Constantine Legacy (Jake Dillon Adventure Series) (7 page)

I’d slept for barely four hours. The pounding inside
my head reminded me that I had downed the best part of
a bottle of single malt whisky with exceptional ease. It
was a birthday gift from Charlie, given with ceremony,
kilt and all. The memory of him standing there at the
restaurant, telling me that only the Scots knew how to
brew fine malt.

Tats had let herself into the apartment with her
own keys, and was busy in the kitchen. I came through
in my bathrobe, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and
thinking that LJ had probably asked her to drop by and
pamper me.

“How long have you been here?” The drum in my
head beat louder with the effort of speech.
“About half an hour. You look absolutely awful.
Why don’t you go and freshen up, you smell like a
distillery. Breakfast will be another ten minutes.”
She was wearing a dark blue suit of impeccable
quality, the skirt cut just the right length, to show off her
firm slender legs to best effect.
I showered, dressed for the office and went back
through to the kitchen.
Warm croissants straight from the oven and freshly
squeezed orange juice awaited me and so did the latest
news about the explosion that killed Charlie.
We sat a while, drinking coffee in silence. Tatiana
broke the spell. “LJ spoke to one of his old pals at the
Yard early this morning. They’ve established that the
device used to blow the Range Rover is one favoured
by professional contract killers. The detonator is of a
sophisticated type, triggered by digital mobile phone or
directly wired into the vehicle’s electrical system. On
this occasion they think it was detonated remotely by
phone, indicating that the person was still within viewing
distance of the vehicle. The bomb squad boys can’t be
sure of course, due to the extent of the damage caused,
but they reckon about a kilo of explosive was used. They
will be able to be more specific when they determine what
type was used. One thing that’s for sure though, Jake, that
bomb was supposed to kill, not just maim whoever was
in that car. That someone was without doubt supposed to
be LJ, not Charlie.”
“Why LJ, who would want him that dead do you
suppose?” I said, absentmindedly breaking off a piece of
croissant and dunking it into my coffee.
“Oh - I should think we could come up with at
least a hundred or so names, of people that he’s used and
abused in his time. But seriously, Jake, certain parties
think it’s probably to do with either someone or possibly
some assignment that he’s been involved with in the past.”
“By certain parties, you mean the Partners?”
“Yes, I mean the Partners.”
“There is something else you need to know, nothing
to do with the explosion,” she said, “the blueprint for the
new Network.”
“What about it?” I said, tilting my head forward
and frowning at her from across the dining table.
“The Partners have copies. I’m sorry to say that
crusty old fart Morris Drysdale at the Foreign Office is to
set up one of his famous little feasibility teams.”
“Oh hells bells,” I groaned. “I know what that
means.”
“You’re well out of it,” said Tats. “LJ is sitting in
for you at present. They will discuss which department
will co-ordinate operations.”
“Power,” I said. “I left the army because of all the
crap. LJ wasn’t kidding when I joined the firm.”
“Even our friends at Thames House are trying to
get in on the act.”
“I thought that might happen, the spooks see
this as an excellent opportunity to acquire a brand new
Network, gathering all sorts of intelligence, without
having to do a damn thing.” I got up from the table and
started to pace the kitchen.
“You should know how it is by now,” said Tats.
“If the Partners don’t make a token gesture to them,
when it comes to calling in favours they would have no
bargaining gambits to play with.”
“As a diplomat, Tatiana, you are like a fox, cunning
and resourceful. You constantly impress with your ability
to placate me like a small child. Of course you are right, I
should know better by now.” I said, with a wry grin.
Tats gave me one of her quirky smiles, got up and
said, “Hell, look at the time, I’ve got to go. I’ll speak to
you later.” We kissed; and she left as quietly as she had
arrived.

By the time I reached the firm, organised
pandemonium had developed in the department. People
everywhere, phones glued to ears, words being spoken
rapidly. Computer screens were alive with text and
images, eyes fixed on them. Everyone had one thing and
only one thing on their minds, to find out who had killed
Charlie McIntyre. The word from above was simple; one
of our own had been killed. The objective was to pull in
all our sources of information and see what came out at
the other end.

I joined LJ and Tats in the conference room.
The image that filled the end wall on the screen made
my stomach turn and the colour shot of what remained
of the Range Rover made the hairs on the back of my
neck stand on end. The doors were completely gone and
everything inside had been erased by the blast and the
ensuing fire. Only the rims remained of the wheels in each
corner, all of the rubber was burnt away.

The roof had been spilt through the middle and the
bonnet lay twisted twenty feet away.
“Charlie knew that something wasn’t right, but he
couldn’t put his finger on it, you know?” I said to no one
in particular while staring at the large screen.
“I’ve been thinking about recent events. We should
take a closer look at dear old loveable Harry Caplin.
Something about him is definitely odd.” I sat at the end
of the large maple table staring at nothing in particular.
“What makes you think that he is anything other
than what he says he is?” LJ asked, pompously.
“Call it a hunch,” I said, ignoring his intonation.
“Um, your hunches have been my embarrassment
before, Jake. Give me one good reason why I should
concentrate the firm’s resources in this area of investigation.
When there is no evidence whatsoever to substantiate my
doing so.”
“For the simple reason that Charlie is laid out in
pieces at the local morgue,” I retorted flatly.
“Don’t be smart. I’m as saddened as you, or anyone
else who had the privilege to know him, could possibly
be. What makes you so sure that this Harry Caplin had
anything to do with the explosion? It was my car that
was bombed, so whoever carried out this despicable act
was obviously after me and not Charlie. Wouldn’t you
agree?” LJ’s face had reddened and sweat trickled off his
forehead.
I got up and moved to the end wall, standing with
the projected image behind me.
“There is evidence,” I said, pausing for effect.
“Harry Caplin, George Ferdinand and Robert Flackyard,
there is some sort of link between them.”
“Caplin has been seen entering Flackyard’s house at
all hours and frequents a number of his, how shall we say,
less reputable establishments. As for George Ferdinand,
well he really is rather odd, and he’s exceptionally good
at lying. Flackyard; he is a very serious individual, and
capable of just about anything. But that is merely my
own opinion, of course. As for Flackyard, what do we
really know about him? Well, he is extremely wealthy;
influential beyond belief, almost certainly has a Cabinet
Minister in his pocket. Has been able to elude the boys in
blue for many years with his own private army of lawyers,
and is an international playboy. That last bit by the way, I
firmly believe is nothing more than a charade, a sleight of
hand, like a magician creating an illusion. Do you know
what the most fascinating thing to date is?”
“Well, let me tell you. Flackyard is the only one
asking for the opium to be given back, but he’s not the
one who owns it. It will be the drugs though that will
flush the real owner out, and Charlie’s murderer. Because
the two are almost certainly linked, and if we’re looking
for reasons why he may want you dead, need I say more?”
I sat down; Tats poured me some more coffee.
“Oh, I see the pattern as far is it goes, Jake. But
let’s not jump to conclusions. I still feel that Flackyard
would not jeopardise his position.”
“Especially as he is fully aware of the Partners’
power and far-reaching influence that they can wield
if they need to. No, if anyone wants me dead it will be
someone whom I’ve really upset in the past. Of that, I’ve
got no doubt.”
“But no matter, we will attend to that in due
course and before I forget, I’ve been contacted by former
general Franco Santori. He’s now the elected spokesman
for our group of Italians. Apparently they’ve sacked the
two negotiators whom you met with at Ahmed’s house in
Cairo.”
“They’re saying that the agreement made in Cairo
was not legal and that they want the firm to cough up a
lump sum of Euros. If you recall the timing of this initial
sum of funding was a sticking point in your negotiations.
And I’m afraid that you’re going to have to go back to
Egypt sooner rather that later, old son, and sort this one
out.” LJ’s mobile rang; excusing himself, he went outside
into the corridor.
While he was out of the room Tats informed me
from across the table.
“The Partners won’t hand over the cash you know.
Not unless they have the counterfeit Euros that Flackyard
has promised them. Do you remember that time Flackyard
came to see the Partners? Well he tried to wheedle his
way into the action, of course he had no idea that his
fake Euros were going to be used to fund another of the
firm’s client ventures. All the same he’s not stupid and
somehow, God knows how, he’s got wind of something
big going down. The outcome as you can imagine is that
the Partners told him in their best Eton drawl, to basically
crawl back under his stone and to stay there.”
LJ came back into the room, looking less flustered
and more composed.
“Do you really think that Flackyard or Caplin was
involved in the bombing?” he asked.
“Yes I do,” I said. “Caplin I’m not too sure about,
but Flackyard - he definitely has a motive. That is to say,
although he is extremely wealthy, he is also extremely
greedy too. A man like that is always looking for the next
fix to increase his fortune. My personal view is that when
the Partners sent him scampering back to Bournemouth
full of rejection and anger, he realised that blackmailing the
powers upstairs wouldn’t work, so he sent a professional
to bomb your car. Why, because he is as evil as any one
human being can be and because you are an easy target,
unlike the Partners who are watched all the time. That
explosion was a carefully planned venture have no doubt
about that.”
“Um, well, you’d better be right about this because
I’m going to have to pull in a lot of favours. Tell me what
you found out about him when you went to his home.”
“Well, he obviously speaks perfect English – syntax
and inflection is faultless. He dresses conservatively,
always a black suit, tailored, not off the peg. I have sat
opposite him at the dining table, I can tell you the caviar
and Champagne are genuine.”
“He was an only child; his mother was a Moscow
society prostitute, and his father a wealthy Russian
aristocrat who defected and came to England when
Flackyard was ten. Public school educated at, Bryanston
in Dorset, after which he went on to Oxford to gain an
honours degree in law. That’s about all I got out of him.
His small talk is virtually non-existent.”
We were all quiet for a moment, then Tats said
softly, “I’d like to blow out the brains of whoever
murdered Charlie.”
“I’ll forget that you spoke.” LJ looked at her with
eyes like steel for a moment, then said, “If you want to
continue working down here you’ll never even think
a thing like that, let alone say it. There is no room for
heroics, vendettas or associated melodrama in my very
efficient department. You make your commitment,
take the rough with the smooth and quietly do your
job. Suppose, Jake had been full of macho heroism and
gone running back to Charlie yesterday. He would have
attracted undue attention from any number of reporters
that inevitably hang around there. As well as having to
answer a barrage of questions from some very inquisitive
policemen. Act grown-up Tatiana or I’ll have you frog
marched out of here immediately.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Apology accepted, but don’t ever hanker after
tidiness. Don’t ever think or hope that the great mess of
investigation that forms a large part of our work down
here is suddenly going to resolve itself like the last chapter
of a whodunit: I’ve-got-you-all-gathered-together-in-theroom-where-the-murder-was-done, kind of scene. Be
thankful for odd scraps of information or tip-offs from a
source. Don’t desire vengeance, or think that if someone
murders you tomorrow, anyone will be tracking him or
her down mercilessly. They won’t!”
“We’ll all be strictly concerned with keeping out of
the tabloid newspapers and the Police Gazette.”
Tats was determined to prove what a master of her
emotions she was.
“Chief Inspector Thomson at New Scotland Yard
has sent over a copy of the S.O.C.O. report concerning
your Range Rover. He thought it was safer to let you
have hard copies rather than e-mailing it to you. Have
you seen it?”
“Yes, he telephoned me earlier this morning. By
the way, send him a little something by way of a thank
you, for doing such a good job. There’s not so much as a
mention in any of the dailies.”
“Of course,” said Tats, “he did mention that he
had his people sending emails to all the editors the minute
he found out whose car had been bombed.”
“Apparently there were at least six cars written
off. If the S.O.C.O. people are right in reconstructing the
explosion points, it’s almost as if whoever did this wanted
the fire to spread.”
“Really? I said leaning forward. “Where were
they?”
“Under the bonnet, centre of the roof, behind the
rear seat, between the front seats.” Her eyes had become
ever so slightly red around the edge. She caught me
looking at her, giving me a wan smile back.
LJ went off to compile his report for the Partners.
We had agreed that I should return to the rented house
in Dorset. The Rumples were still there along with Fiona
Price, who, it was decided, could be of use to us for the
time being. We walked through the department to my
office, closing the door behind us.
Tats immediately hugged me tightly, sobbing quietly
into my shoulder. I gently stroked the back of her head.
“Charlie would not have known anything, you know. It
really would have been instantaneous,” I offered.
Blowing her nose, Tats turned and left the room.