Lethal Profit (26 page)

She took her phone and went out into the corridor of the carriage.

‘Hello?'

‘Dad, it's Eva.'

‘Eva. Where are you?'

‘I've been away on holiday. Dad, I was wondering if I could ask you a favour.'

‘No problem.' Eva heard the sound of liquid being poured from bottle to glass.

‘Are you still in contact with Irene Hunt?'

There was silence on the other end of the phone and the liquid-pouring stopped.

‘Dad, are you still there?'

‘Is this a trick question, Eva?'

‘No, I need to speak to her.'

‘I won't have all this resurrected again.'

‘It's got nothing to do with you any more.'

‘Eva, I made a mistake. One mistake. Why must you bring all this up yet again?'

For a moment Eva hesitated and the confusion she had felt for years reared up once again. She loved her father, he was a good man. But he had betrayed them and no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she had forgiven him, she wasn't sure that some small piece of resentment didn't still lie buried.

However, she didn't want to behave like a child, raking up the past because she wasn't mature enough to move on. Was she doing this for the right reasons? Was there a better alternative?

No, Eva reasoned, there was no alternative.

‘Doesn't she work in intelligence?'

‘You know she does.'

‘Dad, it's important. Please, I can't explain, I just need to make contact with her, I need her address.'

Eva could almost hear her father's mind working on the other end of the phone. Since her mother died, they rarely probed into each other's lives in too much detail, but still it must have sounded like a bizarre and slightly ludicrous request out of the blue.

‘I haven't seen or spoken to her since… since I promised you that it was over. I don't break my word, Eva. Especially not after what it did to your mother.' He sounded so sad.

Eva felt the gentle poke of guilt. She spoke more softly this time. ‘Dad, this is not about you. I promise I'm not about to do anything stupid. What is there left to say anyway?'

After some hesitation her father left the phone and returned with Irene Hunt's address. ‘I don't even know if she still lives there. Eva, can't you tell me what this is about?'

‘No Dad, I can't.'

‘Eva… '

‘Look Dad, I'm an adult now and I know that there isn't an age where you just wake up and start getting everything right, even when you're a parent. You did your best with what you had at the time. We're all just human.'

She had thrown several self-help slogans at him and she knew it sounded slightly forced.

‘Eva, I never wanted to let you down…'

‘I know.'

‘If I could go back…'

‘I know,' she said again. And then it dawned on Eva that perhaps she really did know what that kind of guilt felt like and just maybe she really could forgive him.

Irene Hunt however was another matter.

Leon was awake when she returned to her seat, looking refreshed and alert, drinking a large black coffee and reading the paper she had left behind.

‘Where did you go?'

‘I went to phone my dad.'

‘Why?' As always, he sounded very suspicious.

‘I got an address for Irene Hunt.'

As John Mansfield MP put down the phone, his heart began to hammer; an emergency briefing for all members of the cabinet about the algae situation. The country had been put on high alert and the armed forces mobilised to deal with any civil unrest that could ensue if the public somehow discovered just how dire the situation was. Everything was beginning to fall apart, he thought to himself. There was no question in his mind that the algae epidemic must be connected to the Bioavancement S.a.r.l. algae plants that he had personally shepherded into the country. Before long the link to him would no doubt be discovered and he would be made the scapegoat for the entire crisis, as was the way with contemporary politics.

He forced himself to remain controlled. Now was the time to be calm and manufacture himself an escape route. As far as he knew, no one had yet made a solid connection between Bioavancement S.a.r.l., him personally and the algae emergency but he was sure that by the end of the day they would have. He glanced at his watch and then slowly began to pack his briefcase. Soon he could be called to the PM to justify the decision to associate with Bioavancement S.a.r.l.. He had prepared and rehearsed his speech for weeks. Given the situation with the algae and the fact that he had known that the algae arrived in the UK before the proper licences and approvals had been granted, he would, of course, be in for quite a grilling. But he had severed any possible ties that could connect him to the company as an insider so he would claim innocent incompetence rather than intentional deception and then offer himself up as a sacrifice. The PM could bundle this whole disaster up and hang it around Mansfield's neck – the ease of that solution would appeal to him. When it came to preserving his identity, only the other stakeholders in the project knew in what way he was tied in and they would no sooner want to identify themselves with this crisis than he did. He would no doubt be sacked from his cabinet post but he didn't expect there to be any further consequences. If there was no proof of anything other than stupidity how could they do anything more to him? After that he would quietly slip away, the apparent victim of a freak boating accident, his body lost at sea. The Bioavancement S.a.r.l. payment was large enough to last him for the rest of his life in a country that did not have an extradition treaty with the UK.

When they arrived at St Pancras International, any sense of safety they had felt during the journey on the isolated train quickly vanished. In the crowds at the station they were pushed, shoved and poked by evening commuters and their luggage. Every hand felt like a sharp knife and every elbow was a blow of some kind. It didn't help that Eva's body was now a mass of bruises from where she had been physically pushed around at various times during the last week.

They decided to take the underground to the address Eva's father had given them. Eva could really have done without the commuter crush, which did nothing for her nerves, but in a way the normality of the lives continuing all around them was comforting.

Eva noticed Leon suddenly becoming quite protective of her, shielding her with his body when too many people tried to board the train at one station and pushing his way through to a seat so that she could sit down. She didn't want his help and she tried to make it clear that she didn't need it, but he seemed to be motivated to do it regardless.

As they came out of the station at Warwick Avenue the near-deserted area set them both on edge. They had five broad Maida Vale roads to walk across before they would reach Irene Hunt's house and no idea whether she would even be there when they arrived – or if she even lived there any more.

Leon – who had memorised the route they had to take from the map on his phone – guided them across the road and they started walking uphill, taking a right at the next corner and then crossing again onto the road that would lead them to their destination. The pavements were wide and the houses huge with grand interiors. The darkness around them was misty and cold and the orange light of the street lamps provided the perfect setting for an anonymous drive by.

Eva focused on keeping pace with Leon's wide strides.

When they were just two streets from the road where Irene Hunt lived, Eva heard a car start to slow behind them. She forced herself to keep walking but glanced briefly over at Leon.

‘Keep walking,' he said in a low voice and took a quick glance over his left shoulder towards the road. Apparently not feeling the need to share whatever he saw, he picked up his pace ever so slightly and continued to power forward. Suddenly, without warning, he pulled Eva inside an open front gate of one of the Maida Vale mansions and flipped her around so that he was standing with his back to the approaching car as if he had just taken the opportunity to kiss his girlfriend. Eva stood rigid in his arms, hardly breathing. Their faces were touching, noses, lips and one cheekbone skin on skin. She looked over his shoulder at the car behind his back. She felt his hand move at his side and saw the metallic glint of a gun as he took it from the waistband of his trousers. God only knew how he had got that through customs.

Eva's heart was pounding.

‘Leon… ' She started to speak. Suddenly he kissed her, apparently to stop her saying anything more. Her eyes opened with surprise. Unexpectedly she didn't feel the urge to pepper spray him. The car passed and he pulled back and released her. They stood still for several seconds as they heard the car driving away and then turned and resumed their original path. Further up the street, the car stopped and appeared to ask another young couple for directions.

J
OHN
M
ANSFIELD
ALLOWED
HIMSELF
an unprecedented afternoon snifter of the vintage cognac the CEO had so kindly dispatched to him that was worth more than most people's cars. He tried to relax back into the plump cushioning of his antique armchair at home and took a deep draught of the amber liquid in his glass. The rich smell filled his nose as the warmth spread from his throat to his chest and the golden drops made their way down to his stomach. Even in the midst of a crisis there were some things that one had to stop and savour. He glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece: 4pm. The CEO had asked him to call exactly on the hour. He had not been expecting more contact – there was supposed to be no more communication between them for fear of risking Mansfield's escape route. He suspected it might be an apology for the situation with the algae – which had not been part of the deal – but he was not entirely sure what was about to happen. This made him rather anxious; he was nervous enough as it was after the earlier phone briefing about the algae, even though he had managed to put off seeing the PM until the morning.

Mansfield delicately deposited the brandy glass back down on the largest of the nest of walnut wood coffee tables his mother had insisted he buy for the house when he'd made the mistake of inviting her over for tea one weekend. He stood and walked over to the desk. From his briefcase, positioned just underneath the enormous leather-topped desk, he extracted a phone that contained just one number.

‘You're prompt.'

‘I try to be.'

‘I appreciate you calling me, I know the risks.' The CEO's voice was utterly expressionless; Mansfield could glean nothing from his tone.

‘It's not a problem.'

Mansfield waited. The CEO would never be rushed and Mansfield was too in awe of the man to push him.

‘We are cutting you loose, John.'

Mansfield felt his throat begin to close up. ‘I… I'm sorry?'

‘Cutting you loose. We can't honour the contract.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘We no longer have need of you.'

‘But everything is done. All that is left is for you to make the payment. I have done everything you asked of me.' The words were tumbling out now; millions of pounds were slipping from his fingertips.

‘John, please be calm. We wouldn't be cutting you loose if you couldn't handle it. You will be fine.'

‘But I will lose my job, Daniel. I've already offered myself up as a scapegoat as we planned; the axe is about to fall.'

‘I'm sorry, John, but we won't be honouring the payment because we don't have it. The project has been compromised.'

‘How?'

‘An information leak. A girl called Eva Scott.'

‘Who?'

‘It doesn't matter. We must focus all our resources on locating her and trying to salvage something from this situation.'

‘I don't understand why this is being laid at my door. I didn't even know that the algae would spread like this – you have left me in an impossible position!'

‘The decision has been made.'

The line went dead.

Mansfield stopped and looked at the phone. It made absolutely no sense. Either they had never intended to pay him the vast amount of money he had staked his entire life on or something had genuinely happened with this girl that had ruined the project. Either way what could he do? Yes, they had a agreement but he could hardly enforce it in a court of law. Mansfield leaned forward on his desk, his head in his hands.

When they finally arrived at Irene Hunt's house, jogging most of the rest of the way, Eva was relieved to see lights in all the windows. They let themselves in via a large wooden gate at the front, walked through a small garden surrounded by a high wall and then climbed four steps before ringing the front doorbell. The door was opened by a tall, angular man with thinning hair and a rangy, athletic figure.

‘Yes?'

‘I'm looking for Irene Hunt.'

He frowned. ‘May I ask who you are?'

Eva hesitated. Should she reveal her identity? The man seemed to pick up on her hesitation and moved to try and close the door. Immediately, Leon jammed his foot in it and then pushed it open, knocking the man backwards.

Eva stepped forward. ‘Look, I'm sorry,' she said smiling and hoping that Leon would just stay behind her. ‘My name is Eva Scott.'

Immediately, the man's face hardened in recognition as he picked himself up from the spot on which he had fallen.

‘What do you want?'

‘I want to see Irene Hunt.'

‘I very much doubt she will want to see you.'

‘It's not what you think. Really. I just want to talk to her about something – something completely unconnected to… what happened.'

The man took a step back towards the open door and glanced nervously at Leon.

‘Please,' said Eva.

He looked at her. ‘OK. But he stays outside.'