'So Liv doesn't have to sit down and feel under the bench every time to check it. If the loaded sign the marker-pen line isn't there, she knows that a message isn't, either. Otherwise she'll look just a bit suspicious on Wednesday, won't she, sitting in the same place every hour on the hour?'
He nodded thoughtfully. 'Tell you what, she could sit next to me every hour on the hour, know what I mean?'
I smiled. If the two women at the airport would have had him for breakfast, Liv would probably chew him up and spit him out without looking up from her newspaper.
We were closing the gap toward the bus station doors when they all opened at once and a busload of people surged toward us, dragging their skis and luggage behind them.
Thirty feet short of the doors was a bank of four phones fixed to the wall, divided by polished-wood booths. We stood against the nearest one, letting the bus party pass with a rumble of suitcase wheels and excited conversation.
'See here?' I said.
'Yeah, you want me to mark?' He started to wave his finger.
'Hey, Tom, in spy land nobody points.' I pushed his hand down and tried not to laugh. 'But yes, that's right, mate, a mark. But a line, a nice thick line. Make sure you pretend to be on the phone and make sure they' I nodded toward the flower shop opposite 'don't see you.'
Tom's eyes followed mine. 'I get it, but you'll tell me what to say in the letter, yeah?'
'Of course. Now let's go and get cold.'
We walked out through the bus station, a large square concourse littered with sheltered stops.
Once onto the pavement we cut half right in the direction of Stockmann.
I handed Tom 2,000 Finnish marks from the wad I'd got from the money changer. It worked out at about six marks a dollar. He thought he was rich; his eyes shone or maybe they were starting to be affected by the cold as we walked along cobblestoned streets. The rumble of tires and metallic rhythm of the streetcar wheels meant we had to speak louder than normal.
'Tom, I want you to give me your passport and wallet for safekeeping.
I've got an idea for a little extra insurance, but listen, this is between you and me. It's not that I don't trust her, but better safe than sorry, eh?'
'Nice one, Nick. Makes me feel better.'
He handed them over without questioning. It made me feel suddenly more responsible for him.
'Besides, we want to travel light tomorrow night.'
You could tell Stockmann was Finland's top people's store by the line of large black or dark-blue cars outside with their engines running, waiting for their V.I.P passengers to come out and load up their Christmas shopping. When we got closer, it was clear who the cars belonged to. Large men with no necks and square heads were waiting beside them. It looked as though the hit on Val last week, was making Mr. and Mrs. Mafia a bit nervous.
A group of heavies came out just as we approached the main entrance, surrounding a very young, beautiful blonde, who was wearing more fur than a grizzly. For a moment I thought it was Liv.
A limo door opened for her, and the three-car convoy zoomed off up the street.
Tom and I walked through large double doors straight into the perfume department. A little further on, in the luggage department, I picked up two small weekend bags, one dark green and one black, from a display, and two heavy car blankets.
Tom had his big wad of money clasped firmly in his hand and was looking happy. It was time to say my goodbyes.
'I've got things to do, Tom. Insurance.' I tapped the side of my nose and winked. His big hamster cheeks beamed back. 'I'll see you in the coffee shop in about forty-five minutes. Just get yourself some good warm clothes, the sort of stuff I told you about, all right?'
'Yeah, yeah, no drama. Hey Nick, when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.' He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.
I clapped his shoulder. 'Remember, get a decent coat and boots. And by the way, if Liv turns up before I get there, just tell her I'm shopping, too.'
I could see he couldn't be bothered to ask why, he just wanted to get spending.
'No drama. See yer.'
Back in the cold, I took out my new bags and bulked them out with the blankets. Then I headed for the bus station again. I went past the telephones into Europe's most expensive rest rooms. It cost me over a buck to sit down in one of the stalls so I could get out the money from my organizer wallet what was left of the twenty-five grand in $100 bills which I'd brought with me. I removed four grand and then placed the wallet, plus my own documents and Davidson's, into the dark-green bag. You never know when even a burned ID can come in useful. Tom's documents and $3,000 went into the black bag, and I slipped the remaining grand into my pocket. I then dumped both at the luggage lockers and looked for a decent hiding place for the two tickets our own little DLB some-where that Tom would find easy enough to remember.
I went into one of the shops and picked up a computer magazine with a plastic sleeve holding a free CD- Rom. I was in line at the checkout when I saw her.
Liv was standing by the doors to the trains. The man she was with was very smartly dressed in a long camel-hair coat, shirt and tie. She was looking quite dolled up herself, in a black overcoat she hadn't been wearing earlier. It must have been in the back of the Mere 4x4.
I ducked out of the line as if I'd had second thoughts about the magazine, and went back to browsing the racks, watching Liv and her man out of the corner of my eye. They were in each other's arms, their faces just inches apart and talking away. They were doing their best to look like two lovers saying their goodbyes but it wasn't quite working. There were times when they cuddled, but they weren't talking to each other, they were talking at each other. I'd done this enough times myself to know what was going on.
They held each other and talked for a little while longer, then he pulled slightly away from her. He was in his early thirties, with short brown hair, and looked quite the young trendy businessman.
She turned away, heading for the bus station exit. There had been no final kiss, no last touch or stroke of the hair.
I let her go past me, then moved quickly to the platform doors, spotting him on Platform 6 as he looked at his ticket and checked the buses. It was now time to hurry back the other way and see what Liv was up to.
Barging through the bus station doors I looked out onto the square. She was walking away from me, putting her Tibetan hat on, heading across the pedestrian crossing. I could see the 4x4 on the other side, parked in a line of other vehicles on meters.
Turning, I ran back into the station. The destination board said the Platform 6 train was leaving for St. Petersburg in two minutes.
I walked swiftly back to the newsstand and bought the magazine, together with a reel of Scotch tape. Taking off the plastic sleeve, I ripped it into two strips and wrapped the tickets individually. Now all I had to do was find a place to hide them that Tom would remember.
It wasn't hard. The long banks of luggage lockers by the taxi exit were on legs, with a four-inch gap between them and the floor.
Pretending to clean the slush off my shoes, I taped Tom's under Number 10 and mine under Number 11. If things went wrong, both of us had a ticket out of Finland.
As I made my way back to Stockmann, Liv's meeting with the man in the camel-hair coat mulled round in my head.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor. Once I'd passed the cold weather gear a sign told me that on the floor above was 'cold storage for furs.' I passed a restaurant, a juice bar, and found Tom in Cafe Avec, overlooking the shoppers below on the fifth floor. His half-cup of herbal whatever looked sad and cold on the table in front of him. The light-wood furniture had come straight out of an Ikea warehouse and the place was packed with people snacking on soup or little fish dishes. The noise was deafening people talking and cell phones going off with a million and one different tunes.
'Wotcha, mate.' He was all smiles, pointing at his bags, then opening one for me to look inside. I was pleased to see he'd bought himself a decent pair of boots, and the dark-blue, thick, woolen check lumberjack coat
