Codename Files Nos.1, 2 & 3
Page 22
Our destination was not far from where we had abandoned the police car at the beginning of the day. Geoffrey also recognised it and I saw him looking for any potential trouble. He was becoming a combat soldier. I nodded at him and said, ‘All clear.’ He smiled and nodded back.
Maria opened the large garage door by remote control and drove us into the dark, underground car park. Bright strip lights came on automatically and the garage door closed behind us. She said, ‘This all belongs with the villa.’
She led us over to a sealed doorway, entered a code into a keypad on the wall and the metal entrance slid open. She smiled and said, ‘Your own personal lift.’ We all stepped inside. Maria pressed the button and the door closed. ‘It goes to all floors; you will see.’
The lift opened and we stepped out into a cool, elegant space. The floor was ivory marble and the walls were white with a yellow tinge as if someone had squeezed a lemon over them. The big room faced west and looked out across the blue pool to the ocean and the giant cliffs beyond. It was a view that drew your gaze and held your attention with the charisma of a Monet or a Van Gogh. Maria was watching my face and said, ‘It is beautiful, no?’ She was right. I watched her search for and then locate a key hanging from a small hook in the recess of the wooden doorframe behind the light, silk drapes. She unlocked and open outwards the wide French doors. I felt the heat as I stepped into the sunshine. We walked to the edge of the pool with Geoffrey following. I said, ‘Stay by the door.’ I didn’t want him out in the open on the terrace. I followed Maria to the ornamental perimeter wall. Below was a thirty-foot drop to a narrow, dusty access road. I looked up again and then turned around, pulling my eyes from the view, and surveyed the villa. It was made of off-white stone with white windows and doors; set on two floors with three balconies. The cliff here was steep, and the architect had built the villa into a step cut from the rock and supported beneath with concrete hidden by the blocked walls and the natural rock.
Maria was making her sales pitch. She said, ‘The villa is only ten years old. A famous local architect designed it and the builders constructed it using only the finest materials. It is a very good investment. This location is unique. The view is very special.’
I nodded and then asked Geoffrey, ‘Do you like it?’
He looked up, surprised and replied, ‘It’s very nice.’
Maria asked, ‘But do you like it?’
I smiled at her and said, ‘Yes, Señorita de Cordoba, it’s perfect.’
We went back inside and Maria showed us the kitchen, which had a wide door that led onto the terrace and an area for outdoor dining.
Maria said, ‘The owners are German, from Hamburg, I think. They come once a year. Sometimes holidaymakers rent the villa. This week it is empty.’
We took the lift to the upstairs floor and Maria showed us the bedrooms. They all had their own bathroom and opened onto terraced balconies with views of the ocean. Maria continued her sales pitch and said, ‘This is a very quiet area with the beach close and the marina; there is the marina.’ She pointed down, south-west, to where we could see a walled corner of white boats. I looked for Dancing Brave, but without binoculars, we were too far away for me to see her. If she was there.
I asked, ‘Is the villa alarmed?’
Maria answered, ‘No, the keypad in the garage is just to open the lift.’ Then she added, ‘an alarm could be fitted if it was needed. It would be simple to do.’
We completed the tour. If I really did have over a million euros to spend on a villa then I would buy this one.
Maria asked, ‘So, how do you like it?’
‘It’s a lovely villa.’
‘Is it lovely enough to buy?’ She asked and smiled cheekily.
I said, ‘Maybe,’ and smiled back.
‘Do you want to look again?’
‘No, thanks, I’ve seen enough.’
‘Okay,’ she said and passed me her business card and I told her I would call her the following day.
I asked, ‘Before we leave can I use the toilet?’
‘Yes, of course. It is that way.’ She pointed.
I knew where it was. I had already made a note of the downstairs guest cloakroom. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’
I went in and closed the door. The window was low and tall with wooden louvre shutters that locked using a horizontal swing bar. It opened inwards and fixed with a hook on the wall. The window had a locking handle, which freed with a half turn. I pushed quietly to break the sticky seal and the stained glass window swung outwards. I looked out to fix the location and confirm my bearings. I pulled the window too, leaving it ajar and then did the same with the shutter. I flushed the toilet and left, closing the door behind me.
Back at the lift, Maria and Geoffrey were discussing house prices. Maria turned to me and said, ‘I know the German owners want to sell; I know this. They will take offers. I think you can have this villa.’
‘Thank you, Maria, you may well be right.’
‘Señor, call me tomorrow. Tell me how much you want to pay. We can talk with the sellers. A deal can be made; I am sure of it.’
In the lift, Maria asked where she could take us. I told her that I would rather walk as it was sunny and I wanted to think about the villa. Geoffrey agreed with my decision by saying it was a good idea. On the road beside the garage doors, we waved goodbye to Maria as she drove away in her big 4x4. When she was out of sight Geoffrey and I looked at each other and smiled. My plan had worked.
Chapter 24
The contract of ‘3 hearts’ is a promise that the partnership will take nine tricks with hearts as the trump suit.
We walked together away from the garage door and along the road until we reached the turning. The narrow slip road swung downhill around a tight bend and we followed it onto a dusty strip of tarmac. A wide view of the curving black beach appeared below. After two dozen paces or so, a thirty-foot drystone wall rose above us radiating heat in the strong sunshine. At the end of the wall was a wooden gate painted white. Behind it was a steep flight of tiled steps. The gate had a padlock with a sign that read in English, Spanish and German: No through Access, Private Villa.
‘Can you climb it?’ I asked. Geoffrey nodded unconvincingly. The road was empty and we were alone. I went first and then he followed. We ascended the steps quickly. At the top was a second gate. Again, a padlock secured the gate and this one was harder to climb. I threw Geoffrey’s bag over and then gave him a leg up. He scrambled over and I heard him land heavily on the other side.
‘I’m okay,’ he called back. I pulled myself up and over. We were in a walled courtyard with large pots that contained plants bearing red flowers and where corner palm trees gave cooling shade. The courtyard adjoined the villa. One of the balconies overlooked it. In the corner of the far wall were steps leading to a door, which had shutters and a lock. Beside the door was a window. We walked over to it and I could see it was ajar. After scanning over the area to ensure nobody was watching I reached up and pulled the window open.
‘Can you do it?’ I asked.
Geoffrey tutted and said, ‘Yes, I can do it.’ The pause was brief. ‘Help me.’ I took his bag from him and then gave him a booster. He pushed open the shutter and I shoved him. ‘Not so fast. Give me time.’ I threw the bags in after him and then pulled myself up and in. I closed and locked both the window and shutter behind me. Geoffrey was smiling.
I asked, ‘Okay?’
He said, ‘That was fun.’
We had safely returned to the villa and nobody had seen us do it. It felt good. We were out of danger and I had the chance to rest, consider our situation and decide on our next move. I took the key from the hook and opened the kitchen door. Geoffrey said, ‘I’m going to make a pot of tea; do you want a cup?’
Built into the steep cliff, the villa had seclusion enough to make it safe for us to use the kitchen terrace. Sitting outside at the wooden table, we drank the German owner’s tea and ate what was left of the food from my ruck
sack.
I lifted my t-shirt, carefully removed the dressing and examined my knife wound. The stitches were all still in place and the purple colouration was beginning to fade. It was tender and sore, but it was healing okay. I reapplied a fresh dressing and then swallowed two painkillers with my second cup of tea from the pot. Geoffrey watched me throughout.
‘Does it still hurt?’ he asked.
‘Only when I move,’ I said.
It was time to call Charlotte. What was I going to say to her? I held my Sony phone in preparation and then realised the battery needed recharging. I used a socket in the kitchen and left it on the side. Charlotte would have to wait.
I returned to the table on the terrace and Geoffrey said, ‘What are we going to do?’
As usual, it was a good question. ‘Who do you trust the most, Charlotte Miller or Stephen Bradshaw?’ I asked.
‘Earlier, I would have said Charlotte. Now, I’m not so sure,’ he said and his eyes showed the worry he felt.
‘Well, we had better be sure because our lives may well depend on it.’
Geoffrey’s face turned grave and he nodded slowly. ‘Yes, you may be right,’ he said. ‘So, how do we make sure?’
It was another good question. I didn’t have the answer. I thought about it. My money was still on Charlotte. If she wanted Geoffrey dead, then why would she go to all the bother of putting me in place. It just didn’t add up. She couldn’t be anything other than on our side. The mistake with my K106 may have simply been that, an unforeseen, unavoidable mistake. Stephen Bradshaw must have got it wrong. Either he was playing mind games or someone was feeding him false information. I shared my thoughts with Geoffrey who was keen to discuss them and we concluded that, barring any further evidence to the contrary we would continue to trust Charlotte, with the proviso that Geoffrey could change his mind if he felt he needed to at any time. After all, his life was on the line. I was just along for the ride. I didn’t argue with him.
We sat in silence. We were thinking. I felt my body slow and realised I was tired. It would be a good idea to use this opportunity to get some sleep while we could. I told Geoffrey who nodded back with a hastening sleepy expression.
We sat in deeply padded chairs with wide arms and a mechanism for making them recline. We both got comfortable and closed our eyes. As always, I was asleep in seconds. I do the trick by letting my mind empty and then my body follows without complaint into a rapid, deep sleep. I always dream. This time, the images were unclear. The people, the places, my emotions; they all existed inside a haze. It had a sequence, that I knew, but seeing the dream or any of its detail was lost to me. Then, without warning, it cleared and I found myself in a hospital. I was standing beside a bed. Asleep in the bed was my mother. I fixed my eyes on her face and I knew she was dying. Her eyes opened and she saw me. She smiled softly with a happiness I had known all my life. Her voice was quiet. She said, ‘I knew you would come. Sit beside me. There is something I must tell you.’ I sat on the bed and she took my hand. I wanted her to tell me, but before she could say what it was that she wanted to tell me an insistent ringing pulled me awake. It was the Sony phone ringing in the kitchen.
I got up and went inside. The caller ID told me it was Charlotte. I answered the call. Geoffrey followed me inside. He wanted to hear what I was saying. I shook the sleep from my body and in reply to Charlotte’s question said, ‘He’s been sitting in the shade drinking tea and sleeping. Your call has disturbed his naptime.’
She ignored me and said, ‘What I’m telling you is important; don’t use your K106; it’s been compromised. I know I said it was safe to use but the encryption I put in place to conceal you as the user, has been broken. Whoever made the change did it in such a way that it was not obvious; I have only just discovered it. Switch it off immediately.’
Did I or did I not believe her. It sounded credible, but then it would wouldn’t it. I said, ‘We’ve already found that out. Your friend Bradshaw and his two men, Baines and Treadwell, showed up.’
‘What happened?’
‘Bradshaw said he had worked out what was going on, and then he tried to persuade us to go with him. He promised us he could sort everything out.’
‘What did you do?’
'Don’t you want to know how he tried to persuade us?’
‘Yes, all right, how?’
‘He told us you were not who we thought you were,’ I said.
‘What did he mean?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘He was attempting to deceive you, nothing else; trying to get you to do what he wanted. It’s either that or someone is giving him false information. You didn’t believe him did you?’
I didn’t answer her. Instead, I said, ‘What did you call me about earlier?’
She said, ‘The plan. It’s finalised. Do you want to hear it or don’t you trust me anymore?’
‘Tell me the plan,’ I said.
‘We know who the traitor is. It’s someone very senior in Whitehall; in the heart of government. Your telephone number helped me; the one you gave me from the Chinese assassin’s phone.’
‘Who is it?’ I said. She didn’t answer.
She said, ‘After we blocked his move to eliminate Geoffrey by putting you into place he had to take risks and these risks have left him open. It took us a while, but we have him.’
‘Good. So it’s over; you can expose him, and then call off the dogs and we can come home.’
Charlotte sounded apologetic. She said, ‘Look, it’s not that simple. He’s an important establishment figure with connections and friends.’
‘You’re kidding right.’ I was unhappy. ‘Listen, you tell me who he is and I’ll fly back today and kill him for you. How’s that sound?’
‘Of course, I understand how you feel but we have to do it properly. We need condemning evidence against him.’
‘Like what?’
Charlotte’s voice lifted. She said, ‘We’re going to set a trap for him.’
‘...a trap?’ I said.
‘Yes. We know from intelligence reports received from our agents in both China and Russia that our man is under intense pressure from his masters to ensure he stops Geoffrey. You’ve frustrated him so much, and with Geoffrey still safe despite everything, he’s now had to implicate himself by authorising an officially sanctioned termination without going through the properly authorised channels. Once we have the agent and his testimony we can bring it to a close.’
‘Okay, so pull in the agent and get it finished.’
‘We can’t.’
‘...why not?’
‘Because we don’t know who he is.’
‘What? ...why not?’
‘We only know what he’s done, not who he’s picked to do it. We have to wait until the sanctioned termination operative acts.’
I laughed. It was a deep throaty laugh, somewhere between Sid James and Vincent Price, a mixture of comedy and horror. ‘So, we’re the bait in your trap. We have to wait until the agent makes a move; stop him without killing him and then you make him talk.’
‘That’ll be good, yes.’
‘What if he’s successful?’
Charlotte said, ‘With you to stop him; that’s not likely.’ I didn’t know what to say. Charlotte sensed my disbelief and said, ‘Listen to me, it’s the only way. It’s important we stop the traitor, which in turn stops the intelligence leaks.’
I said, ‘More important than keeping Geoffrey alive.’
‘No. However, we can have both. I need your commitment on this. Do I have it?’
What were my choices? Neither of us spoke.
Geoffrey asked me, ‘What is she saying? Please...’ I silenced him with my raised hand.
Charlotte said, ‘If you do this and we get the traitor and keep Geoffrey alive you know what it means to you personally?’ I didn’t respond. Charlotte’s voice was persuasive. She said, ‘You will have a new job, a job to which you are much more suited. It’s a promise. If you don’
t believe me, I can have Bartholomew Meriwether tell you himself.’ She was good. I remembered the kiss in the car at the airport and later the offer of doubling my pay. Now it was a life-changing job with her mystery intelligence set-up. My heart hardened and my anger boiled. When I spoke, it was with a voice empty of all emotion except one, regret. I said to her, ‘I will continue to protect Geoffrey and keep him safe no matter what. When the person sent, whoever it is, comes I will avoid killing him if I can. But if I have to kill him to keep Geoffrey alive then I will.’
Charlotte said, ‘Yes, of course, I understand. I trust your judgement.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Do you want to hear the plan?’
‘Oh, so, there’s a plan?’
I said to Geoffrey, ‘Charlotte has a plan.’
I said to Charlotte, ‘Geoffrey looks pleased.’
She ignored my sarcasm and said, ‘Do you know how many people are currently pursuing you?’
‘Why do you need to know?’
‘Just tell me,’ she said.
‘There’s Bradshaw, Treadwell and Baines; and the three Russians for certain, and the local police and possibly Xing, the assassin from Hong Kong.’
‘Are they all still after you?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Well, because...,’ she paused. ‘…For the plan to work I have to leak your location, and when I do the traitor will give it to the agent he’s chosen, but he may also give it to all the others, or at least the Russians and the assassin from Hong Kong.’
‘What? You’re crazy,’ I said. ‘This isn’t a plan this is suicide. We’ll be sitting ducks.’
The noise came from the open-plan hallway. Geoffrey and I both heard it. We looked and then looked at each other. The noise was the sound made by the lift when it moves. Someone had arrived and was coming up.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I said not giving Charlotte time to respond before ending the call. We had to make a choice: stay and take a chance on whoever had arrived or run. I spoke urgently to Geoffrey and said, ‘Get your bag; we’re leaving.’ He was already moving. All the recent talk of life and death with Charlotte had clearly had an effect.