Casanova (26 page)

‘They wanted to know where you were.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I told them.’

She pulled her arm away.

‘I knew you wouldn’t be there,’ I said. ‘It was just to buy some time.’

I pulled the guns from my waistband and dropped them into the footwell.

‘That’s where they were going, to the hotel to look for me.’

‘Did you see them leave?’

‘Yes, a duckling has followed them.’

Xing undid her combat belt and pulled off the webbing.

‘When I realised it was a trap I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer,’ she said. ‘I knew I was too late.’

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

She stared at me in the gloom as if she hadn’t seen me for a week.

‘I thought they were going to kill you,’ she said.

22

MONDAY, 00:00—00:10

JACOMO XABIER CARDOZO ALMADA

A few minutes earlier, Jacomo Xabier Cardozo Almada, the man nicknamed by Meriwether and Xing as Missouri, had run urgently around the east side of his house while recklessly adjusting his assault rifle. His moccasin house slippers were not the ideal footwear for after dark activity in the grounds, particularly when that activity was chasing the escaped Englishman in an attempt to halt his getaway by shooting him dead.

While he ran the house alarm was sounding, two of his men lay unconscious on the kitchen floor, another two were down, one in the study and one in the courtyard and two others, ahead of him now, were anxious to release the guard dogs. He continued to struggle with the rifle clip and his moccasins that hampered his progress along the gravel pathway.

‘Release them, release the dogs,’ he said, growling the words with fury every bit as sincere as the real thing.

Both hounds tore away and were out of sight in seconds. The clip finally worked and he scrunched his toes in an attempt to catch up.

Then he heard a gunshot quickly followed by a quieter rifle shot. Reaching the corner, he turned to the south and stopped. Ahead, one of his two men fired across the garden at the squatting Englishman. Both dogs lay dead. The bullet spray from the LMG [
LMG: light machine gun
] missed. Then, out of the darkness, beyond the wall came two rifle shots in rapid succession. Ahead, both men dropped. With fear biting at his slippers, Jacomo rushed behind the bushes in a desperate attempt to take cover and find safety.

The Englishman had escaped.

Now, back indoors, Jacomo Almada sat at the kitchen table in a thunderous mood. Around him, injured men held ice packs to their heads and groaned like demented walruses. An explanation of how the Englishman had gotten free and then escaped leaving behind such carnage was yet not established. The house alarm no longer sounded that at least was something.

His phone rang. He checked the screen and then answered.

‘Did you get her?’ he asked, speaking rapidly in Portuguese.

‘No, boss, she wasn’t there. We must have missed her. She’s gone.’

Jacomo swore loudly. They had missed Mosquito. The opportunity to find her and kill her was lost.

‘Come back,’ he said. ‘The Englishman has escaped.’

‘...escaped, how has he escaped?’

Jacomo didn’t answer. ‘Just get back here,’ he ordered.

He didn’t want to think that the person who fired the rifle shots from beyond the wall, the person who helped the Englishman escape was Mosquito and that had it not been for his slippers he may have been in front, and had he been in front then now it would be he that was dead. The thought of dying scared him. Despite his familiarity with death, when it came to his own mortality he was a coward. He cursed again.

Still holding his phone, he went to messages and reread the anonymous offer that had appeared unexpectedly the previous day. It contained evidence of the author’s assertion that the offer was genuine. The evidence was true. Initially, the triad boss had dismissed it. Yesterday, he still had Erico and the likelihood of a successful outcome in the pressing matter of Mosquito but not anymore. He glanced at Erico who pressed ice to his temple and moaned. He imagined Mosquito aiming a rifle. She was aiming it at Jacomo.

Jacomo considered the unidentified offer with renewed interest and then reached a decision. Inside his pocket, he found the bank device for generating code numbers. It was like a key fob. Using his phone, he made the transfer payment of one million pounds and then sent a message. The message read:
Payment made, send information, urgent.

He returned the key fob to his pocket and sat back. Would the information come through he wondered and would it be any good? He didn’t care who the person was that would betray Mosquito for money as long as he, Jacomo Xabier Cardozo Almada, got Mosquito before she got him.

23

MONDAY, 00:10—03:00

Our duckling stopped the truck outside a garage that had a tyre sign hanging above the entrance. The double doors humbly displayed oily black streaks of age.

Jemima was waiting for us in his taxi.

Xing thanked the duckling with just two words of Cantonese, and then we changed from the truck to the advertisement-covered Toyota.

Jemima turned to look at us as we slid onto the back seat. He couldn’t hide his expression of surprise.

‘I told you I’d get him out,’ Xing said, making a point. Jemima conceded with an Englishman’s acquiesce of his head.

‘I’m very pleased you’re safe,’ he said, looking at me, and then added, ‘both of you.’

Xing made a huffy sound and then said something in Cantonese. Jemima’s face turned pink with shock.

These two had obviously argued about what to do, and now hostility was back.

‘Stop this,’ I said. ‘Listen, Jemima was right about the risks, and you were brave to take them on. I’m safe now. It doesn’t matter that you disagreed. It’s over. Now, we move forward, together.’

‘Yes, you’re quite right,’ Jemima said.

Xing huffed again, but this time it came dipped in chocolate.

Peace was back, for now.

The painkillers were kicking in, but my bare torso still felt like a piñata doll. I rubbed the cut bruise and Xing studied it closely.

‘A rubber bullet,’ she observed, ‘and the cut is from the point of a knife.’ Her eyes searched my face but she didn’t question me.

‘What did Meriwether say?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Xing replied. ‘After he refused to order help from the ducklings I wouldn’t speak to him.’

‘He was genuinely concerned,’ Jemima said, ‘but you must understand it was a difficult position. There was nothing he could do.’

Xing was huffing again.

‘What about C?’ I asked.

‘...C? Oh, yes; no, I didn’t call her,’ Jemima said.

I looked at Xing.

‘Why would I call her?’ she said.

Jemima said, ‘I assumed Meriwether would tell her.’

‘...but she hasn’t called you?’ I asked.

Jemima shook his head.

‘No,’ he said, ‘she hasn’t called me.’

I wasn’t sure what to make of that. I filed it for later consideration.

‘They took my K106,’ I said.

Jemima nodded.

‘It’s been destroyed,’ he said. ‘We tried to pinpoint you in the house but we couldn’t get a signal.’

Xing put her hand around my wrist.

‘They took your watch,’ she said. I nodded. ‘I’ll kill them,’ she said. I wasn’t certain Jemima knew she was joking. I thought I heard him swallow. He coughed and said, ‘Shall we go?’

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘Somewhere that sells shirts,’ Xing suggested.

This time Jemima got it and gave a polite laugh.

‘Do you still have your passport and credit card?’ he asked.

‘They’re back at the hotel,’ I said. ‘I didn’t have them on me; all I took was some cash, and the phone.’

‘It’s okay,’ Xing said, ‘I have them.’

I questioned her with my eyes.

‘I went back to the hotel and got all our things.’

‘Why?’

‘I needed the money.’

‘Why?’

She lifted the LMG and shook the webbing. ‘I had equipment to buy.’

I didn’t question her any further.

The taxi was moving. A duckling was driving it. Jemima had turned in the passenger seat and was looking at me.

‘So where are we going?’ I asked him.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I haven’t made any plans.’

‘He didn’t think we were coming back,’ Xing said.

Jemima coughed awkwardly.

‘No, it wasn’t that,’ he said. ‘I just thought you would want to make your own decisions.’

Xing huffed.

‘Drop us at the Square,’ she said, and then leaned forward and gave the instruction to the duckling in Cantonese.

We rode in silence.

The taxi pulled over and Xing got out.

‘I’ll call you,’ I said to Jemima.

He nodded.

‘I’m glad you’re safe,’ he said.

Outside, Xing was already lifting our rucksacks from the boot. She left all her commando kit behind except for the Glock and the Fairbairn-Sykes.

I found a shirt in my bag and pulled in on. The taxi drove off. Xing passed me a new Glock. I took it and put it in my waistband.

‘Let’s find somewhere to spend the night,’ she said.

‘You shouldn’t have gone back to the hotel,’ I said.

She shrugged.

‘I had time,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t think you would tell them straight away.’

I left it there.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘This way,’ she said, ‘follow me.’

The traditional Portuguese-style hotel was limited in size. There was only one room not taken, the top floor suite. I passed over my credit card and then concluded the formalities.

We had only been in the room a minute when Xing’s K106 rang. It was Meriwether. Xing spoke briefly to him before passing me the phone.

‘It’s your caring boss,’ she said. ‘I’m going to take a shower. Join me when you’re finished.’

‘Dear boy, you’re safe. Jemima called me with the good news. I was very worried; I ought to have known I needn’t be. You’re an exceptional fellow. Now then, down to business. Has your little escapade changed anything? I take it Missouri is still alive?’

‘Yes, he’s alive, nothing has changed. I’ve learnt a few new things, but only things that can help.’

‘Good, good, then let’s continue with Jackie’s plan. Take a bit of time if you need it. Jemima will assist, and I’ll have him put his ducklings at your disposal.’

‘Okay, I’m sure Jackie will be pleased.’

‘Yes, I’m sure. I don’t think Jackie is too happy with me. She wanted me to authorise an attack on Missouri’s house using the ducklings in order to rescue you, but I refused. It was simply too risky. I hope you understand. Perhaps you can talk to her. I’m sure now that you’re safe she’ll come round. The last thing I want is a nihilistic, far-eastern female killer angry with me.’ Meriwether then made a strange noise. He guffawed loudly.

For some reason he found the prospect of an angry Xing amusing. I didn’t comment, instead I asked him a question.

‘What do you mean, nihilistic?’

‘She doesn’t have any loyalties, any morals; her only purpose is killing; she doesn’t value life or believe anything is real. She exists within despair and sees existence as pointless. She’s the epitome of nihilism.’

‘What about the money? She wants the money, surely that means she has some grounding in reality.’

‘She doesn’t really care about the money; it’s just an excuse. She doesn’t believe life has any intrinsic value, or any purpose, or any meaning.’

‘Then why didn’t she kill me? In Tenerife, she could have killed me but she didn’t, why not?’

‘Are you sure she could have killed you?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

Meriwether paused for a moment while he thought.

‘Then perhaps you’ve touched something deep inside her. I can only think of one thing it might be.’

‘...which is?’

‘You have brought back memories of her father. Perhaps she sees in you the only man that gave her life any sense. Be careful, my boy, if it were to change then killing you would be as easy to her as blinking.’

‘If you think she’s so dangerous, and that the money doesn’t matter to her, why are you using her?’

‘Dear boy, needs must when the Devil drives. It’s as she said,
with me it can be done, without me it is impossible
.’

I thought of Billy Bradshaw and his warning. I found myself doubting the honesty of what people were telling me; or at least questioning their motives.

‘Why wasn’t C involved when I got taken?’

‘She left it to me.’

‘Why?’

‘That’s a question for her,’ he said. Then Meriwether finished the call with a strange comment. He said, ‘What I do has national importance and, at the moment, I couldn’t do it without you.’

I pulled off my clothes and stepped into the shower. The nihilist welcomed me into her arms and moved me under the hot jets of water. I closed my eyes and tried to banish the demons. She hugged my back and held me tight. We were silent. Her naked body pressed against mine and the powerful water jets helped level my reality. I had come close again, and escaped again. I ignored probability.

‘What did you mean when you said that you needed me?’ My words hung. There was no change to the feel of her body.

‘You’re important, that’s all,’ she said.

‘Important?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she said, and moved around to my front. She gently kissed the bruise of my abdomen. She looked up. ‘Important to me,’ she said.

The sex began in the shower and then moved into the bedroom. It was varied and unhurried. I was tired but I was alive. Xing’s body ascended, heightened by the act.

She had made me tell her everything that had happened from when I walked into the supermarket to when she shot and killed the dog. I had praised her shooting and she had replied that it was the artisanship of the rifle and the technology of the night scope. In turn, she had told me all that had happened after they had taken me: the conversations with Jemima and Meriwether; the arguments over what to do; buying the equipment, and most importantly to her the plan she had devised to achieve my rescue unaided. The plan appeared to involve her entering stealthily and silently while killing everyone she came across until she found me, freeing me and then doing the same, except in reverse, on the way out. I told her I thought it was an excellent plan. It wasn’t of course, but I knew if anyone could have done it then she could. She seemed a little disappointed that she hadn’t had the chance to prove it.

She said, ‘You spoilt everything by escaping yourself and being in the garden when I got there. All I had to do was fire a couple of rifle shots and drop a rope ladder.’

I didn’t complain.

We took a break from the physical stuff and ordered dinner from room service. My abdomen was aching again so I took some more painkillers. The medicinal kissing from earlier, in the shower, had obviously worn off, and what had replaced it was not quite so recuperative.