Maloney's Law (8 page)

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Authors: Anne Brooke

Tags: #Private Investigators, #Suspense, #General, #Gay, #Private investigators - England - London, #london, #Fiction, #Traditional British, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery Fiction, #Gay Men, #England

BOOK: Maloney's Law
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I raise one eyebrow at Jade. ‘Who?’

‘Old friends from chapel,’ Jade explains. ‘They’ve moved into London, Muswell Hill...when was it, Mum?’

‘Over the summer. I said you’d pop in and—’

‘I know, Mum, I know. I’m dreadful, and I will, honest. It’s just that they’re so...so Baptist and so pregnant.’

Mr. O’Donnell chuckles. ‘That’s not a sin, at least not yet, not even under this Government.’

‘Yes, and you’ll tell me they’re lovely people, and they are, but all we’ll talk about when I go ’round is Chapel and babies, and I know zilch about either at the moment.’

Jade rests her chin in her hands and looks so disheartened that I give her shoulder a quick squeeze, and her mother hugs her. ‘Quite right, you’re young yet, darling. There’s all the time in the world for whatever you want to do. But there are other subjects apart from religion and babies, and they’d love to see you. Do pop in if you can.’

‘Yes, I will, I promise.’

After lunch, we throw ourselves into the drill of washing-up. There’s no dishwasher here, just a strict line of willing helpers organised into military efficiency by Mrs. O’Donnell. Then, all good deeds done, Jade and her mother drift back into the living room for coffee and chat. To give them some mother-daughter privacy, the menfolk, such as we are, take a stroll around the allotment.

I’m not a fan of gardening, but other people’s enthusiasms fascinate me. For Jade’s father, it’s nature and anything to do with growing things. Jade once told me he knows all the Latin names for every vegetable and fruit you can think of, and I don’t doubt it. Today, I find myself nodding intelligently when faced with tomatoes, propagation, the greenhouse, how difficult the weather has been for sprouts, and how many potatoes they’ve grown over the season, whenever that may be.

Half-way ’round the now-familiar stroll, at the furthest point from the house, Mr. O’Donnell pauses.

‘Paul?’

‘Yes?’ I stop, a little ahead of him, and turn round. His grey hair is framed by the sun.

‘We’ve been — I mean, Jade’s mother and myself — well, may I ask you a question?’

‘Sure.’ I stuff my hands in my pockets and try to look as if this is a normal part of the tradition. The truth is I’ve never seen Jade’s father look quite so uncomfortable before, and I’ve never heard him say such a long and jagged sentence either. We’re treading on new territory here. I hope we can both navigate it.

‘Do you...? Are you and my daughter...? I mean you both get on so well, do you have intentions?’

Oh, God. Of all the questions running through my head, I’ve never imagined this one, and, for the first time ever, I regret my decision to ask Jade not to tell her parents about me. If I’d been more honest in the past, this wouldn’t be happening now.

‘Ah, well, I...’ Inspiration dribbles to emptiness and I look away and then at the ground, rubbing my face. ‘I’m very fond of Jade, Mr. O’Donnell, of course, I think the world of her.’

‘Yes, we know that. It was why—’

I push on regardless, ‘And we’re very good friends, we always will be, she’s a wonderful person, but I...I don’t think we’re cut out to be a couple.’

‘Oh.’

When I finally look my best friend’s father in the eyes, his frown is as sharp as winter.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, trying to twist things back to how they were but knowing, even as I’m saying it, that it might be impossible. ‘I’m sorry, but then again, Jade’s had a lucky escape. She can do a hundred times better then me, more, I expect.’

He says nothing in reply. Silent, awkward, all fragile companionship gone, we head back to his home.

‘How was the men’s talk today then?’ Jade says but then, as she looks at the both of us, her smile fades.

I mumble something incomprehensible; whilst behind her halo of blonde hair, Mrs. O’Donnell gives her husband a questioning glance and is rewarded with a small shake of the head in return. The test has been given to me, and I’ve proved worthless.

The next two hours and nine minutes last a month, maybe more. By the time we leave, I wish I’d managed to learn the gift of honesty before it came to this. The O’Donnells have always been good to me, and this is how I repay them.

I can’t tell Jade. Maybe she knows more than she lets on though, as it’s only after thirty-four minutes in the car that she throws in the subtle question after talking for a full five minutes about the latest Big Brother reject.

‘What happened in the garden?’ she asks, touching up her still perfect mascara in the vanity mirror. ‘You looked devastated when you came back in after lunch. Both of you.’

‘What? No, nothing. Nothing happened,’ I tell her. ‘I was worrying about the case, that’s all.’

‘Did you talk to Dad about it?’

‘No, of course not. You know I wouldn’t do that. It’s unfair.’

Jade puts her mascara back into her green velvet make-up bag and closes it with a snap. ‘He wouldn’t mind, he’s very fond of you. You know that. I thought for a second he might have been bringing up religion and children with you, like Mum did with me.’

‘Come on, she was only asking about those friends of yours. Whom I’ve never heard of, by the way. Not that I’m accusing you of holding out on me but—’

‘I wasn’t,’ she says, not responding to my teasing. ‘Honest, it’s just that Steve and Naomi are people from the past, and I don’t know if I’ve got anything in common with them now. I’m not sure if I can go back.’

‘Too many Baptists and babies?’

‘No,’ she hesitates, not like the Jade I know. ‘I suppose I’d love that, too, one day. To go back to Chapel and have babies and stuff. All the stuff everyone else ends up with, everyone but you and me, that is. Maybe I’m just jealous, maybe that’s why I’m scared of seeing them.’

She stops, and there’s nothing I can say to help, but because it’s her and I love her I try anyway.

‘Look, don’t put yourself down. You’re worth more than all of them put together, and you’ll get all the stuff you want in the end, just you wait and see. Babies and husbands and chapels and God knows what else. Steve and Naomi will be jealous as hell of you one day.’

‘Yeah, I know, maybe.’ She reaches out and pats me on the knee. ‘I’m sure it will be fine. I’ll get there in the end, and so will you. We both will. As long as you’re not...I mean, and I’m not nagging I swear it, you will be careful, won’t you? About everything?’

When I glance across at her, for a moment I think she might be about to cry before realising she’s just flicking away a loose eyelash.

‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘We’re both going to be fine. As I say, you’ll have six husbands and fifty children, at least. Not only that but I’ll finish this case in record time with my top-notch professional skills and be richer than in my wildest dreams. At least for a couple of months. And, yes, I’ll be careful. Everything’s under control.’

At home I listen to this morning’s message again twice and wonder if, no matter what I say, not everything is under control after all.

‘Just a warning,’ the unfamiliar male voice, foreign accent unmissable, says, ‘stay away from Delta Egypt.’

Chapter Six

‘You did what?’ There’s a tremor in Dominic’s voice I haven’t heard before, and when he places his water glass on the office table it rocks once before settling.

I repeat my last sentence, the one explaining how I exited the premises of Delta Egypt on my second visit. So far it’s been a tale cut short as I haven’t yet told him about the CD or its copy, or what Blake said to me about Teresa, and I haven’t decided whether I will or not.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, of course. I’m here, aren’t I?’

Sitting down opposite me, he says, ‘So what did you find out while you were there? Anything worth my while?’

A second’s hesitation and then I shake my head, relaxing back into my seat and taking care to keep eye contact with him, ‘No, I’m afraid not. Not so far.’

This is true, as it stands. What I’m leaving out are the suspicions I have and, most important of all, my instincts about Blake Kenzie himself. The man’s a criminal, no doubt of it, and one with something to hide. The question is what.

Dominic smiles, ‘You said you met Blake. What did you think?’

‘A powerful man, that’s easy to see, and someone who knows what he wants and how to get it. You wouldn’t want him as your enemy. Intelligent, cunning, dangerous. He didn’t like me, but in my business, that’s not surprising.’

‘Very similar to myself then, apart from your last statement.’

The palms of my hands grow clammy. For a moment I have no idea what to say, or even what he might expect me to say, and all I can do is gulp back the ball of confusion lodged in my throat.

Dominic’s next question takes us back to our previous course, thank God. ‘Do you like him?’

‘No.’

‘I see. Perhaps you’re right, Paul, perhaps you’re right.’

There’s no time to ask what he means by this as already he’s closed the subject and moved on. I wonder what he’s running from and why.

‘So,’ he says, tapping his water glass with one fingertip. ‘I assume you managed to steal at least some of their records while you were at Delta and, if so, which ones?’

‘I prefer the phrase “copied on behalf of a client”, Dominic, if you don’t mind.’

He just shrugs. ‘As you wish. But, please, tell me what you’ve found.’

‘Nothing, yet. It all looks above board to me,’ I tell him. ‘Jade’s working hard on getting underneath to anything strange, and I expect to—’

He snorts, and I stop. While he waits, I reach for my water and take one small sip. ‘Look, Dominic, I know you’re paying me good money, and if there’s anything to find out — though I doubt it — I’ll find it out for you, but I’d appreciate it if you kept your feelings about those I choose to work with to yourself. I’ve no idea why you’ve never liked Jade, but she’s my friend. Not only that, she’s the best computer hacker I know, and I wouldn’t have got this far without her. If after this case is finished you’re any better off in terms of knowledge, it’ll be her you ought to thank.’

He nods. ‘I understand.’

I nod back and after a second we break eye contact.

‘As I was saying,’ I continue, ‘I expect to be able to give you a more complete report by the end of the week. This meeting was just to keep you updated.’

That’s not entirely true. To do that, I could easily have called him, but I wanted to see the look on his face when I told him what had happened in Egypt. I wanted to see if he already knew about it or not. I’ve done what I came to do, but I’m no better off; he’s given nothing away. It’s time to leave. Before he begins to think I’ve called the meeting because I’m suspicious rather than love-sick. Maybe I’m both.

‘So, I’ll ring you within the next three days, let you know what we’ve found out. Before I go, I do have one question for you.’

‘Fine.’

‘Have you told Blake anything about me, anything personal?’

He pauses.

‘No,’ he says. ‘What’s there to tell, now?’

I head for the door, but once again he doesn’t let me go without a final comment for my blood to mull over.

‘There is something I believe you’re wrong about, Paul.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Jade isn’t the only one I ought to be thanking. It seems to me you’ve already done more than enough for the fee I’m paying you. In Egypt alone.’

I’d given up smoking the day after my birthday, three years, ten months, three weeks, and six days ago, but now from instinct I still reach for my pocket outside Dominic’s office. There’s something about what’s been happening to me since meeting up with my ex-lover that’s made the years between seem as if they’ve never existed. It makes me feel as if I’ve been asleep for too long and woken up not knowing much. About anything.

The sun is hot against my face although it feels a thousand times lighter than in Cairo. Safer, too. The City, the last full week in August, and the only one not looking forward to the bank holiday is me. I start to walk, hands in pockets, eyes focused on the pavement in front of me, out of habit glancing from side to side now and then, though there’s no need. Not here.

I decide to take a bus, to hurry back to the familiarity of the office. The urge to be there makes my skin prickle and my legs twitch. This is the moment in a case I love most, the moment where I might be about to discover something, however small and obscure, that will make a difference to the way things turn out. It might be another chance to change an injustice into a justice, a chance I never had with Teresa. It’s always been that way, ever since...ever since.

Still, this time it’s different, but if Jade and I find something out, where will it take us?

The bus is crowded, the air inside filled with the scent of flesh and flowers. People who work in the City don’t take the bus; it’s only those passing through who have to do that. I wouldn’t want Dominic’s job, even if I had the talent for it or the will. It strikes me how little I know of his past in all the cuttings I’ve collected of him. He never speaks of it. Even when we were together, it was never a subject for discussion. We never asked about each other’s parents, childhood, any of the vast sea of personal history we all carry in our bones. I know why I didn’t say anything about my past. Why didn’t he? Maybe we both have something to hide. Maybe, when he dumped me, Dominic was right; we never really had the truth of each other.

No, that’s not it either. We were caught in the net of his marriage and my obsession, for yes, that’s what it was, and still in a sense is. His marriage, a given. My obsession? A factor I’ve come to terms with now; all that counselling, all Jade’s nagging concern must have done something for me in the end. I’ve lived a kind of a life since Dominic, haven’t I? The years have moved past and the seasons come and gone.

But inside I’m still the same. All that professional support wasted. When Dominic rings, I’m there, living, breathing, pulsating for him, no matter what he does. Seeing him after so long has been like waking up from a coma and grasping the chance to live again.

Why did he say there was nothing personal to tell Blake about me? Does he think that? Really?

When will I be free of it, this rock-hard certainty that, even when the book between the two of us seems closed, somehow, somewhere there’ll be another chapter not yet written?

Time goes by that even I make no effort to calculate, and when the waves of memory and desire become too strong and rich for me, I get off the bus, even though it’s still several stops away from the one I need. No matter. Any more trips into a history I shouldn’t be revisiting will mean I’ll never get the job done. The fresh air, or what passes for fresh air in London, will make me sharp again.

As I walk, the buildings around me loom tall and dominant, the people bustling around, in and through them just temporary glitches in the permanent mass of stone and brick. The houses of Hackney, more, of London, will be here long after the small history I bring with me is gone. Everything I feel now is a brief dream only, but a powerful one. At least to me.

It starts to rain, a late summer storm, and I hunch deeper into the collar of my jacket, the droplets easing their way through my hair and onto my neck. At least it’s warm, but even so I quicken my pace as the office comes into view, brushing past one or two groups of young men loitering, out of school and out of luck. At the bottom of the steps to the front door, someone pushes into me. I sidestep away and, with all that’s been happening over the last week, raise my hands to defend myself against any fresh attack.

No need, it’s just a tramp. He mutters something that could be an apology or a curse. There’s a glimpse of bleared eyes and shaggy beard and then he’s gone, weaving his way down the wet street, bottle of shop-brand whisky clutched in his fingers.

I smile at my own foolishness, thinking that if the old bloke had waited I would have given him something. Instead I take a breath of warm, muggy air and make my way inside.

Jade is working, blonde head down and staring at her computer screen as if it holds the secret to the world around us. I hope it does.

She looks up as the door clicks shut behind me and nods, ‘Hi there. You look happy. Solved the case yet?’

‘Yeah, I wish. No, I’m just smiling because I thought some tramp was out to get me. Do you think I’m getting paranoid in my old age?’

‘No more than normal,’ she shrugs, still tapping away.

I hang my jacket up, noting how she hasn’t mentioned where I’ve been. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. How’re you getting on? Any luck?’

‘We-ll,’ she hesitates, and I stride across to lean over her shoulder and peer at the list of dates and numbers on the screen.

‘What’s that? Anything Dominic might want to know?’

‘I’m not sure yet. It all seems normal for a business: information about markets; lists of investments; PR plans; all the usual stuff. There is one thing, though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Call me suspicious, but it’s all too perfect. Isn’t that what you thought when you looked at it over the weekend? It’s as if here is a series of files Delta Egypt has had made especially for people who might come along and want to steal their secrets. Every company in the world has secrets, otherwise what’s the point of industrial espionage? Not Delta though. Their files are squeaky-clean. You could put a one-year-old child in the middle of them, and there’d be nothing to give its parents a moment’s worry.’

‘So we can mark Blake Kenzie with a clean bill of health when we report to Dominic. And then we can take the money and run, can we?’

Even as I’m saying it, I know it’s the best way forward for me and maybe for all of us. Drop the report on Dominic’s desk, walk away, and never see him again.

‘No, it’s not that simple,’ she says, fingers clicking on the keyboard and taking us both to a screen I haven’t seen before. ‘I also found this. It wasn’t obvious, as it was hidden, rather cleverly, too, but I wanted to check everything, so here it is.’

I can’t see anything different from the list of words and dates she had on the screen before, except that there are more columns of them. Then I look at the new column names: Starlight, Dancer, Bluesky, Aqua.

Bluesky?

I grab my chair and sit down next to her. ‘Bluesky? The dead woman?’

‘Yes. Unless the coincidence is off the scale.’

‘Unlikely.’ I’m trying to think, but the connections aren’t coming. ‘Blake knows her? Has information on her in some way?’

Jade shakes her head, ‘He must do, but...’

‘But what?’

‘But it’s not just him. I found this spreadsheet linked from the DG Allen Enterprises folder.’

My mouth goes dry. ‘Meaning if Blake knows something about Bluesky, then Dominic might, too. Or Blake thinks he does. Just what the hell is going on?’

‘I don’t know, but there’s more.’

She scrolls down the spreadsheet, half-way down a page with an entry under Aqua; it says: pick-up and.

‘And what?’ I whisper.

‘That’s just it, Paul,’ she begins, her explanation giving me time to catch my breath. ‘And what? I started doing other stuff, but it kept nagging away, and in the end I came back to it. I went through it all again, and something clicked. You see, if you take any of these words or dates, they look just like a jumble of meaningless information: 31 Jan, call; when ready, Mar 20; carry on, Jun 0. But I think they’re more than that. I think they’re half of something else, the end of the date, the beginning of the phrase. I wouldn’t have spotted it if it hadn’t been for that last extra word under Aqua. And then again, maybe I wouldn’t have seen it at all, or even bothered with it if it hadn’t been for knowing about Bluesky. Where the phrases have been placed, they look like a copy of something else that’s been deleted or partially saved in the course of being transferred or downloaded. It can’t be that though, they’re too patterned; a partial transfer would be much more random. Still, we were lucky to spot it. I was just being thorough.’

‘As you always are. Thank you, good work.’

She blushes and gives me half a smile. ‘You’re welcome. But we’re no better off. Without the other half of the file, we still don’t know what it means.’

‘No, but now we know there’s something there, something to find out. No matter what we’ve been told.’

‘That’s what you like best, Paul, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ The sudden switch in subject matter almost leads to a breach of PI Rule Number Six: Never let your staff be more than one step ahead of you, and certainly never show it if they are.

‘It’s what you like best,’ Jade says again. ‘The chance for discovery, bringing a new fact to light. It gets you every time, doesn’t it?’

‘Is that a bad thing for an investigation agency? If we didn’t want to find things out, where would we be?’

‘Sure, but what are we going to do about finding the missing half of the file? Maybe I can go to Egypt this time, get the half you left behind in a more civilised and female way, without having to jump out a window?’

‘Dream on.’ The thought of Jade mixed up with Blake’s mob makes me shudder. ‘Anyway, if Blake’s anything like the man I imagine him to be, and there’s anything else he doesn’t want me to find, it’ll be somewhere I’d never think of in a thousand years, or he’ll have destroyed it.’

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