Fifth Victim (13 page)

Mother and daughter locked gazes, duelling silently. It was Dina who gave way first, but her weary yet dignified tone was more effective than any shouted argument. ‘Leave things as they are, Mother – please. I’ll be fine.’

‘You’re taking risks,’ Caroline Willner said quietly. ‘I … don’t like it.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Dina repeated. Her body was tense. More was at stake here than just the question of an additional bodyguard. I wondered again at the power plays between them, about Dina’s refusal to go to Europe, and who was winning their long-running, tortuous game.

After a moment longer, Caroline Willner sighed. ‘All right, darling,’ she said, glancing down as if distracted by an imaginary speck on her dress. ‘In that case, Mr Armstrong, I’m afraid I must decline your offer of extra protection, and trust to Ms Fox to do her best.’

‘She always does,’ Parker murmured. He rose, inclined his head to them both, his manner almost courtly in his capitulation. ‘Charlie. See me out, would you?’

‘Of course.’

I led both men down to the entrance hall and through the massive front doors into the gentle warmth of the late afternoon. Landers stepped to the edge and stood looking outward, head moving slowly as he checked the perimeter, the neighbouring houses, and the view of the road. The Navigator that had brought Parker and Landers out to Long Island sat off to one side of the driveway under the shade of the trees. It looked small in a space that would have swallowed a dozen limousines.

I could see by the tilt of his head that Landers was waiting for what Parker would say to me with avid concentration, but I suppose I couldn’t really blame him for that.

Parker had leant back against the low wall that bordered the front of the house. ‘You carrying?’

Wordlessly, I reached under my open jacket and slipped the SIG from its holster. I thumbed the release to drop the magazine, worked the action to send the chambered round tumbling out onto the paving at his feet. I showed him the open breech to prove the gun was safe as I dumped it into his hands. Then I stooped to retrieve the fallen round, wiped it with my fingers and thumbed it back into the magazine, handing that over, too.

Parker gave the SIG no more than a cursory inspection, weighed the magazine in his palm to judge the load before slotting it back into the pistol grip without a fumble, even though his eyes never left my face. He could have done it all just the same in the dark.

He returned the weapon without comment. I pinched back the slide to feed in the first round again, the action working with a slick metallic double click, well oiled and well cycled. The SIG had no conventional safety catch, only a slide lock to hold the action back. Carried with the first round already chambered, it was instantly ready for use.

‘So why didn’t you use it?’ Parker asked, as if reading my thoughts.

I tucked the gun away under the hem of my jacket, smoothed the cloth down again over the top. ‘Are you honestly telling me you’d rather be up to your neck in policemen at this very moment?’ I asked. ‘Because if I’d drawn on the guy, the only way I could have stopped him was to shoot him. I wasn’t prepared to use deadly force against a man armed with a piece of sports equipment. I don’t suppose you’re likely to get anything from the bat he left behind, incidentally?’

‘You said they were wearing gloves, so I doubt it, and it’s a cheap make, available from just about any sporting goods outlet,’ Parker said, brushing aside my attempt to divert him. ‘And you didn’t know for sure he wasn’t carrying.’

‘I didn’t know he was, either,’ I countered. ‘And if he
was
armed, why did he bother clobbering the riding instructor? Why take the risk of losing control of the situation by physically engaging with Raleigh when he could have simply stood back and threatened all of us into submission at the outset?’

Parker’s eyes narrowed a fraction. ‘Did you work all this out at the time, or after?’

I smiled. ‘If the first guy had shot Raleigh instead of smashing his arm, Parker, I would have put two through his mouth in a heartbeat, of that you need have no doubts.’

Parker’s answering smile was rueful. ‘Yeah, I guess you would,’ he said. He leant back against the wall again and folded his arms, reminding me painfully of Sean. ‘I just needed to make sure you didn’t hesitate for the wrong reasons.’

My chin came up. ‘Because of California, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

I’d come under attack while covering a principal out there and had fired on three men I’d been convinced were aiming to kill us. It turned out that I was mistaken – about part of it at least. I had escaped an attempted murder charge by the skin of my teeth, and had no wish for a repeat performance.

‘There was also the additional factor that I seriously doubted Dina’s horse had ever been in close proximity to a discharging handgun before,’ I added. ‘If I’d fired on our attackers and he’d gone crazy, who knows what kind of damage he might have done to the girl.’

Parker’s head tilted slightly, considering. ‘Now that one you
definitely
came up with after the fact.’

I shrugged. ‘OK,’ I agreed meekly, ‘but the logic still holds. You didn’t see the way Cerdo was acting up, or how determined Dina was not to let go of him. And he was panicking enough as it was – adding gunfire into the equation would have been a recipe for disaster.’

‘So instead you used the horse as an offensive weapon.’

‘It was the only thing I could do that allowed me to keep some kind of control over the situation. Besides, like I said – they were amateurs.’

‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ Landers broke in, his voice almost diffident, ‘but just ’cause they was not carrying sidearms does not make them amateurs – nor does failing to overwhelm a professional close-protection officer, if you’ll pardon me for saying so. You underestimate yourself, ma’am.’

‘Thanks, Erik, but for God’s sake call me Charlie, not ma’am. I was an ordinary grunt, not a Rupert,’ I said, grinning at him. No way had I been considered officer material back in the army. ‘And my assessment has very little to do with how they were armed.’

Parker caught my eye and nodded his agreement. ‘If they’d been pros they would have taken you out as their primary objective, even though you were not the most obvious target,’ he said softly, ‘because they would have gathered enough intel to know exactly who and what you were.’

‘But they didn’t,’ I said. ‘They were sloppy and slow to react and too fixed on Dina to see danger coming from another direction, so either their intel was bad, or they were working without any. Either way,
that
makes them amateurs.’

Parker frowned. ‘But the other victims described well-planned and well-executed ambushes or snatches.’

‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘So either we have two different groups at work, or the connection between these kidnappings is not the social circle in which the victims move.’

‘Because anyone who was at the party on the yacht would have known you were Dina’s bodyguard,’ Parker finished. He paused. ‘Doesn’t narrow it down much.’

‘Yeah, but it may put Dina’s mind at rest if we’re looking for complete strangers rather than among her friends,’ I said. ‘Although …’

He waited a beat, eyebrow raised. ‘The Eisenberg kid,’ he supplied. ‘Orlando told you he was hanging around her before she was taken, and now he shows up at the riding club out of the blue, on the day an attempt is made on Dina. Coincidence?’

‘I sort of doubt it,’ I said. ‘And you didn’t see him after it was all over, standing there watching. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked thoroughly pissed off that the attack failed.’

‘And his close-protection guys didn’t intervene when this thing went down,’ Landers said, a soldier’s disgust tightening his voice.

‘I wouldn’t have expected them to – they had their job to do and I had mine.’ Landers still looked dubious, but didn’t outright contradict me.

‘You tread very carefully around Torquil Eisenberg, Charlie,’ Parker warned. ‘His father has all kinds of influence you do not want to tangle with.’

‘If an opportunity arises to ask him a few questions,’ I said, stubborn, ‘I’ll take it.’

And if it doesn’t, I might just have to make that opportunity happen
…

Parker sighed. He moved forwards to rest his hands gently on my upper arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Landers catch the gesture and snap his head away so fast he nearly ricked his neck in his efforts to see nothing untoward going on between us.

‘I trust your judgement, Charlie,’ Parker said at last. ‘Whatever decisions you make in the field, I’ll back them if I have to – you know that, don’t you?’

I was reminded sharply of another time, when Parker’s confidence in my judgement had been sadly lacking, to the point where he’d allowed me to undergo hostile interrogation at the hands of the security services. What had changed? And why?

Horribly aware of Landers’ presence, I forced myself to step back, forced a cool note of distance into my voice. ‘What a shame you didn’t always have such faith, Parker.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dina didn’t want to talk about what happened at the riding club in the period that followed. Instead, she wanted to talk about me.

Or rather, my relationship with my boss. Not an easy topic, because I had no idea about my feelings for Parker at that point.

It was two days since the ambush. Dina’s knee had recovered, thanks to three sessions with a remedial masseur who’d come out to the house and applied ultrasound and various other treatments at some ridiculous cost. All this for a minor injury that probably would have sorted itself, given rest and ice, within a couple of days anyway. What it was to be so pampered.

Dina had an ulterior motive for wanting to be fit, however, which was an upcoming charity auction and gala dinner. It seemed to be the focus of just about anybody who
was
anybody on Long Island.

The biggest surprise, as far as Dina was concerned, was the fact that Torquil Eisenberg had texted to see if she wanted to accompany him. After agonising over the brief wording, she sent a message of assent by the same means, and all the logistics of the exercise were sorted without the pair exchanging a spoken word. Dina seemed to think this was entirely normal. I felt very old.

So, this morning she decided she was feeling sufficiently recovered to hit the boutiques of Fifth Avenue. Caroline Willner graciously lent her personal driver to save the hassle of parking garages, but I relegated him to the passenger seat for the drive into Manhattan – a considerable blow to his ego, if his sniffy silence for the entire journey was anything to go by.

We crossed onto Manhattan Island via the Queens-Midtown Tunnel and I surrendered car keys to our mute chauffeur. After that, Dina and I trailed round countless stores while she added to her already bulging wardrobe.

When it came to clothing, she had variable taste, ranging from some items I thought looked great on her, to others that just didn’t work at all. I baulked at the point she started suggesting outfits for me, especially when I took a sneaky look at the price tags. You could have shifted the decimal points a place to the left and most of them would still have been too rich for my blood.

Eventually, we stopped for a late lunch at Brasserie Les Halles on Park Avenue South, and there she began her interrogation over casual Parisian food.

‘So, what is it with you and Parker Armstrong, huh?’

I put down my glass of sparkling water very precisely. ‘There’s nothing going on between us, Dina. Parker is strictly my boss.’

‘Oh, come on,’ she said, eyes dancing. ‘There’s got to be more to it than that. I saw the way he watches you when you’re not looking.’

How did I tell her that Parker was probably checking for signs I was cracking up? That he knew, better than anyone, what I’d been through – was still going through, every day – with Sean.

‘We’re friends. Good friends. No more than that.’

She was still smiling in a way that was a sudden irritation, but I knew if I let that show she’d assume she was right. I kept my expression neutral as the waiter deposited my French onion soup and Dina’s green salad in front of us. I’d chosen a table inside rather than on the street, quietly insisting on a corner where I could watch the exits. I’d already recced our escape route, should we need one.

‘Is he married? Is that it?’

Give it a rest!

I suppressed a sigh. ‘He was. He’s a widower.’

‘Oh.’ She digested that for a moment. ‘What was she like, his wife? I mean … what happened to her?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, not wanting to admit that until a few months ago I hadn’t known that Parker had ever been married in the first place. A very private man, self-contained. ‘It was before my time.’

‘So, what’s stopping you?’ she pressed, not taking the hint. Her tone turned teasing. ‘I mean, he’s kinda good-looking – for an old guy.’

‘He’s only just turned forty,’ I said. ‘That hardly puts him in his dotage.’

‘And that makes him how much older than you?’

‘Twelve years,’ I said. Not much in the great scheme of things. Sean was thirty-four, sitting halfway between us – and not just in age. I picked up my knife and fork. ‘Maybe Parker’s not my type. Or maybe I’m not his.’

‘Hey, you’re lovely. And if you’d let me take you in hand for a day, you could be stunning,’ Dina countered with a smile. ‘Don’t sell yourself short!’

I remembered Landers telling me not to underestimate myself, too, but his assessment was all to do with how much I might scare a potential opponent, rather than lure them. Was it normal, I wondered, to value his opinion more highly?

‘I’m not a doll you can dress up, Dina,’ I warned.

‘I wouldn’t dare – I have a feeling I’d lose my fingers,’ she said, laughing out loud now, but after a moment she sobered. ‘He’s interested, though, I can tell.’

I applied myself to my soup bowl, cutting through the cheese crust to the rich liquid and onion beneath, chewing, swallowing. When I glanced up, though, Dina was still watching me, her own cutlery poised. ‘Maybe I’m spoken for.’

‘Really?’ she said, letting her hands drop. ‘You have a boyfriend? No way.’