Hiding the Past

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Hiding the Past Page 7

by Sofia Grey


  Maria headed back toward the office, and Juli examined the toy cat.

  “This is sweet,” she said. “Odd, though. I’ve never known Maria to buy this sort of thing before.”

  Jack shrugged. “We’d better get back. Our guest is going to be waking up soon.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the tube station. Juli wanted to think of things other than Yanni and Papa.

  When Jack asked how long she’d known Maria, she was happy to answer.

  “I met her eighteen months ago. She’d just joined TM-Tech, and she was attending a seminar I was leading. She came over to chat afterwards, and we hit it off.” She smiled to herself. “She’s like dynamite, so sparky and full of life. I remember in the hotel bar afterward, we drank the guys under the table. And then went clubbing.” They were fun memories. “Anyway, we keep in touch mainly by email, and meet up for coffees and drinks if we’re ever in the same city. I really like her. She’s so loyal—always has your back.” She squeezed Jack’s hand. “Was her brother like her?”

  They’d reached the station. The escalators were busy in the lunchtime rush, and Jack didn’t answer until they made the platform. “Rico was loyal. As steadfast as they come. Quieter than Maria. He was more serious, more aloof, but that’s not the right word. He walked his own path, as the Indians would say, but if you chose to walk the same one, he’d make you welcome. Me, him and Tanner, we were unstoppable together. I miss him.”

  “What would he do now? In this situation?”

  “He’d save your dad and get rid of the bad guys.” Jack paused. “That’s what we’re gonna do. Trust me, babe.”

  She wanted to believe him. He made it sound easy.

  Jack snagged two seats on the train. A young punk rocker aimed for one of them, but he backed off when Jack glared.

  It made Juli smile. “How well do you know Maria? How much did you see her?”

  “I haven’t seen her since Rico’s funeral. But back in the day, we all hung out at each other’s places, went to family parties, and all that. I told you Rico was dating Sylvie, before she met Alex? That’s how Tanner and I ended up as bodyguards on the New Zealand tour. Rico called us in, to provide security services, and now Alex and Sylvie have us on speed-dial.”

  “And so do many other celebrities. We’re married now. You don’t need to name drop, to get my attention.”

  As joking went, it was a feeble attempt, but Juli needed the distraction. All too soon, she’d have to talk to Yanni again.

  Chapter Six

  Juli couldn’t miss Tanner’s grim expression when they returned to Charlie’s apartment.

  “Yanni’s running a fever,” he said. “It looks like he’s developed an infection. I gave him antibiotics, but I’m not sure yet if they’re strong enough.”

  “Shit.” Jack gazed out of the window for a moment. “We have the option to use Charlie’s doctor again.”

  “Yeah,” Tanner nodded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He looked at Juli. “He’s awake, if you wanna take him something to eat. There’s soup in the kitchen, and you can give him his painkillers. Are you up to doing this?”

  Juli nodded. She had to do this, no matter how much of a head fuck it might be. She shrugged out of her jacket and dropped it with her handbag on the sofa. The little bean cat tumbled out, and she scooped it up and sat it on the windowsill. “Let’s get started.”

  Jack held the door open. Her hands were filled with the tray of soup, bread, a bottle of water, and a paper cup containing two small white tablets. Tanner had taken Yanni to the bathroom and then checked the wound, and there was no sign of Aiden.

  The change in Yanni’s appearance in one day was shocking. His forehead gleamed with a slick of perspiration, yet he shivered beneath his quilt, goose pimples visible on his handcuffed bare arm.

  When the door closed behind her, Yanni gave her a shaky smile. “Good morning, Juli. Is there any news of Yves today?”

  She placed the tray on the chest of drawers, while she braced herself to answer his question. Taking a deep breath, she pulled a chair alongside the bed. She spoke softly, her gaze downcast. “He didn’t make it.”

  Would he believe her?

  “No. My God.” Yanni reached for her with his free hand and closed his fingers around her curled fist.

  She looked up to see his shocked face, his eyes searching hers.

  “I’m so sorry, Juli. I thought...” He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “I thought there was more time. Christ. If I’d told you as soon as I saw you, the extra few hours could have made the difference.” He leaned back against his pillows, a violent bout of shivering taking over. His hand was clammy. Tanner mentioned antibiotics, but if they didn’t start working soon, Yanni would become very ill.

  Juli forced an awkward and fleeting smile. “I’ve got painkillers for you. They should help with your fever too.” When he released her hand, she shook the tablets into his palm and watched him swallow them with a gulp of the bottled water.

  He lay back and stared at her, his expression unreadable. “How come you’ve been sent to feed me?”

  She held his gaze and shrugged in what she hoped was a casual manner. “The others are busy. I volunteered. I wanted something to do. I also wanted to talk about my father. With you.”

  Yanni tried, awkwardly, to rearrange the pillows so he could sit more upright. It was visibly difficult, with one hand restrained.

  “Would you like help with that?”

  His mouth twisted, then he shrugged with one shoulder. “Thank you.” He leaned forward.

  Juli pulled together the pillows and stacked them neatly against the wooden headboard, making a comfortable position for him. She felt the heat pouring off his body through his T-shirt, even while he shivered, and she worried afresh.

  He winced as he lay back. “Thank you,” he whispered. His eyes were closed, the damp, sweaty hair falling onto his forehead. “I have an infection. I think the knife was dirty. Probably deliberately so.”

  Juli stared helplessly. What could she say to that? She fell back onto the idea of food. “Would you like some soup?”

  “A little. But I may need your help to eat, if you don’t mind.”

  This humble, weakened Yanni was unfamiliar.

  Juli had no idea if the trembling in his arm was genuine or a ruse to get her to feed him, but she ended up spooning the soup into his mouth. After half a bowl, he claimed to be full and wanted only the water bottle that sat beside him.

  She removed the food and settled in the chair once more. “Can we talk now?”

  He looked at her, gaze flicking across her face and body, down to her hands, tangled in her lap. “What can I tell you?” he asked.

  There were lots of questions. Where to begin? “How did you meet Papa? How well did you know him? Or was that a line you were spinning me?”

  He flinched under her direct question and reached for her hand again.

  God help her, she let him take it, while mentally apologising to Jack. Then again, Jack wanted her to gain Yanni’s trust, to get him to talk to her. This might be the only way to do that.

  “I was in London anyway and had an afternoon free,” said Yanni, his voice low and scratchy. “I read a feature in the business section of the newspaper, talking about a series of seminars presented by Yves Pascal. When I checked the details and found he was the same Yves Pascal who taught electronics at the University of Manchester, I guessed he might be your father. I went along to his lectures. They were good.” He smiled briefly. “He was a talented teacher, and he had the ability to explain complex theorems in layman’s language—something you’re good at too, Juli. And the subject matter interested me.” His voice became hoarse. He coughed before continuing. “I offered to buy him coffee, and we started our association.” His gaze raked her face. She kept her expression neutral.

  “We met three—no, four—times, at Starbucks by the National Gallery. He particularly liked their espresso. Since he was on a diet, he neve
r ate there.”

  There was another long pause. When he spoke next, his voice was gentle. “I’m guessing they asked you to do this, to verify that I really met Yves? Give you proof?”

  She ducked her head so that she didn’t need to reply.

  Yanni squeezed her hand and lay back again, closing his eyes. “Yves drank double espresso with two sachets of sweetener. His favourite alcoholic drink was Calvados, and he told me his collection ran to over thirty different labels. He loved to watch Monty Python, even though he didn’t really get all the jokes. He was looking forward to seeing you at Christmas. He planned to spend the holidays with you and your new husband. Your parents went on a tour of the Greek islands last summer, and they had a good holiday, but he became bored of feta cheese with everything. What else…?” Yanni thought for a moment. “He told me how proud he was of his daughter. How having children was the most important thing anyone could do. And he said he’d commissioned a special piece of jewellery for your mother’s birthday—a pendant made to his own design.” His voice trailed away, and he yawned.

  “I liked him very much. And I liked the opportunity to meet him. It made me feel closer to you,” he said.

  *

  Jack recognised the sense behind Aiden’s plan, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. When Juli emerged from Yanni’s bedroom, her face tight and drawn, Jack pulled her straight into his arms. He would not let this bastard come between them again.

  “He’s sleeping now.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt. “His fever is bad, Jack.”

  Part of him felt pleased. Surely she didn’t expect Jack to be sympathetic towards Yanni? He guided her to a chair and kissed her briefly. “Stay here. I’ll get you a coffee, and then we’ll debrief.”

  She followed him into the kitchen anyway, so they gathered around the breakfast bar again.

  “What can you tell us, Juli?” Aiden asked.

  She wrapped her fingers around the mug and took a sip. It must have been hotter than she expected, because she made a little moue of surprise. She cleared her throat. “He definitely met Papa. I’m confident about that, from the details he mentioned. He couldn’t know them otherwise.” She stared into the mug. “He says they met four times. It’s possible he’s lying about that; it could have been just the once. But they definitely met. He knows how Papa likes his coffee, where he and Mum went on holiday, and that they’re dieting. And his explanation for making contact was plausible. He said he went to one of Papa’s lectures.” She shrugged, her focus on the mug in her hands.

  “If you think it’s of value, I’ll talk more with him later.” She turned to Aiden. “Is there any chance I can visit Papa? You said the facility was locked down.”

  Aiden nodded. “Of course. I can clear you for a visit. Do you want to go this afternoon? It might be a good idea to verify Yanni’s story with him.”

  The hospital was over a hundred miles away, but the traffic gods were kind, and the roads were quiet. Two hours later, they signed into a grey, concrete building that looked like a manufacturing plant from the outside. Aiden was right about it being secure. Yves would be safe here from any outside attacks.

  The news was good. Yves was improving, slowly. He was awake, or at least semi-awake. Still in great pain, but the doctors were quietly optimistic now. They would only allow Juli and Jack a few minutes with him.

  Helen sat with him, holding one hand, and Juli took the other. Yves looked terrible. The skin on his face seemed shrunken, wizened and a dull, grey colour. His eyes were closed, but Helen told them he’d been talking earlier.

  Juli squeezed his hand. “Papa?” Her voice trembled.

  “Julien.” He sounded sleepy. His eyes opened, and he squinted at her.

  She managed a smile. “Bonjour, Papa.”

  “English, please. Your maman is here.” His mutter made her smile.

  Inching closer, she spoke more confidently. “Papa, someone’s been asking about you. Do you know Alain Auberge?”

  Yves frowned, eyes half-closed. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “We were supposed to meet for coffee, but I felt too ill to go.”

  Juli glanced up at Jack, and he saw the surprise on her face.

  “Did you meet him often? Alain?” she asked.

  “A few times. Starbucks. Tell him I’ll catch up with him when I’m out of this place.”

  Yves must have a way to contact Yanni. Jack leaned down and whispered to Juli, “Ask him how to do that.”

  She nodded. “How can I contact him? I don’t have a number.”

  “Email.” He sounded surprised. “In my notebook.” Damn. That’d most likely been stolen along with all the other documents from Juli’s house.

  Or had it?

  Helen rifled through Yves’ bedside cabinet and produced a small, leather-bound notebook. “Look after it, please.” She handed it to Juli.

  Any further questions were curtailed by the nurse, evicting them.

  Jack flicked through the notebook. Most of the notes were written in French, but there were plenty of phone numbers and email addresses. So far, Yanni’s story held water. Jack still had major doubts.

  They headed back toward London, this time getting caught up in the early-evening traffic. While Jack drove, Juli looked through Yves’ book, through pages of detailed notes and ideas, seminar information, contact names, and tiny sketched plans for his designs.

  Something buried in there could be the key to the entire mystery. If they could find it.

  *

  The little tracking device worked perfectly. As Maria drove slowly through London’s busy evening rush hour, the laptop open on the passenger seat emitted a reassuring series of beeps.

  Would they be pissed that she tracked them here? Nah. They’d understand. It’d be a nice surprise for Juli, who was having the mother of shitty times at the moment.

  Eventually, Maria parked outside a massive converted warehouse, now a plush set of apartments. Staying with friends, huh? Friends with money.

  The phone app was still unstable and needed refinement, but it worked fine over short ranges. Maria switched the tracking to her cell phone, and slipped her laptop into its case. Leaving her car in a no-parking zone wasn’t ideal, but she had a solution for that. She kept a laminated notice in her glove box, for occasions such as this. She set the DOCTOR ON CALL card on the dashboard, and then locked the car.

  That should prevent it being clamped by an over-zealous traffic warden. It’d be good for at least half an hour. Now she had the problem of getting into the building.

  Since it was early evening, chances were good that residents would be coming in from work. If Maria waited patiently, she could tailgate someone.

  She only waited a couple of minutes. A pizza delivery boy arrived on a motorbike and spoke into the intercom. Maria stepped forward, phone pressed to her ear in a pretend conversation, and the guy held the door open for her.

  So. Easy. She blew him a kiss as she sailed through, and smiled when she made him blush. A short skirt and a slash of lipstick, and Maria could get in anywhere.

  Now it was a case of finding the right floor. Pizza Boy disappeared in the elevator, so Maria headed for the stairs. The signal strength increased, as she worked her way up to the top floor. The view would be amazing from here, six storeys up.

  Juli would be so surprised—and pleased, she hoped—to see her.

  There was only one apartment, spanning the loft area. Juli’s friend must be seriously rich. Houston-oil kinda rich, and Maria knew what that looked like.

  She rapped smartly on the door and readied herself to greet Juli or Jack.

  Or—hello—their uber-wealthy friend. The guy who opened the door held a dripping slice of pizza in his free hand. Tall and lean, he had dark hair that flopped onto his forehead over eyes that could have been grey or blue. It was difficult to tell.

  Maria smiled, draped herself in the doorway, and oozed charm.

  “Hey. You must b
e Juli’s friend. Nice place you have here. I’m Maria.” She fully expected him to smile back and let her in, but he stood there, blocking her entrance.

  “Juli’s not here at the moment.” His cut-glass voice shrieked of an expensive education. A small frown marred his perfect brow. “How did you get into the building?”

  Maria widened her smile. “She invited me. Can I come in to wait for her?”

  He stared at her and was just opening his mouth—probably to repeat the question she side-stepped—when a gloop of melted mozzarella slithered across his hand. “Shit,” he said.

  She seized the opportunity. Grabbing a tissue from her pocket, she whisked away the superheated cheese. “You need to get that under cold water. And I’m desperate for the bathroom. Can I please come in? Just for a minute?”

  This time, he stepped back and ushered her into a palatial open-plan apartment. She gazed around, impressed, and spotted the bean cat perched on a windowsill. The tracker was working like a dream.

  She took her time in the bathroom, tidied her hair, and replenished her makeup, dragging out the moment. The guy knocked on the door. She was clearly taking too long.

  “You okay in there?” he asked.

  “Just a moment.” She ran the tap some more, checked her reflection again, and opened the door.

  Yes, he had grey eyes, dark and smoke coloured. Pretty. Maria waved her phone at him. “Why don’t I find out how long she’ll be? The traffic can be a giant pain in the ass this time of day.”

  His gaze was wary. “Juli never said anything about you visiting. Why don’t I call her?” He dug a phone out of his pocket and dialled a number, while Maria stepped closer to the enormous window, to admire the view.

  She wouldn’t call herself nosy, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to check out his apartment. Sparsely yet elegantly furnished, it was definitely a man’s place. Enormous plasma TV, state-of-the-art sound system with Bang & Olufsen speakers, and a couple of guitars and amplifiers in one corner. This guy must be loaded. Behind her, Grey Eyes tapped his foot in an impatient rhythm. Juli mustn’t be picking up her phone.

 

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