by Tom Wood
“I said I’d like you to go now. Get out of my home.”
“I will have no choice but to move you if you don’t let me pass.”
She squared herself in front of him. “If you do, I’ll call the police. The real police.”
“Last chance,” Victor said. “Move.”
She glared at him. “Get. Out. Now.”
“It’s okay, Yvette,” a voice said from behind the closed door.
It opened and a young woman appeared.
“Hello, Gisele,” Victor said.
Chapter 27
At five-six she was a little shorter than Victor had expected. She had an average build with strong shoulders and hips. Her skin was almost white and dusted with freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her hair was dyed a darker red than her natural color, making her eyes all the bluer. They were large and the shape of almonds, but half-hidden by a pair of designer glasses. Though she didn’t have the height, in every other respect she looked like her mother. She tried to ignore it but he saw her stiffen at the sound of her name. She saw that he knew.
“If you don’t leave,” Yvette said, “I’m going to call the police.”
Victor ignored her. He kept his gaze locked with Gisele’s. Her eyes were beautiful, whites intense to the point of glowing and irises bluer than any ocean he’d ever seen. Her mother’s had been the same.
“Who are you?”
Yvette said, “He’s says he’s a policeman. But he lied. He’s a stinking journo.”
“No, he’s not,” Gisele said.
“No, I’m not,” Victor agreed. “I’m here because your father sent me.”
“Stepfather,” Gisele corrected. Norimov had been right. She did hate him.
He nodded to concede his mistake. “I don’t have time to explain. It’s important that you come with me.”
She shook her head. Once. “No chance.”
That caught him off guard. He hadn’t considered that she would be an unwilling player. But it made sense. She was smart, educated, and she hated Norimov. Victor felt foolish for thinking she would behave otherwise. He was as much a stranger to her as she was to him.
“Your stepfather is concerned for your safety.”
“Then maybe he should have chosen a less dangerous way to earn a living.”
“He loves you,” Victor said.
She laughed. He didn’t know whether that was because she considered such a thing funny or because of the clumsy way he delivered it. He was unused to saying such things.
“What did you say your name was?”
Again, Yvette answered for him: “Blake, unless he’s lying about that too.”
“If he works for my stepdad, then everything he told you was a lie.”
Victor said, “You can call me Vasily, if you like.”
“Okay, Vasily. My stepdad sent you. Great. Now fuck off.”
“Seconded,” Yvette added.
“I don’t want to scare you, Gisele. But I don’t know how else to say this: you’re in a lot of danger. I’m here to protect you. But you have to come with me.”
She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded in front of her chest in a show of defiance. “I’m going nowhere.”
“Your life is at risk.”
The blue eyes widened. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think a week ago something happened that scared you and you’ve been staying here ever since. Am I right?”
Yvette said, “You shouldn’t trust him.”
She stood close to him, closer than he usually allowed people to get, but he saw that she did this out of protectiveness of Gisele—standing between him and her—and so made no move to reposition himself or her.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.” She stared at Victor, hands on her hip bones. “You’ll forgive me if I have an issue taking your word for that, seeing as I’ve known you for two whole seconds.”
“I understand that. I do. I can imagine how all this sounds to you. I’m a stranger, but I’m an old friend of your father’s. He sent me because there are people who are seeking to do him harm. And you, by association.”
She thought about this for a moment. “If you and my . . . if you and Alek are old friends, how come I’ve never met you?”
“That’s a good question. I suppose I should have said we were business associates instead of friends.”
“Ah,” she said, “so you’re a gangster too. Now I really don’t trust you.”
“Gangster?” Yvette said, eyes wide.
“I’m not a gangster.”
Gisele said, “If you know Alek, then you’re a criminal. Feel free to deny it, if you like.”
“That is true enough,” Victor said. “I am a criminal. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are in danger and I’m here to keep you safe.”
“Why am I in danger?”
“Perhaps we can sit down in the lounge and talk this through,” he suggested.
“I’m fine where I am,” Gisele said. She settled against the doorframe as though it was the most comfortable place in the flat.
Yvette added, “There’s no point sitting down. You’ll be going soon. Alone.”
“Okay,” Victor said. “You’re in danger because your stepfather has enemies. We don’t yet know who they are, but they’re targeting you by virtue of your relationship to him.”
“I have no relationship with him. I’ve never had a relationship with him.”
“That doesn’t matter to them. What matters is your stepfather loves you and they can get to him by getting to you. He believes they’ll try to use you as leverage against him. I’m here to stop them doing that.”
“What do you mean, use me as leverage?”
“They’ll kidnap you first and use you to draw out your stepfather.”
“And then?” Gisele said, a challenge in her voice.
There was no point in lying. Hiding the truth wasn’t going to convince her to trust him. He said, “They’ll kill you.”
He saw the defiance falter in her expression as whatever anger toward Norimov and distrust of Victor she had was replaced by fear. He didn’t like scaring her, but there was no other way of making her understand the danger she was in. He saw that she believed him.
Yvette said, “Gisele, we must call DCI Crawley. He has to know about this.”
“No,” Gisele said while still looking at Victor. “Not yet. Not until I know more.”
“But you need—”
“I don’t need to do anything, Yvette. I don’t want anyone knowing about Alek and his bullshit. It’s taken a long time to distance myself from all that. The moment it gets out that I’m the stepdaughter of a Russian mob boss my career is over before it’s even begun. I’m not letting that happen until I absolutely have to. God, I fucking hate him for putting me through this shit again.” She exhaled to calm herself down. Then to Victor she said, “How am I supposed to trust you? Why are you here to protect me, and not those juicers he hangs around with?”
“I don’t expect you to. You shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t trust anyone you’ve just met, even me. But I am here to help and I suppose we can say your stepfather trusts me to protect you more than he does his men.”
“So, what? You’re like a professional bodyguard or something?”
“Let’s say that I understand how an enemy might come after you and how to stop them.”
She rolled her eyes. “This is such bullshit.”
“I’m not going to argue. The point is there are dangerous people who want to do you harm. And they will, unless I stop them. I can’t do that unless you agree to do as I say. Okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. I don’t know who you are. All I have to go on is what you’re telling me. Which isn’t a lot. For all I know you’re one of Alek’s enemies, trying to trick me.”
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“How can I prove myself to you?”
She considered for a moment. “Are you carrying a gun?”
He nodded.
“Oh, my God,” Yvette breathed. “You brought a gun into my home? How dare you.”
Gisele said, “Give it to me.”
It was a stupid mistake to have made, to ask her how he could prove himself. She had her mother’s power to make him trip over his words and fail to think before speaking.
“I can’t do that,” he said.
Gisele wasn’t surprised by his answer. “Then get lost. Go back to Alek and tell him that I wouldn’t go with you. While you’re at it, tell him I said I hate him.”
“Please,” Victor said. “If I worked out that you’re here, then it’s only a matter of time until your stepfather’s enemies do the same. They won’t ask you to come with them. They’ll just take you. I might not be around to stop them.”
“Holy shit. You killed those three guys in my flat?”
He didn’t react but he was surprised how well she could read him. Maybe it was a family trait.
“Gisele, please. We don’t have time for this.”
“I’m calling the police,” Yvette announced, and strode into the lounge, where Victor remembered a landline sat.
He didn’t try to stop her. He could render her unconscious in seconds, but then Gisele would never trust him. He had to leave Yvette alone. He had to convince Gisele to come with him before the call connected and local units were dispatched. But there was no time left.
He drew the handgun. Gisele gasped and Yvette turned in response and screamed.
Victor racked the slide to eject the chambered round, caught it in his other hand, and released the magazine. He held out the weapon by the muzzle.
“Okay,” he said. “You win. Take the gun.”
She stared at it. “It’s real, isn’t it? I know. I’ve shot a few.”
“You have?” Yvette asked, repelled.
Gisele shrugged. “Back in Russia. Alek’s idea of quality time with me. No wonder I’m so fucked up.” She snatched it out of his hand. “Please put the phone down. Everything’s cool.”
Her voice was quiet and soft but carried enormous strength and persuasiveness. Yvette paused, then nodded. She replaced the handset.
“I still want him out of this flat.”
“Me too,” Gisele said. “He’ll be gone in a minute. Won’t you?”
“Only if you’re with me.”
She turned the gun over in her hands. She was examining it, maybe comparing it to those she had fired in the past. He could tell she was equally fascinated and appalled by it. “Why are you so keen to be my bodyguard? You don’t know me. I’ve never even set eyes on you before today.”
“I know your father.”
“But you said you’re not his friend. So why are you helping him?”
“Okay,” Victor said. “Your father asked me to help you, but I didn’t say yes because I used to work with him. I agreed because I used to know your mother when I worked with your father. She was a nice woman.”
Gisele swallowed. “She’s been dead for years.”
He nodded. “I know. It was a long time ago when we knew each other. I liked her. She was always nice to me. If she needed my help, I would help.”
Gisele studied him, her eyes searching his for the truth—for something to believe in. She was still staring when she said, “What color were her eyes?”
He didn’t blink. “Blue, just like yours.”
“Easy enough to find out. How tall was she?”
“Taller than you are. Five eight and a half. You must have your biological father’s height.”
“Left or right handed?”
“Left. But right-eye dominant.”
“I didn’t know that part.” She paused, frowning. “You could be lying and I wouldn’t know.”
“I’m not lying. I couldn’t have known that you didn’t know that information.”
“Then you know more about my dead mother than I do. Thanks for pointing that out.”
“I taught her how to use a bow and arrow. That’s how I know.”
He watched Gisele’s eyes angle to look again at the gun in her hand. She said, “You told me if she wanted your help you would say yes, but she’s dead. She’s not asking you to help me.”
Victor nodded. “If she were alive now and she asked me to protect you, I wouldn’t hesitate. She isn’t alive to ask me, but that doesn’t change my answer.”
Gisele took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose. She held his gaze with her blue eyes full of strength and intelligence. He felt as if he were looking back in time.
“Okay,” she said, eventually. “I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t do it,” Yvette said. “You can’t possibly believe him.” Her own eyes were large and accusing, gaze flicking between Victor and Gisele.
Gisele’s eyes never left Victor’s. “I grew up surrounded by liars. Now I work in a profession defined by lies. I know liars. He doesn’t sound like one to me.”
“Don’t be so naive, dear,” Yvette added. “This one is bad news.”
Gisele said, “Maybe. But I have my phone. I’ll call you later and let you know I’m okay.”
Yvette was aghast. She frowned. “If he hasn’t murdered you by then.”
Gisele ignored her. She held the gun out to Victor. He took it.
“You’ve made the right choice,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 28
Gisele sat in the passenger’s seat of the man’s car and tried to stop herself from becoming overwhelmed by what was happening. She was voluntarily in a car with a strange man who claimed to have been sent by her father because his enemies were after her. Enemies who had tried to kidnap her a week ago. It was crazy. It was madness. This kind of thing didn’t happen to people like her.
“Holy fucking shit,” she said, following a big exhale.
She saw the man who clearly wasn’t named Vasily frown. He didn’t speak, however. His gaze never left the road ahead. She didn’t like the silence. It gave her too much time to think about how stupid she was being. He had a gun.
A deep breath calmed her down a little. She had believed him before. There was no reason to reverse her opinions just yet.
When it became obvious he wasn’t going to speak for the entire journey unless spoken to, she said, “I guess we should get to know one another.”
He didn’t look at her. “That’s not necessary.”
“Not necessary? Are you joking?”
“I don’t make jokes.”
“Good to know, Mr. Serious, but I’m going to go ahead and disagree with you on that whole ‘necessary’ thing. If you’re going to be my bodyguard, then it makes sense to know you better, and vice versa.”
The lights changed and he accelerated. “I’m not a bodyguard.”
“Okay,” she said. “But—whatever—you asked me to trust you, and I’ve taken a huge risk getting into a car with you. You don’t want me to regret my actions already, do you?”
He didn’t respond.
She said, “Let me put it another way: if you want me to come with you and stay with you, then I need to feel comfortable with you, and right now you’re not making me feel very comfortable. I’m about thirty seconds away from digging my nails into your eyeballs and calling the police.”
That made him look at her. She saw that he understood she was not joking. He hesitated, not sure how to respond.
“I’m down to about twenty-three seconds,” she said.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get to know one another, if you like.”
“I’d like you to want to too.”
“Fine,” he said again. “I do. Tell me about yourself.”
“That’s better. That’s much bet
ter. Not so hard to be friendly, is it?” She didn’t wait for an answer because she knew she would probably be waiting a while. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t a talker. “You know a bit about me already, yeah? But did you know I can touch the end of my nose with the tip of my tongue?”
That made him look at her, eyebrow raised. She laughed at his reaction.
“Not even a hint of a smile? Man, you’re cold. I can’t really,” she admitted. “Just trying to take the edge off what is an extremely stressful situation.”
“This is not exactly the time for humor, Gisele.”
“So you’re saying there is a time for humor?”
He glanced at her. She took this as his way of saying yes. She said, “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Kids?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No,” he said for the third time.
She exhaled. “Loving the one-word answers. Really getting to know you. Let me try changing tactics. How old are you?”
“I’ll keep that to myself.”
“Ah, like that, is it? Youth fading, old age creeping up on you? You’re over thirty, right? What are you, nearly forty?”
He looked at her.
She smiled. “Just joking. A bit. Where do you live?”
“I move around a lot.”
“So do I. I walk, run, ride a bike, take the bus. That’s not an answer. Where are you from? I don’t think you’re Russian, but your accent is hard to place.”
“That’s the idea.”
“So, where were you born?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“Exactly what I said. I don’t know where I was born.”
“What does it say on your birth certificate?”
“I didn’t have one.”
“What does it say on your passport?”
“I have lots of passports.”
“Okay, fine. What does it say on your very first passport?”
“Like my age, I’ll keep that to myself.”
She rolled her eyes. “I knew you were going to say that.”