him an e-mail saying she wanted to tell him something, and she wanted to talk to you.' Chris was careful not to mention Ian in all of this. If Duncan found out about his relationship with Lenka, it might seriously unbalance him. And Chris wanted Duncan to be as balanced as possible. 'I think it was something to do with Alex's death. Now, do you have any idea at all what Lenka was going to say to Marcus?'

  Duncan sighed and closed his eyes. 'I do know who Marc
us is. In fact, he came to see me. He'd just seen Lenka in your office that afternoon. She'd told him that I'd hit Alex on the boat, and that was how he fell in the sea. Marcus waited for me outside the office. He got me on the way home. We were shouting at each other in the street.'

  'What did he say?'

  'He asked if it was true that I'd killed Alex. He asked why. He asked why I'd kept quiet about it. Then he gave me a lot of abuse.'

  'And what did you do?'

  Duncan sighed. 'I took it. You know I never felt comfortable about keeping it all quiet. I mean, it was very good of you all to do it, and I know I could have ended up behind bars, but Marcus had a point. It was unfair to him not to know what really happened.'

  Chris grunted. 'Perhaps.'

  'Then he ran out of steam. He stood there, sort of shifting from foot to foot. I thought he was going to leave me alone, when he took a swing at me. I just covered my face. He kept on trying to hit me, until some passers-by pulled him off. I turned and legged it. I didn't want to fight him.'

  'What do you think he'll do?' asked Chris. 'Do you think he'll go to the police?'

  Duncan shrugged. 'Maybe. I don't know.'

  'Why didn't you tell me this before? Why did you pretend you didn't know who he was?'

  Duncan sighed. 'After everything all of you had done to keep things quiet, I didn't want to admit that I'd let you down. That I'd let out what had really happened. I just hoped that Marcus would go away and I could forget about him.'

  'But why didn't you deny it?'

  'It was too late. Lenka had already told him. Besides, he had a right to know.'

  He had a right to know. Lenka's words. Well, he knew now. And Chris had no idea what he would do with that knowledge.

  Chris spent all the next day at the office, with only a break at midday to have lunch with Duncan's client, Khalid, at a restaurant in Devonshire Square in the City. Khalid was twenty minutes late, but was all smiles when he finally arrived. He seemed to be about Chris's age, neatly dressed with a small black moustache, warm brown eyes and a ready grin. They indulged in the typical market small talk. It turned out that Khalid was a friend of Faisal, the Saudi on Chris's training programme who was now apparently in charge of a large pan-Gulf investment fund. The waitress came, and Khalid flirted expertly with her before ordering his sole done in a very particular way. No wine.