False Impression (23 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Revenge, #General, #Art thefts, #Suspense fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Missing persons, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: False Impression
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Anna asked her
driver – as she now thought of Sergei – to take her back to the same block of
flats they’d visited the previous day. Anna would have liked to call and warn
her mother what time to expect her, but it wasn’t possible because Elsa
Petrescu didn’t approve of phones. They were like elevators, she’d once told
her daughter: when they break down, no one comes to repair them, and in any
case they create unnecessary bills. Anna knew her mother would have risen by
six to be sure everything, in her already spotless flat, had been dusted and polished
for a third time.

When Sergei
parked at the end of the weed-strewn path of the Piazza Resitei, Anna told him
that she expected to be about an hour, and then wanted to go to Otopeni
airport. Sergei nodded.

A taxi drew up
beside him. Jack strolled round to the driver’s side, and motioned for him to
wind down the window.

‘Do you speak
English?’

‘A little,’ said
the driver hesitantly.

Jack opened his
map and pointed to Piazza Resitei, before taking a seat behind die driver. The taxi
driver grimaced in disbelief, and looked up at Jack to double-check. Jack
nodded. The driver shrugged his shoulders and set out on a journey no tourist
had ever requested before.

The taxi slipped
out into the middle lane and both of them checked the rear-view mirror. Another
taxi was following them.

There was no
sign of any passenger, but then she wouldn’t have sat in the front. Had he lost
her, or was she in one of three taxis he could now see in the rear-view mirror?
She was a pro, she’d be in one of those taxis, and he had the feeling she knew
exactly where he was going.

Jack knew that
every major city has its run-down districts, but he had never experienced
anything quite like Berceni, with its grim, high-rise concrete blocks that
littered every corner of what could only be described as a desolate slum. Even
the graffiti would have been frowned on in Harlem.

The taxi was
already slowing down when Jack spotted another yellow Mercedes parked by the
kerb a few yards ahead of them, in a street that hadn’t seen two taxis in the
same year.

‘Drive on,’ he
said sharply, but the tad continued to slow. Jack tapped the driver firmly on
the shoulder and waved frantically forward to suggest he should keep going.

‘But, this is
place you ask for,’ insisted the driver.

‘Keep moving,’
shouted Jack.

The puzzled
driver shrugged his shoulders and accelerated past the stationary taxi.

‘Turn at the
next corner,’ said Jack, pointing left. The driver nodded, now looking even
more perplexed. He awaited his next instruction. ‘Turn back round,’ Jack said
slowly, ‘and stop at the end of the road.’

The driver
carried out his new instruction, continually glancing back at Jack, the
perplexed expression never leaving his face.

Once he’d
parked, Jack got out of the car and walked slowly to the corner, cursing his
unforced error. He wondered where the woman was, because she clearly hadn’t
made the same mistake.

He should have
anticipated that Anna might already be there, and her only form of transport
was likely to be a taxi.

Jack stared up
at the grey concrete block where Anna was visiting her mother, and swore he’d
never complain about his cramped one-bedroom apartment on the West Side ever
again. He had to wait another forty minutes before Anna emerged from the
building. He remained still as she walked back down the path to her taxi.

Jack jumped back
into his own cab and, pointing frantically, said, ‘Follow them, but keep your
distance until the traffic is heavier.’ He wasn’t even sure that the driver
understood what he said. The taxi drove out of the side road, and although Jack
kept tapping the driver’s shoulder and repeating, ‘Hold back,’ the two yellow
cabs must have looked like camels in a desert as they drove through the empty
streets. Jack cursed again, knowing he was burnt. Even an amateur would have
spotted him by now.

‘You do realize
that someone is following you?’ Sergei said, as he drove off.

‘No, but I’m not
surprised,’ Anna replied, but she still felt cold and sick now that Sergei had
confirmed her worst fear. ‘Did you get a look at them?’ she asked.

‘Only a
glimpse,’ Sergei replied. ‘A man, around thirty, thirty five, slim, dark hair,
not much else, I’m afraid.’ So Tina was wrong when she thought the stalker was
a woman, was Anna’s first reaction. ‘And he’s a professional,’ added Sergei.

“What makes you
say that?’ asked Anna anxiously.

When the taxi
passed me, he didn’t look back,’ said Sergei.

‘Mind you, I
can’t tell you which side of the law he’s on.’

Anna shivered,
as Sergei checked his rear-view mirror. ‘And I’m pretty sure he’s following us
now, but don’t look round,’ said Sergei sharply, ‘because then he’ll know
you’ve spotted him.’

“Thank you,’
said Anna.

‘Do you still
want me to take you to the airport?’

‘I don’t have
any choice,’ Anna replied.

‘I could lose
him,’ said Sergei, ‘but then he would know that you were on to him.’

‘Not much
point,’ said Anna. ‘He already knows where I’m going.’

Jack always
carried his passport, wallet and credit card with him in case of just such an
emergency. ‘Damn,’ he
said,
when he saw the sign for
the airport and remembered his unpacked suitcase sitting in the hotel room.

Three or four
other taxis were also heading in the direction of Otopeni airport, and Jack
wondered which one the woman was in, whether she was already at the airport and
booked on the same flight as Anna Petrescu.

Anna handed
Sergei a twenty-dollar bill, long before they’d reached Otopeni, and told him
which flight she was booked to return on.

“Would you be
able to pick me up?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’
promised Sergei, as he came to a halt outside the international terminal.

‘Is he still
following us?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes,’ Sergei
replied, as he jumped out of the car.

A porter
appeared, and helped load the crate and her suitcase onto a trolley.

‘I’ll be here
when you return,’ Sergei assured Anna, before she disappeared into the
terminal.

Jack’s cab
screeched to a halt behind the yellow Mercedes. He leapt out and ran towards
the driver’s window, waving a ten-dollar bill. Sergei wound the window down
slowly and took the proffered money. Jack smiled.

‘The lady in
your cab, do you know where she’s going?’

‘Yes,’ replied
Sergei, stroking his thick moustache.

Jack peeled off
another ten-dollar bill, which Sergei happily pocketed.

‘Well, where?’
demanded Jack.

‘Abroad,’ replied
Sergei, put the car into first gear and drove off.

Jack cursed, ran
back to his own cab, paid the fare – three dollars – and walked quickly into
the airport. He stood still while checking in every direction. Moments later he
spotted Anna leaving the check-in counter and heading towards the escalator. He
didn’t move again until she was out of sight. By the time he had reached the
top of the escalator, Anna was already in the cafe. She’d taken a seat in the
far corner from where she could observe everything and, more important,
everybody. Not only was he being followed, but now the person he was following
was also looking out for him.

She had already
mastered being a tool, so she could identify her target. Jack feared that this
could end up as a case study at Quantico on how not to trail a suspect.

He retraced his
steps back down to the ground floor and checked the departure board. There were
only five international flights out of Bucharest that day: Moscow, Hong Kong,
New Delhi,

London
and Berlin.

Jack dismissed
Moscow, as it was due to depart in forty minutes and Anna was still in the
cafe. New Delhi and Berlin weren’t scheduled to leave until the early evening,
and he also considered Hong Kong unlikely, although it departed in just under
two hours, while the London flight was fifteen minutes later. It had to be
London, he decided, but he still couldn’t take the risk. He would purchase two
tickets, one for Hong Kong, and a second for London. If she didn’t appear at
the departure gate for Hong Kong, he would board the flight to Heathrow. He
wondered if her other pursuer was considering the same options, although he had
a feeling she already knew which flight Anna was on.

Once Jack had
purchased both tickets, and explained twice that he had no luggage, he headed
straight for Gate 33 to carry out
a point
surveillance. When he arrived, he took a seat among those passengers who were
waiting at Gate 31 for the departure of their flight to Moscow. Jack even gave
a moment’s thought to going back to the hotel, packing his bags, paying the
bill and then returning to the airport, but only a moment’s thought, because if
the choice was between losing his bags or losing his quarry, it wasn’t much of
a choice.

Jack called the
hotel manager at the Bucharesti International on his cellphone, and without
going into any detail explained what he needed doing. He could imagine the
puzzled expression on the manager’s face when he asked for his bags to be
packed and left in reception. However, his suggestion that they add twenty dollars
to his bill elicited the response, ‘I’ll deal with it personally, sir.’

Jack began to
wonder if Anna was simply using the airport as a decoy, while actually planning
to return to Bucharest and pick up the red crate. He certainly couldn’t have
acted in a more unprofessional manner when he chased after her driver. But if
she had worked out that someone was following her, as an amateur her first
reaction would have been to try and lose her pursuer as quickly as possible.
Only a professional would consider such a devious ploy when trying to shake
someone off. Was it possible that Anna was a professional, and still working
for Fenston? In which case, was he the one being pursued?

Flight 3211 to
Moscow was already boarding when Anna strolled by. She looked relaxed as she
took her place among those waiting to board Cathay Pacific flight 017 to Hong
Kong. Once she was seated in the lounge, Jack slipped back down to the
concourse and kept out of sight while he waited for the final call of flight
017.

Forty minutes
later, he ascended the escalator a third time.

All three of
them boarded the Boeing 747 bound for Hong Kong, at different times.
One in first class, one in business and one in economy.

30

‘I
’m sorry to
interrupt you, m’lady, but a large box of documents has been delivered by
Simpson and Simpson, and I wondered where you wished me to put it.’

Arabella put
down her pen and looked up from the writing desk. ‘Andrews, do you remember
when I was a child and you were second butler?’

‘I do, m’lady,’ said
Andrews, sounding somewhat puzzled.

‘And every
Christmas we used to play a game called Hunt the Parcel?’

“We did indeed,
m’lady.’

‘And one
Christmas you hid a box of chocolates. Victoria and I spent an entire afternoon
trying to find them – but we never did.’

‘Yes,
m’lady.
Lady Victoria accused me of eating them and burst into tears.’

‘But you still
refused to tell her where they were.’

‘That is
correct, m’lady, but I must confess your father promised me sixpence if I
didn’t reveal where they were hidden.’

Why did he do
that?’ asked Arabella.

‘His lordship
hoped to spend a peaceful Christmas afternoon, enjoying a glass of port and a
leisurely cigar, happy in the knowledge that you were both fully occupied.’

‘But we never
found them,’ said Arabella.

‘And I was never
paid my sixpence,’ said Andrews.

‘Can you still
recall where you hid them?’

Andrews
considered the question for a few moments, before a smile appeared on his face.

Tes, m’lady,’ he
said, ‘and for all I know, they are still there.’

‘Good, because I
should like you to put the box that Simpson and Simpson have just delivered in
the same place.’

‘As you wish,
m’lady,’ said Andrews, trying to look as if he had some idea what his mistress
was talking about.

‘And next
Christmas, Andrews, should I attempt to find them, you must be sure not to let
me know where they are hidden.’

‘And will I
receive sixpence on this occasion, m’lady?’

‘A shilling,’
promised Arabella, ‘but only if no one else finds out where they are.’

Anna settled
herself into a window seat at the back of economy. If the man Fenston had sent
to track her down was on the plane, as she suspected he was, at least Anna now
knew what she was up against. She began to think about him, and how he’d
discovered that she would be in Bucharest. How did he know her mother’s
address, and was he already aware that her next stop was Tokyo?

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