I, Spy? (12 page)

“So,” Harvey turned to me, flashing his perfect white teeth again, “how are you finding the aviation industry?”

I hated it. I hated every part of it. People should go back to ships and trains.

“Oh, I’m loving it,” I said brightly. “Especially the people. They’re all so kind.”

He nodded. “I guess it takes a special kind of person to do that kind of job.”

Yes. A complete sociopath.

“Of course. It takes a lot of patience and understanding, and you have to love working with people.”

“Have you always wanted to do it?”

No. Even when I was a little girl and there was still some sort of glamour to flying, before the days of the low-cost airline, I always thought being an air hostess must be the worst job. Like being a waitress in a tin can.

“Always,” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster. “Ever since I was a little girl. It always looked so glamorous.”

“I guess it still does,” Harvey said. “So, do you get to fly long-haul? Weekends in Maui, that sort of thing?”

Oh, the bliss. But your average Ace crew went to Belfast and back five times a day and slept nowhere but at home. Alone.

“Well, not so far with Ace. But I have my sights set on BA and Malaysian. I just adore their uniforms.”

Harvey gave me a quizzical look. “Don’t you have to be, um, well, Asian to do that?”

Do you? I had no idea. “Well, this is the twenty-first century,” I beamed. “So tell me about you. What are you doing here in Rome?”

“Oh, business,” Harvey said with an easy smile.

“What kind of business?”

“I work for a cell phone company.”

“Oh, really? Which one?” That reminded me. I needed to get out my phone, start praying I got overseas coverage, call Luke, and give him hell.

“It’s a division of Eurotel. We’re setting up links with Europe, wider coverage, that sort of…”

I listened politely as the taxi sped at a truly alarming rate through the pretty Roman streets. I swear, they drove like lemmings. Put your foot down and aim for your destination. Ten points if you hit an old lady. It’s a good job this is the HQ of a world religion, so none of the prayers have to go too far. Our driver seemed to consider a red light to be an advisory signal. Shall I stop? Eh, no, don’t feel like it today.

We swung round the Coliseum like something out of
The Italian Job
and roared past some rearing ancient columns.

“Wow,” I said, like
Pretty Woman
in that hotel.

“It’s cool, huh?” Harvey said. “I think that was the Roman forum or something.”

“Where Caesar was killed?”

“I think so.”

“So where’s this hotel?” I asked as the driver took another bend at about a hundred and twenty miles an hour. My palms were nearly bleeding from digging my nails in.

“The Piazza Trinità di Monti.
Just off the Via Tritone?”

I nodded like I understood.

“It’s not far from the Trevi Fountain.”

I nodded again.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Harvey said, laughing, and I blushed and shrugged.

We pulled up and Harvey paid, which I was glad for, because I don’t understand Euros. I made a vague promise to pay him back and went rushing inside to the desk.

It was all very grand.

“
Inglese
?” I asked hopefully, and the immaculate woman at the desk nodded and smiled.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone. A friend. He’s staying here… David Wright?”

She nodded. “
Si
. He has just checked in. Would you like to leave him a message?”

I shook my head. “No, I just…” Damn it, Harvey was watching me and he’d be expecting me to hand over a camera. “Could you tell me his room number?” Probably I’d get told no, for security reasons.

She flicked through her computer. “Twenty-seven.”

So much for security.

I nodded gratefully, then looked around for a second. I could never afford a place like this. There was marble everywhere.

Harvey, meanwhile, was happily checking in, in fluent Italian, ordering English and American papers for the morning (I think, although he could really have been commenting on the weather. My Italian is pretty much limited to a Pizza Express menu), and taking his key. He glanced at me.

“Where are you staying?”

I shrugged. “I don't know yet.”

“Don’t the crew have a hotel?”

Actually, the crew were probably taking a return trip. Or possibly sleeping in the plane. Damn them. Damn Wright. Damn Luke.

Yeah. It was all his fault.

“Yeah, but I have to find my own. It’s a newbie thing, it’s like a, like a, an initiation thing.”

He frowned. “What, are they like the Freemasons or something?”

I gave a weak smile. “Yeah, something.”

“Why don’t you stay here?”

I’m afraid my eyes boggled.

“I, uh…” I looked down at my rather shabby-looking uniform. How could I tell him there was no way on any of my salaries, real or fictional, that I could afford a place like this?

“I can lend you some money,” Harvey said softly.

It was a tempting prospect. But then how would I pay him back? I’d have to give him surety. I’d have to give him my address. He’d probably expect me to sleep with him.

Although that wouldn’t be so terrible a prospect.

“No,” I said, summoning a smile from the depths of my ancient Ace training, “thanks. That’s what credit cards are for.” To the receptionist I said, “I’d like a room, please. Just for tonight.”

Harvey had a suit carrier, the sort I wasn’t supposed to allow as hand luggage but usually did, out of boredom. It was the sort of bag that could carry everything for an overnight stay. I had my Ace bag with a hairbrush, lip gloss, body spray and handcuffs. Not what you call overnight essentials.

Well, depending on what kind of overnight you had in mind.

I said a reluctant goodbye to the handsome American and went to find my room. It was gorgeous. There were toiletries and everything. I just really wished I had some spare clothes. I could hardly wander around in just my uniform, could I?

Unless they had a laundry service. I checked the room service card. They had a damn laundry service! Yes! If I just stayed in my room, I could get my clothes washed and go home in them in the morning. Easy.

I called Reception and they said they could have it done in half an hour. I started running a bath. Things were not as bad as they seemed. I had to remember that. Things were never as bad as they seemed.

I switched on my two phones and used one to send a text to Chalker that I’d be staying at Angel’s tonight. That would stop them from calling home. At least Tammy was being looked after. Then I used the other phone to call Luke.

“You let him through,” I said.

There was a pause.

“Sophie?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Rome,” I said. “I’m in Wright’s hotel. You let him through. Sven let him board. I followed him like a good secret agent and they thought I was crew. So now I’m spending next month’s grocery bill on getting my uniform washed in a ludicrously expensive hotel because I’m fucking stuck here until the next flight out tomorrow morning. And if you tell me to stay in Rome and trail Wright I’ll be forced to improvise a weapon on you.”

Luke laughed. I hung up.

He called back in a few seconds. “I lost the connection,” he said.

“No. I hung up.”

“Look, Soph, I’m sorry. He slipped through.”

“Slipped through?
Slipped bloody through
? Luke, remind me in words of one syllable just what you do for a living?”

“Erm,” he said. “I’m a spy.”

I suppose he thought that was clever.

“So how could you let a dangerous criminal just slip onto a plane? He could have been armed.”

“I doubt it. Security isn’t that bad. And I don’t really think he’s dangerous.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even told me why I’m following him.”

Luke sighed. “Promise not to get mad?”

I said nothing. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

“He’s not a dangerous criminal. That we know,” he added quickly. “But he’s interested in buying Ace. He already owns WES,” Wright Engineering Services, of
course
, “and there’s a suspicion he’s hijacking Ace planes to bring the price down.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that was ludicrous, then I thought about all the delays we’d been having. All those planes off tech.

Having to borrow from Titan because we didn’t have enough to cover for our own. Low-cost carriers don’t have spare planes.

“Suppose you’re not lying to me,” I said eventually, “tell me what I’m going to do out here?”

There was another long pause while Luke came up with something.

“Well, since you’re there and all, I sort of need you to get into his room,” he said.

“His room?”

“Yes. Do you know where it is?”

“It’s on my floor.”

“Great. Get yourself in there, have a look around, check for papers and things. Use the camera in your phone to take pictures.”

“I don’t get it. Why is this so important?”

“Sophie. The future of your employment hangs in the balance,” Luke said severely, and I knew he wasn’t going to tell me the real reason. Well, fine, then. I wasn’t going to snoop around Wright’s room.

“You do this for me,” Luke added in Luca’s voice, “I take you out for dinner.”

I sniffed. “That better not be an empty promise.”

“No, sure, I’ll take you out. What do you like? Tomorrow’s Friday, I could—”

“Tomorrow’s Friday?”

He hesitated. “Erm, unless they changed the calendar. Today’s Thursday.”

“Oh, God! Luke, I need you to do something for me. This is really urgent. Life and death stuff.”

“You didn’t forget your medication, did you?”

“I need you to go over to my flat and—”

“How am I supposed to get into your flat?”

How am I supposed to convey a sarcastic look down the phone?

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I said heavily. “This is really important so I’ll take you through it step by step. Are you writing this down?”

Luke sounded puzzled. “Tell me.”

“Okay. The video control is the large grey one. It says Philips on the top. You need to—”

“Wait, Sophie, are you telling me to set your video?”

I shrugged. “It’s very important.”

“What, is your mum on TV or something?”

“No,” I said, wondering how he could not know, “it’s Thursday. Sky One. Eight pm…?”

Silence.

“
Buffy
,” I said. “You have to tape it.”

“I thought you said this was life and death,” Luke said eventually.

“It is! Buffy’s life and all the demon deaths… Oh, come on. I haven’t seen this one and if I don’t tape it, I’ll never see it and I’ll have to buy the videos and they’re really expensive… It’s award-winning TV,” I added defensively.

Luke gave a great sigh. “Okay. I’ll set the video. Eight o’clock?”

“Yes. And then set it for
Friends
as well.”

“You really watch all this?”

“Only once a week. And then
Scrubs
is on at ten.”

I could almost see him shaking his head. “I’ll tape it for you.”

I opened my mouth to tell him which tape to use, then decided not to push it. “Okay. Thanks. Now tell me how the hell I get into Wright’s room without him noticing me? I only have my uniform and it’s not exactly subtle,” I looked down at the turquoise-ness of it.

Plus I was kind of conspicuous in it on the flight. I might have accidentally dropped a Danish pastry into Wright’s lap.

“What time is it over there? About half six, right? Shops stay open late. Go and buy something.”

“I’ve already got to pay for this hotel!”

“Should have got somewhere cheaper. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“But—”

He was gone.

Swearing very colourfully, I sloshed around in the bath and used up all the free toiletries as I waited for my clothes to come back. When they did, I got dressed very gratefully, feeling dreadful for having no Euros to tip with, grabbed my bag and set off into the city.

Within seconds I was lost. I found the hotel again, went in to ask for a map and directions for the shops. And then I found an ATM and got some Euros—which was highly confusing, since the machine was all in Italian. And then I found the shops.

Jesus, it was tempting. Gucci and Missoni and Valentino. I didn’t dare go in. Not in my uniform. I found some cheaper shops and started searching.

I’d noticed the hotel staff wearing navy suits with white blouses. Not hard to copy, although not cheap, either, for something I’d never wear again. But I did find an incredible Gucci dress for next to nothing, and bought that too. And then a small suitcase to carry it all home with. And some toiletries and basic make-up. And some shoes, because I might want to wear my dress, and it’d be a shame to have to clump around in my skanky work shoes. And a little bag, because it matched the shoes and because my Ace bag was huge and horrible. And then a pashmina, even though I know they’re very last-millennium, but Rome in April is not as warm as you might think.

And then I lugged it all back to the hotel, and met Harvey in the lobby.

“I see you found the shops,” he stared at all my bags.

“Well, I had to buy everything I could,” I said defensively. “It took me so long to find them I may never get back there again.”

He laughed. “Are you busy tonight?” he said. “Meeting up with your airline friends?”

Friends? I hoped they all got crabs.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said, my all-purpose answer.

“Well, if you decide not to, maybe we could have dinner? You could tell me all about the airline business and I could bore you with cell phone frequencies.”

What was the alternative? Sitting looking at my fabulous dress and cursing Luke for all eternity?

“That sounds great,” I said, smiling warmly at Harvey, my saviour.

He beamed back at me. “I’ll meet you down here at eight-thirty?”

I glanced at my watch in panic. It was already quarter-to.

“Can we make it nine?” I said. “I have some things to do first.”