I, Spy? (25 page)

Somehow I doubted so. I sniffed and ignored him. There was a pizza box open on the coffee table and a few slices left in it.

“You ordered pizza?”

“Well, it’s a funny thing,” Luke said, “I opened the door and there was this guy just standing there offering me pizza. Even when I hadn’t ordered it.”

So he was being sarcastic. At least he was talking to me.

“How long have you been here?” I asked Tom.

“Oh, a while.” He didn’t take his eyes off the TV. “You okay?”

“Never better.” I threw myself at the beanbag by Luke’s feet and reached for some pizza. Pizza always makes me feel better.

“I mean after last night. I called to see how you were and Luke told me to come over.”

I flicked my gaze up at Luke but he was still watching the TV.

“Did he now?”

“Didn’t know you two were an item.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke said, still not looking at me. Hmm. Maybe he wasn’t talking to me after all.

Tom looked between the two of us, his eyes smiling but the rest of his face immobile. “Right,” he said slowly. “So, that guy from yesterday, Soph, was he just a mate then?”

“Was,” I said.

“You turn him in?”

“We took care of him,” Luke said. He sounded like a hitman.

“So do I like have to make a statement or something?”

“Write it down,” Luke said. “I’ll take it in.”

Tom frowned, but he didn’t argue. The match ended, Man U won and I finished off the pizza, feeling better for it. In half an hour, I’d drunk a whole two litre bottle of water. I felt better for that, too, although my bladder was bursting.

When I came back from the loo, Tom was shrugging into his coat. “Said I’d be back an hour ago,” he said. I nodded.

“Nice of you to drop by.”

“Just to see you’re okay.” He kissed my cheek. Aw. Sweet lovely Tom.

I bet those are words that aren’t said very often.

“How are you getting home?” I asked, knowing he didn’t drive.

“Train.”

Luke caught my eye and shook his head. I knew what he was thinking. The last person who’d helped me apprehend a criminal had been shredded.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“Are you legal to drive?”

I scowled at him. “Yes.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. I stomped back into the bedroom, pulled on a sweater and jeans and came back out for my trainers and keys. Luke was still standing there, watching me. I know I looked a wreck but really, he wasn’t allowed to comment.

“
What
?”

“What are you going to drive?”

“Te—” Ted was at Luke’s house. “Bollocks.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Luke said to Tom, who nodded.

“Wait! I’m coming too. I want my car.”

Luke rolled his eyes but didn’t complain. First time for everything.

We were all silent in the car. Tom was in the front and messed around with the radio, trying to get X-FM and mercifully failing. I had a feeling that Luke’s musical tastes might differ from Tom’s quite considerably.

“Are you coming to the Cambridge gig on Saturday?” Tom asked as he got out of the car.

“Where?”

“Dunno. Ask Chalker.”

“Like he ever knows anything,” I grumbled as I got into the front seat. “See you, Tom.”

“See you.”

He and Luke nodded at each other, then Tom was gone, sneaking into the garden for a crafty fag before his parents saw him. Luke turned the car around and drove away.

“Will you be all right on your own tonight?”

“If I throw up any more, I’ll be bringing up organs,” I said. “I’ll be fine. I feel okay.”

This was a lie. My brain felt fat and sluggish and my body matched. But I didn’t feel like I was going to die any more, which was a definite improvement.

We got back to Luke’s house, the yard silhouetted by a security light, and sat silently for a few seconds in the dark car. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs, feeling better for it.

“Look,” we both began at the same time, and then both stopped. “You first,” Luke said.

“I’m really sorry about this afternoon. I don’t know what was wrong with me.”

“You were really drunk?”

“Well, yes…”

“Everyone gets pissed once in a while, Sophie,” Luke said, and I wondered,
Even you
? “Just don’t do it on duty, okay?”

“Did you get anything from his room?”

He shrugged. “If he’s involved in this, he’s hiding it damn well.”

“He wants to see me tomorrow.”

“Even after your spectacular—”

“Yes, thank you. I figure he must be up to something if he still wants to see me.”

Luke paused, smiling. “You’re not that unattractive when you’re drunk,” he said, unfastening his seat belt. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

I’d probably be sick on him. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

He nodded and got out of the car. “By the way,” he said as I was unlocking Ted, “I changed the security codes. Knock next time.”

I rolled my eyes and drove home. But I didn’t go back to sleep. I was all slept-out. I started up the computer and looked over Harvey’s alumni website again. He was definitely up to something. If it wasn’t a collaboration with Wright, then what was it?

I needed to get him and Wright together. Then maybe I’d be able to see.

I texted Luke,
Do you know where Wright is?

He replied in seconds.
Checked in to B&B in village 2hrs ago. Why?

I wasn’t sure why.
Think I need to see him and Harvey together. Still don’t think Harvey is partner. Wright said was a woman.

Wright’s an idiot
, Luke replied, and I couldn’t argue with that.
We’ll check out B&B tomo. Go to sleep
.

But I could argue with that. I wasn’t happy with waiting. I needed to know something.

It could be that Sven had spiked my drink for his own selfish purposes. Or, given the fingers and the sniper and the firebomb, it could be that he was involved with whoever was trying to kill me. Whoever had killed Chris. Whoever was involved with the Brownie twins and whoever was Wright’s partner. I’d stake good money it was the same person.

But I wouldn’t bet on it being Sven.

I grabbed my keys and double locked the door, and I drove up to the office. I had keys for the outside door, and I was hoping and praying that my pass would swipe me in. The green one failed, but the red one worked.

Note to self: do not keep PIN code on a Post-it stuck to pass.

The office was quiet and eerie when it was dark. I don’t know why I didn’t switch on the lights. I suppose I wanted to be unseen. I don’t think many people use the business park after hours, but there could be someone around. Maybe Harvey. He seemed to have a knack for turning up in places he shouldn’t be.

Oh, Jesus. Suddenly it came to me. I knew who Harvey was.

I couldn’t wait for the computer to boot up. I wasn’t sure where the files were kept and it seemed like forever until I got the one I wanted. The log of people who’d gone airside the night Chris was killed. Ana’s name was there, but Chris’s wasn’t. I’d been assuming he’d been killed airside. But maybe he’d been killed somewhere else and taken through to the undercroft.

No. No, you couldn’t just take a body through. The scanners were manned all night. Someone would have noticed. Just to be sure, I brought up a log of all baggage screened overnight. None.

Which meant that, either dead or alive, someone had deleted Chris Mansfield from the log.

I drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking. He’d been deleted. And whoever had killed him had been deleted, too.

I stared at Alexa’s screen-saver of George Clooney pictures. There was an answer to this. Someone had deleted the information. What I needed was a BAA recycle bin so I could trawl through the deleted names.

Idly, I searched the computer for Chris’s name and ID. It took forever, but one match came up.

In the computer’s recycle bin.

Was her computer networked? Had someone deleted the file from here? I opened up the deleted, but not eliminated, log. There was Chris’s name. And there was…

I felt the nausea rise in my throat again. Quickly, I searched the recycle bin for media files. Whoever had done this had been stupid or careless, or both, because there they were, the BAA footage files from the night Chris was killed. I knew the spliced footage had been added before 0236, because that’s when the mouse ran across the floor. But what I had here were nearly two hours of footage, starting at just after two in the morning and running through until just before Ana came on screen.

It was grainy and I couldn’t make out who they were. But I was pretty sure they weren’t who the log said they were. I was pretty sure those passes had been stolen. Or the names had been planted. That was all I could think of to explain it.

I replayed the footage over again. There. Chris had walked into the undercroft, presumably waiting for Ana. He’d been early by about half an hour. Or she’d been late. Neither of us had thought to ask her if she’d been on time.

But what Chris hadn’t known was that the undercroft wasn’t empty. Someone had been using it for a meeting. In the Ace staff room. Which was supposed to be empty. Which was why Chris walked in there. And why he was killed.

And then they took his body and put it in the belt mechanism. I didn’t know why. Maybe they were coming back for it later. Maybe they wanted to make a point.

They were long gone by the time Ana made her appearance. I’d even watched them clean up the blood.

I sat back in my chair. Probably I ought to tell Luke about this. But there was something else I had to do first.

I got out my phone and called Macbeth, hoping he’d be in. It was well after midnight, although I wasn’t sure why that bothered me.

“Hey, babe,” he answered. “You locked in again?”

“Locked out,” I said. “You know the lab under the office?”

“I know it,” he said.

“Can you get in?”

“I can get in anywhere.”

Ten minutes later he strolled through the door. “What you wanna do down there you don’t want Luke to know about?”

“It’s what I want to say that I don’t want him to know.”

Macbeth shrugged. “Can I know?”

“You can watch.”

He looked excited at the prospect and quickly pulled the files off the bookshelf to find the hidden keypad. The door swooshed open and we stepped into the lift.

“You do know how to get through this lock, right?” I asked nervously. “I mean, it’s not going to fill up with poisonous gas or something if you don’t put the right code in in thirty seconds?”

Macbeth was looking at me like I’d grown another head. “Girl, you watch too much TV,” he said, and swiped his pass on the machine. He keyed in a code, spoke his name—sadly, not his real name—and the lift started moving.

“How come you get access and I don’t?”

“I didn’t get blind drunk this afternoon,” he replied, grinning.

“God, does everyone know about that?”

He shrugged and grinned some more.

The lift doors opened and I could see Sven slumped in the corner of his cage, a dark lump in the shadowy corner. “Hey,” I yelled, “wake up. I need to talk to you.”

But then Macbeth switched on the light, and my blood suddenly froze in my veins, because it wasn’t Sven lying in the corner of the cell. It was One. And he was dead.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Macbeth said.

“I know,” I said.

“That dude is dead.”

“I know,” I said.

We both stood and stared. In other circumstances we might have opened up the cell and checked for a pulse or something. But that seemed rather ridiculous when we could both see, quite clearly, a tiny bullet hole on one side of One’s head. And a giant bloody hole on the other side.

“He ain’t the guy was down here earlier.”

I concentrated on breathing. “When did you come down here?”

“This afternoon. ‘Bout four.”

“Was there a formerly cute Norwegian guy in here then?”

“Formerly cute?”

“I changed my mind after he tried to drug me.”

“Blue shirt, vomit in his hair?”

“That’s the bunny.”

“You reckon he killed Albert?”

“Well, I think I just saw footage of him killing Chris Mansfield,” I said, “so I wouldn’t rule it out.”

Macbeth walked over and ran his hands over the door of the cell. “But he couldn’t’ve broken out,” he muttered. “No one could. I made this thing everything-proof. This here is the only door I can’t break through.”

I believed him.

“But if Sven didn’t break out, then someone must have let him out,” I said.

“Maybe Albert went in there and this Sven guy killed him,” Macbeth said.

It was weird to hear One called Albert. “No—” I began, and he cut me off.

“No, ‘cos you need to swipe it shut. And this dude still has his pass,” he peered through the glass.

“Plus, isn’t it voice activated?”

“Sure is.” Macbeth turned back to look at me. “Which means only five people could’ve done it.”

“Four,” I said. “I never got my voice activation activated.” To prove it, I swiped my card in the slot and keyed in my code. There flashed a green light to say the code was accepted.

“Sophie Green,” I said, and the light turned red. Denied.

“Which leaves Alexa, Maria, Luke and me,” Macbeth said. “And I know I did not do it. Albert had my respect.”

I wasn’t going to argue with Macbeth. “It wasn’t Luke,” I said. “He’s been at mine all afternoon.”

“You sure ‘bout that?”

“Why would Luke kill One?”

Macbeth shrugged. “Why would anybody?”

“Do you know where Maria was?”

“No. I ain’t seen her since this morning.”

It didn’t matter. I knew who’d done it. And I was very frightened.

I took Macbeth back up to the computer and showed him the deleted log of people who’d been down to the undercroft. Christopher Mansfield. Sven Christensen. Alexa Martin.

“Our Alexa?”

“I thought maybe it’d been a plant,” I said. “Or someone had stolen her pass. Because, look,” I opened up the deleted footage and showed him the two people in the staff room before Chris walked in. A tall blond man and a petite blonde woman. Both standing. No wheelchair.

“She was faking that?”

“Must have been.” I was shivering. I’d trusted Alexa. I’d liked her. Was I really that bad a judge of character?

Macbeth had his phone out. “I’m calling Maria. Get Luke.”

I nodded and dialled him, but the number was engaged. Shit. “Luke,” I said to his voice mail, “listen, this is very important. Call me
immediately
. I’m at the office. Sven has escaped and One has been killed and I’m pretty sure it was Alexa who did both. I found the deleted footage from the night Chris was killed. It was Alexa and Sven.” Macbeth was signalling to me. “Macbeth’s here with me… but…” I held the phone away from my ear and listened to him. “But he’s going to go and see if he can find Alexa. Maria’s on her way. I’m going to stay here. Get your arse up here ASAP!”

I ended the call. “You’ll be all right?” Macbeth asked.

“I don’t think One’s going to do me any harm.”

“They could come back.” He took something from inside his Puffa and handed it to me. A gun. “You know how to use this?”

I hesitated. Could I bluff it out?

No. I could not.

“Nine millimetre Beretta,” Macbeth said. “Semiautomatic. Just point and shoot.”

“How come you’re allowed a gun and I’m not?” I said, taking it and holding it gingerly.

Macbeth grinned. “Who said I was allowed? Safety catch is here. Don’t use it unless you have to. It’s fully loaded,” he said, going to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, and I was alone in the dark room.

I sat there for a while, my heart beating fast, trying to think of something to do. Alexa lived in town and Maria was going straight there. Macbeth was going to back her up. I was going to wait for Luke.

God, I was sick of waiting for Luke. My warrant card said I was a special agent. I had a gun, albeit unofficially. Yet here I was, waiting for someone more qualified than me to come and look after me. And look at how it turned out with the revolver. I’d been so damned scared of it I’d given it back.

I was pathetic.

I glared at the computer screen.

No, wait, there was something I could do.

I brought up the hotel reservations listing and found Wright’s B&B. Shit, it wasn’t far from where my parents lived. I’d been to school with the son of the owner. I dialled the number and waited for a long while as it rang out.

“Hello?” came a sleepy voice.

“I’m sorry for ringing so late. But I’m told my boss is staying with you? David Wright.”

“Yes. He checked in this afternoon.”

“Is he there?”

“Asleep, as far as I know.”

Excellent.

“I need to give him an urgent message. It’s very important that he gets this word for word and as soon as possible.”

“I’ll wake him up—”

“Just give him the message. They know about the deal. Meet me at the office.”

“That’s the message?”

“That’s it.”

“And your name?”

“Alexa Martin. He’ll know me. I’m his business partner.”

I was slightly scared Luke would turn up before Wright, but even if he did then I could say it was coincidence and get Luke to help me with the takedown. I could tell him the truth later. That I lured Wright here and handcuffed him to, erm, the desk while I got the important information out of him. Yeah.

I swiped open the door and left it ajar so he could come straight in. And he did. Completely alone. Calling out for Alexa.

I leapt out from my hiding place behind the desk and tackled him, every sore bone in my body crying out as we thudded to the floor. I had my gun ready and pointed at his head. I was doing fantastically until the door burst open and someone all in black yelled, “Freeze!” and aimed a gun at me.

I swung the pistol at him. “You freeze,” I yelled, at the same instant I took in the hazel eyes, the shiny hair, the expression of disbelief.

For a second or two we were locked like that, me straddling Wright, aiming at Harvey, while Harvey stood and aimed at me, our eyes on each other, neither quite believing what we saw. Of course, Harvey probably believed it less. I’d sort of guessed who he was; I’d be pretty surprised if he could reconcile “secret agent” and “drunken floozy” with each other.

Then Wright threw me off, moving with surprising agility for someone so large, and I fumbled to get the safety off and aim after him, but he shoved past Harvey, who rang out a shot, and vanished.

Harvey ran after him, but by the time I’d got outside, Wright had already driven away. Harvey fired after him but the car swerved and the bullet missed.

I grabbed the keys from my bag, letting the SO17 door swing shut and lock itself. At least I hope it locked itself. I jumped into Ted and gunned the engine, and to my amazement Harvey banged on the window to be let in.

“Don’t you have your own car?”

“Are you going after Wright?”

I nodded.

“Then we’ll go together. Two guns are better than one.” He’d hardly shut the door by the time I took off, rattling through the business park as fast as Ted would let me. “By the way, Sophie Green, who the hell are you?”

“I could ask the same question,” I said, swinging us around a corner, making Harvey wince.

“James Harvard, CIA,” he said, badging me. I only glanced at it for a second and pretty much had to take it on faith that the badge was real. But I’d pretty much figured him out earlier. He was part of exactly the same game as me.

“Damn,” I said, “Luke was right.” And also hysterically wrong.

“Luke?”

“He said you were James Harvard. He also said you were Wright’s partner…”

“Seriously?” He shook his head. “How do you even know about this Wright stuff? Who are you?”

“Sophie Green. I’m not a stewardess.”

“No shit.”

“I’m a secret agent.”

He laughed.

I swung a corner extra hard.

“No, really,” Harvey said, smile fading.

“Yes,” I glared at him, “really. There’s a badge in my bag. Well, a warrant card.”

He obviously didn’t believe me, because he looked through my bag for my wallet. “In here?”

“No, on the chain. With my BAA pass.”

“This says you’re a Passenger Service Agent.”

“That’s my day job.”

“Jesus.” He read my warrant card and seemed satisfied, if a little bewildered. “So you’re after this guy too?”

“We have reason to believe he’s involved in the murder of a hundred and forty-five people,” I said.

“A hundred forty-five?”

“Plane crash. Mostly. The other two—” we reached the exit and I craned to see which way he’d gone, before deciding on right, “—were people who got in the way. My boss was one of them.”

“And who’s your boss? I never heard of SO17.”

“Lot of people haven’t. We’re very small. Just me and Luke and a couple of others.” I glanced over at him. Black jeans and sweater, gun holstered openly at his side. “So why are you after Wright?”

“Fraud.”

“Gee, you Americans take fraud very seriously.”

“Didn’t you see
Catch Me If You Can
? He’s been skimming for years. Wrightbank made masses of money and Wright took most of it.”

“I thought that was the FBI, not the CIA.”

“He’s also been involved in some heavy-duty sabotage. You know he has a partner?”

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You know who it is?”

“Luke thinks it’s you.”

Harvey frowned at me, then his face cleared. “That’s why you turned up this afternoon!”

“Yep.”

“Were the cocktails part of the plan?”

“If you mention them again, I’ll have to shoot you.”

He grinned. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going after Wright. You can go where you like.”

“I don’t see him.”

“My car has many useful attributes. Amazing speed is not one of them.” Zero to sixty took a long while. Top speed meant waiting for next year.

“No, I mean I don’t see any sign of him. He’s not on the road.” Harvey twisted his head to peer far to the left. “What’s that over there?”

“Um, the motorway.”

“I mean on the other side.”

“The high school?”

“I see headlights.”

“Probably just some kids hiding out…”

“Would you go back to your high school to hide out?”

I wouldn’t go back to my high school if they sold Gucci. Half price.

I turned off the main road into the school grounds and cut my lights.

“Good thinking,” Harvey said, “but you still don’t have the quietest car in the world.”

I parked Ted up and we got out and headed over to the sports field. The ground was slick and muddy and I wished I was wearing something other than my pretty trainers. My pretty, ruined trainers.

“Damn,” I whispered.

“What?”

“I got mud in my shoe.”

“If that’s the worst thing that happens to you—”

He stopped because a bullet whistled past his head, and we both dropped to the ground. Now all my clothes were muddy. Great.

“Stay here,” Harvey whispered. “I’ll go see if I can get behind them.”

That was great, but I didn’t even know where they were, so behind them was going to be interesting. I watched him crawl away and lay there, cold and muddy, Macbeth’s gun in my hand, feeling very small and scared.

They were doing some building work on the other side of the field and there were a few huts set up on the edge of the site. I glanced over at them, and my heart stopped for a second. There were lights inside. I could see lights.

I edged away from the muddy field, staying low, my heart hammering. Hey, at least it was beating again. I thought I’d died for a second there. Wright knew we’d be following him. He knew we were both armed and now we knew he was, too. And there was a distinct possibility that he wasn’t alone.

Therefore what I did next might seem extremely foolish. But I think we’ve established by now that pretty much the only thing I’m really good at is being foolish, so I did it anyway. I crept and crawled through the shadows to the hut with the lights on, and when I got there, I saw Sven prowling round the outside with a gun.

God. I used to fancy him. Now he looked pale and deranged, and instead of having the Johnny Depp/Christian Slater cute maniac thing going on, he just looked damaged. And kind of scary.

I say kind of, because he still had vomit in his hair. Obviously he’d not been out of the cell that long.

I saw him stare in my direction for a long time, and my skin came up in goosebumps. It occurred to me that I could be in this totally alone—I wouldn’t know a real CIA badge if it came up and snogged me, for all I knew Harvey could have been hitching a ride with me back to his partner, Wright—and that what I really needed was Luke to turn up and save the day.

But Luke had no idea where I was and besides, how was I ever going to be a secret agent if I didn’t get off my arse and do some day-saving by myself?

I was just about to lift my gun and take a rather ill-advised shot at Sven, when I caught a movement behind him. There was someone following him. Someone svelte and stealthy, dressed in black, taking careful steps, a pistol raised. A woman.

Maria.

I let out a long breath of relief, which Sven must have heard because he suddenly swung his gun around in my direction and then there was a shot and I hit the ground, shaking.

It took me quite a while to realise that I was not the one who’d been shot. It took one more bullet report to convince me that I’d not been hit.