‘You’re looking very good on it.’
‘Ha. I ought to drop your ass in the river.’
‘But you’re not going to do that.’
The broker saw the change in her-suddenly his client was a wild animal ready to pounce. ‘Eh, no. No, I’m not. But don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again, okay?’
The Soul Collector held his gaze. ‘Don’t give me bullshit contracts again.’
Havi took a hit from the margarita that had been placed in front of him. ‘Hey, are you okay? You look…I dunno…kind of shitty.’
‘Why, thank you, good sir. Modesty prevents me saying how you look.’
There was an uneasy silence.
‘Now what?’ the Soul Collector said, her eyes on the gray water below.
‘Now I go back to Elena and-’ He broke off, his eyes wide. ‘Jesus, woman, don’t…do that.’
Under the table, she dug her fingernails harder into the denim above his knee. ‘Give me another job. Now.’
The broker wiped sweat from his brow. ‘All right,’ he said, in a loud whisper. ‘Let me go.’
The Soul Collector squeezed hard once more and then sat back. ‘I’m all ears.’
‘All fuckin’ fingers, you mean,’ Havi muttered, taking an envelope from his pocket. ‘I don’t know what you’re so fired up about. I got you what you wanted.’
His client opened the envelope and ran her eyes over the sheet of paper inside. ‘Well, well,’ she said. ‘Not before time.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘Thank you, Havi. As so often, a pleasure to do business with you.’ She got up and left without looking back.
Xavier Marias drained the rest of his margarita and called urgently for another.
I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a tank. I sat up, my mind in a swirl. Then I remembered what I’d seen on the mortuary tables-the inert remains of my family-and realized I was a lot worse off than an accident victim. For a start, I was still alive.
I looked around the room, taking in the hospital fitments and plain decor. There was nothing I could use to self-harm, unless I twisted the sheets and hanged myself. That wasn’t such a bad idea. I got up, my knees almost giving way, and started to pull off the bedding. I had only got as far as the top sheet when the door opened and a big guy came in.
‘Put it down,’ he ordered.
I thought about that, then launched myself at him. I had a flash of doing combat training with a tall soldier, but whatever drugs I was on had seriously compromised my skills. The gorilla grabbed my wrists in one hand, spun me round and pushed me back to the bed.
‘I can give you another sedative, Mr. Wells.’
I looked round. Colonel Jimson had come in. Behind him, a male nurse was holding a metal tray, on which lay a full syringe.
‘But I don’t think you really want that,’ the medic continued.
He was right. They had me cold, no matter what I tried to do. I relaxed and the auxiliary let me go. I sat down amongst the demolished bedding and lowered my head. Karen and Magnus weren’t there anymore. I couldn’t see them. That was some kind of relief, but I immediately felt guilty.
‘Would you like something to eat?’ Jimson asked.
Initially, the idea of eating seemed so trivial, so irrelevant given what had happened, that I almost laughed. Then I realized that I was ravenous.
‘Bacon and sausages,’ I said, swallowing a rush of saliva. ‘Scrambled eggs, toast, coffee.’
The doctor nodded to the male nurse, who walked out. ‘The drugs have that effect. Apart from that, how are you feeling?’
‘How do you think?’
He glanced at the soldier, who was still near the bed. ‘All right, Corporal, you can go.’
When we were alone, Jimson came closer. ‘Are you up to receiving visitors? Mr. Sebastian told me to inform him the second you were awake.’
I looked at him. It seemed not all military men were by-the-book assholes.
Then again, remembering my trainer’s name, Quincy Jerome, I realized I already knew that. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it. I want to see him, too.’
‘Okay. Have your breakfast first.’
I did and, to my surprise, I felt better after it. Then I was stricken by remorse again. Karen and our son were dead and all I cared about was filling my stomach. Human beings were nothing more than animals.
Actually, they were much worse. Animals didn’t experiment on each other. Animals killed to eat, not for specious religions and ideologies. Animals weren’t immoral and malevolent.
Peter Sebastian came in and expressed his sympathy. If I hadn’t suspected that he was a highly devious operator, I’d have bought his performance. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel sympathy, I knew that. But I also knew he had other reasons to see me. That didn’t bother me-in fact, it could work to my advantage.
‘Food okay?’ he asked, inclining his head toward the tray.
‘You think that matters right now?’
‘I imagine not. Christ, Matt, it’s an awful thing.’
‘It’s down to Rothmann, isn’t it?’ I said, clenching my fists without thinking about it.
‘It’s too early to say. The pathologist is-’ He broke off, suddenly ill at ease.
‘I know what he’s doing,’ I said, with more bravado than I felt. Fortunately Karen and Magnus didn’t appear before me. ‘Is Rivers working on it, too?’
Sebastian nodded. ‘And Dr. Brown. I gather her process was effective.’
‘So they said. Let’s hope it put paid to the Rothmanns’ shit once and for all.’
‘Yes.’
The way he was looking at me made me suspicious. ‘What’s going on? What are you keeping from me?’
‘Nothing, Matt,’ he said, a shade too quickly.
‘What’s going on? You’re working some scheme, aren’t you?’
‘It’s…it’s a bit unusual,’ he said, with an unusual lack of confidence.
‘You’re going to let me out, aren’t you? All the training I’ve been doing, the extra sessions with Rivers, Dr. Brown’s process. What’s the catch?’
‘I don’t know if it is a catch, judging by what you said earlier.’ He was more composed now, back on home ground. ‘We want you to find Heinz Rothmann.’
I had to laugh, though I wasn’t even mildly amused. ‘That would be the Heinz Rothmann who tried to turn me into a killer? The Rothmann whose sister I killed and who would like to cut me to pieces in return?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, that same Heinz Rothmann whose conditioning program may have robbed you of Karen and your son.’
‘Despite the fact we were assured by you people that it wouldn’t affect them.’ I blinked hard before going on. ‘I used to write crime novels, remember? What’s important is the characters’ motivation. Why has the FBI changed its story on Karen’s pregnancy risks and become suddenly so keen on finding that German piece of shit?’
‘Actually, he has an American passport,’ Sebastian said, like a teacher correcting a pupil.
‘Maybe he does, but that doesn’t mean shit.’
‘In any case, your question is besides the point. The Bureau has been looking for Rothmann ever since he disappeared.’
‘Uh-huh. You wouldn’t recently have come to the conclusion that he’s behind these Hitler’s Hitman murders, would you?’
‘Obviously the presence of his confederate Gordy Lister at the scene in Philadelphia was suggestive.’ He smiled slackly. ‘Good catch, by the way.’
‘Your people would have got it when they went over the footage.’
‘I wish I had your faith.’
‘Any further sign of Lister?’
‘No. We’ve circulated details to the investigating teams at the other locations, but there have been no positive hits.’
