belting.
Nevertheless, he smiled patiently at the mother, took out his pen and the appropriate forms and wrote down details he knew almost off by heart.
Full name of missing person: LILTON, Claire Jane.
After making some hurried phone calls between them, using FB’s name as a lever, Henry and Danny gradually put together enough police officers to form a team big enough to kick-start a manhunt.
Weary after this flurry of activity, they made their way up to the canteen to grab a cup of tea and some toast. Henry guided Danny to the far corner where they sat out of earshot. He looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to begin, and noting the dark rings around her eyes.
‘ He’s driving me absolutely nuts,’ she commenced, calmly enough. ‘Now he’s started phoning me and not speaking… really babyish. But it’s getting to me; making me a nervous wreck. I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner in my own home… God, I hope I don’t sound like a hysterical female.’
‘ No, you don’t,’ Henry reassured her. ‘But are you sure it’s him phoning?’
‘ I tried 1471 and got no joy, but it could have come from a phone on a switchboard… so, no, I don’t know, but I’m sure it is.’
‘ We can check out the phone in his office.’
‘ And then twelve red roses came through the letter box at half-one this morning. I’m sure it’s him.’
‘ Any proof?’
She shrugged thoughtfully. ‘I could possibly check something out.’
‘ Do it,’ Henry ordered her.
‘ I’m also positive he’s the one who damaged my car. When I drove out last night he was holding the badge for me to see.’
‘ Oh, that’s what it was.’
‘ You saw him?’
‘ I was in the vicinity, shall we say? Purely by accident.’ Henry opened his palms. ‘Okay, Danny, what do you want to do? I know we’ve had this discussion before, but now things have moved on a pace.’
She looked glum. She sighed through her nose and rested her elbow on the table, her chin on her hand and gazed out of the window towards the Tower. There was a huge inflatable gorilla climbing up it which made her smile briefly. ‘He’ll no doubt have dumped the badge somewhere, so I don’t see any future in court proceedings. He’s not stupid enough to have kept it, is he?’
Henry raised a finger to interrupt her. He smiled wickedly. ‘Yes, he is stupid enough. I sneaked in behind him last night and followed him to his office. I think he hid it in there somewhere.’
Danny’s mouth fell open. She was silent for a few moments. ‘Do you know how much those things are?’ she blurted. ‘Criminal damage,’ she ruminated as the implications dawned on her. ‘He could lose his job if he got convicted.’
‘ He deserves to.’
She shook her head decisively. ‘No, I wouldn’t want that. I simply want him sorted out. I’m not even bothered about compensation — just get him off my back.’
Henry took a deep breath. ‘Right,’ he said with finality. ‘In that case, let’s present him with fait accompli numero deux de la jour. Okay?’
‘ It’s a deal.’
‘ And while we’re doing that, let’s do our level best to catch Louis Vernon Trent… an old friend of yours, I believe.’
Kruger meandered around the shops and bars and poked his head into the VIP lounges he knew of.
Nothing.
He realised he could be wasting time better spent in bed. Then, as he passed the meeting point Location and Information Center on concourse E, he had an idea. The pretty lady behind the counter was called Julia.
‘ Hi, my name’s Steve,’ he said disingenuously. ‘I dunno if you can do this for me, but I’m supposed to meet my buddy, Charlie Gilbert here… about twenty minutes ago. We seem to have missed each other and I don’t know where he is. He’s due to board the Manchester flight an’ I’m Seattle-bound. It’s our last chance to get together before he leaves the States. We probably won’t see each other again for years.’ He sighed, looking upset. ‘I was wonderin’ if you could page him, maybe tell him there’s some urgent information for him. Could you do that, honey?’
Julia smiled. ‘Of course, sir.’
She leaned forwards and opened her mouth to speak close to the mike in a way which made Kruger’s heart palpitate, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Gilbert actually walk past. He was accompanied by a guy Kruger placed as one of Bussola’s minders.
‘ Forget it, babe.’ Kruger placed his hand between her mouth and the mike and smiled. ‘Some other time, maybe.’ Then he was gone, tailing Gilbert at a discreet distance.
The pair walked into the main shopping mall on the first floor and made a beeline for the Disney Store. With a bored-looking bodyguard lounging idly by the door, Gilbert spent about twenty minutes browsing before reappearing, bearing a large carrier bag stuffed with a giant Mickey Mouse.
He did a little more shopping and, suitably laden down, left the shopping area. He went to concourse E, turned up some steps and disappeared through a door marked Private — Executive Lounge.
The minder followed and so did Kruger. He had already made up his mind to follow Gilbert wherever he went, positive he would be led to Bussola.
Kruger burst through the door and found himself in a privately rented room with a small bar, waitress and a few tables and chairs.
Bussola sat at the bar, drinking whisky.
There were four bodyguards in all. As soon as Kruger came through the door, they reacted. He was faced with the muzzles of three pistols, all held in very steady hands. Bussola smiled broadly at the intruder.
Kruger knew then what it must have been like to step into the lion’s den, particularly when an ebullient Bussola shouted, ‘Hey, Steve! Wondered when you’d show up. Come in and have a drink. You look like you need one. Siddown, let’s have chats.’ He glanced at the bodyguards. ‘Search him,’ he barked.
It was not so much a VIP lounge as a cosy VIP living room. Kruger had not known such things existed. Most of the flying he had done had been on the cheap; waiting with hundreds of other poor unfortunates, then being crammed with a shoe-horn onto a pencil-thin plane to sit in seats with hardly any recline, leg space or comfort.
This, he decided, was the way to travel in the future. Kruger’s eyes surveyed the bodyguards again.
Two stood near the door. The other two were slightly to one side of him, positioned to judge his every move and react should he do anything stupid.
But he’d already done about the most stupid thing he was ever going to do by turning up at the airport with some half-baked notion in his brain.
Now he knew he’d be lucky to leave here in one piece. He looked narrowly at Bussola.
Mark Tapperman jerked into wakefulness. The telephone was still in his hand. The bedside light was still on. His wife still asleep. He blew out his cheeks and wondered if it had been a dream, the phone call from Kruger. With a further rude start, he realised no. He sat up quickly, re-set the phone and dialled Kruger’s home number, hoping his friend would not be so stupid as to… No, Tapperman reassured himself as he waited for Kruger to answer, he couldn’t be that stupid. Could he?
‘ You gotta lotta balls,’ the Italian was saying, ‘coming out here. Either that or you’re a complete jerk.’
‘ The latter, I think,’ Kruger said dryly.
‘ Well, whatever, Steve, you’re here now and we can talk like two grown men.’
‘ Do grown men cut each other to pieces?’
Bussola stuck a large cigar between his fat lips and lit it with a silver lighter. It had the diameter of a
