sThe Quiet Wart (7 page)

Sean spent the day getting to know the area around the Berlaymont Building, their hotel, Anna's apartment and Blom's apartment. The Berlaymont Building itself was a massive glass and steel structure, built in the shape of a Las Vegas casino, with four independent wings attached to a central core. Outside, twenty-eight EU flags, one for each member country, flew from high stainless steel posts.
That's odd, why aren't they the countries' own flags? That would make more sense,
Sean thought. Then he was reminded of something that Allsop had said.

‘The EU is the new dictatorship and it wants to make sure all remnants of the old states are wiped out.'

Suddenly his comment made sense.

Sean thought about the number of EU flags he'd seen flying from the buildings in the rest of EU Quarter; they were
everywhere,
and he couldn't remember seeing
any
national flags, not even the Belgian flag. The only comparison he could think of was Nazi Germany, when the red flag with the white disk and black swastika, had flown from every building in the country. The thought made him shudder.
Was Allsop right? Was there something more sinister at work?

The British had always viewed the EU quite comically in Sean's opinion, commonly believing that that they voted on the names of sausages or the shape of a banana. But walking through the new mega-city, which was under permanent construction to house the rapidly expanding EU bureaucracy, the reality was obviously something entirely different, and much more serious.

Before Sean could take a closer look at some of the other huge EU buildings, Terry's voice came over his concealed earpiece.

‘Blom's on the move. He's just leaving the south door of the Berlaymont now.' Sean could almost see Terry grinning as he spoke.

Once Sean had located the south door, he scanned the area looking for his target, as a blonde man in his late fifties exited the glass doors. His leather courier bag looked like a woman's handbag as it sat against his enormous frame.

‘He's huge,' Sean said, as he observed the lumbering blonde-haired frame of Blom stooping to get through the door of the building.

‘He's walking. Probably heading home,' Terry's voice appeared again.

‘Anna's just arrived home safely too,' Phil, one of Terry's men and another veteran of the BW investigation, added.

‘Great. Let's stay alert,' Clive said.

Lurching into a jog, Sean caught up with Terry, who was walking thirty paces behind Blom. They followed him to his apartment building, where Sean left Terry to keep watch and then made his way along the leafy street which bordered Parc Leopold, looking down over the ornate lake and the weeping willows surrounding it. Just above the treetops, the sky was punctured by three glass towers, which jutted out from a massive reflective glass building that Sean had visited earlier: the European Parliament building.

The entrance to Anna's apartment was just a small doorway with a keypad to enter apartment numbers. Once in the hallway, Sean was surprised by how utilitarian the communal spaces were. The white floor tiles and grey walls seemed more suited to a hospital than an apartment block.

Inside, Anna's apartment was just big enough to fit in a small sofa, a tiny dining table and a kitchenette along one wall.
MEPs' expenses mustn't be all they're cracked up to be!
Sean thought. Seeing Sean, the bodyguard left the apartment, choosing to stand guard outside the door instead; offering them some privacy. Anna had just showered and wore a white towelling robe, pulled tight at the waist, with her hair covered by a towel stacked up like a turban.

‘I'm sorry. I can come back later,' Sean said.

‘No, it's fine,' she replied, pouring a glass of wine and offering Sean one, which he gladly accepted.

‘Anything of interest happen today?' Sean asked.

‘No, I did as you said; just got on with work as normal. Nothing out of the ordinary at all,' she said, sitting on the small leather couch in the living room and curling her legs underneath her body. Sean couldn't help but think how much younger she looked like that. Gone was the impressive façade of the MEP and just the girl was left, lost and scared again.

‘Blom's in his apartment,' Sean said.

She just nodded her understanding, gesturing for Sean to join her on the couch.

A pang of guilt shot through him as he sat on the small couch, close enough to Anna that he could smell the soap on her body. He glanced down at the freshly moisturised skin between the folds at the top of her robe and then looked up quickly, blushing as she traced the movements of his eyes.

She smiled, intimating that she wasn't offended by his looks. ‘It's been a while since an attractive man looked at me that way,' she said, leaning forward.

‘I'm surprised at that,' Sean said.

‘I don't mix with many people my own age. Some of the other MEPs hit on me, but I'm not interested in them: they're either too old, or too fat; and always too conceited.' She looked straight into Sean's eyes, letting him know that it wasn't how she felt about him. Then she looked down, drawing Sean's eyes with hers. He noticed that the front of her robe seemed looser now, exposing her breasts almost to the nipple.

Sean looked up again quickly.

‘Liz will never know,' Anna said, still looking into his eyes.

‘I can't,' Sean said turning away. ‘It just wouldn't be fair on Liz.'

‘The world isn't fair, Sean,' Anna said, as she pulled her robe apart and took the towel from her head. Her small breasts were now completely exposed and her large pink nipples were standing erect. She was breathing heavily as she stood and pulled on her belt, slipping the robe off her shoulders onto the floor.

Sean took in the athletic shape of her body; her frame was lean and strong, like a gymnast and she was completely hairless.

A loud rap on the door made Sean jump from the sofa. Pulling her robe back on, Anna opened the door and gave Sean a suggestive glance.

‘Sean, is your radio off? Clive's been trying to get hold of you. Blom's on the move again,' the bulky bodyguard said, as he walked in to the apartment. Standing behind him so that he couldn't see her, Anna licked her lips with her tongue provocatively.

Sean ignored the gesture and fumbled around inside his jacket pocket, while trying to conceal his erection, before he switched the radio back on. ‘Clive?' he said.

‘Sean, don't ever switch that thing off again. Blom's in a restaurant in Place Jourdan. He's just joined three other people for dinner.'

‘Okay. On my way,' Sean said, relieved to have an excuse to leave the small apartment.

As he walked out of the door, Anna parted the bottom of her gown and showed her vagina to him. ‘Later,' she mouthed silently.

*

Blom was sitting at a round table in the window of a small restaurant, tucked into the corner of Place Jourdan, adjacent to Sean's hotel. His huge frame overhung the sides of the flimsy wooden chair and he dwarfed the three other men seated with him. A bottle of red wine and some bread crowded the small circular table between them.

The meeting appeared to be far from convivial. Blom's dinner companions seemed to be arguing vociferously, pointing at each other, mouths open in anger. For his part, Blom didn't seem to be joining in. He merely glanced from one man to the other as the heated argument continued.

Pulling out his phone, Sean quickly took a photo of the group and emailed it to Anna:
Any idea who they are?

The reply came almost immediately:

From left to right: Alain Picquering, MEP, France, Leader of the Socialist Movement Party of Europe (34% of the EU vote); Ruud Ten Harkel, MEP, Netherlands, Leader of the Democratic Alliance of Europe Party (21% of the EU vote); Hans Glass, MEP, Austria, Leader of the European Freedom Front (9% of the EU vote). Strange that they would be dining together. They hate each other!

Sean:
64% of the total vote, wow! Any legitimate reason they'd have to meet?

Anna:
Not that I can think of. They go out of their way to make sure they're never on the same subcommittees.

The group in the small restaurant continued their animated dinner for a further two hours. When it was over, Blom left alone, carrying an A4 manila envelope. He made his way across Place Jourdan and then turned into the Sofitel, making straight for the bar.

‘Looks like he's a drinker,' Clive said, as Blom downed two whiskies in quick succession.

After downing a third whisky, Blom glanced at his watch and ordered another, which this time he sipped at for ten minutes, before he looked out of the window onto Place Jourdan and asked for the bill.

Leaving the bar, he walked out of the revolving door at the front of the hotel and then straight across the road into the car park that centred the small square.

‘He's going to a car. John, bring the Audi around,' Terry said over the mic.

A chauffeur-driven black Maybach was parked in the centre of the square with its engine still running. The chauffeur sat in the driver's seat looking forward, but darkened glass prohibited a view into the rear of the car. Without hesitating, Blom walked straight to the rear door and pulled it open, exchanging a few words with the passenger before climbing in. The moment that the door was open allowed Sean a brief glimpse of another man in the car, but he couldn't make out any features.

Resting his shoulder on the bonnet of another car, Clive was taking photographs rapidly using a long zoom lens, but cursed, noting that he also couldn't get a decent view of the other passenger.

After spending less than a minute in the car, Blom squeezed his body back out onto the car park and closed the door behind him. Almost immediately, the Maybach started to pull away, virtually scraping Blom's side.

‘He's left the envelope in the car,' Sean said.

‘Terry, follow the Maybach. We'll stay with Blom,' Clive said.

Terry quickly ran over to the waiting Audi and jumped in. Two seconds later, he was heading in the same direction as the black limousine.

Hunting for a clue, Sean and Clive followed Blom, as he made his way back to his apartment on Rue Belliard, via three bars, where he downed two whiskies in each.

*

The Café Brussels was a large café in the centre of Place Jourdan, with seats outside overlooking the square. Clive ordered drinks for the three gathered people and began the discussion about what they'd seen, some half an hour earlier.

‘They're still following the Maybach and it seems to be heading towards Germany. Terry sent the plate through. It's German, but we don't have any way of checking who owns it. Any ideas?' He turned to Anna.

Looking down at the table Sean purposely tried not to make eye contact with Anna, who was now dressed in tight jeans and a woollen jacket.

‘The plate's from Leipzig, but that's all I know,' she replied.

Sean couldn't help noticing how her demeanour had changed since the time in her apartment. She had quickly shifted from a steamy temptress to a calculating professional. ‘You said that it was odd that the three party heads met with Blom. Why?' he queried.

‘Just that they make no secret of their animosity towards each other. They have a very different set of beliefs.'

‘Really? Even on the EU?' Sean said.

Anna paused to think briefly. ‘No, you're right. They're all staunch federalists, but Ten Harkel is virtually a communist, while Glas is extremely right wing. They have nothing else in common.'

‘Do you know any of them well enough to ask why they met together and with Blom?' Sean asked.

‘Yes, when I first became an MEP, I was a part of the Democratic Alliance of Europe Party, so I had a number of meetings with Ten Harkel.'

‘Where's this going, Sean? I'm not sure Anna should be sticking her neck out like that. They'll know that she was close to Allsop and if they're involved in some way … ' Clive said.

Anna interrupted. ‘It's okay. I know him well enough to ask and I'm sure he's not connected to anything to do with Nick's death. He has some strange political views, but he's not the type to go to extremes.'

‘Okay, then it's worth asking, I guess. We should know who Blom met in the car park before tomorrow as well,' Clive conceded.

When they left the café, they walked Anna back to her apartment. Sean was glad to have Clive with him, although Anna still managed to discreetly tell him to join her later, opening her eyes wide when making the offer.

Hoping that Clive hadn't noticed the brief interchange, or if he had, he'd understood that it wasn't welcome, Sean walked back to the Sofitel and went straight to his room, showering quickly before calling Liz, who he told nothing of the events in Anna's apartment.

During the call, Liz updated him on her research. ‘Blom is fifty-six years old: a Swede from Gothenburg, but now living in Stockholm. He's been married for twenty-two years and has three children. He was a senior figure in the Swedish Government before taking on the role at the Commission, where he's been for seven years. His upbringing and education were fairly standard: middle-class, good university, etc. His politics are considered just left of centre and he's never been involved in a scandal… that I can find, that is.'

‘He sounds pretty dull,' Sean said.

‘A grey man, like all of them,' Liz replied.

Describing the situation in detail, Sean quickly filled Liz in on the events in the car park.

‘Weird, but unless you know what was in the envelope and who the other person was, it doesn't mean much.'

‘I know. We're working on it. How's Praew?' Sean said.

‘She got an A for her maths homework, she's so pleased and I'm so relieved.' Sean could almost feel Liz's passion over the phone.