Angel and the Assassin (14 page)

“Because I know everything,” Kael said. A moment of complete stillness followed. If Kael knew Conran, and he did, the man was licking his upper lip nervously at that moment.

“And you did not leave behind any evidence?” His voice was quiet. He must be calling from home. “Sperm up Andresen‟s backside, for instance? Or belt marks on his buttocks?”

“I only do them first if they want me to, and I always wear a condom,” he said, as if amused by the accusation, though if Conran had been in the room, he would have backhanded him for it.

“It‟s a pity you did not possess such scruples in school,” Conran said quietly.

“Are you still stinging over that?” Kael laughed. “Even I have some morals.”

“I doubt it. Do you know what the boys from cleanup call you?” Conran‟s voice sounded tight. He wanted to hurt Kael now and was working up to an insult of his own.

“I‟m sure you‟ll tell me.”

“The black widow.”

“Nice,” Kael said. He didn‟t give a damn what they called him as long as they never set eyes on him.

“If I thought the boy was your type, I would suspect you had something to do with his disappearance,” Conran said.

“Oh yeah, what‟s my type?”

“You like them mature and masculine, don‟t you? Those are the ones who end up dying in compromising positions.”

It was true. He did prefer masculine men like himself. He liked men in their late twenties to midfifties, experienced subs who begged for his discipline and offered their arses and mouths willingly for his pleasure.

Angel was an aberration.

“Yes, that‟s what I like. If that boy had been in the house, he would be dead by now. And if cleanup had done their jobs, they would have been taking out two bodies.”

“You‟d kill a five-year-old if it got in your way, wouldn‟t you, Saunders?”

Conran said.

“Don‟t judge me, arsehole. You approved my training.”

“Do you know anything about three Bosnians found shot dead in a gay club last night?”

“Who were they?”

6“Nobody‟s quite sure. That lot tend to be involved in human trafficking and forced prostitution. But you go to gay bars, and the hit had your mark all over it.”

“It‟s a coincidence.”

Kael hung up, trying to integrate all he had heard. Angel had used the Internet at Starbucks. So now everyone assumed he was missing and in danger, and they were all looking for him. The steward on the British Airways flight would remember them. If there was a God, the man would be on a stopover flight in Afghanistan right now. There was CCTV all over the airports, not to mention all over the streets of London. If someone chose to start looking through it, they would spot him and Angel somewhere, though it was a needle-in-a-haystack approach.

“Fuck,” he whispered, remembering Freddie. “I hope he‟s too busy changing nappies to watch the news.”

The door handle turned, and the charwoman knocked. “Mr. Carpe, you want me to clean your gym?” she called.

Kael got up and opened the door. He needed the woman out of the flat soon.

“No. Have you done the bathroom?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it quickly and leave everything else.” He followed her along the hall and into the bathroom. She looked at him curiously as she squeezed cream cleanser into the toilet and sink.

“You watch me clean today, Mr. Carpe?”

He was watching the door to the bedroom to make sure she did not open it.

“How‟s your family?” He had never asked about her family before.

“Very well, thank you.” She made short work of scrubbing the sink and polishing the big mirror above it. “The bathroom is not usually so dirty. Toothpaste splattered on the mirror.”

“I‟ve been feeling lazy.”

“Is it the young lady who makes a mess?” She nodded knowingly at the bedroom door. Kael shrugged, trying to look sheepish, but he hated it when people thought he was straight.

Just as she was polishing the stainless-steel taps, the door from the bedroom opened and Angel walked in naked, heading straight for the toilet. His eyes were closed, and he walked like a blind person. He sat on the seat and urinated, his head tilted back, eyes shut as though he was sleepwalking. Kael watched him in horror.

He looked at the charwoman, who was watching Angel with utter surprise on her face.

Without seeing them, Angel got up, dribbling pee onto the seat, and went back to bed. Dragana walked over and flushed the toilet. With her cloth she wiped the seat and put the lid down.

If one more thing went wrong, he was going to scream. The entire Cape Cod mission, which under normal circumstances would be something he never thought of again, was turning into an Inspector Clouseau film, but with deadly consequences.

Kael followed Dragana out of the bathroom and watched her put her equipment away in the mop cupboard. She had seen Angel on the news, and she had seen him in the flat. All she had to do was stop at the nearest police station and tell them the missing young man was in Mr. Carpe‟s expensive flat on the river, and it would all be over. Conran would get him out of jail within the hour, but he would never see Angel again. Conran‟s office would take charge of him, and a few weeks later his body would wash up somewhere.

From the moment he saw Kael, Angel was never meant to live.

But right at that moment, there was the problem of the charwoman. Kael got her cash and handed it to her at the door. She looked up at him. “Mr. Carpe, why don‟t you tell me you prefer men?”

“I prefer men,” he said.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. You think I gossip?” She looked into his eyes as if she knew all his secrets. “And you think I don‟t know what are all the strange things in the home gym? You think I was raised in Ziploc bag?”

“I suppose I did.” Kael smiled.

“It‟s your business, nobody else.”

It was possible she did not recognize Angel from the news. The picture was not good, and it was on for only a minute. “Look, why not let me drive you home. I want to talk to you about this.”

“No need.” She opened the door. “I won‟t tell no one your business.”

“I want to. Hang on while I put my boots on and get my keys.”

Kael hurried to the bedroom. Angel still slept like a baby. From the wardrobe he took the keys to the car he rarely used, and from a box on the top shelf, he took two pairs of the transparent latex gloves that fit like a second skin.

As soon as he returned, Kael put the TV on again and checked every news channel, starting with Sky News, but only a couple of American channels were running the story, and it was already losing steam, becoming a local story. Conran had got on it right away. He switched it off when Angel walked in wearing only his underwear.

“Sir, did you come and talk to me when I was sleeping, or was I dreaming?”

“I told you not to get out of bed. Don‟t you remember going to take a piss when the charwoman was in the bathroom cleaning?”

Angel giggled. “Did I? Oh God! Did she see me?”

“Yes, she saw you.”

“Is there any food, Sir?”

Kael took Angel‟s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. He had a few questions to ask the boy. “Yes, I went out and got you some croissants and fruit.

Come into the kitchen; I‟ll make some more coffee.”

“I thought English people only drank tea.”

He followed Kael into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast counter on the high leather-topped stool. When he grabbed for the box from the bakery, Kael took it from his hands. While Angel watched, he washed a punnet of strawberries under running water and set them out in a glass dish. He took a banana and sliced it and placed that on a square plate. All the while Angel sat with his hands folded, looking at the food, not daring to touch it. Kael served the croissants on a separate plate and then made another pot of coffee.

“All right, go ahead and eat.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Angel took a croissant and broke it in two, scattering crumbs on the counter. He ate the fruit between mouthfuls of pastry. When he picked a second croissant, he looked up. “Did you want some, Sir?”

Kael took two white mugs from the cupboard. “I‟m like a dog; I usually eat only once a day.”

Angel laughed and broke the other croissant in two before stuffing half into his mouth.

“Did you e-mail anyone from Starbucks yesterday?” Kael asked.

Angel looked up, crumbs on his cheek, his silver eyes wide with innocence. “No, Sir.”

“You didn‟t use that boy‟s laptop to contact anyone?”

“No, Sir. We looked at gay bars in London; that‟s all. There‟s loads of them.”

So he thought he could get one over on his master, did he? Kael placed both hands on the counter and leaned into the boy‟s face, speaking slowly and clearly. He did not use a threatening tone; he didn‟t need to. Angel was already inching back.

“If you lie to me, I‟ll take my belt off and beat you with it. You will not like it. It will be an arse whipping.”

Angel‟s cheeks grew pink, and he squirmed on the stool.

“Did you e-mail anyone yesterday from Starbucks? Tell the truth.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why did you lie?”

The boy pulled the remaining piece of pastry apart nervously, scattering more buttery flakes on the counter. “I didn‟t want you to be mad at me, and now you‟re mad anyway.”

“Lying gets me pissed off every time. Do not lie to me. I insist you tell me the truth at all times. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Who did you e-mail?” He poured coffee into the cups and added cream.

“It was Maria-Jesus, our maid.”

“Why would you e-mail a maid?” Kael pushed a cup toward him.

“We were always good friends. She was kind to me. I can‟t reach my mom, and I didn‟t want her to worry when Sven‟s body was found. She didn‟t leave me an e-mail address, and I knew her phone wouldn‟t work outside the US. You told me that. I had no way to contact her, so I thought maybe Maria-Jesus could help.”

“Your mum left without telling you how to get hold of her?”

Anxious to explain, he looked at Kael. “She was in a hurry. Sven was only gone for a couple of days. She didn‟t want him to catch her leaving.”

“So why didn‟t you go with her?”

Angel‟s eyes dropped to the countertop, and he began to chew on his fingernails. “I told you; it all happened in a rush. She took the opportunity to leave while Sven was away. She didn‟t have time to get me a plane ticket.”

With his mother‟s money and that of her new millionaire boyfriend, she could buy all the plane tickets she wanted right at the airport. The droop of Angel‟s shoulders and the increased attention to his nails told Kael he was hurting. “What did you tell the maid?”

Angel spoke quietly. “I wanted her to let my mom know that I‟m alive and okay, but she probably doesn‟t know how to contact her either.”

“What did you write?” Kael asked again.

“I said, I‟m okay. Please let my mom know if you can. I miss you and your cooking. Someone will contact you.” He spread his hands. “That‟s it.”

7“Someone will contact you?”

“I meant you, Sir. I wanted to reassure her I was okay. I thought you could drop her a line and tell her not to worry. Maybe she knows where my mom is. I don‟t know.” He tore a strip off the nail of his middle finger. “I just wanted to let my mom know I‟m alive.”

Kael leaned against the counter to drink his coffee. “They all think you‟ve been kidnapped. Now everyone‟s looking for you.”

“Kidnapped? Who found Sven‟s body?”

“I don‟t know any details, but the maid called the police as soon as she got your e-mail.”

“Maybe we can get some ransom money out of Gregoire.” He drank some coffee and looked at Kael. “How do you know about this, Sir?”

“Your picture was on the CNN news today as a missing and endangered person, along with Sven Andresen, who they said was shot.”

“Shit.” Angel looked slightly startled at the reminder that only a couple of days before, he had seen his stepfather murdered by the man who stood in front of him.

“Sir, I‟m sorry. Will the cops be able to find you now? You can tell them he was selling guns to criminals.”

“I‟m sure that‟ll help.” Kael half smiled. “The picture they had on the news wasn‟t very good. It didn‟t really look that much like you.”

Kael stopped speaking abruptly, looking closely at Angel, who looked back nervously under the sudden intense scrutiny.

Angel‟s face was very smooth, with no discernible beard, and he had definitely not shaved since he got to England. He had pubic hair but no chest hair, and he was very immature for a twenty-year-old. He certainly didn‟t look twenty. He cursed himself for not looking at Angel‟s passport more closely to check his birth date.

“How old are you, boy?”

“The day I met you I turned twenty, Sir.” Kael held his gaze, not wavering.

The blush on Angel‟s cheeks deepened, and he licked his dry lips.

“How old did you turn the day I met you, Angel?”

“Eighteen,” he whispered.

“I‟ll bloody murder you!” Kael slammed his cup down on the counter, spilling the contents.

Angel leaped up from his stool and dropped to the floor with a scream.

Horrified at the fear in the boy‟s eyes, Kael strode quickly round the counter to find him cowering on the floor. He felt like a bully, not a master, and certainly not a daddy.

“No, I didn‟t mean it literally. Get up, you little twit.” He reached down and grabbed Angel under the armpits, pulling him to his feet.

Angel fell against his chest, breathing hard. “You‟re pretty scary, Sir. You‟re really big, and you kill people.”