Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (32 page)

‘So what is it?’

Monty looked away, ‘Not yet, my old friend, not until I’ve proved it.’

‘Okay, if you’re sure, but we’d better get moving, so what’s first on the list?’

‘Well I must get back into Leonardo, I’ve some unfinished business in there.’

Frank gave him a wary look, ‘Okay, but don’t take any chances.’

‘I know, I am aware of the dangers, but what are your plans?’

‘I’d like to see the Minotaur area, if I can find the entrance to the master passage.’

Monty smiled, ‘Well I know that from the book, and it couldn’t be in a safer place, it’s right inside Leonardo.’

Driving through the jumble of the disused rail yard, Ted couldn’t help smiling when he saw Sammy relaxing back on the bonnet of his old V8 Rover, and when he brought Frank’s Range Rover to a growling halt, Sammy slid down and tossed his cigar butt away, and strolling over, kicked a rusty old beer can and sent it clattering and bouncing across the dirt and rubble, ‘Hi Ted. That’s some motor, is it for sale?’

Ted smiled, knowing well enough that Sammy had a passion for V8 cars, and it was himself who’d up-rated the engine in Sammy’s old saloon.

‘No, sorry, I’m delivering it to a friend. So, all set?’

‘Yeah, I reckon so, but I’ll tell you right now, I’m tooled-up the same as you, so if you’ve got a problem with that, you’d better spit it out.’

Ted looked him over, and although he hadn’t seen Sammy for well over a year, he hadn’t changed one bit, his handsome swarthy face was just the same while his dark eyes were only matched by the wild mass of jet black unruly hair.

‘Well, Sammy, let me put it this way, if it was anyone else I wouldn’t like it one little bit, but as it’s you, it’s just fine with me.’

Sammy gave him a lopsided grin, and then his pearl white teeth flashed in the sunlight.

‘Right answer, old buddy. Right answer. So where’s my dosh?’

Taking out a long brown envelope, Ted handed it over.

‘It’s all there, count it if you want to.’

Staring into Ted’s eyes, he weighed the envelope in the palm of his hand.

‘There’s no need for that, Ted Willis, I know where you live.’

Grinning at his joke, he slid the unopened envelope into his back pocket.

With the agreement settled, they got back into their cars, and driving out through the wasteland of the old rail yard, joined the road that would eventually take them all the way to the Sergeants Tavern.

Samantha drove her GTi turbo quickly and expertly along through the lanes that led to Angela’s security lodge, and bringing the car to a halt at the gates, looked across and saw the duty gamekeeper talking to a motorcycle courier, and when a package changed hands, he signed the courier’s notebook and the Honda Fire Blade roared away.

Tapping her fingertips rhythmically and impatiently on the steering wheel, she looked up to the twin stone eagles resting on the massive gate pillars, and they reminded her she was just about to enter Angela’s secluded and remote eerie.

Glancing down to her diplomatic bag, she wondered who she’d be sleeping with tonight, not that it really mattered when one man or woman was much the same as another, and at the end of the day, they only amounted to the next line on her bank statement.

It was just a living. Well, it was, if one didn’t think too much about it.

Checking her car number against his clipboard, the keeper sauntered over.

‘Hello. It’s Mrs French, isn’t it, how nice to see you again, and you are expected.’

‘Thanks. So open the gates will you, I’m in a hurry.’

Turning, he waved to the security office and the massive iron gates began to silently swing open, but the gamekeeper was looking down to the courier’s parcel in his hand.

‘Oh, Mrs French. Would you do me a favour, and give this to Mrs A.’

Angela was sorting through her paperwork when she heard tyres rumbling over the old stone bridge, and walking through to the lounge, checked the cabinet for drinks, but then she just stood there quietly, her dark thoughts running ever deeper.

For although she didn’t know it, the lovely Samantha French had suddenly become pivotal to her plans, and with the correct application of her charms, she might finally trap the thorn in her side, that Austrian bitch, Michaela Rattenegger.

Parking the car, Samantha dragged out her diplomatic bag, and glancing up, saw Angela just standing there motionless on the path like a frozen angel.

Taking a deep breath, she waved and walked on up, ‘Hi Angela.’

Smiling thinly, Angela looked at a woman who could seduce the Devil with her long curvaceous legs that swung her hips in an erotic dance while her breasts were just so full above a waist that was almost too slim to be true, and raven hair that swirled in a dazzling frame around a face so gorgeous she could almost be a mirage.

And Samantha was also such a perfectionist in her Diplomatic duties, that for years she’d persuaded the rich and powerful, men and women of this world that they were so desperate to fornicate with her they’d divulged their company and government secrets, and through their indiscretions the Forty had made their billions.

Struggling up through the last few yards, Samantha put the heavy bag down and stood while Angela gave her a distant hug and a noisy pretend kiss on both cheeks.

‘Sam, that bag looks heavy, so what have you got in there, the kitchen sink?’

She laughed, ‘It feels like it, but I wasn’t sure what I’d need, so I brought the lot.’

Angela smiled, ‘Well done, I knew I could rely on you, ever the professional.’

‘Thanks, but I always try my best.’

‘Yes indeed. Now come inside and have a drink, it’s too hot out here, so take your bag through to the lounge and I’ll bring the glasses.’

Sam took the bag through, and then Angela joined her, carrying chilled cut-glass goblets.

‘I know it’s early, but let’s be naughty. So what would you like to drink?’

‘A gin and tonic would be nice, my silly brain is still on far eastern time.’

Angela nodded, ‘So what delights have you brought us in your big heavy bag.’

‘Oh, just the same old favourites really, with a bit of updating here and there.’

‘Yes, it does pay to keep up to date. So what can you offer these days?’

‘Well I have various outfits. Nurse, schoolgirl, judge, police woman, traffic warden, space cadet, farm girl, the fairy outfit, pixie, whore, stripper, and of course, all the toys.’

‘My goodness, you do keep busy.’

Samantha half smiled, ‘It keeps me off the streets.’

‘Yes, I imagine it does. But did you mention a fairy outfit, that’s new isn’t it.’

She nodded, ‘And it’s quite cute actually, I’ve only recently put it together.’

‘And what inspired that?’

‘Well do you remember our target in Singapore, the old gentleman who’s influential with Sun Pok Industries? Well just recently on a trip to Paris, he found an interest in fairies.’

She laughed, ‘The mythological ones, not …’

Angela smirked, ‘Yes, I see what you mean, but you were saying.’

‘Well the old gentleman asked if I could design something appropriate, so I did.’

‘Good for you. So how do you use it, this new design?’

‘Well basically it’s gossamer, gold dust, wings, headband, a wand, and bare boobs sprinkled with angel dust, in fact the only difference to a fairy is that I wear stockings, suspenders and naughty knickers, but the shoes are similar.’

‘The shoes?’

‘Yes, I wear ballet shoes for the dance.’

‘Oh, I’m intrigued, so what is this dance?’

‘Tchaikovsky’s, The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker Suite, I’ve been practising, but it’s not what you’d call orthodox, it’s a porn version.’

‘My god. Well if you’re ever invited to perform at Covent Garden. Don’t …’

31

In quiet reflection, Angela thought how it never failed to surprise her that Cardinal’s philosophy, The Three Controls always seemed to hit the target, and just as simply as ABC. Acquisition. Blackmail. Control.

And now Samantha could make her dreams come true by bedding that ugly old witch, and with the extra enticement of the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, she’d think she’d died and gone to heaven.

‘Sam. I was just wondering about this little dance, so do you intend to slant the porn both ways, for women as well as men?’

‘Yes, that was the intention, to make it multi-functional.’

‘Good, I’d like to see it. So have you brought the music with you?’

‘It’s on CD if I can use your hi-fi.’

‘Of course, but don’t get dressed yet, we need to talk.’

Mixing fresh drinks, she decided to gradually unravel her proposals and see just how committed to the family, dear Samantha really was.

‘Here we are then. Well sit down and make yourself comfortable.’

Taking the glass, Samantha sat down and wondered what was coming.

‘Well as you know, I wanted you here for diplomatic duties, but it’s purely unofficial and must remain that way, understood?’

‘Of course. I guessed it might be rather delicate.’

‘Good, and if I can rely on you, a long term association might be possible, in fact, if you come on board in the way I want, it would suit my purpose if you became my personal and private, chief executive.’

Gulping as she tried to swallow, Samantha’s eyes suddenly came wide open.

Angela smiled at her reaction, ‘So would that suit you?’

She coughed, ‘Well yes … Most definitely … But …’

‘But what? Do you have reservations?’

‘No, none at all … But if I were to become your chief executive, would my duties be more than just diplomatic?’

Angela reached to the coffee table, and taking a cigarette, lit it slowly and thoughtfully before lounging back to blow smoke at the ceiling.

‘Samantha. Can I trust you?’

‘Well yes … Of course!’

‘No, Samantha. What I mean, is can I trust you?’

She frowned, ‘Sorry ma’am, I’m not sure I follow.’

‘You don’t? Well it’s quite simple. You see, if I only wanted a professional to entertain certain people here at the Bunker, I could have asked for any of my ladies, and any one of them would have done the job perfectly, whether it would be in bed, on top of the wardrobe or swinging by their tits from the chandelier.’

Confused, Samantha stayed quiet.

‘But you see, my requirement is far more than that, in fact, I would require total, unequivocal commitment from you in all its forms, and if you feel even slightly squeamish about that, this conversation will go no further.’

Samantha reached out to the cigarette box, ‘May I?’

‘Please do, after all, I would hate to be the only one to get lung cancer.’

Lighting the cigarette, Samantha realised that by accepting this offer she would be sailing into an unknown future. But there again, to remain as she was would be condemning herself to another five years of whoring around the world while Tim drank himself half to death and slid into even more depression. And to be free of that would be wonderful.

‘Angela. You’ve asked me twice if you can trust me, so do you want a chapter and verse explanation, or would a simple concise answer be sufficient?’

Angela looked hard into her eyes, and reaching forward, stubbed out the cigarette.

‘You can be as economical as you wish, so long as it’s not with the truth.’

‘Alright. Well I have no children, I’m not getting any younger, my marriage is a disaster and the only real family I have is Cardinal. So yes, you can trust me.’

Standing up, Angela pulled Samantha to her feet and kissed her full on the lips.

‘Then welcome to the Bunker. You now belong to me.’

Swiping the two men through the double doors, Evelyn felt all the worrying memories crowding back in on her, and even though she knew Anderton was dead, her heart still jumped at every twist and turn in the silent gloomy maze of the honey coloured labyrinth, and reaching Merlin’s sanctum, could only look through half lowered eyes at the brass nameplate on Dudley’s door, but Frank gently took her arm and eased her away into the blank passage that led to Leonardo.

Once through the blast doors they stripped in the cubicles and stood for the cameras, with Frank knowing all too well who would see the photo’s now, and dressing in the cotton overalls and slippers, they padded along to the airport style entrance gate.

When they were all safely through, Monty nudged Frank and pointed across.

‘The entrance to the master passage is immediately to your right, and it’s hidden behind that rather large painting of the Rose Marie.’

Turning, Frank looked at the huge magnificent oil painting of a trading ship in full sail.

She was running before the wind on the high seas, her many sails being full and billowed out by the storm, and while her wretched sailors clung on to the rigging for dear life, enormous waves came to crash over the decks as they tried to carry them away.

‘I noticed that painting before, it’s fabulous, but how do I get to the entrance?’

Monty pointed, ‘Put your fingers under the bottom of the frame, at the very centre, now lift the frame out gently, but only one inch, and you should hear a click.’

Frank did as he was told, and then came the dull click of a heavy solid mechanism.

‘Okay, so what now?’

‘Swing the bottom of the painting two inches to your left.’

Another click was heard, and as they watched, the painting began to silently swing out as if being moved by invisible hands, and then a truly wonderful oak tunnel was revealed, but only for it to disappear and vanish away into the honeyed gloom.

As Frank stared, he was hardly able to believe that anyone could have conceived such a feat of workmanship, let alone to build it with such perfection it still worked effortlessly all these years later, but he frowned as he looked at the heavy brass mechanism.

‘So how do I get out after the door’s shut behind me?’

‘Well as far as I remember, the mechanism rewinds itself with the closing of the door, so all you need to do, is lift the centre lever and the door will open again.’

He saw it, ‘Right. So I’ll see you both in half an hour.’

Frank stepped into the gloom, but as Monty began to swing the door shut, he stopped when another memory returned to him.

Frank saw the look on his face. ‘What’s wrong, Monty?’

‘Oh, it’s probably nothing, but Tara was afraid for us if we went into the passage.’

‘Afraid? Why? What did she say?’

‘She was afraid the monster would catch us, or in this case, catch you.’

Frank grinned, ‘The monster? Oh, come on, you’re joking aren’t you?’

‘There you are, you see, I knew you’d laugh, but she hasn’t been wrong so far.’

He stopped grinning, ‘Okay, so what’s this monster supposed to look like.’

‘She doesn’t know, she’s never seen it, but she’s certain it’s there.’

‘So how does she know it’s there, if she hasn’t seen it?’

‘It rumbles.’

‘Rumbles?’

‘Yes, from right under the house, not always, but sometimes, and there are footsteps climbing up a long wooden staircase, but they don’t go into the master passage, they go straight into the naughty area and she doesn’t hear them anymore.’

Thinking back to all the little secrets in Thornley’s amazing old house, he knew nothing should surprise him.

‘Okay. I’ll be careful.’

Samantha knew enough of the workings of Cardinal to realise there was no way back from this, and anyway, Angela’s kiss had sealed the matter once and for all.

Sitting her down in the study, Angela took the file from her desk and placed it in her lap.

‘Now then, I need to get you up to speed with this, and as quickly as possible.’

Step by step she took her through the chain of events to the present time, and sitting back, waited to see if Sam would understand the complexity of the case.

Wasting no time reading it through, Sam’s eyes shone with the intrigue of it all.

‘You said Glenndenning was mentioned in a letter by Mr Dudley, and by the other two deceased as Mr G, so now you have the password to the Sanderson file, have you cross checked to confirm who actually recruited her?’

Angela smiled, ‘My dear Samantha, your quick grasp of the situation is either amazing, or incredibly scary, but no matter. The answer to your clever question is a definite, yes. I checked the Sanderson file right after I spoke to you this morning.’

‘And was she? Was Sanderson recruited by Glenndenning?’

‘Correct.’

‘But if he’s proven to be the organiser, he has special protection as he’s also an advisor to the government, so doesn’t that make it rather awkward for us?’

‘It does indeed, and whether to cleanse, or not to cleanse, is a rather delicate conundrum. So what would you do as Chief Executive to the Director General of Cardinal?’

Samantha sat quietly for a moment, ‘Well as this investigation is officially sanctioned by the Chiefs of Staff, I would recommend that Montague and Lewis should be allowed to try and recover the file, and then cleanse Glenndenning regardless of any political fall-out.’

Angela took a deep breath, ‘And that, my dear, is precisely why I wanted you with me, because I need someone who’s not afraid to make difficult decisions when I’m not here.’

‘Well I have made hard decisions before, and not all of them were horizontal.’

Angela smiled, ‘No doubt you have, but for now I’ve made a short list of priorities, and to start with, there’s someone who requires our immediate attention.’

‘Oh, and who’s that?’

‘Simon Harris. He’ll be one of your first assignments.’

‘Simon Harris? Do I know him? The name seems vaguely familiar.’

‘Well you might have seen his name, he’s one of the senior technicians at Thornley, and unfortunately for dear Simon, he’s learnt far too much about Cardinal.’

‘Oh dear. So is he to be cleansed?’

‘No, I must be getting soft. You see, Simon was quite helpful, so it might be sufficient if the clinic were to diagnose an acute case of stress disorder, then have him admitted and put on a high dose of anti-depressants, and when he’s dependant on the stuff we can retire him on medical grounds as psychologically disturbed.’

Samantha held back a grimace, ‘Okay. Anything else?’

Angela’s eyes narrowed, ‘Yes. There’s a bitch who needs immediate attention.’

‘And who’s that?’

‘Tara Goodwin, and if you remember from the update, she’s the spy MI5 infiltrated into Thornley, and although Mr Lewis thinks she’s innocent, I do not agree, which is why I’ve provisionally instructed my Special Operator to be aware of this target.’

Wandering over to the window, she gazed down to the stream and thought of Frank.

‘But it’s annoying, I wanted to confirm the target today but the little vixen has left Thornley and hasn’t been seen since, but never mind, I’ll issue the order regardless, and it will be up to her to follow it through. So read this, code it and send it off immediately.’

Taking the note from her pocket, Angela handed over the instruction, and as Samantha scanned over the page, she committed the details to memory.

Attn DC,

Immediate Action.

Target. Female (Sorry). Tara Goodwin.

Normal Target Location. Thornley Manor. (Target off location at present time)

Instruction. Find and cleanse on sight, as and when, soonest.

Best wishes.

A.

It was busy at Sheverill’s farm, with Martha furiously cleaning the kitchen, Arthur lighting the range, re-stocking the wine and fetching fresh fruit and vegetables, and then came a pattering of bare feet as Lucinda skipped down the staircase and into the kitchen.

‘Good morning, everyone, and isn’t it quite simply the most glorious day imaginable.’

Arthur looked over, ‘Yes ma’am, and I reckon it could be a hot one later.’

Martha gave a sigh of relief at her lady’s happy chatter, and scuttling across the kitchen, reached the percolator as Lucinda came across, her long creamy bathrobe swirling around her in a happy dance.

‘I’ve made fresh coffee, ma’am, if you’d like some.’

‘Oooo yes, I could drink a gallon, but where’s my Chrissy?’

Martha poured her a mug of coffee, ‘Well she’s the early bird today and gone off down the garden with her coffee, so she’ll be in the summer house, likely as not.’

Lucinda smiled, her fierce eyes glinting wickedly as thoughts of last evening returned.

‘Well she’s probably just relaxing after our exciting evening.’