Code Red Lipstick (14 page)

“But if we don't…” The man's voice trailed off.

She groaned inwardly. Even if they didn't find her straight away, Lyndon would discover she was missing from her room when the alarm sounded. She couldn't get back up to her floor in time without being spotted by patrols of security guards if a huge search was launched.

“Fine. I won't tell if you don't,” the first man said. “Let's go.”

The pair left the room, leaving her in darkness again. She waited a few minutes in case it was a trap and they were coming back for her. She looked around. Even though it was dark, she realized it wasn't a store cupboard. It was a good job she hadn't moved backwards. She was crouching at the top of a set of steep stairs.

Carefully, Jessica eased herself down the stairs on her bottom. She counted twenty-five steps before her foot struck something hard in front of her. It was a door.

“Let's see what clearance you have now, Mr Tarasaki,” she said under her breath.

Jessica swiped the sensor and the door clicked open. This was definitely a part of AKSC that was off limits to visitors. She stepped into a large room that was dimly lit and piled high with cardboard boxes. It was a storage area with two doors. She guessed they probably led into loading bays. There was only one way to find out. She flicked open the lid of the silver compact and pressed the blue stone, aiming the X-ray vision at the first door. It was pretty simple to use even for a beginner like her. The compact revealed a corridor, heading deep into the bowels of the building.

She heard a muffled noise behind the second door. It sounded like the clanking of machinery, or was it a lorry reversing? Using the compact, she could see straight into a loading bay. Three – no, four – forklift trucks were loading boxes on to lorries. A dozen or so figures stood on the sidelines, standing guard. She recognized the outlines of their machine guns.

The armed guards were far enough away for her to slip through the door without attracting their attention. They were obviously watching the loading operation. To the left of the door lay a pile of boxes, which she could hide behind. She swiped the lock but the door didn't open. Mr Tarasaki had outlived his usefulness. It was time for more gadgets. She wriggled the emerald ring off her finger again, pointed it at the keypad and flicked the gem, making it spring open. She hesitated. Using a laser wasn't a good idea. She couldn't risk someone spotting a damaged lock.

Jessica slid the ring back on and scooped the blue stone out of the compact instead. She placed it next to the lock. Was that the right position? She had no idea. Nathan hadn't gone into detail. She tried the lock. Nothing happened. She examined the stone. There had to be a way to turn it on. She fiddled with it and felt the base shift and click. Now what? Nathan hadn't said how long the electromagnetic pulse took to work either. Thirty seconds sounded good. She counted down and removed the stone, then tried the door. Hooray! It sprung open.

She crouched down and darted out, ducking behind the boxes. After a couple of seconds she peered out. Nobody had noticed. She watched the loading operation, which was being mounted with military precision. All the boxes were marked with “Teenosity” and “Paris” on the sides. Allegra was starting the distribution of her face cream across the French capital city.

Suddenly, a box fell off a forklift truck with a loud crash. The bottles spilled out and smashed, splashing the man closest to the lorry. He looked down at his trousers and brushed off the cream with his sleeve. He was trying to scoop up the mess when an alarm sounded and the guards sprang into action. One strode up to the bewildered man and marched him away from the spillage while another guard barked orders into a walkie-talkie. Five more men, all carrying equipment, arrived. They sprayed foam on to the damaged cardboard boxes and the smashed bottles of Teenosity.

One of the guards turned around, fixing a hard stare in her direction. She dodged back behind the boxes, her heart hammering wildly. Had he seen her? She couldn't hear anyone running towards her. She peered out again. Phew. He was concentrating on overseeing the clean-up operation again. Seconds later, Lyndon appeared, swiftly followed by Allegra. They marched up to him and all three became locked in a heated argument. Allegra's arms flailed about and she looked like she was going to punch the guard.

Lyndon intervened and pushed the man to one side. He put his arm around Allegra and pulled her close, kissing her protectively on her forehead. Theirs was clearly more than an employer/employee relationship. She steadied herself against the boxes. What on earth was going on? The guards had massively freaked out about the spillage. They'd completely overreacted.

Lyndon and Allegra were still arguing with the guard as Jessica broke cover and ran to the door, which she'd wedged open with her real lipgloss. She used her compact X-ray vision at every corner as she retraced her steps back up to the lab and into the corridor as the alarm continued to sound. This time, she remembered where to find the door to the stairs. She took the steps two at a time, pausing halfway up to catch her breath.

Jessica didn't see any guards. Their attention was clearly focused on the spillage downstairs. The alarm finally stopped as she reached her floor. She used the compact one last time: the corridor was empty. She hesitated. Allegra and Lyndon were downstairs. She probably had a few minutes before Lyndon checked up on her. This could be her only opportunity to snoop around Allegra's suite. She ran down the corridor and stopped at a white door. The letters “A.K.” were emblazoned in gold.

She tried the handle. The door opened and she slipped inside. The suite was like a larger version of hers: white, white and yet more white. One whole room was devoted to Allegra's clothes. She had rails upon rails of Diane von Furstenberg, Armani, Saint Laurent, Chanel, Christian Dior and Versace dresses, blouses, skirts, trousers and evening gowns. Jessica flicked through the hangers. Allegra had labelled all the clothes with the date she'd worn them. She couldn't have worn anything twice. She'd also fitted the room with wall-to-wall mirrors, allowing her to see herself from every angle as she dressed. The next room was full of designer shoes, including Manolo Blahniks, Louboutins and Jimmy Choos. Allegra easily had three hundred pairs.

Jessica padded to the study and tried the drawers of the desk. They didn't contain anything remotely interesting, just expensive-looking AKSC headed notepaper and other stationery. She doubled back and went into the en-suite bathroom. Surprise, surprise, it was all white. What did she have against colour?

She peeped in the bathroom cabinets. They were lined with AKSC anti-ageing eye, neck, face and body creams. She went back into the bedroom and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. Inside was a neat row of large white files. She pulled one out. It was all about Allegra. She'd kept a detailed record of her career dating back to when she was a successful child model, working for different clothing lines. By the age of fourteen, she'd won a major modelling competition, according to a newspaper article. Jessica's eyes rested on another cutting on the opposite page, from the
London Evening Standard
in August 1961.

London socialite Valerie Knight, 38, died in a freak accident at her West Kensington home yesterday.

Mrs Knight suffered a broken neck after falling down the stairs at the home she shared with billionaire businessman Wesley Knight and her 14-year-old stepdaughter, Allegra Knight.

The former waitress was renowned for her parties, which were attended by London's wealthiest and most connected people, and was a regular fixture on magazine best-dressed lists.

Mr Knight's first wife, Rosemary, died of cancer ten years ago.

She'd obviously had a really tough childhood – losing her mum aged four like she had, and then her stepmother. It totally sucked, and might explain some of her strange behaviour. Who wouldn't be traumatized by that? Jessica flicked over. Page after page detailed Allegra's rise to the top of the modelling world. She'd kept press clippings about her retirement and the launch of AKSC.

Jessica picked up another file. It was full of cuttings about Tyler, dating back years. Allegra had been following her career ever since she was scouted by Lydia Hollings at Athens International Airport. She'd collected photographs from her catwalk shows and advertising campaigns for Naturissmo SkinCare as well as newspaper cuttings and magazine articles. She'd underlined facts she'd found interesting, such as
Vogue
announcing Tyler had unexpectedly dropped out of her first solo cover shoot. Jessica fished out a third file. This one was all about Jacey's career. She checked the others. Allegra had dedicated a file to each of the famous five.

She paused as she came to the last page of Olinka's file. It was another photo from Emerald's fiftieth anniversary ball. Allegra stood next to the famous five, but this time she'd scribbled over their faces in black biro with such force it had left holes in the picture. Jessica slammed the file shut and picked up the last one from the drawer. She guessed before opening it what she'd find inside.

Fingers trembling, she checked. She was right. The file was all about
her.
Allegra had cut out an article about her signing to Primus, along with her teen covers. She flicked over the page and found the photo from her
Teen Mode
shoot. Her eyes had been completely scratched out with the same black biro.

The file slipped through her fingers.

Allegra hated them all. That was clear. Could she have been responsible for the famous five vanishing? Margurita had mentioned the plastic surgery rumour. Had Allegra recommended a dodgy plastic surgeon on purpose at the ball out of spite? It seemed far-fetched, but it was the last time the girls had been seen in public. Why did everyone who came into contact with Allegra disappear – Sam, the famous five, her dad? She shivered. What happened to them? Could she be next?

She shoved the files back into the drawer as the suite door clicked open. Allegra was back. Jessica didn't want to be trapped in the bedroom or en-suite bathroom so she ran into the dressing room, squeezing in-between a rail of evening gowns. She heard Allegra walk into the room, humming softly, as she undressed. Then silence. Jessica froze. Had Allegra spotted her? She hadn't heard her walk past into her bedroom. Was she still in the room? Cautiously, Jessica peered out.

Allegra stood completely naked in front of the mirrors, her clothes in a heap by her feet. She smoothed her forehead and pinched an imaginary roll of fat on her waist and beneath her arms. She checked her bottom in the mirror and tweaked her thighs, leaving vivid red marks, as she sobbed loudly. She fled into the bedroom and slammed the door. Jessica slid out of her hiding place. She'd seen enough. Allegra was a total basket case.

She flicked open her compact behind the door, making sure the corridor was empty. She'd almost made it to her room when she heard a
ping
. She spun around and pretended to be walking towards the lift.

“Jessica?” Lyndon stepped out, frowning. “What are you doing out here?”

“I heard the alarm go off earlier. I thought there must be a fire. I wanted to find out what was going on.”

“So you got dressed and brought your face powder?” He stared at the compact in her hand.

What would Sara do now? She flicked the compact open and pulled out her lipgloss, applying a slick.

“Well, you know models. We're a vain bunch. We like to look good at all times.” She snapped the compact shut with a bright smile.

“I see,” Lyndon said. “Well, there's no need to be worried. You can return to your room now.”

“OK, but why
did
the alarm go off?”

“We had a minor incident in the loading bay, that's all.”

“Really? What happened?”

Anger flashed across his face. “Nothing that concerns you.” Stroking his beard, he softened. “What I meant to say is you shouldn't be unduly concerned. A worker accidentally dropped a box on his foot as he loaded the lorries with Teenosity.”

“Ouch! That had to hurt.”

“It's nothing more serious than a fractured toe, but we take security – and safety – seriously here. The alarm system is activated as part of normal protocol.”

“Is he OK? The worker, I mean?”

“He's fine. He's being checked out at hospital. Now if you'll excuse me, I must report back to Miss Knight. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She closed the door, her heart beating rapidly.

Lyndon had lied. The worker hadn't hurt his foot. In fact, he hadn't been injured at all. What was going on?

She wondered if he'd guessed she'd been exploring. More importantly, would Allegra notice her files had been tampered with? If so, Jessica was in serious trouble.

She jammed a chair under the door handle for extra peace of mind and whipped out Becky's phone. She'd bypass MI6 and ring the police direct. Her French was good enough to get a number for the local station from the operator. It couldn't be legal to have security guards armed with machine guns on private premises. They weren't wearing uniforms so they couldn't be gendarmes. The police would have to get a search warrant. Nathan wouldn't be able to stop them. She'd be able to direct them to the corridors in the basement, which were definitely worth a further look. Dad could be down there.

Blast.

Becky's phone was completely dead. She tried her own mobile but that was dead too. How was that even remotely possible? She'd charged both phones that morning and there'd been enough juice to text Mattie before she left the room. She tried taking the batteries out and putting them in again but they still didn't work. She picked up the landline phone, which gave a few rings.