by Mark Arundel
‘I have an account in Liechtenstein,’ Xing said.
Meriwether nodded. ‘Do you have the numbers?’
‘I have them memorised.’
Meriwether took a pen and small notebook from his jacket pocket. Xing told him the bank account numbers while he wrote them down.
‘I will have the transfer made tomorrow, my dear,’ he said.
‘When are you going to tell me?’ I asked.
‘I thought you would want to eat first.’
‘Someone sold information to Missouri that very nearly cost us our lives, on more than one occasion. I don’t want to eat first.’
‘Are you sure? We’re having steak and kidney pie,’ Meriwether said.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever eaten steak and kidney pie,’ Xing said.
‘You won’t like it,’ I told her. ‘Well, who was it?’
Before Meriwether could reply, the waiter, Carson, returned.
‘Your third guest has arrived, sir,’ he said. ‘Shall I show her in?’
‘Yes, very good, Carson, show her in.’
‘Who’s the third guest?’ I asked.
Before Meriwether could answer, Charlotte entered the room.
‘C, lovely to see you, it’s so good of you to come,’ Meriwether greeted her.
Charlotte Miller was dressed immaculately. Her outfit was elegant and stylish. It gave her an air of glossy sophistication.
‘I’m so glad you’re back safely,’ she said, ‘both of you,’ she added. She smiled at me.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked. I had started to get that feeling I got whenever something important was happening of which I had no prior knowledge. It was not a feeling I liked.
‘There is nothing going on,’ Meriwether said. ‘We simply have a few loose ends, nothing more.’
‘What kind of loose ends?’ I asked.
‘That is the reason I asked Charlotte to join us,’ Meriwether explained. ‘Now, let us eat this S. and K.’ He stood and moved towards the trolley.
‘What are S. and K?’ enquired Charlotte.
‘Steak and kidney, my dear,’ he explained.
‘Will one of you just tell me what’s going on,’ I said.
Meriwether ignored me and began spooning generous helpings of S. and K. pie onto each plate.
‘Shall I explain?’ Charlotte asked.
‘After we’ve eaten,’ Meriwether said. ‘I’m very much looking forward to tasting this pie.’ He finished with the serving spoons and then rejoined us at the table.
‘Please, start,’ he said.
We all began and the room fell silent. Xing, it was who broke the silence.
‘I don’t like steak and kidney pie,’ she said.
33
TUESDAY, 16:50—22:30
We left Meriwether’s club in a black cab.
Outside, the frost sparkled and the falling sun threw yellow bands across the darkening ground.
Xing pulled on her tight fitting gloves, positioned a soft hat using both hands and then turned up the collar on her coat.
After finishing our lunch and discussing Meriwether’s loose ends with Charlotte, I wasn’t unhappy to get away. Meriwether had cleaned his plate. He was the only one. Charlotte chose to stay behind. She didn’t say why.
Throughout our time around the table, Charlotte was hard to read, but I got the feeling that she wanted to talk to me privately and soon. As far as I could tell, the loose ends were not my concern. I had completed my assignment, despite the unforeseen difficulties. Surely, it was now Meriwether’s responsibility to decide what action he wanted to take. He hadn’t given me any instructions and I presumed the briefing was for information only. I was wrong.
Xing told the cab driver our destination, which wasn’t Pimlico, as I had expected, but Chelsea.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘I want to see him,’ she said.
‘Why? I asked. ‘Back in Macau, you said you didn’t care.’
‘I want to ask him why he did it.’
‘He did it for the money,’ I said.
‘Yes, but what does he want the money for?’
‘What difference does it make? Why does anyone want money?’
‘Aren’t you angry that he betrayed you?’ she asked.
‘I’m not happy about it, but those useless K106s are as much to blame. If Meriwether or VX had tighter security or the phones were fitted with an optional scrambler device to block the location signal then it wouldn’t happen. Temptation removed, problem solved.’
‘You’re right,’ she said, which was an unusual thing for her to say, not that I wasn’t usually right, of course, but it wasn’t like Xing to say so. ‘I still want to go if only to get an admission of guilt and an apology.’
‘...an apology, why do you care about an apology?’
‘Well, I’m still going. If you don’t want to come you can take the cab home from Chelsea.’ Xing was adamant. I felt that trying to dissuade her was hopeless.
The cab driver turned left onto Elm Park Gardens.
‘Where are you going in Chelsea, love?’ the cab driver asked.
Xing told him the street name, but not the full address.
‘This type of confrontation is always embarrassing,’ I said. ‘You don’t need to do it. Why don’t we just leave it to Meriwether and Charlotte? It’s up to them.’
‘Where do you want on the street, love?’ the cab driver asked.
‘...anywhere.’
The cab driver immediately found the kerb.
‘Well, are you coming?’ she asked.
I followed her onto the pavement. After taking his fare, the cab driver clattered away.
Xing checked the nearest house number and then walked off. Again, I followed. The north facing entrance was dark. We stood together on the step and looked at the row of silver buttons.
‘How do you know his address?’ I asked.
‘It was in one of the documents Meriwether sent,’ she said.
‘I don’t remember seeing it.’
Her stiff, gloved index finger pressed the button.
‘Come up,’ the high voice said. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’
The front door buzzed like a drunken bumblebee. Inside, we climbed the old staircase. In places, it creaked under our feet.
‘Why is he expecting us?’ I asked.
‘You heard what Meriwether said about him. He’s a mathematical whiz kid and a computer mastermind.’
James ‘Hoagy’ Brancaster Carmichael let us in. To this day, I don’t understand why.
In places, the loft rafters showed like the ribs of a half-eaten carcass. Immaculate furnishings and the scent of expensive perfume filled my eyes and nose. Standing timidly as he was, inside the small apartment, I noticed Hoagy’s slender build and feminine mouth.
‘I’m so glad to see you both safe,’ he said. ‘Recovering that money was a remarkable achievement.’ He paused, but neither of us spoke. ‘You’ll take coffee or tea.’
‘Why did you do it?’ I asked.
He stopped and turned. ‘Haute couture is so expensive,’ he said, ‘and I cannot resist.’
‘You got a million the first time, so why a second and then a third?’
His narrow shoulders slumped. ‘After I had done it once it was easier and each million was irresistible. Did Meriwether send you?’
‘No, we came on our own.’ I said.
‘Yes, he did,’ Xing said.
‘I thought so,’ Hoagy said. He produced the gun from nowhere. He must have had it in his hand already, held concealed against his leg. I hadn’t noticed, not that I was anticipating a gun. It was a Beretta Tomcat, which was one of the smallest semi-automatic pistols sold by the Italian manufacturer. Despite this, in Hoagy’s hand, now that it was pointing at us, the weapon looked big.
‘Have you ever fired a gun before?’ I asked with a grin in an attempt to ease the situation.
‘I’m going away,’ he said. ‘It’s for the b
est. Please tell Meriwether. I know he’ll understand.’
‘Hoagy, you don’t need the gun,’ I said. I was wrong.
Xing used a very old, very effective trick. The distance was four long strides at most. She focused her vision beyond him and acting frightened shouted, ‘What’s that behind you?’ She simultaneously lifted her arm and pointed.
Hoagy’s natural instinct made him turn to look. It was all the time Xing needed. The four strides vanished in a blur. He turned back and tried to aim, but he was too slow. She reached him, gripped his wrist and pushed the gun upwards while twisting his arm outwards. Her body turned and she took him down with a simple judo throw. Hoagy landed on his back with Xing on top. The fall must have winded him because he gulped for air. The Beretta had fallen from his hand. Xing picked it up. She put him in a headlock and then wrapped her legs around his midriff.
Up until now I hadn’t moved as I assumed Xing was simply disarming him. That wasn’t the case.
Like a conjurer, a polythene bag with drawstrings appeared in Xing’s hand. While holding the Beretta in her teeth and Hoagy with her legs she fitted the polythene bag over his head and pulled tight the drawstrings. The opening of the bag closed tightly around his slim neck.
It was then that I moved. Xing dropped the Beretta from her mouth, caught it in her hand and aimed at me in under a second.
‘I’ll shoot you!’ she threatened.
I stopped. ‘Don’t do this,’ I said.
Xing didn’t respond. She maintained her death grip on Hoagy while levelling the Beretta at me. I knew that if I moved closer she would carry out her threat and shoot me. I couldn’t be certain whether she would shoot to kill.
I knew from experience that without oxygen, Hoagy would rapidly lose consciousness, his heart would stop and death would soon follow.
Hoagy stopped struggling. Xing’s eyes never left me. Not once did she glance down. Her arm remained locked with the Beretta aimed at my chest.
‘He doesn’t have to die, not for this,’ I said.
Xing’s position never altered. I realised that nothing I said would change the situation. It was a job. Meriwether had asked her to kill Hoagy and she never failed to complete a job.
James Carmichael died of suffocation on the floor of his Chelsea loft with a polythene bag over his head and the legs of his female killer wrapped tightly around his body.
Satisfied he was dead, Xing released her death grip but left the bag secured tightly over his head. She was perhaps just making sure.
I wondered about Xing’s threat.
‘Would you have shot me?’ I asked.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, ‘He knew that only with us both dead was he safe from discovery. That was why he continued to give away our location. He needed Missouri to kill us.’
I thought about it and realised Xing was right.
‘I’m leaving,’ she said. ‘I’m flying back to Hong Kong tonight.’
She checked Hoagy for a pulse and then certain that his heart had not restarted she removed the polythene bag and put it in her coat pocket along with the Beretta.
In death, Hoagy’s face was ashen and his full lips were mauve as if painted with lipstick.
Xing threw me a phone. ‘Meriwether wants you to call him,’ she said. ‘Before you go, make sure you wipe your fingerprints off the doors and anything else you touch and make sure nobody sees you leave.’
She walked past me to the door. ‘We’ll meet again,’ she promised, and then she left.
I used the phone and called Meriwether.
‘Is it done?’ he asked.
‘You should have told me,’ I said.
‘I know I should. I wanted to tell you. I’m very sorry. Can you forgive me?’
‘Tell me why,’ I said.
‘He broke the only rule that matters.’
‘Which is?’
‘...loyalty, of course. In our business, betrayal is the worst of all crimes. I’m sorry, but the rules are not mine.’
‘Xing said she was flying back to Hong Kong tonight.’
‘Yes, she is. I apologise for planning all this without your knowledge. She truly is an extraordinary person. She didn’t give a specific reason just that she had some matters in Hong Kong that required her attention. She has promised to make contact again soon.’
I wondered whether that was true.
‘I’m not sure I want to continue in your employ,’ I said abruptly.
‘Dear boy, I understand. May I suggest a holiday? Time to rest and consider matters. I can recommend the perfect place. What do you say?’
I didn’t answer.
‘Good,’ said Meriwether. ‘Now then, there’s just the matter of the body. For reasons we don’t need to go into now, I don’t want him found for a while. I suggest placing the body into a container of some kind and leaving it in the bathroom with the door closed. Also, make sure the Yale is on, so the apartment door locks when you leave. Oh, and don’t leave any fingerprints, the police are bound to get involved and we know what little terriers they are when they get a sniff of something good. Well, I think that’s all.’
‘How will I find a container big enough?’
‘Oh, you’ll think of something. Now, is there anything else?’
I didn’t respond.
‘Very well, I’ll make the arrangements for your holiday and have them sent to you. Once again, I am truly sorry. Enjoy your break and we’ll talk again when you’re fully rested.’
Meriwether ended the call.
I looked down at Hoagy’s lifeless body. ‘Perhaps you’re better off,’ I said.
The only thing I found big enough was a holdall bag. I had to remove his clothes, but I was just able to fit his body inside and zip it shut. I placed it in the bath and shut the door. After wiping my prints off everything I left the apartment, ensuring the Yale was down and nobody saw me.
Outside, it was almost dark. The city appeared dull in the twilight like a half-remembered dream. I started to walk. The air was cold and it chilled my face. My pockets were warm.
I felt downcast. The mood remained with me all the way back to Pimlico. It only changed when I saw who was waiting for me, but I’m not sure whether it improved or worsened.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to get back.’
‘Back to England or back to the apartment?’ I asked.
‘Um, both, I suppose,’ he said.
It was Stephen Bradshaw. His face, in the half-light, was ugly like a gargoyle. He raised a cigarette to his mouth and the tip glowed orange. His features didn’t improve. He threw the cigarette down and it rolled away.
‘When can you complete the ST?’ he asked.
‘You better come inside.’ I said.
The central heating was on and my apartment felt less unloved than it did earlier although I felt the opposite. The sandstone lamps were twins, a gift from Charlotte and they reflected in the glass that overlooked the Thames. Like most people when they first visit, Stephen Bradshaw walked over to the view and his face became a stare. The lights danced on the cold river like fire demons at play.
‘When can you do it?’ he asked.
‘I can’t do it,’ I told him.
‘...why not?’ he asked.
I joined him beside the view, which soothing charms hadn’t softened his appearance.
‘You know why not,’ I said.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘The ST is unofficial.’
‘No, no it isn’t,’ he said. His voice had lifted.
I didn’t want this conversation. Would I have to tie off all Meriwether’s loose ends?
‘William Chester remains under suspicion of murder with the police, his job at the bank is under review and his wife and daughters are no longer living in the family home. Don’t you think blowing him up too seems a little unreasonable.’
Stephen Bradshaw was silent. He stared through the glass and frowned.
I waited.
&nb
sp; ‘You know, don’t you?’ he said.
I didn’t answer.
‘William Chester is having an affair with my wife,’ he said. His voice was thick with pain and despair.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘How did you know?’ he asked.
‘Charlotte Miller worked it out,’ I said.
‘I asked you not to tell her about the ST,’ he said. ‘Does Meriwether know?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh dear,’ he said.
‘Let’s hope he doesn’t categorise it as a betrayal,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Meriwether attaches great importance to the attribute of loyalty.’
‘This will probably cost me my job,’ Bradshaw said.
‘Speak to your wife,’ I said. It was the only advice I could think of.
He nodded solemnly.
‘Forget about killing William Chester,’ I said. ‘It’s a bad idea and it won’t solve your problem.’
Stephen Bradshaw left. At the door, he thanked me. Very few people ever thanked me. I didn’t know what to say. He filled the gap.
‘Happy New Year,’ he said.
Of course, it was New Year’s Day. I’d forgotten.
It was only a minute or two later that my door buzzer sounded. After the way things had gone so far that day, I didn’t hold out much hope for this new visitor. She came in with her hands full. The brown paper bags seemed out of place against her stylish outfit.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked. ‘I’ve brought curry from that restaurant you like on Brick Lane.’
Charlotte Miller’s attractiveness increased greatly when accompanied by the waft of Indian take-out from Brick Lane.
‘You just missed Stephen Bradshaw,’ I said.
‘Yes, I know, I saw him leave. Did you tell him that you couldn’t do it?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said he thought he might lose his job.’
‘Um, yes, possibly—most likely a move to another position,’ she said.
I emptied the brown paper bags and covered the low table by the balcony doors. There was barely enough space left for Charlotte’s wine glass.