Cuts Both Ways

by Solomon Carter

  “But surely that’s just another unnecessary risk, Lauren. You could have called me. Keep this up and you’ll make him even more suspicious. You’re making things worse. Look, if you need to get away from him now, we can arrange it. I’ll make a couple of phones calls and that’ll be that. You’ll be out.”

  Lauren shook her head. “No. I can’t walk away until I know I’ll be safe for good. My mother too. I can run, but she can’t. She’s too old and frail for that.”

  Eva sighed and walked back to the reception desk. Her eyes flicked to the second hand of the wall clock. Two minutes, she told herself. Two minutes. No matter what else Lauren said, when two minutes were up, she was out of there. Mark and Dan had to be the priority.

  “It’s like he knows, Eva. He hasn’t left that laptop of his alone all day. He’s taken it with him wherever’s he’s gone.”

  “You’re saying you couldn’t get hold of those emails?” said Eva. “But we need those emails to make this thing work! And why did you come over here to tell me that? You could have sent me a text. I would have replied. In fact, you could still be there, biding your time until he left the laptop alone. Maybe you gave up too soon.”

  Lauren shook her head. “I couldn’t wait. Time isn’t on my side.”

  Time wasn’t on Eva’s side either. “I have to go, Lauren.”

  “Fine, okay, go. But I’m your priority case, remember that. My life is in danger.”

  “I know and I’ll be with you right after I do this one thing—"

  “Eva, just hear me out.”

  One minute was already up, and the second hand was ticking by fast.

  “Lauren…” said Eva.

  “You’ve got to listen. I need you to think about where we go from here,” said Lauren. “I know you’ve done all this kind of stuff before. I haven’t.”

  “You’re going to be fine. But you should go back home and see if you can get those emails to me before the end of the day. He’s bound to leave that laptop lying around some time.”

  “He’s not budging, I’m telling you. And I’m not comfortable with waiting around in that apartment. I need you to do something Eva. I need you to take action before he does.”

  “But if I’m going to be able to make him do anything, those emails are the very least that we need.”

  “I told you, it’s not going to happen. He knows I’m onto him. Please listen to me on this before it’s too late. You’ve got to come through with a plan B!”

  Eva shook her head. “I’ve got to go. Look. What do you want me to do? Without those emails, you must see we have no power over him.”

  “But the emails were just one thing,” said Lauren. “Just one strategy.”

  “They were evidence of serious wrongdoing, the best kind of collateral we could have hoped for. Without them, I don’t know how else to play it,” said Eva.

  “You’re giving up on me just like that?”

  “I’m not giving up on you at all. I’m just saying without that leverage this thing will be a lot harder to pull off.”

  “There’s got to be another way.”

  “There is. Leave him, start again.”

  “I can’t leave him.”

  “You can. People leave scumbags like him all the time, women all over the world do it every day. You just need to take the first step and I can help you do that.”

  “No,” said Lauren, her eyes flashing with anger. “How many times do I have to tell you. He’ll hurt my family if I leave and he’s going to kill me if I stay! Help me. We were friends, remember?”

  Eva looked at the clock. Words passed silently through Eva’s mind. I’ve only got one friend now. And isn’t you.

  “I said I’d help you and I’m committed to that. But I have to go and do this right now,” said Eva. She headed for the door.

  “Okay… but while you’re out, please… just think about what where we go from here.”

  Eva scanned the woman’s eyes once more as she opened the front door.

  “I need tools to help you, Lauren.”

  “You’ve already got them. I know you have.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Whatever it takes, those were your words, Eva. Think about what that means. I know what you’re capable of. That’s all.”

  Eva frowned as she scanned Lauren’s eyes. Was she really saying what Eva thought she was? Eva shook her head. She needed to process everything; needed time and space. Eva broke away from her gaze and stepped out into the air.

  “I have to go,” said Eva.

  “Think about it,” said Lauren.

  Eva waited in the doorway, holding the door open so as Lauren would leave with her.

  “I’m already thinking about it,” said Eva, her words blank, her eyes distant.

  Lauren’s eyes gleamed. Her lips wavered before they formed a half smile.

  “Thank you, Eva.”

  “I’ll call you,” said Eva. “Just stay out of trouble until then.”

  Lauren walked out into the street and Eva locked the door behind them. She rushed away, half-running to her car parked on the corner, feeling Lauren’s eyes on her, the woman’s goodbye ringing in her ears. Eva gave the briefest of waves as her mind started work on the meaning behind Lauren’s words. She got into her car and looked at the reflection of her green eyes in the rear-view mirror. Eva took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about what Lauren was asking of her. Didn’t want to think what she’d gotten herself involved with. Both cases seemed to be turning rotten at a rate of knots, and Lauren’s especially seemed to be sucking her down to a place she really didn’t want to go.

  “I don’t just need words,” Eva muttered, “I need evidence.”

  Eva thought for a moment before she took out her mobile phone and typed a hasty text.

  Lauren. Whatever we do next, I need to see evidence of what you saw. Either those emails or something like them. Find whatever you can. I’ll call you when I get back.

  Eva tossed her phone aside and started the engine. She pulled out onto Hamstel Road and passed by the office in a blur. She only realised she’d passed Lauren when she saw her waving in the rear-view mirror, but Eva didn’t wave back. Her text wasn’t going to get a warm reaction, but with a client like Lauren, being liked was the least of her worries. She had to be sure about Blane. Once she had seen the evidence against him, Eva knew the case could only get easier.

  But Eva was wrong.

  Thirteen

  “We didn’t do anything wrong, Alma, never did. We were hired to rescue you. To protect you from the danger we were told you were in.”

  “Danger? I was in danger for a while.”

  “In Watford. And then it came here with you.”

  “Watford? No… I was born in Watford. I grew up there. That’s where I lived my precocious childhood years. The indulged super-child who came crashing down to reality. I didn’t like Watford. I didn’t like reality either,” she smiled. “Though I went back to both a good few times. Watford’s where my family are from, but I didn’t come to Southend from Watford.”

  Dan frowned. “But that’s what we were told.”

  “Then someone’s been spinning you a yarn…”

  “Then where did you come from?”

  “I think I come from all over. I’ve been travelling Europe for the last five years plus. The only reason I came here was because things started getting heavy. Really heavy. I had to find somewhere to lie low.”

  “There are better places to lie low. John O’Groats. Lands’ End…”

  “I still like a bit of life, me. This town is about as much the arse end of nowhere as I can handle.”

  “Why did you have to lie low?” said Dan.

  There came a sound from somewhere beyond the meeting room. Alma looked down at Cripps – some kind of reflex action on her part, Dan guessed. But Cripps was still unconscious. He was coming around slowly. His fingers twitched at his sides, his head turned a degree. He w
as still out. Dan looked at Alma.

  “Does anyone else use this place?” said Dan.

  Alma shook her head. “A few people tried to muscle in at the beginning. Proper dossers and a few chancers, but we chased them out. It’s been quiet ever since. That noise might have just been one of the doors. The breeze catches them sometimes.”

  Dan read Alma’s face and saw she barely believed what she had just said. Eva. Maybe it was her. They’d been away from the office for far too long, and he knew she would be worried. The thought prompted him to check his phone. Dan slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile. He saw the screen was lifeless and black. He pressed the on button on the top edge but the thing stayed dead. The battery was out. Damn.

  “That noise… we should check,” said Dan.

  “If there’s a problem, it’ll be your fault,” said Alma.

  “Nothing like a bit of encouragement,” said Dan. He crossed the room and made for the door, but before he reached it, it started to open. A figure clothed in shadow edged into the room. The half-light soon deciphered his features from the shadows. Robert Poulter stared at Dan before his dark eyes flicked onto Alma. He blinked at them both.

  “You. What are you doing here?” said Dan.

  But Poulter didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand and aimed a pistol at Dan’s face. A shock of cold ran through Dan’s veins. He stiffened and felt the air freeze in his lungs. Now he saw it. They’d been played. Played from the very beginning.

  “Back off, Mr Bradley.”

  Dan nodded and took a few careful steps back. As he moved he looked at Alma’s face. Her eyes were bright with alarm and anger, but so far as he could tell, Dan didn’t see any spark of recognition on the girl’s face. She didn’t know the man. The woman had been telling the truth. Robert Poulter wasn’t Alma Poulter’s brother. The man had lied from the start. The question now was why. They’d been caught out, blindsided.

  Because the man seemed pathetic. Because he was a good liar. Because he had a decent strategy and had given them a cash advance to make it work.

  And every part of the equation made Dan angrier – mainly at himself. Alma Poulter had been right about them all along. They had led a villain right to her door.

  Mark seemed to sense it too. The kid was quiet, shamefaced. After damning the kid’s weaknesses Dan felt chastened as he was forced to see his own. Maybe he wasn’t so hot at the PI game as he thought he was. The idea made him angry.

  “What are you doing here? What do you want?” said Dan.

  “Who is this guy?” said the woman. “One of your friends?”

  “Does he look like a friend?” said Dan.

  “The way you people work, it’s hard to tell.”

  Dan looked at Alma and jabbed a finger in the air at the man with the gun. “This is the man who said he was your brother. Robert Poulter. But now I’m guessing that’s a false name too…”

  “You’re a very smart guy,” said Poulter. “Now please, Bradley, back away and get out of my face. Put yourself over there behind the table. You. Alma. You come here, towards me.”

  “Screw you,” said Alma. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

  “Now, now. That’s not so clever, Miss Poulter. I’ve got a gun and you haven’t. I think it’s best you just do as you’re told, and who knows, maybe this can all be dealt with nice and quickly with a happy, safe outcome for everyone”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” said Alma, her words firm. “Whatever you want, you tell me now.”

  There was another sound from elsewhere. A dull thud echoing through brick and concrete, then a clanking sound, which had the man known as Robert Poulter turning to look over his shoulder. An instant later came the sound of a slamming door. The former Robert Poulter stood close to the meeting room door, his gun raised, but now the gun seemed to waver in his hand. The barrel moved, uncertain. The man’s attention was divided between front and rear.

  “Another friend of yours joining the party?” said Robert.

  “Who knows? Could be,” said Alma. Dan scanned her face and recognised the mischief there. She knew no one else was coming, and Dan hoped it wasn’t Eva. He’d been out a long while by now – but only because the case was turning into a blow by blow disaster. But the final shape of the disaster was still not yet clear. Dan’s gut muscles tensed. The old fault lines of his stitched-up stomach injury complained as they were stretched. Trouble was coming. More trouble. As if three possible enemies – Alma, the ex-Robert Poulter, and the unconscious Cripps, weren’t enough.

  Dan scanned Robert’s profile as he peered back at the door. The man’s pistol was still vaguely on them, but Dan watched it hang to the left then the right. There was no certainty whether RP would have shot anyone at all if even if the trigger had been pulled.

  Another sound – a scuff of feet – had the man changing tack. Robert Poulter suddenly thrust himself deep into the meeting room along with them, attempting to push the door shut before he leapt away. But the spring-loaded mechanism at the top of the door refused to oblige and the door hung open displaying a wide slice of the darkness beyond. Robert Poulter looked more nervous than ever. Dan smelt his pungent body odour, saw the sheen of sweat on his face. His nerves were more than the portrayal of a character designed to con them into compliance. Gun or no gun, Robert Poulter was still the nervous type trying to pull off a caper. Dan decided the knowledge gave him a sliver of hope. Maybe it was something he could use to turn the tables, if and when the opportunity ever arose. Robert Poulter noticed Dan watching him. He sniffed and sidestepped to create some space between them. Then the man looked down at Cripps, moving limply on the floor and stepped away from him. The whole time, Alma watched the man – her fake brother – she analysed him and all while the man kept his small, frightened eyes on the door and the darkness of the outer corridor.

  “What is it?” said Dan.

  “Shut up,” said Poulter.

  “You’re still going to give me what I came for!” he hissed at the woman. But now his voice sounded strained and desperate. The cry of a man holding a hand of cards with declining worth. As the fake Poulter looked at Alma, the source of the noise finally arrived.

  The door was bumped open by a new silhouette. This one was far taller than Poulter, but no wider. The tall silhouette pushed the door open carefully, stepping around it only after getting a good look at each of them. His eyes were no more than pinpricks of light. When his eyes landed on Alma, they stayed there and Alma stiffened and watched the shadow like a petrified animal. The tall man walked quietly into the room and left the door to the slow business of swinging shut behind him. He was dressed in a sleeveless puffer gilet jacket, a style that Dan had never liked. He wore an overly fancy gold watch on one wrist, and a bracelet on the other. When the poor-quality light found his features, the shadows receded to reveal a hawkish, drawn face, but the man’s eyes were large. And he barely blinked. Something about his eyes reminded Dan of a bird of prey. There was a silver-grey pistol in his hand, and for Dan it had a familiar, classic shape. His gun was only half raised. In theory, the fake Robert Poulter should have had an advantage. But it was clear from the demeanour of both men, that any advantage was an illusion. In comparison to the tall man with the raptor’s eyes, Robert Poulter had been reduced to a flaky chancer. The tall man’s narrow face formed a grin. A cold, mirthless grin which was almost frightening. Dan saw he would have to act soon. It felt like a certainty. If he didn’t act, this man was going to make bad things happen. In preparation, Dan shot a glance at Alma. He saw her eyes glued on the tall man, staring at him, reading his every move. He watched her thin birdlike neck tighten as she swallowed. Alma Poulter knew this man alright. Her fear was almost tangible.

  “Well, look who’s here,” said the tall man. His voice was jarring. Deep. Gruff. “About time, right?”

  “Piss off. You’re not welcome,” said Alma. But her words were quiet, her voice timid. The attempt at bluster failed.

 
; “See you’ve made some friends. Shame they had to be here today of all days,” said the tall gunman.

  His voice was a brusque thing. It contained a bit of London and maybe a bit of something else. Dutch, Belgian – German even? It was hard to tell, but definitely the continent. A man who had travelled… A man like Alma.

  “We’re only here because of him,” said Dan. He nodded at the fake Rob Poulter. A weak attempt at diversion, but Dan was willing to give anything a try.

  The man shot Dan a hard stare and followed his gaze to Rob Poulter. The man stared at the gun in the fake Poulter’s shaking hand.

  “And who is he supposed to be?” said the man. He looked Robert Poulter up and down, looked at the gun in his hand, and seemed less than impressed.

  “He’s the man who got here before you,” said Dan. The comment brought an ugly look of derision from the tall gunman.

  “Who is he?” said Poulter, trying his best to maintain some semblance of poise. But no one answered his question. Alma was the only one who could have answered. But she didn’t seem inclined to do so. So Rob Poulter improvised. “You… you should leave now,” he said nervously, raising his gun without conviction. Dan saw the weapon shaking in his hand. Poulter raised it slowly and took aim towards the man at the door. The taller man wasn’t intimidated. He took a couple of steps further into the room.

  “I mean it,” said Poulter, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m serious.”

  “It’s better that you were joking,” said the taller man. “Better for you.”

  “Get out,” barked Rob Poulter. “For your own sake, get out while you can.”

  The taller man shook his head. His mirthless smile started to dim.

  “I wouldn’t go around making threats which you can’t back up. A gun doesn’t make you a tough guy. It makes you a target.”