The American Broker

by Andrew Hill

  "I'll take the first one I can find," said Collette, "but I've still got to go to the flat. I'll do that now. Everything else is ready. I didn't really believe this would happen."

  "Good. You should have plenty of time but I don't know the road all the way. It looks OK on the map but it's pretty hairy countryside in places when you get this way. You'll get to see the Swiss, Italian and Slav Alps so that can't be bad for one day's drive. There aren't any obvious bottlenecks, though, and quite a bit of motorway. The Monza'll do two hundred quite happily . . . "

  "Two hundred!!"

  "Kilometres, silly. Speed limits usually about one twenty so keep your eyes open."

  "Some of us do, you know." said Collette referring to Chris's earlier spells off the road through speeding convictions in Britain.

  "OK. I know. But, seriously, it is one hell of a trip - and I don't suppose there's anyone you can bring along to help with the driving . ."

  "No. I've not seen anyone. Can I call you anywhere between now and tomorrow?"

  "I'm in a little town in the southern part of Yugoslavia at the moment - hang on . . ." Chris gestured to Rusan who nodded and wrote down a series of numbers which Chris read out to Collette. "Ivangrad," he added, "but we'll be away early in the morning." He immediately cursed himself for using we. Collette made no comment and Chris decided not to attempt any explanation. "Now, are you going to be OK?" he asked instead.

  "Yes, I am. Thank you, Chris. Thank you - I really want to do something. Will we catch Bob at the pass?"

  "I hope so. Look you'd better get going. Hey . . ."

  "What?" Collette sounded anxious.

  "See you tomorrow!" Chris laughed. Collette did too and they quietly said goodnight.

  Rusan made a remark to the barman and then bade farewell to Chris and Maria. They waved to him and followed a small, bald-headed man through a back door and then up a staircase. He babbled away in his own language. All they could do was nod and smile.

  The small room was basically furnished but it still took him several minutes to demonstrate its facilities. A cold tap shuddered on and pipework clanked in the distance. Curtains rasped closed in front of loosely joined shutters. Two bright white pillows adorned a modern double be of thin proportions, hovering inches above a linoleum floor. A folded blanket and sheet were stacked at the bottom of the bed and a pale wood stool sat contrasting utterly with a highly decorative but solid and chunky dresser. Large hand-carved knobs, embellished with a circle of golden pine, on the drawers were tugged with gusto to reveal some storage space. They looked at their own diminutive luggage and shook their heads. The man left with what they presume was "Goodnight" and Maria followed to go to the lavatory next door on the corridor.

  Chris stripped and quickly splashed himself with water then searched for a towel in the pile on the bed. Unfolding the sheet and blanket he laid them out and dived beneath them, sitting with his head resting on the wall and chest half-covered. He then jumped out again and rummaged through his case, producing a pen and some paper. He returned to the bed with them and took up a pensive pose as he heard the plumbing gush into action next door.

  The door opened and Maria entered, clutching her bag and clothes close to her outside a sage green towel that hung limply across the arms. Depositing her clothes on the stool, she turned to sit on the bed and Chris caught a glimpse of her brown thighs and the long thin cheeks of her bottom before she sat down. Her back was bare and her black hair swept over one shoulder. He could see the shape of her right breast and felt his own body tense as a flow of adrenalin ran through him.

  She turned and let the towel fall - her fresh and taught body clearly evident for one of those fractions of a second that seem to create an image that lasts a lifetime. Her long and slim legs were tucked quickly under the sheet, which she pulled up, partly covering her breasts but still leaving an enticing shadow between them. Her other hand supported her head as she turned sideways to face Chris, her hair now hanging down and spread across the pillow.

  "What are you writing?" she asked, her voice husky and slightly nervous.

  "Nothing," said Chris, truthfully, "I can't seem to concentrate."

  Maria smiled and made an attempt to apologise. "We can't, you know..”

  There were a hundred reasons that ran through Chris's mind. "We don't need to . . ." He started then leaned towards her and kissed her forehead. She threw her arms around him and held on tightly, wrapping herself closely against him. He began to move back, embarrassed at the obvious hardness she would feel against her legs. She pulled him back again, though, her hand firm against the bottom of his back, bringing him down so that every part of him seemed to lie against her brown, cool body. She opened her lips slightly and pressed them against his and turned the contact into a long, passionate kiss. Her finger nails cut into his back and Chris felt the pain of her frustration but also a strange relief at being able to hold her without having to convert the tender need felt by two people in a wilderness into pure sex just because they were there. Their embrace continued and they became familiar with each other's contours and passions. It was one of those rare moments when immense satisfaction was gained from just the contact and knowledge of what could be.

  "That song was beautiful, wasn't it," whispered Chris, some time later as they lay, quietly now, initial passions abated.

  "Mmm." murmured Maria.

  "Do you know what it was?"

  "They call it Karena," she said. "It's about a young girl who never gets a chance to say what she feels about someone. The song says she's sad inside but gay outside."

  Chris breathed deeply then sighed. "Yes, I can understand." he said to himself.

  Chapter L Set Up

  Collette turned into Bancroft Road and parked outside No. 48. Turning a key in the lock, she pushed open the front door and switched on the light. The room was tidy but signs that it had been left hurriedly remained. She fought back tears as she went upstairs to the bedroom. Clothes still lay on a chair and one of Chris's suits hung on the side of the wardrobe. Three old but much loved toys lay on the bed in apparent deep conversation and awaiting return of their owners. Collette picked up the brown bear and scratched the fur between his ears.

  "I don't know what happens next, folks," she said, "but I'll look after you if you get lonely. Now, just call for me, won't you." She replaced the bear and he fell flat on his nose in front of the other two. "Come on, young fellow. Up we come." He was placed in a rather more dignified position, resting against a fold in the cover. "There, that's better."

  She found the Opel key in the chess box as Chris had indicated. She sifted through the assortment of trinkets, keys and coins with one finger in an absent-minded way while gazing at a mirror to one side on the wall. Clutching the key she moved across towards her reflection and stroked the glass.

  The flash of light on a wall from a passing car made her turn quickly. She crossed to the window and looked out on to the yellow-lit street outside. A dark Audi had pulled up a little further down the road. Collette's eyes widened as she read the plate.

  "That's John's car!" she said to herself. "What's he doing here?" She continued to watch but nothing moved. She couldn't see who was in the car. She waited, but still nothing. Collecting her things and pulling the front door closed behind her, she walked over to her car, peering up the street towards John Tyler's car. She placed her bag and things in her car and was about to get in when she changed her mind. Closing the door and locking it, she went up the path to where the Audi was parked. She continued as if walking past but glanced back as she did so to look in the front window. It was Tyler. She went over towards his side of the car and he recognised her.

  "Collette. What in heaven's name are you doing here?" he cried.

  "I could ask you the same question!" she replied without smiling. "In fact, what are you doing here?"

  "Don't ask, Col. It's nothing to do with you. Look, just get away." Tyler was not his usual cheery self as Collette once knew him. There wa
s hardness in his gaze but the predominant expression was one of being drained - an appearance of having given up a lot that he didn't want to. He was no loser. He was a survivor and not fighting was not living by his reckoning. He seemed to have given up a fight of some sort, though. Collette could see this. She might once have unquestioningly heeded the order to go but she had gained a strength she had not known before and a determination not to do something just because someone else wanted her to.

  "John. I do care about what's going on. I want to know. I'm involved - deeper than I'd realised."

  "Christ, woman . . ." spluttered Tyler, "come on then. Get in. But don't start crying like you women do . . ." He could have chosen better words.

  "For God's sake, John! What's got hold of you? A very dear friend lives here and she's now lying in that morgue of a hospital. You're the one that seems to have got all hung up. I know it was tough for Sally, buy why have a go at me?" Collette was having difficulty controlling her emotions. So much was changing - in her life, in herself. Before the thought of shouting back at John Tyler would have fled her mind as soon as it arrived there. She had also assumed a more vital role in the affairs surrounding Chris than any casual observer would have anticipated and this was all the more marked by the fact that it was Chris's known best buddy that was on the receiving end of her fire.

  "OK, Col. OK. I never liked women around at times like this and never will. You can't change the old bugger that easily. You've changed a bit yourself, though, haven't you?" John produced one of those smiles that brought Collette back to a calmer state. She had changed. She knew that. She closed her eyes for a moment. A moment too long. A flash of Gill Chalmers leaving June Franklin's house appeared. Then her own face in the mirror at the flat. Then Gill's face. Then hers. Then it was herself she saw moving towards herself with tears in the other's eyes. The image came closer. There was such tenderness in those eyes. The image mingled with the darkness of a sudden shadow in daylight. The next picture was of a girl lying on a white hospital bed. White curtains, white walls, white flowers, white floors. A pink fluffy elephant was resting on the pillow. The tail of its bright red bow hung lazily across the linen next to the girl's face. Her eyes were closed and dark lashes rested on her smooth brown complexion. Dark, shiny lips rested, slightly apart, and the sharp edges of a few font teeth were just visible. The image began to fade and colours returned just as the face flickered with life and eyes opened then closed again. For an instant, Collette found herself watching not Gill, but herself.

  " . . . more like . . . hey . . . are you feeling all right?" Tyler's voice returned and Collette's eyes sprang open. She brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, moving her delicate fingers around the side of her eye and under it to hold gently the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, her head tilting forward as she did so. Slowly, she moved her arm down and stared straight ahead, not replying to Tyler's question. He pressed her for an answer.

  "I . . . I, er, guess so. Just tired, I suppose, John. Just tired." she said at last, softly, but unconvincingly.

  "Look, Col. You really ought to get away from here. Something's happening tonight. I got another call."

  "What call?"

  "Same as before that time I got caught here when that guy was run down. It's to do with Bob. I know it is. But what?" Tyler slapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Seriously, girl. You've got to go." His voice was earnest.

  Collette nodded. She had a long journey ahead of her and was not going to let Chris down at this stage. She knew that he'd certainly have asked Tyler had he not been stuck with facing the trouble here and that added an extra competitive determination. "Look, why don't you just go home, John. I don't know what this is going to produce. Another body on another roadside - someone we don't know and don't need to know . . ."

  "It's Chris they're after. Christ! For all I know he's up in that flat you've just left!"

  "John! Shut up!" shouted Collette.

  "OK. Where do you think he is? He's had long enough to get back and is hiding out behind someone somewhere . . ."

  "But Bob . . ."

  "Bugger Bob! If Chris had any sense he'll have let the old bastard find his own way home. We've got something tied up to tempt him back anyway. We don't need Chris and his fancy plans. We just need some peace and quiet. Just what the hell am I doing here? You're right, Col. What am I doing? If they want Chris why should I," he asked himself aloud, "go running around waiting in sidestreets to pick up his body?"

  "But I don't think he's anywhere near here." Collette found herself nearly saying that she knew he wasn't, but checked herself. So much had happened. She dared not trust anyone. Not even dear Tyler - particularly in the state he seemed to be in.

  "You wouldn't have the faintest idea where he is and an even fainter idea of Bob!" he retorted.

  "John, I don't know what's happening to you but I think you'll have to change your views soon. You go home. This is some kind of set up. Chris is miles away."

  Tyler looked at Collette. Her eyes were fierce and much against his inner feelings he found himself believing her. There was something in her eyes that convinced him she knew more than she would tell.

  "You know, don't you." he said, still looking at her.

  Collette nodded.

  "Why you?"

  She didn't respond. Instead she took a pen from her bag and, on a small scrap of paper, wrote a telephone number. Tyler went to take it. Collette flicked it away from his hand. "Going home?" she enquired.

  "Come on, Col . . ."

  "Are you going to pack this game in and go home?"

  "OK. What's it to you anyway?" Tyler relented.

  "I'm going away in the morning. I want to be with Chris, John. He's coming back, but in his own time. I want him to trust me and giving this number away before I leave might change his mind. It'll be in my car at Heathrow. Car park 1A - don't know which floor, you'll have to look - tomorrow from about 5:30. Once I'm on my way it won't matter but I don't want him changing his mind after you've had a go at him - and you can tell him I said so. There's nothing for you here. Forget those bastards, whoever they are. Please?"

  Tyler had to admit to feeling some degree of respect for the girl. Chris's number would be useful. He had little to tell him but he might, at least, learn a bit. He grinned in agreement. A good old Tyler grin. He started the car and looked round. Collette put the paper back in her bag and got out. She watched the Audi move away and walked back to her own car.

  The phone was ringing as Tyler put his key in the lock. He pushed open the door and snatched the before Sally managed to reach it. She stood at the foot of the stairs, watching him.

  "Don't listen to the girl, Tyler. I told you to be there. Alone. We'll be making an early morning delivery in Bancroft Road. This time it'll be someone you know - but no fancy tricks, Tyler. Oh, and by the way, keep a momento - I won't be calling again and I want you to have something to remember us by. No police, now, there's a smart fellow. That's if you want to stay smart."

  "What is this?" demanded Tyler. "Why me?"

  "Let's just say it'll make things nice and simple for the boys in blue. You know how they like things simple, Tyler. 'Ran out in front of you', didn't he, Tyler. You know the sort of thing. Don't leave any papers lying around, though. Keep it simple. Nice and simple."

  "I don't understand . . ."

  "You will. See you at five, Tyler. Same place. New time. Got it?"

  "What if I don't?"

  The phone clicked, then buzzed in his ear. Tyler swore and Sally went to put her arm around him but he angrily pushed her aside. "Sounds like someone's having another go at Chris." he said, his mind wandering back to Collette, the number and her refusal to let him take it then. "I don't know, Sal. Look, I've got to go out in a few hours. I can't sleep. Make me a coffee, will you."

  Sally was going to have a go at him but changed her mind. She went into the kitchen and noisily clattered the cutlery and slammed the lid on t
he kettle. "Are you in trouble, still, John? I mean, after all this, you would tell me, wouldn't you?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  "I don't know, for God's sake. But I can't risk anything. I've done nothing to these guys, whoever they are. They know that. They're using me." He deliberately made no mention of the likely outcome of his trip. "She's got enough to cope with already," he thought.

  Chapter LI Collette’s Drive

  The thought of calling Chris again was in Collette's mind but she resisted it. She was determined to go. Back home, she packed a case and wrapped herself in a duvet in front of the television. A gas fire flickered in the hearth, making her drowsy. Adjusting digits on her hi-fi system to 04:30 she slumped back and let sleep take over. The television picture turned to a frizzy grey nothingness. At four she woke and, blinking, struggled up and switched off the set. Now in complete darkness, she stood for a second, wondering whether to doze for another thirty minutes. "No." she instructed herself, "You're up now, girl. Stay that way." as she made her way to the bathroom.