Codename Files Nos.1, 2 & 3

by Mark Arundel

  Missouri sank down with relief and sat on the ground like a boy. He spoke without looking up. His words were in Portuguese.

  Xing listened and then she replied. Missouri spoke again. Then Xing spoke to me.

  ‘We can make the transfer now. We can access the account using the K106. He has the codes memorised,’ she said.

  ‘I tell you the numbers and the words,’ he said to me.

  I worked the K106 and connected to Missouri’s bank. It had a secure login that required personal codes. Missouri told me the first set of numbers and I keyed them in. The second set of numbers was longer. The system accepted both and took me through to a new page. Again, it requested a login. This time, it was a six-digit number.

  ‘I have a…’ Missouri didn’t know the word. He changed to Portuguese. Jemima interpreted for me.

  ‘It’s an electronic device, provided by the bank that produces a unique security code number. It’s in his pocket.’

  Missouri took it out of his pocket and threw it to me.

  ‘Press the button,’ he said.

  It was like a key fob with a display. I pressed the button. A six-digit number appeared on the key fob screen and I typed it into the K106.

  ‘It’s asking for a password,’ I said.

  ‘…Penelope,’ Missouri said. The significance of using his daughter’s name wasn’t lost on me. It was only an hour earlier that he had willing gambled her life for a pot of gold.

  ‘Okay, I’m in,’ I said. I found the international transfer function and set up the recipient account using the numbers Meriwether had provided. ‘How much is one billion pounds in Hong Kong dollars?’ I asked.

  ‘How much is in the account?’ Xing asked. I told her the account balance. ‘Take it all,’ she said.

  Missouri groaned.

  I keyed in the amount and pressed the transfer button.

  ‘It wants another code number,’ I said.

  ‘Use the…’ Missouri said.

  ‘…this?’ I held up the key fob type device.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  I pushed the device’s button and then keyed the displayed six-digit number.

  ‘It’s asking for another password,’ I said.

  ‘Benedito,’ he said.

  I wondered whether that was his son’s name. I keyed the name and confirmed the transaction. After a short pause, a message appeared. It read transaction successful — transfer complete.

  ‘It’s done,’ I said. ‘I’ll call London.’

  Meriwether answered. He sounded thoughtful.

  ‘…really? Oh, well, I see, yes, that is remarkable news …what? Oh, yes, I’ll confirm. Very well, yes, yes, leave it to me.’

  ‘He’s going to check and then call me back,’ I said.

  While we waited, I took the opportunity to question Missouri. His face had started to colour and swell, but at least the blood flow from his cuts had mostly congealed. Going toe to toe with Xing was not an activity he was likely to take up on a regular basis. I considered offering him a couple of my painkillers.

  Instead, I asked him, ‘How did you know where we were?’

  The man with the painful, battered face didn’t answer.

  ‘Someone was giving you our location. Who was it?’

  He shook his head. ‘I not understand,’ he said.

  ‘Xing, ask him for me.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘Jemima, ask him,’ I said.

  ‘What if it was Jemima?’ Xing said.

  ‘It wasn’t me.’

  ‘Just ask him. I want to know.’

  Jemima asked Missouri in Portuguese. Missouri replied and then they had a conversation. Xing listened.

  ‘What did he say?’ I asked.

  Jemima looked at me and said, ‘He says he doesn’t know.’

  ‘…why not?’

  ‘…secrecy.’

  ‘…secrecy?’

  ‘…anonymity. Whoever it was kept their identity hidden.’

  ‘…how?’

  ‘The information regarding your location was sent directly to Missouri’s personal phone.’

  ‘…why?’

  ‘…money. Missouri paid for the information. The unidentified person sent a message to his phone offering him Mosquito’s location for a payment of one million pounds. Missouri transferred the money to an account in the Cayman Islands. He paid for a location update on one further occasion and then a double payment for an ongoing tracker feed.’

  My phone rang. It was Meriwether calling back.

  ‘Ah, dear boy,’ he said. He sounded celebratory. ‘We have the treasure. Your hunt is a success. Jolly good and very well done. You truly are a remarkable fellow. I’m drinking the finest claret and considering the words of John Keats together with the little-explored benefits of stargazing.’

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘Tell me how you managed it,’ he said.

  ‘I got lucky,’ I replied.

  ‘Ah, luck,’ Meriwether said. ‘Luck has a strange habit of favouring those who do not depend on it.’

  ‘I did have Jackie,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, quite,’ he said. ‘She is an extraordinary young woman.’

  ‘Have you gotten anywhere with what I told you?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve carried out an investigation and I’ve made some progress. I shall have to consider the matter further. We can discuss it when you return. Do you know your future arrangements yet?’

  ‘I’m done here,’ I said. ‘Can you get me on a plane? It’ll take me a couple of hours to get to the airport.’

  ‘I’ll make the arrangements,’ he said. ‘I’ll have the details sent to your K106.’

  I growled and then said, ‘I never want to use a K106 again.’

  Meriwether guffawed. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you do appear unfortunate when it comes to the use of satellite technology. It must be your popularity—everybody always wants to know where you are.’

  I didn’t laugh.

  ‘What about Jackie?’ Meriwether asked. ‘Shall I book her on the flight too?’

  I asked Xing if she was coming with me.

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll catch a later flight.’

  ‘No, it’s just me,’ I said.

  ‘Very well,’ Meriwether said. He sounded strange.

  I didn’t ask why. Xing was watching me and waiting.

  I ended the call and then nodded at her.

  ‘He has the transfer,’ I said.

  Instantly, I saw her change. Her eyes left me and moved back to Missouri. He remained seated on the ground and raised his bloodied face. Xing raised her hand. In it, she held the Glock. Her intention was clear. The distance between us was too great. Even if I wanted to stop her, I couldn’t have. The sudden realisation showed on Missouri’s face and cold fear widened his eyes. He opened his mouth to plead. I didn’t believe anything could happen that would save him. I was wrong. In the second before Xing fired the shot that would mean certain death for Missouri we heard a chilling, piercing scream. Xing paused. I turned in the direction of the torturous cry and standing beside the taxi was Penny. Her face was white with horror and her big, terrified eyes had fixed themselves on Xing.

  ‘No,’ she screamed again. ‘Please don’t kill my father.’

  32

  TUESDAY, 04:20—16:50 (local time)

  For one fleeting moment, I thought I saw an emotion show on Xing’s face. Emotional expressions were not something at which she unnecessarily indulged. I may have been mistaken, but it looked to me like empathy.

  After the screams, the eucalyptus wood was silent. The Glock remained levelled at Missouri’s head. Everyone was staring at Penny except me. I was staring at Xing. I was wondering whether she would still kill Missouri. Penny’s intervention meant I now had time to reach Xing and intercede if I wanted to. I didn’t move.

  It seemed everyone was waiting. Even the wood, lit only by the headlamps of the cars and a shy moon, appeared expectant.
/>   Then, with a trace of annoyance, Xing broke the hangman’s vow and said, ‘Let’s leave.’

  She lowered the Glock and gabbled at the duckling in Cantonese. He jumped on her words and ran to the taxi.

  ‘Shall I get in?’ asked Jemima.

  I hadn’t realised how pale he looked.

  ‘Yes, get in,’ I said.

  Penny ran to her father. She knelt down and her hands clasped his neck in a tight embrace.

  Xing walked over to me.

  ‘Call London,’ she said. ‘Tell them to put me on the same flight as you.’

  The duckling was just able to steer around the Mercedes. We drove away. Penny remained in a hug with her father. Missouri owed her his life. If she hadn’t woken up when she did and then screamed, Xing would have killed him for sure.

  Jemima looked at them together on the ground as we drove off, but Xing’s eyes remained frontwards.

  While we accelerated along the track and away, I made the call to London.

  ‘We’ve made a change to our plans,’ I said. ‘Jackie would now like to fly back with me.’

  ‘Oh, jolly good,’ said Meriwether. ‘I’m very much looking forward to seeing you both. I’ll make the arrangements.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Xing asked.

  ‘He said he was looking forward to seeing you,’ I told her. She didn’t reply.

  ‘I suppose you want us to take you to the ferry terminal,’ Jemima said. ‘There’s one crossing each hour during the night.’ Then he paused. ‘I suppose this means the assignment is over,’ he said. ‘We’ve recovered the money, so that’s it.’

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘I suppose London will class it as a success,’ he said. He paused again. ‘Well, it certainly was exciting.’

  Neither Xing nor I commented. The duckling, though, did. In terrible English, he said, ‘Vely citing,’ and then grinned. It made Jemima frown. We drove the rest of the way in silence.

  All the traffic seemed to move aside as if it knew we were leaving and didn’t want to hold us up. At the ferry terminal, we collected our bags from the boot but left all the hardware for Jemima. I shook his hand.

  ‘Goodbye,’ he said with a tired smile.

  Xing didn’t speak. She turned and walked away. I gave him a nod goodbye and then followed Xing into the terminal building.

  We bought our tickets and then waited. Neither of us spoke.

  Aboard the ferry, shortly before we arrived back in Hong Kong at the Shun Tak, I received a message on my K106 from London. It was the flight details. Meriwether had put his hand in his pocket for the best tickets with BA. I showed Xing.

  ‘We can sleep all the way back to London,’ I said.

  She just shrugged.

  I memorised the flight number and then I threw my K106 over the side into the South China Sea.

  ‘They will just give you a new one,’ Xing said.

  We rode the express train back to Lantau Island and then all the way to the airport.

  After visiting the BA desk where we were enjoyed warm smiles and British manners, we waited in their exclusive departure lounge for our flight.

  I made the most of the hospitality and ate a full breakfast. Xing returned to our table with what looked like a bowl of white gruel topped with a ladleful of locust stew.

  ‘What are you having?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s white rice porridge with spicy pickled radishes,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know they had that,’ I said, disappointedly. I didn’t get a laugh. I waited until she had finished. ‘So why didn’t you kill him?’ I asked. She looked at me. ‘...Missouri, why did you let him live?’

  She shrugged. ‘It was Penny,’ she said. ‘She was watching.’

  I nodded. ‘Was it empathy that you felt?’ I asked.

  Xing paused while she thought. ‘No,’ she said. There was another pause. ‘Just because I didn’t kill him tonight,’ she explained, ‘doesn’t mean I won’t kill him sometime in the future.’

  ‘What happened in the taxi?’ I asked.

  ‘...the taxi?’

  ‘Yes, while I was chasing you all over Macau did something happen in the taxi with Penny?’

  ‘She talked about herself.’

  ‘What did she say?’ I asked.

  ‘She told me that her mother is dead.’

  ‘I see,’ I said.

  ‘What does that mean?’ she asked.

  ‘It means that you feel empathy, which is an emotion of compassion.’

  Xing stared at me. It was as if I’d voiced a terrible secret. I thought she was going to tell me something, but she remained silent.

  The flight attendant told us our plane was ready to leave. We boarded the big jet where our cots awaited. They were side by side. Xing didn’t want to talk. The jet lifted off and I said goodbye to Hong Kong and Macau.

  ‘When will you return?’ I asked.

  Xing shrugged and then closed her eyes. I closed mine too and was asleep before I could have another waking thought.

  My body needed to sleep. For seven peaceful hours, the aeroplane cot was my friend. Even the pain from the injury inflicted by the rubber bullet eased. When I awoke and turned my head, Xing was watching me.

  ‘Did you sleep?’ I asked her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Why are you returning with me to London?’ I asked.

  ‘To get the money,’ she said.

  ‘They’ll transfer it into any account you want. They won’t have it waiting for you in cash.’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Has Meriwether asked you to come back?’

  ‘Don’t question me,’ she said.

  I didn’t push any further.

  The steward had more teeth than his mouth could cope with. They repeatedly attempted to escape through his shiny lips.

  ‘How do you stop your face from aching?’ I asked him.

  ‘It’s like any job, sir,’ he replied. ‘You just get used to it.’

  The wheels of the Boeing smacked the runway. It was the middle of the day, local time. London was enjoying one of those rare winter days when high pressure allows a piercing sun to glisten over the rows of frosty rooftops.

  Inside the arrivals lounge, I spotted a man wearing a peaked cap and holding up a sign. The sign read the great eastern treasure hunt party.

  ‘How do you do, sir,’ the man with the peaked cap said.

  ‘Who are you?’ I asked.

  ‘My name is Parsons, sir...miss.’ He acknowledged Xing. ‘Mr. M requests the pleasure of your company for luncheon. He suggested I drive you home first, so you can dress. The motorcar is just outside. Can I take your bag, miss?’

  Xing held on to her bag.

  Parsons led us to an old Bentley. The burnished coachwork dazzled in the winter sunshine.

  ‘I trust your journey was not too tiring, miss?’ he asked, while opening the boot for our bags.

  Xing and I sat in the back quietly while the peak capped Parsons wafted us into the West End. He parked outside my apartment in Pimlico.

  ‘I’ll wait for you in the motorcar, sir,’ he said, while passing out our bags from the open boot.

  ‘Thank you, Parsons,’ Xing said, in a posh English accent. The words came edged with subtle humour.

  My apartment felt cold and unloved.

  ‘Turn up the heating,’ Xing said. She pressed against my back. ‘I’m cold,’ she added.

  We showered together, but it was different. I don’t know why. We dressed quickly and then returned to the waiting Parsons in his gleaming Bentley.

  He drove us across town to St. James’s Square and Meriwether’s club.

  ‘Thanks, Parsons,’ I said.

  ‘Not at all, sir,’ he replied.

  Inside Meriwether’s club, we found him waiting for us in the lounge used by members to entertain their visitors. As usual, he was standing at the bar with a martini shaker nearby. He was thinking. What he was thinking about, I have no idea.

&nbs
p; ‘Did you know,’ he said, as we walked over, ‘it’s taken me all this time, but I’ve finally persuaded the chef to put steak and kidney pie on the luncheon menu?’

  ‘No, I didn’t know,’ I said.

  ‘Well, it has,’ he said. ‘Good afternoon, my dear.’ Meriwether’s attention seamlessly transferred to Xing. ‘How was your flight? I trust the airline staff made you comfortable.’

  Xing’s eyes held Meriwether’s face as if his manner and voice fascinated her.

  ‘We slept most of the way,’ she said.

  ‘Excellent,’ he replied. ‘Are you ready for a nice spot of luncheon? Let’s go through. All is prepared.’

  Meriwether led us to the same small room in which we had spent Christmas Eve. Someone had laid the table for our meal and put a match to the fire. The bobcat was spitting and snarling in the grate.

  A waiter entered wheeling a hostess trolley that seemed difficult to push.

  ‘Everything is just as you ordered, sir,’ the waiter said.

  ‘Thank you, Carson,’ Meriwether replied.

  ‘Will that be all, sir?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Carson. That will be all.’

  The waiter left and we were alone.

  Meriwether stood and went to the fire. He used the poker like a lion tamer.

  ‘It must be the wood,’ he said. ‘This fire spits worse than a bad-tempered llama.’

  Satisfied with his blaze control, he went to the trolley. Using the back of his hand, he felt the temperature of the top white plate.

  ‘Apparently, we lost the signal from your K106 somewhere between Macau and Hong Kong,’ he said.

  ‘I threw it in the South China Sea,’ I said.

  Meriwether nodded. ‘That’s what I thought,’ he said. ‘I must tighten the security on those bloody things. I’ll speak to our technical boys. They’ll work something out.’

  ‘I don’t feel reassured,’ I said. ‘Do you know who it was yet?’

  Meriwether opened one of the lids and peered inside. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. ‘This whole business has been about money. Lead us not in to temptation... Firstly, there was the banker, secondly, the triad and now thirdly, this. You know, nothing makes a person more vulnerable than greed.’

  ‘What about sex?’ I asked.

  Meriwether guffawed loudly. ‘Well, yes, there is that, I suppose. Anyway, important matters first, I must settle my debt.’ He sat back down. ‘Into which bank account would you like your fee transferred, my dear?’