‘Because this isn’t just about Santos and Faulks. There’s enough in there to bring the whole organisation down and implicate everyone who has ever dealt with them.’
‘Have you seen how much of that shit there is?’ Archie snorted.
‘We could photograph some it,’ she suggested. ‘We’ve got three hours. That’s more than enough…’
‘Two hours,’ Dominique corrected her.
‘What?’ Tom’s head snapped round. ‘You said…’
‘According to his calendar, Faulks just cancelled his last meeting,’ she explained, holding up her phone. ‘That means he could be here any time after three.’
‘Shit,’ Archie swore, then shot Tom a questioning glance. ‘Can you do it?’
‘No way.’ Tom shook his head emphatically, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. ‘It’s a three-hour job. Two and a half if we’re lucky.’
‘Then we need to buy you some more time,’ Archie said. ‘Find a way to keep Faulks away from here until we’ve finished.’
There was a long, painful silence, Tom glaring at the safe door as if it was somehow to blame for the change in Faulks’s schedule, Dominique flexing her fingers where they’d gone stiff from dragging the bag.
‘Come on,’ Archie snorted eventually. ‘Nothing? Anyone?’
‘Can you get to the surveillance cameras?’ Allegra asked.
‘The patch panel’s probably next to the server room downstairs,’ Dominique said with a nod. ‘Why?’
‘It’s just…I might have an idea. Well, it was your idea really.’
‘My idea?’ Dominique looked surprised, the brusque tone she’d reserved for Allegra up until now softening just a fraction.
‘Only it’ll never work.’
‘Perfect!’ Archie grinned. ‘The best ideas never do.’
SEVENTY-ONE
Free Port, Geneva 20th March – 3.22 p.m.
‘What did you think?’ Verity asked, fixing her lipstick in the mirror.
‘Which one?’
The Bentley tacked into the warehouse car park, the chassis leaning gracefully into the bend.
‘Sekhmet. The Egyptian lion goddess.’
‘Oh, that one,’ Faulks sniffed, looking disinterestedly out of the window.
‘Don’t go all shy on me.’ Verity glanced across, wiping the corner of her mouth where she had smudged it slightly. ‘What did you think?’
‘I don’t like to bad-mouth the competition,’ Faulks gave a small shake of his head as the car glided to a halt.
‘Liar!’ Verity laughed. ‘You thought it was a fake, didn’t you?’
‘Well, didn’t you?’ He threw his hands up in exasperation. ‘And not even a very good one. The base was far too short.’
‘Are we here?’ Verity glanced up at the ware-house’s rusted facade with a dubious expression.
‘Don’t sound so disappointed,’ Faulks laughed. ‘Most people don’t even know I have this place, let alone get to come inside.’
‘In that case I’m honoured.’ She smiled.
‘Anyway, I’m moving. They’re knocking it down. It’s a shame, really. I’ve been here almost since I started. Grown quite attached to it over the years.’
‘I never took you for a romantic, Earl,’ she teased.
‘Oh, I’m an incurable romantic,’ he protested. ‘Just as long as there are no people involved.’
Logan stepped round and opened her door. But as Verity went to get out, Faulks placed his hand on her arm.
‘Can you give me five minutes? I just want to make sure everything’s set up.’
‘Of course.’ She sat back with an indulgent smile although there was no disguising the impatience in her voice. ‘There are a few calls I need to make anyway.’
Nodding his thanks, he led Logan inside where they both signed in.
‘New tenants, Stefan?’ Faulks asked, surprised to see four names above his.
The guard checked that no one else was listening then leaned forward with a grin.
‘Just until the end of the month,’ he whispered excitedly. ‘They’re making a porno and wanted somewhere… discreet. You should see the two girls they’ve got! The director said I could go and watch them shoot a couple of scenes later this week.’
Faulks mustered a thin smile.
‘How nice for you.’
They rode the lift to the third floor and traced a familiar path round to corridor thirteen, stopping outside Faulk’s suite. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside and then stopped.
‘That’s funny,’ he muttered.
‘What?’ Logan followed him inside, immediately alert.
‘The alarm’s off. I was sure I’d…’
Logan drew his gun and stepped protectively in front of him.
‘Wait here.’
Treading carefully, he stepped over to the door to the middle room, eased it open and then peered inside. His gun dropped.
‘Boss, you’d better come’n see.’
Faulks stepped past him with a frown, the tip of his umbrella striking the floor every second step, then froze.
It was empty. Gutted. Stripped clean. The crates, the boxes, the vases, the statues, the safe-everything had gone.
He felt suddenly faint, the room spinning around him, his heart pounding, the blood roaring in his ears. Turning on his heels, he limped back into the first room and threw one of the cupboards open with a crash. Empty. The next one was the same. And the one after that, the metal doors now clanging noisily against each other like shutters in a storm as he jumped from one cupboard to the next. They were all empty.
‘You’ve been fuckin’ turned over,’ Logan growled.
Faulks couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, felt sick. He staggered to the table, his legs threatening to give away under him at any minute, the open cupboard doors still swaying around him as if they were waving goodbye.
What about the files?
Somehow he found the strength to limp through to the third room, Logan following behind, his warning to be careful echoing unheard off the bare walls. Faulks stopped on the threshold, supporting himself against the door frame, not needing to go inside to see that this room too had also been stripped bare.
He had the strange sensation of drowning, of the air being squeezed from his lungs, the pressure clawing at his eardrums, pressing his eyes back into his head. And then he was falling, legs tumbling away from underneath him, back sliding down the wall as the floor rose up to grab him, umbrella toppling on to his lap. Gone. Gone. Everything gone.
‘Earl?’ He heard Verity’s voice echoing towards him. ‘You said five minutes, so I thought I’d come up. Is everything okay?’
SEVENTY-TWO
