Black Ops: The 12th Spider Shepherd Thriller (32 page)

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. He needed to be around people, he realised. He needed the buzz of conversation, he needed to be able to see and hear other people and not just on a television screen. He picked up his coat and headed out, walking through the streets towards the river. Ahead of him he saw a pub called the Lighthouse and he decided to go in. He took off his coat and sat at the bar. He ordered a Jameson and soda with ice and nibbled at peanuts while he waited for it to arrive.

He heard a girl to his left curse and turned to look at her. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, pretty with dark skin and near-black eyes that suggested Asian heritage. She had short curly black hair and was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket over tight Versace jeans; a Louis Vuitton bag was slung over her shoulder. She was glaring at an iPhone and as Shepherd watched she cursed again and banged it face down on the bar. The barman placed Shepherd’s drink in front of him and asked the girl what she wanted.

‘A new bloody phone,’ she said. She sighed and then flashed him a smile. ‘A Kir royal, please.’ The barman went off to make her drink and she sighed again. ‘Bloody phone,’ she muttered.

Shepherd couldn’t place her accent, but there was a hint of American in there somewhere. ‘Problem?’

‘I’m supposed to meet a client here but he hasn’t shown up and my phone has packed up. I don’t think it’s the battery, I charged it up this morning.’ She tilted her head and smiled. ‘I don’t suppose you’d let me make a call on yours, would you? It’s local. I’ll reimburse you.’

Shepherd laughed and took out his phone. ‘Have it on me,’ he said, handing it to her.

‘Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,’ she said. She put her bag on the bar and took out a matching purse. Then she took out a dozen or so business cards and flicked through them, selected one and carefully tapped in a number. She mouthed, ‘Thank you so much,’ as she waited for the call to be answered. She slipped off her stool and walked away as she began talking. ‘It’s Julia, I’m here, where are you?’

She frowned as she listened. ‘I know, I know, I’m so sorry, my phone just died. Where are you?’

She turned her back on Shepherd but he could just about make out what she was saying. Whoever she was supposed to be meeting wasn’t going to be turning up but had left several messages. She rescheduled for the following day before apologising again for her phone not working.

Shepherd sipped his drink as she came back. She slipped on to the stool next to his and put the phone down in front of him. ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said. ‘He had to cancel. If I hadn’t called him I’d have been waiting all night.’

‘Happy to help,’ said Shepherd, putting the phone into his pocket.

The barman placed her drink in front of her and she nodded her thanks. ‘To be honest, I’m happy to have the night off. It’s been work, work, work ever since I got here.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m Julia,’ she said.

‘Harry.’ They shook hands.

‘Like Prince Harry?’

‘The same. Though obviously I’m a few years older than him.’

‘So what do you do, Harry?’

‘Marketing,’ said Shepherd. ‘Promoting energy companies mainly.’

‘Sounds interesting.’

‘It’s not. What about you?’

‘Website design, mainly. If you’ve got a website and you want to get more traffic from the various search engines, I can get you all the traffic you want. There’s a team of us over from Brazil working on a project with a large electronics retailer.’

‘You’re Brazilian?’

She shook her head. ‘No, but we’re based there. The owner of the company is Brazilian and he doesn’t like to travel. So he stays put and sends his team out.’ She drained her glass. ‘Can I buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do.’

Shepherd looked at his watch. It was just after nine and he had nothing else planned. And it had been a long time since an attractive woman had hit on him.

‘Oh shit,’ she said, putting her hands up to her face.

‘What?’

‘You think I’m a hooker.’

‘Of course I don’t!’

She shook her head. Her cheeks had flushed red. ‘You do, I saw it in your eyes. A woman on her own in a bar offers to buy you a drink, of course you’re going to think I’m a prostitute.’

‘Julia, I swear the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I was just thinking it’s getting late.’

‘You have to be somewhere?’

He smiled. ‘Actually I don’t. So yes, please. A whiskey and soda would be great.’

‘You know what, I haven’t eaten yet and I’m famished. I was going to take the client for dinner on the company credit card – why don’t I take you?’

‘Are you allowed to do that?’

She laughed. ‘If it makes you feel any better we can split the bill. Have you eaten?’

Shepherd hadn’t. He’d been planning to microwave a Marks and Spencer ready meal when he got back to the flat. He had the choice of sausages and mash with onion gravy, fish pie or Thai green curry. ‘I haven’t, and yes, I’d love to.’

She smiled. ‘I’ll even let you choose the restaurant.’

She held his look a second or two longer than necessary, and alarm bells began to ring in Shepherd’s head. He was realistic enough to know that he was a good-looking guy but the girl was a good ten years younger than he was and pretty enough not to have to be picking up guys in pubs. The phone conversation had been good but had sounded staged and he was pretty sure there had been no one else at the other end of the line.

S
hepherd had decided on the Gaslight Grill, a trendy steak restaurant at the back of the Lost Angel bar, a short walk from his apartment. He’d been there a few times and always enjoyed the food. The maître d’ recognised him and complimented him for finally bringing a pretty girl with him. ‘Mr Cartwright usually dines alone,’ he said to Julia.

‘It’s because I promised to split the bill,’ she laughed.

He showed them to a corner table. The next hour went quickly. The steaks were as good as ever, she chose a Chilean red wine that complemented the food perfectly, and by the time their coffee arrived the restaurant’s mirrored doors had been opened up to combine the dining area with the cocktail bar. She was funny, smart as a whip and several times she reached over and touched his arm or the back of his hand. She laughed easily, and despite his reservations about being set up, she made him smile, too. But the more she flirted with him, the more certain he became that her meeting him in the pub hadn’t been an accident.

When the bill came Julia took out her credit card but Shepherd insisted and paid with cash. ‘I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in years,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a pretty shitty time over the last couple of days and I needed a break.’

‘Happy to have helped,’ she said. ‘I’m in town for a few more days so we could do it again, if you like.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘Yeah, that’d be cool.’ He wondered for a moment if he’d been wrong and it really had been a chance encounter.

She pulled out her purse and gave him a business card, then took out a pen and scribbled a phone number on the back. ‘That’s got my Rio details and that’s my UK mobile.’

Shepherd took the card and stood up. He followed her outside. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

‘I’m at the Premier at County Hall,’ she said. ‘Cheap and cheerful but to be honest it’s just a place to crash. You?’

‘I’ve got a flat not far from here,’ he said. ‘To be honest, I only went out for a walk.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Five hours ago.’

‘You could invite me in for coffee,’ she said, and then immediately laughed. ‘There you go, now you’ll be sure I’m a hooker. How about this?’ She put her hand over her heart. ‘I solemnly swear that no matter what happens, no money will change hands.’

Shepherd smiled at her, sure now that she was up to something. ‘You’re funny,’ he said. He could think of only two reasons why she would be so keen to get him alone. She was either planning to rob him, or hurt him. And she’d already seen that he didn’t have much cash in his wallet.

‘I’m serious.’

‘About the coffee? Or the money?’

She linked her arm through his. ‘Both,’ she said. She gave his arm a squeeze and Shepherd flashed her a grin that suggested he had fallen for her charms. There was only one way to find out what she was up to and that was to take her back to his flat and see how it played out.

S
hepherd unlocked his front door and tapped in the four-digit code to stop the alarm system from buzzing.

‘This is nice, Harry,’ said Julia, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looking out on its view over the river.

‘The view? You hardly notice it after a while. And I’m sure Rio’s stunning. Do you want a coffee? Or wine?’

‘Wine would be good.’

‘Red? White?’

‘Surprise me.’

‘I’m a fan of red but I keep it in the fridge.’

‘You rebel.’

‘I just like cold red wine. Is that okay?’

She laughed. ‘That’s fine.’ She was still standing at the window but turned and took off her coat and tossed it on to an armchair. ‘I just love this view.’

Shepherd took a bottle of Rioja out of the fridge and two glasses. He poured the wine and went over to the window and gave Julia her glass. She sipped it and nodded her approval. ‘Cold is good,’ she said.

‘I drink it with fish, too.’

She laughed. ‘You really are a rebel.’ Before he knew what was happening she had moved towards him and was kissing him full on the lips. His left hand was still holding his wine but he slipped his right hand around her waist and pulled her closer. She moaned and pressed herself against him but then he shivered and gasped as her wine spilled down his back.

‘Oh my God,’ she said, stepping back.

He laughed. ‘That’s one way of ending a kiss.’

‘I’m such a klutz. And look at the floor. I’m so sorry, it’ll stain.’ She stared in dismay at the red wine pooling on the wooden floor.

Shepherd put his glass down on the coffee table. ‘It’s varnished, it’s okay.’ He was fairly sure that the spill hadn’t been accidental. She was making her move.

She headed over to the breakfast bar. ‘I’ll clean it up, you change your shirt. And that will stain, so I owe you a new one.’ Shepherd went to the bathroom as she picked up a cloth from the sink and went to mop up the spilled wine.

‘It’s a rental flat, don’t worry,’ he said as he grabbed a towel. He peered around the door so that he could catch her reflection in the window. She was bent over his glass and pouring something into it from a small bottle. She shook the bottle and then used her finger to stir the wine. As she straightened up, Shepherd pulled back, smiling to himself. She’d put something in his drink, obviously, but why? Was he a random pick-up and she just wanted to rob him? Or had she targeted him as Frederik Olsen, hired killer? Or Dan Shepherd, MI5 officer?

He dried himself, took a clean shirt from his wardrobe, checked himself in the dressing-table mirror and then practised his most winning lovelorn smile and went back into the main room. She was just finishing up wiping the floor. ‘I think it has stained it, a bit,’ she said.

Shepherd took the cloth from her. ‘Don’t worry about it, really.’ He picked up his glass and took it and the cloth over to the sink. ‘See what music you want,’ he said, nodding at the stereo. As she went over to look at the extensive CD collection in a rack above a Bang & Olufsen stereo system, Shepherd turned and as he tossed the cloth on to the draining board he poured most of his wine down the sink. He raised the nearly empty glass to his lips as he turned.

‘The music’s yours?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ he lied. In fact the CD collection, along with almost everything else in the flat, had been carefully selected by Damien Plant, one of MI5’s top dressers. Plant’s department supplied homes and offices, vehicles, furniture, clothing and jewellery along with faked photographs and documentation, everything needed to pump life into a legend.

‘I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Santana fan.’

‘Have been for years,’ he said, raising his glass to her.

She slotted the Santana CD into the stereo and picked up the Rioja bottle. ‘Let me top you up,’ she said.

He walked towards her and faked a stumble. ‘Whoops,’ he said.

‘Careful, we don’t want another spillage,’ she said, and slopped more wine into his glass. She was smiling but the flirtatious look had gone from her eyes and had been replaced with something colder and more clinical.

‘I don’t normally get as drunk as this,’ he said, slurring his words a little.

‘Maybe sit down?’ she said, putting the bottle and her glass on the coffee table.

Shepherd sat down on the sofa. He figured he’d go with the flow just to see what she had planned. The fact that she’d put something in his drink suggested she wasn’t going to pull out a gun and shoot him. He started blinking rapidly and put a hand up to his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I guess I drank too much.’

She smiled sweetly and took the glass from his hand. ‘Well, it is a good wine.’

‘Yes, but normally I can hold my drink better than this.’ He forced a smile. ‘I can barely keep my eyes open.’

‘Have a nap. I’ll enjoy the view.’ She put his glass down next to hers and walked over to the window and looked out over the river, but Shepherd could see that she was checking out his reflection. She kicked off her high heels.

‘No, I’ll be okay,’ he said, made as if he was trying to get up and then slumped back on the sofa. He allowed his eyes to close and then he breathed heavily for the best part of a minute before he heard her pad over the wooden floor. He heard a rustle as she picked up her bag and a thud as she placed it on the coffee table. He heard rustling and then a thwack-thwack sound. He opened his eyes a fraction and saw that she had put on a pair of blue latex gloves and was putting on a hair net. As he watched she reached into her Louis Vuitton bag and took out a roll of silver duct tape, followed by a plastic bag and a large syringe. Whatever she was up to, it had been well planned.

She walked over to the front door and he realised she had an accomplice. His heart began to race. Maybe he’d been a bit too clever playing her along.

He stood up as she opened the door. There was a man standing there, short and heavily built in a leather bomber jacket and cargo pants. Shepherd knew that he’d have to act fast because one against two was never a good idea, even if one of the two was a pretty girl. He moved quickly but it was a big flat and the man was inside and Julia was closing the door before he reached them.