by Helen Bright
Kolya put his arms around me and held me tightly. I knew Oliver was speaking to PC Winters but I couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about due to my sobbing. The only words I did catch were from PC Foster, who wanted to wait until I’d calmed down enough to carry on.
I shook my head and insisted we get this over with as soon as possible. I wanted to be where I felt safe, and it wasn’t anywhere near Fellbrook Police Station.
“Tess, I’m not defending anyone. I just want you to let go of some of your animosity towards the staff at The Willows, and concentrate on everything else that was happening in the weeks leading up to Sarah’s disappearance. I want to know everything she told you about the men she was meeting with. Did she mention what type of cars they drove? Where they would take her? If she knew where they lived? I need you to give me a full description of each of these men. What colour hair did they have? How did they style it? Did they wear jewellery or have tattoos? I also need you to tell me everything she did with them—willingly or not. I know it’s going over everything again, but I need to hear it from you when you are not on the defensive, like you were with Detective Constables Dickson and Twain. I want to know everything, even if you think it’s not that important to the case. Let us decide what we can use to help catch those who hurt Sarah. Start from the very beginning and leave nothing out. Use your own words, as if you were speaking with a friend, telling them what you know. I know your life has changed so much over the last few months, and you’re married now. But forget about that and be who you were back then. Tell me your hopes and fears for Sarah during that time. And I want to know everything about the day you ran away. What made you make that decision?”
“I’ve already told your colleagues all this. And anyway, there are photos of all the men on Sarah’s phone. You could just get them from there,” I told her, my voice raised in frustration.
“We don’t have Sarah’s phone, Tess. She didn’t have any possessions with her when she was found,” PC Winters stated before glancing at PC Foster.
“Do you happen to know Sarah’s mobile number?” PC Foster asked. Already her pen was poised on the paper waiting for my reply. Kolya squeezed my hand in reassurance but when I looked at him he gave the slightest shake of his head, his ice-blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. I was confused. I thought the police had Sarah’s phone. Or, at least, her sim card, along with the signed confession from Farid Ali.
I turned back to PC Foster and told her no, I never had a phone at The Willows, so there was no need for me to have her number. But Beth had it. I also told her about the fight Beth and I had the day I ran away. I then proceeded to tell her everything she’d requested, right from the time we first met Tariq when he worked at the local youth club. Both she and PC Winters listened attentively, rarely stopping and interrupting as Dickhead and Twatface had done. What’s more, their expressions remained neutral or, when warranted, understanding. They didn’t express any scorn or judgement or disbelief.
Two and a half hours after we first entered the station, we finally got up to leave. PC Foster informed us they would be in touch as soon as they had any leads. They gave me a number to call in case I remembered anything else, and promised they’d do everything in their power to see that those responsible for Sarah’s death would be brought before the courts.
Both Kolya and I thanked them, along with Oliver, and I swear I saw tears in PC Foster’s eyes when she said she was happy to see me safe and well—after being missing for so long.
When we stepped out of the station into the bright sunlight, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, though I also felt drained. Trying to remember what details I had to keep hidden from the police was so tiring. A number of times I had to stop and take a deep breath before I revealed anything that could incriminate Kolya. He helped with that, of course. If I was about to say anything that could lead to further questioning, he would bring my hand to his lips and kiss my fingers or gently massage the nape of my neck. A loving gesture from husband to wife in a distressing moment was all the officers could see. Not the warning it really was.
10
Kolya
Within an hour of us landing at our home in Oxford, I was back in the air and on my way to London. I did have business in the capital but that wasn’t until tomorrow. I could have stayed the night with my wife but after this morning, touching my young bride felt even more wrong than it had previously. Though I still desired her desperately.
When she’d stood there this morning blushing with embarrassment, trying to hide the fact that she had bled through her nightwear onto the sheets, I saw even more clearly how young and vulnerable she looked. Due to her just waking up, her skin was clear of make-up; her teddy bear pyjamas only adding to her teenage appearance. But her actions... The way she’d wrung her hands together with her eyes downcast, unable to meet my gaze; her embarrassment growing when I’d offered to soak the bloodstained clothing. The fact she was so ill at ease with something so natural. It made me stop and consider how she would feel when I finally took her virginity. Would she be as upset if she bled then? When the evidence of our lovemaking left her body, would it embarrass her so much she would once more hang her head in shame?
If this morning had taught me anything, it was that Tess wasn’t ready for a sexual relationship—something I had known all along. This knowledge was only reinforced during our time at the police station. The way she became so defensive when PC Foster told her the truth about the social workers in charge at The Willows. It was obviously something she hadn’t wanted to hear, and she’d reacted in much the same way as James used to whenever I’d pointed out that he was wrong.
Yet knowing all this—seeing with my own eyes why my relationship with Tess was so wrong—I still wanted her. My hunger for her had not waned; my love for her increasing with each passing day. What kind of monster did that make me?
I had never desired younger women the way some of my business associates have. I know a number of middle-aged men who seem to think having a young woman on their arm, or in their bed, shows they still have the same virility they had in their youth. They use those women as a physical statement, as if to show they have what it takes to stay on top in our competitive, egotistical business arena. An additional weapon to keep them in the game, if you will.
When you deal in arms, you deal in power, and nothing makes a man feel more powerful than bringing a woman to orgasm. Often, men seem to think that proving their sexual prowess and stamina with a woman much younger than themselves makes them some sort of champion. I have never understood that mindset. Age is just a number—for both men and women. It should have no bearing on how much pleasure you feel when you take the time to know your lover’s body and identify what they need to take them over the edge. Helping a woman achieve an intensely satisfying climax is a challenge all men should rise to, but keeping the woman you commit your life to happy and sexually satisfied for the rest of your days…that’s where only those worthy of her commitment succeed.
My father says you can judge a man’s loyalty by the way he treats his wife. If he isn’t faithful and his wife is unhappy, you can do business with him, but should never trust him. If he finds it so easy to betray the woman who takes his name and bears his children, he will have no qualms about betraying you. For all the terrible crimes my father and his organisation have committed over the years, in this, I feel, he knows what he is talking about.
I saw firsthand the devastation that infidelity in a marriage can bring. Yannis was a wreck when his wife left him for his father. They had been having an affair for so long and the betrayal broke something inside my friend. He was a changed man after that, even with those close to him, including me. James was the only one to make him smile. He brought him out of the depressive, angry, vengeful state he’d been in since he’d discovered their affair. Although, after the explosion on his father’s yacht, he withdrew once again for a while.
“Boss, Omari just called to let us know that
Prince Amir will be arriving with eight guards at one thirty tomorrow afternoon. Two of the guards will stay in the lobby as per protocol, while the rest will accompany the prince to your suite. Greta has arranged the usual with regards to food and drinks,” Jonesy confirmed.
I nodded my approval.
“Are we still heading to Berlin tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Yes. As soon as the prince leaves I want to be in the air. I don’t expect the meeting to last much longer than three hours. I thought we could request a flight time of around six thirty, so we will need to take the helicopter instead of driving. The last time we attempted to get to Heathrow by road during rush hour was a disaster.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jonesy said with a groan. “The only thing worse than driving through London in rush hour traffic is driving through New York during rush hour traffic. I don’t know how taxi drivers deal with the stress.”
I once again nodded my agreement. Before I could comment, my phone screen lit, indicating an incoming call.
“Gustav, how are you? Please tell me you have managed to set up a meeting with Harel.”
“Kolya, he’s unreachable. My Israeli contacts confirmed that Mossad will block any attempt to reveal his whereabouts, and confirmed that Eitan Harel no longer poses any threat to your safety.” Gustav sighed then added, “I can understand the need to speak with him regarding the attempt on your life, but I feel it is my duty as your friend, as well as advisor on these matters, to tell you to think very carefully about how you respond.”
“I assume you told them that we only want to find out who hired him, not to get him arrested?” I queried.
“Of course, but you knew he wouldn’t give up that information, Kolya.”
“There are many ways to gain information, Gustav,” I replied. My mind had conjured up a number of scenarios in which I could make the men involved in the shooting suffer.
“Kolya, I can understand your anger. But going up against Mossad would be suicide.”
“Gustav, letting my attempted assassination go unchecked is suicide. Fuck Mossad. If the Israelis want to dig their heels in over this, then so will I. Any bids they have for weaponry are off the table until I meet with Eitan Harel. That includes the deal I was about to agree on with regards to the defensive radar missile system.”
Gustav made a whistling sound. “The Americans won’t be happy about that.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” I informed him.
“I’ll let them know,” he replied. “I wonder how long it will take Caroline Dawson to get in touch.”
“Make her aware I won’t appreciate being contacted directly about this. Let her stew awhile. I’m sure she already knows about my meeting with the Saudis tomorrow. It won’t hurt to mention it, either way. If she thinks there is another major player interested in making a deal for the system, that might be the incentive she needs to plead our cause.”
Caroline Dawson—the ex-CIA security operative, now a European-based U.S. Defence attaché—will do her best to keep the deal on the table, while defending the Israeli stance on this. She thinks we have a good working relationship because I treat her position with the respect it deserves. I know a number of men that don’t. Internationally, weaponry and defence is, and has always been, a male-dominated business, and many would like to keep it that way. They think women are too soft, too caring... Always in support of the underdog when, in essence, money is often the deciding factor in a bid for arms. They could not be more wrong in Caroline Dawson’s case. Which is probably why the U.S. government gave her that role. They could have created the position just for her.
No one who has ever had dealings with Caroline Dawson would say she was soft. She is an aggressively intelligent woman who spent many years working her way up through the CIA into central government. She’s a woman who prides herself on getting the job done and makes it her business to know who’s who in the world of weaponry and defence. She comes across as friendly and on your side. But make no mistake, she is all about her country and its political agendas. Once CIA, always CIA. It’s in her blood.
I made the mistake of having sex with her. Twice. Not my best decision, either time. But she’s an attractive, powerful woman who knows how to turn on the charm, and during the first couple of European functions she attended in her new government position, we ended up back at her hotel. Caroline prefers to be sexually dominant, which doesn’t really work for me. I should have said no the second time she invited me back, I knew that. But loneliness often means we make choices we later regret. Caroline seems to think that because we fucked she has some sway over me.
She could not be more wrong.
I am a man who listens to advice given by those I respect, but ultimately, any decision I make regarding any aspect of my life is my own. It has to be for someone in my position.
“Have you decided which guards will accompany you if the Israelis give in to your demands?” Gustav asked. I could hear the feint clicks of a keypad. No doubt he was already putting a logistical plan in motion.
“Jonesy, Nate, Lucas, Rashid, and Donovan,” I informed him.
“I’ll get things in motion on my end. I’ll have a driver waiting when you land. There will be a backup vehicle as per the usual protocol. I assume you will be staying at the hotel?” he queried.
“Yes, though I would be thrilled if you and your beautiful wife would join me for dinner. How is Erika?”
“She is well, but very tired. She doesn’t seem to be managing this pregnancy as well as the last three. She’s been quite anaemic and has suffered many headaches.”
“No wonder she is tired, Gustav. She manages her own company, has three children under ten, and is due to give birth to another in a couple of months.”
“I know, that’s why I have arranged for Mari, our part-time nanny, to work more hours. Erika wasn’t happy about it at first, but she likes and trusts the woman, and they have become great friends over the years. I know there will be no more babies for us after this one is born. How about you, Kolya? Do you plan on having more children now that you are married?”
“It is early days for us, Gustav. Tess will probably want to live a little before she becomes a mother.”
In truth, I hadn’t really thought about another child until my father mentioned it. James is his only grandchild. Only one of my brothers is married, but Aleksei and his wife had problems conceiving. After many failed attempts at IVF they decided to give up. My eldest brother has never been married, much to my father’s annoyance.
“Are you planning on having a honeymoon? I know you mentioned the issues Tess has been having with the police, and now this business with Eitan Harel, but I thought you would want to whisk your wife away to the Caribbean and spend some quality time with her. It can’t be easy being apart from each other so soon after your marriage.”
Gustav was right. It wasn’t going to be easy being apart from Tess. It hasn’t been since the day we met. But then, neither was it easy to be around her without making love to her. I am damned either way.
“We will make time soon. Perhaps we will combine Tess’s birthday celebrations with an extended honeymoon. Her birthday is just a month away; we don’t have long to wait.”
Just over a month before I can finally claim my wife in the most intimate way possible. Five weeks of longing that I know will increase with each passing day. To be near her would be torture. My idea to spend as little time as possible with her was the right decision. It didn’t mean I couldn’t speak to her or see her. Technology would cover that.
“Kolya, I have to go. I need to get in touch with my Israeli contact. I will let you know their response as soon as I receive it.”
“Thank you, Gustav. Give my regards to Erika and say hello to the children from me.”
“I will. See you tomorrow evening at the hotel. And, Kolya, don’t be surprised if Caroline Dawson finds you.”
11
Kolya
The hotel in Berlin had und
ergone refurbishment in the last six months, yet it still kept the period features Catherine’s father had adored. He’d bought the hotel a month before the fall of the Berlin Wall, and had restored many of its original architectural features, bringing it back to its former glory. James Lassiter was a man who had the foresight to know what would appeal to future discerning travellers.
Flanked by my security team, I made my way through the foyer towards the private elevator which would take me up to the penthouse suite. I kept the penthouse suite for myself in each of the hotels. The rooms were secure and my team could sweep for bugs and other tracing equipment on a regular basis. It gave me peace of mind during my travels and reassured my various business contacts, too. They knew that anything we spoke about would not be heard elsewhere.
Just before I reached the elevator, my team and I were approached by a familiar blonde who wore a friendly, yet determined look.
“Kolya, I need to speak with you immediately. People aren’t happy with the threats you made regarding a recent deal.”
“Miss Dawson, what a pleasant surprise,” I replied, forcing a smile, though I did not break my stride.
“Cut the crap, Kolya. You knew I would be here, just like you know you can’t pull out of the d—”
“Caroline, you of all people should know that I don’t respond well to being told what I can or cannot do. Despite how well negotiations were going, at the end of the day, I have to make a decision I am happy with, and at present, I find that I am not happy with the bid I received nor the people that offered it.”
Caroline demanded that we sit down and discuss the situation as I stepped into the elevator. She tried to follow me but was stopped by Jonesy, who informed her she should take a step back. Before the elevator doors closed, Caroline requested that we meet to discuss my “unreasonable behaviour.”