“Ooo … Hummingbird cakes, my favourite.” Johnny stood up to help with the distinctive purple and black cardboard box Natalie was carrying with caution across the floor.
“No.” Nat interrupted. “Cora’s favourite.”
Cora stood up slowly whilst Johnny was already opening the box.
“You’re too good.” Cora wrapped her arms around her friend.
Johnny started naming the cakes, pointing a famished finger at them.
Cora looked at the mouth-watering selection. She stretched a hand forward and stopped herself in mid-air. There was no vanilla flavour, her favourite … perhaps there were none left in the shop. She chose salted caramel, Ollie’s favourite.
Everybody gathered around and chatted about this and that.
Cora was no longer listening. She took out her mobile from her pocket and checked for messages.
Nothing.
She placed the phone back in her jeans pocket and forced herself to eat another mouthful of cake.
Charlie had quietly grabbed a bright orange beanbag and dumped it next to Cora’s leather chair. He sat there, leaning against the armrest. “How can we help?”
The cheerful atmosphere disappeared. Everyone chewed their cupcakes in silence.
“I just don’t want to get anyone into trouble.” Cora finally said after clearing her tight throat.
“Nonsense.” Beth leaned forward, pressing her upper body sideways into the chair, an arm outstretched towards her friend. “We’re here for you just the way you and Ollie have always been there for us.”
A murmur of general agreement spread amongst the others.
Cora ruffled her spiky hair. “I don’t know … It’s about what I’ve seen. These people … they are …” she recalled what Nancy and Inspector Pole had said. “They are professionals.”
Everybody looked at each other. It sounded … impossible.
“You mean … like … hitmen?”
“Johnny, that is not helpful.” Charlie’s frown was more serious than usual.
“He’s right …” Cora nodded. “That’s exactly what I meant. They searched the flat methodically … I was hiding … then they chased me … and then …” Cora stopped herself dead. Should she be telling her friends all this?
“Then what?” Nat asked. She hadn’t touched any of the cakes herself.
Cora struggled to make up her mind. Talking to her friends seemed to make matters clearer in her head. The permanent fog in which she had been living since Ollie’s disappearance might start to lift.
“… then they set the flat on fire.”
Her friends were involved whether they liked it or not. Who knew whether those men might come back and finish the job by setting the entire building alight?
“But why?” Beth asked.
“They must have been looking for something …” Nat ventured.
“That’s silly … You don’t set something you’re looking for on fire.” Johnny shrugged his shoulders.
“Maybe they found what they were looking for … and destroyed the place afterwards to hide whatever it was they had taken.” Charlie’s thoughtful face looked more focused than ever.
“Perhaps.” Cora abandoned her cake.
“But where could Ollie have hidden anything?” Nat had chosen to settle on the floor, cross-legged.
“I honestly don’t know …” Cora’s mind went back to the odd conversation she had had with Nancy.
“You’re thinking about something?” Johnny encouraged her.
“Did you remember anything when you were back at the flat with your friend Nancy?” Nat finally grabbed a salted caramel cupcake. Her sleeve rode up her arm, revealing part of her forearm. She pulled the fabric of her sweater sleeve down with a sharp move that almost made her drop the cake.
Cora remained silent for a long moment and no one thought of interrupting her. “Perhaps there’s something among my installation props?”
It was good to share with true friends.
Chapter Seven
“You really have a knack for it.” Harris’s voice bounced around the inside of his stationary car.
“Coming from you that can’t be a good thing.” Pole glanced into the rear-view mirror of his car and changed lane. Today he had exchanged the motorbike for an unmarked police vehicle.
“Admit it, Pole. You enjoy dabbling with MI6.” Harris’s grin could be heard in his voice.
“You’ve got news about Ollie, I presume.” Pole slowed down as a set of traffic lights was turning red. He was in no rush to meet Superintendent Arthur Timothy Marsh.
“I have … You are not the only one who is interested in this young man.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement … He is lying in ICU, breathing through a respirator. The flat he lives in has been torched to a crisp and his girlfriend has been followed and intimidated … Someone is most definitely interested in Ollie Wilson.”
“A good friend of mine from across the pond called me yesterday.”
“About Ollie?” Pole’s voice sounded incredulous. “Are you the only agent at MI6 the CIA contacts when they need information about the UK?”
“By the looks of it I’m the only agent one step ahead of everyone else …”
Pole was now speeding down the Victoria Embankment along the River Thames. The few pedestrians walking along the stone pavement were hunched forward, collars up and heads down against the cold winter wind. The Thames was at its low watermark revealing its banks of sand and mud. Pole joined a short queue of vehicles that were preparing to turn right. In the distance the London Eye, carrying tourists packed into small pods, was slowly revolving.
“What can you tell me that’s helpful to this case?” Pole had learned, whilst working undercover alongside Harris, that the man kept his cards close to his chest but that occasionally he was prepared to share valuable information.
“Keep an open mind about what you think you see and what the evidence tells you.”
“That’s a tad cryptic … You’re not the Oracle.”
“Agreed … To be frank I’m not sure I know anything more myself.” Harris’s voice took on a serious tone. He was not holding back this time, or perhaps not as much as he usually did.
“What’s in it for you, Harris?”
“You’re pushing your luck … Let’s say the biotech world is starting to interest me more, whether run by small firms or large pharmaceutical companies.”
“Fine, I’ll keep you posted … and I’m expecting you to do the same for me.” Pole indicated
