This was promising. ‘Do you want me to do anything about her?’
‘Nothing yet. Let me think, but remain on standby.’
He ended the call, and Jane put the phone away. She was suddenly feeling better. Another $200,000 would be a major boost to her retirement fund, and now she had a lead back to Mason.
Whatever happened, she was going to get him this time.
Part Three
18
For the first time in what felt like years I woke up slowly, wondering at first where I was as light shone in through the edges of the curtains, then it came back to me. I was in Tina’s bed. Her side was empty but I could hear her moving about downstairs.
It had been long gone midnight when we’d arrived back at her place, one of a row of pretty terraced cottages in a quiet village close to the M25. By then I was utterly exhausted after the events of the evening. I’d told Tina I didn’t mind where I slept, but she’d let me stay in her bed. I remembered grabbing a shower, putting fresh dressing on the belly wound, and then climbing into bed beside her, where she was already asleep, or pretending to be. I’d kissed her head, smelling the softness of her hair, and that was pretty much the last thing I remembered until now.
I stretched under the sheets and sat up in bed as Tina came back into the room, already dressed. She was wearing jeans and a plain T-shirt, and her feet were bare, the nails painted red. She looked beautiful and I wanted to pull her into bed with me, but the look on her face suggested this wasn’t an option. She had a cup of tea in each hand and she handed me one and sat down at the end of the bed.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ she said. ‘The police have already named you as a suspect in the Cem Kalaman killing.’
I thought about this. ‘They must have had some sort of tip-off. I was wearing a balaclava the whole time.’
‘The thing is, you’re not just an escaped prisoner any more. You’re now the chief suspect in a shooting during which three people died.’
‘I didn’t shoot the woman. She was hit by one of Kalaman’s bodyguards.’
Tina shrugged. ‘But you had motive, so whatever happens they’re going to pin this on you.’
I sat back in the bed. ‘I suppose I should have been expecting this.’
‘And guess who they’ve had on the news talking about how the government has got to get a grip on crime and the prisons, and that your case is just an example of the lawlessness that seems to be sweeping the country?’
I had to laugh. ‘Sheridan. Jesus, he knows how to turn a situation to his advantage. You’ve almost got to admire him.’
‘He’s obviously been planning this whole thing a long time. And he’s got you backed into a corner.’
I was beginning to experience that familiar feeling of being hunted again. It seemed that, whatever happened, there was going to be no rest for me. I’d been set up to do Alastair Sheridan’s bidding without even knowing about it and, although I could take at least a sliver of satisfaction from the fact that Cem Kalaman would no longer walk this earth, Sheridan was now more impregnable than ever. In the latest battle between us, he’d won. What was worse, he’d always been winning.
I took a sip from the tea and tried not to look at Tina. She was my weakness, and I guess I was hers too.
And then something occurred to me. A plan. It was vague, but it might work. And best of all, it didn’t involve Tina. I just needed to think it through.
‘I might have something,’ I said.
Which was the moment when there was a loud knock on her front door.
Tina stiffened.
‘Make the bed, get rid of those clothes and that tea, and hide in the cupboard,’ she hissed at Ray, then got up and headed downstairs with her cup of tea, trying to maintain as casual a pose as possible. Tina didn’t get many unexpected visitors. Occasionally her neighbour, Mrs West, knocked on her door to offer her tomatoes from the garden or homemade jam, but she didn’t knock as hard as that, and the timing was far too coincidental.
Two men were facing her when she opened the door, both of whom she recognized instantly.
‘Morning, Tina,’ said Mike Bolt. He was dressed in jeans and a check shirt, while beside him, eight inches shorter, a lot leaner than she remembered, and dressed equally casually, stood his partner, Mo Khan.
Tina had worked with both men for a few years between 2008 and 2010 as a detective in the now defunct Serious and Organized Crime Agency, and had been in a relationship with Mike for part of that time. It had been she who’d ended their relationship but they’d remained good friends afterwards. Mo, however, was different. He’d never liked Tina, and she’d always suspected that it was because he was jealous of her friendship with his partner. Although she’d lost touch with Mike in the last couple of years, she knew he and Mo now worked for the National Crime Agency.
‘Morning, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Long time no see. I’m assuming this is an official visit.’ She nodded towards the jeans. ‘Is this the new-look NCA kit?’
Mike smiled. He might have been over fifty now but he was still a good-looking man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and close-cut silver hair, he’d always reminded her of that old Hollywood actor her dad liked, Steve McQueen.
