Dead Girl Walking (48 page)

He shrugged. He genuinely didn’t care. Not about that.

‘You’re not with Westercruik,’ he ventured.

She responded with a thin smile and patted the bench, inviting him to sit. He got the impression there wasn’t really an option to refuse.

‘You didn’t answer my question. What happens to her?’

‘If she was going to be thrown to the lions it would have happened before now. I’ve known she was your source for some time. It’s you I’m interested in at the moment.’

‘Well, you’d better hurry up. They’re dangling the electrodes pretty close to my bollocks.’

‘Relax. You won’t go to jail. That’s not the game here, believe me. Not now, anyway. They’ll be ordered to leave it. They won’t be given a reason and they won’t be happy about it, but they’ll do as they’re told.’

He was about to ask how she could possibly know this when the answer hit him like a sledgehammer.

‘You’re the one who set the whole thing in motion.’

She said nothing by way of response, simply held him in that unnerving stare.

‘You played me,’ he went on. ‘When the intel on that laptop turned out to be bollocks I knew I’d been used, but I assumed it was about finding leaks. You’ve found them all now. What else could I give you?’

‘It
was
about finding leaks,’ she replied. ‘But it was about exposing them too: making sure there was no option for an internal cover-up. I used you to take it public.’

‘So I was your useful idiot. Why are you showing me your hand now?’

‘Because there was more than one game being played. Your involvement with Kendra brought you to my attention. It’s true I set you a trap, but it wasn’t to see whether you’d take the bait: that part was a given. I was more interested in finding out how you’d respond
after
the jaws snapped shut. So now I know I can trust you,’ she added pointedly.

‘Why would you care about that?’

She watched the children for a moment, making him wait.

‘I was hoping you might help us out.’

Parlabane almost choked.

‘Me, help you? Did you actually
read
my file? That would be like the Catholic Church reaching out to Richard Dawkins.’

‘No, it really wouldn’t. You’re a man of principle, Mr Parlabane, you’ve just proved that. You think we’re on opposite sides, but you’re drawing the line in the wrong place.’

She looked out towards the river, and Parlabane felt relieved at the reprieve from her regard but no less anxious about where this was going.

‘There’s a new game kicking off,’ she said, ‘and it’s going to be between those of us who believe in common responsibility – in nations, in government, in democracy and accountability – and those who believe they are above all of those things. The bad news is that we’re the underdogs.
They’ve
got all the money and all the influence: that’s why we need all the help we can get.’

‘You’d have to be pretty desperate if you’re asking me.’

‘Hear me out,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve not told you what it would involve. You would be lied to, double-crossed, misinformed, manipulated and, if necessary, disavowed. Plus the money’s shit too.’

‘You’re really selling it.’

‘I don’t have to sell it, Mr Parlabane. You made up your mind thirty seconds ago.’