“We sold it,” said Larsson. “We had to.”
Carver calmed down for a moment as he accepted the truth of what Larsson had said. Then a look close to horror crossed his face, and he dashed off into the kitchen.
“Christ, you didn’t…”
Larsson hurried after him. “Didn’t what?”
“It’s okay…”
Carver was standing by the kitchen island. The wine racks were empty. The low-level built-in fridge had been taken from its housing. All that was left was the carcass. But he didn’t seem too bothered by that.
“I suddenly thought you might have sold the kitchen units,” he said.
Larsson grinned for the first time that night.
“Who’d buy that shit?”
Now it was Carver’s turn to smile, if only for a moment. He leaned down and reached inside the wine rack, in the middle of the second row, three spaces along. He grimaced for a second as his fingers groped blindly, and then his smile reappeared as they found their target.
“Watch,” he said.
There was a barely audible humming sound. Larsson looked in amazement as the center of the granite work surface rose from the island. Its smooth ascent revealed a metal frame, within which was fitted a large plastic toolbox, arranged in half a dozen clear plastic-fronted trays of varying depths.
“Unbelievable!” Larsson gasped.
“Looks like my kit is still in one piece then,” said Carver. He was calming down, reassured by familiar surroundings and the presence of the toolbox.
“Okay, the top two trays should be filled with regular gear…”
He opened it up to reveal a thick pad of charcoal-gray foam, within which a series of custom-cut openings housed a selection of immaculately shiny wrenches, screwdrivers, saws, and hammers. The second tray was devoted to miniature power tools and soldering irons.
“It’s all there,” he said. “Next two trays, I think, are gadgets, electronics, that kind of stuff.”
Larsson sighed contentedly as a selection of timers, detonators, brake and accelerator overrides, and radio remote controls were presented to view.
“Oh, yeah, I recognize some of these babies. Nice to know you gave them such a good home.”
“Okay, next down there should be…”
Larsson was confronted with blocks of plastique and thermite.
“And finally…”
Carver slid open the last, deepest tray. It contained a Heckler & Koch MP5K short-barreled submachine gun, with a suppressor and three magazines, plus a SIG Sauer P226 with the same essential accessories. Larsson gave a knowing nod. Both weapons were standard equipment for British Special Forces.
“There’s something else,” said Carver.
He pulled the toolbox out of its housing and placed it on the floor in front of him. Then he got down on his haunches. The lid of the toolbox was a couple of inches deep. He lifted it to reveal another compartment, inside the lid itself, accessed via a hinged plastic hatch. He opened that to reveal a fat, padded brown envelope, roughly twelve by eighteen inches.
“Little did you know…” he said.
Carver took out the envelope and shut the hatch again. Then he removed the SIG, the suppressor, and two magazines from the bottom tray. He closed up the toolbox, keeping it on the floor as he pressed the button inside the wine rack again. The empty housing disappeared back down into the island. Carver put the envelope and the gun back on top of the work surface.
“That got money in it?” asked Larsson, nodding at the envelope. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite so cheery.
“Yeah.”
“Enough to pay the bills?”
“Easily.”
“And you remembered about it when, exactly?”
There was a bitter, sarcastic edge to the words.
“A few weeks ago, pretty soon after I started coming around.”
“So you didn’t need her money at all, then?”
“Sure I did. As long as it was coming through, I knew she was still alive.”
Larsson was forced to accept the logic of Carver’s argument. But he had a legitimate grievance of his own.
“You owe me, too. More than twenty thousand bucks.”
Carver nodded silently. He reached in the envelope and took out an ornately engraved document. It was a fifty- thousand-dollar bearer bond, registered to a Panamanian corporation and signed by him on the reverse. Effectively, it was as good as cash. He gave it to Larsson.
