Sure Fire (11 page)

The hotel lobby was large and impersonal. There was a big seating area off to one side, close to the main bar. Jade had found a high-backed chair where she could sit without being seen by the staff at the reception desk. She had angled the chair so that it was facing a large fireplace.

There was no fire burning and she wasn't interested in the ornate fireplace itself. She was watching the mirror above the mantelpiece – in which she could see the reflected images of Rich and Ardman. She couldn't see Ardman's face, so she was pretty sure that he could not see her – even if he was looking.

She and Rich had sat together here for a while,
watching the man, looking round to check he really was alone. So far as they could tell, he had brought no one with him. When they were as sure as they could be, Rich called Jade's mobile on Dad's and went to join Ardman in the bar.

Now Jade was listening intently to the conversation between her brother and the man from MI5, or whatever it was. Their voices were quiet and she had to strain to hear, even with the phone volume up full.

“There is something I think you should hear,” Ardman was saying.

“Better be short,” Rich told him. “I'm out of here any minute now.”

“It won't take long. I have it on an MP3 file, which I understand is the way these things are done these days.”

“Great, going to let me copy it on to my iPod, are you?” Rich said.

“I thought I'd play it on this actually,” Ardman replied. “If I put it here by the phone, then Jade can hear it as well. I assume that's OK?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

There was a pause, and in the mirror Jade could
see Ardman reaching down to put something on the table between himself and Rich. She guessed it was a digital recorder from which he'd play back the file so they could hear.

“What you're about to hear,” Ardman said, “is covered by the Official Secrets Act.” He paused and Jade could almost hear him smiling. “Not that it makes much difference, but legally I have to tell you that.”

“Covering yourself?”

“I like to do things properly. Now, this is a recording of a telephone conversation made last week. I'm not permitted to tell you who is speaking or why the conversation was recorded. But I think you'll recognise the voices and you'll guess why the gentleman's calls were all recorded. May I begin?”

“Get on with it,” Rich told him.

Jade pressed the phone even harder against her ear, wondering what she was about to hear. When the recording started it was louder than the voices of Rich and Ardman, and she could actually hear it quite clearly.

The first voice said just one word: “Yes?” But Jade knew the voice at once – it was her father.

“Is that Mr Chance?” a woman's voice asked – tentative and slightly nervous.

“How did you get this number?” Chance demanded.

“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “They did tell me this might be more difficult than… I got it from, er, well, your employers. I think. They were a bit vague at the Ministry when I—”

Chance cut her off. “What do you want?”

“My name is—”

Her name was obscured by a high-pitched bleep. Jade grimaced and pulled the phone from her ear, but she had recognised Mrs Gilpin. Hesitating, she put it back, in time to hear Ardman's voice say quietly:

“Sorry about that.”

Mrs Gilpin's voice went on: “I have some news for you, Mr Chance. It's not good, I'm afraid. And… well, it may be a bit of a shock too. Are you sitting down, may I ask? I think perhaps you should.”

“I'm used to bad news. And shocks. Just tell me.”

“If you're sure. It's about Sandra, Sandra Chance.”

There was a pause, and then Chance said slowly: “Go on. I'm sitting down.”

“There's been an accident. A road accident. It was
– there was nothing anyone could do. She didn't feel anything, it was instant. I… I'm sorry, I'm not doing this very well.”

“You're doing fine. Thank you for letting me know. But it's been a long time since I last saw Sandra.”

“But, the thing is—”

“Thank you,” Chance insisted. Jade could hear the pent-up emotion in his voice. It might have been a long time, but he was feeling it. She knew exactly how he must have felt. It seemed an age since they had come to the school and taken Rich and herself out of class to tell them… Hearing it again, Jade wiped her eyes with her free hand and wondered if Rich was all right. His image in the mirror seemed blurred and indistinct.

“I'm sure you have lots of other people you need to inform,” Chance was saying stiffly. “Friends, family…”

“Er, no, actually,” the woman said. “There's no one else. No one but you. I don't think she ever… Well, that's not for me to say. But I thought you should know straight away. About Sandra I mean, but also that…”

“That what?”

“Well, that your children are fine. They weren't involved.”

“My… children?”

“They've taken it very badly of course, but they're OK. They're good kids. Tough. They'll be all right. Only, well…”

“My
children
?” Chance said again. Jade could imagine him wondering what the hell was going on, what he was being told. After all these years.

“The funeral is tomorrow,” the woman was saying. “I'm sorry it's not much warning, but it did take a long time to find you. Sandra left a letter that indicated you worked for the Civil Service. It was been quite difficult tracking you down… But if you can get here I'm sure Rich and Jade will appreciate it.”

There was silence from the other side of the call, so the woman went on.

“Your children need their father more than ever now. They need you, Mr Chance.”

Jade felt tears in her eyes as she watched the blurred image of Ardman lean forward in the mirror. The recording stopped with a click.

Rich sat frozen, all thoughts of leaving gone from his mind. In front of him, Ardman was selecting another file on the tiny personal MP3 player.

“This is rather more recent,” he was saying. “Again, I can't tell you who the people are, but suffice it to say that one is the same man as on the previous recording, and the other man you have also met, albeit briefly. He is now, sadly, deceased.”

“Phillips,” Rich muttered.

If Ardman heard him, he gave no sign. “I'm sorry to have to do this to you,” he said. “To both of you.”

“I think I may be being watched,” Chance's voice said.

“You sure?” another voice asked. Rich recognised it immediately as Phillips – though he sounded understandably calmer and less stressed than when Rich and Jade had met him.

“No. They're good, whoever they are. But it's even more urgent I get the sample to you.”

“Yes, well, you were supposed to do that the other day and you never showed.”

“I had to go to a funeral.”

There was a pause, then Phillips said: “I heard. I'm sorry. I heard about the kids too – they OK?”

“Do you mean are they coping? Or am I coping?”

There was a short laugh. “Both, I suppose.”

“Then, they're OK. They've gone out for the morning. God knows what I do with them when they get back. I need to sort out schools. It's a mess.”

“A real pain, right? Something you could do without.”

Chance's reply was surprisingly sharp. “I didn't mean it's messing
me
up. It's them I'm worried about. What sort of father am I? What sort of mess am I making for them? Their mum's just died and their world's turned upside down and what I am doing to help? I don't even know where to start.”

“Yeah… Well, I'm sure you'll do your best.”

“And what if that isn't good enough? These are my kids we're talking about. And the best I can do is to try and get them out of the way until it's safe to look after them properly. Have you any idea how that makes me feel? Have you?”

Rich was sitting open-mouthed as he listened. It sounded like John Chance, but what he was saying seemed so at odds with how he and Jade had imagined he felt.

“Look, John,” Phillips said, “I have to get this
sample from you. We need to get it analysed and find out what Vishinsky is up to. I'll come over this evening. Better when it's dark. When the kids are asleep.”

“No,” Chance said. “Not here.”

“You really think the flat's being watched?”

“I can't take that risk.”

“Safer at the flat than anywhere else though.”

“For you and me maybe,” Chance agreed. “But not for my children. I can't risk them getting involved. I'm not putting them at risk, not at all, not for myself or you or anyone. Got that?”

Phillips seemed to sense Chance's determination. “OK. Whatever you say. Look… I'll call later and we can discuss a good meeting place. You… get yourself sorted. Do whatever you have to do.”

“Thanks. I don't know really where to start. But that's it, isn't it? A new start. When I went up to Sandra's funeral, I had no idea. I mean – they told me there were two children, twins, and they're mine and I have to look after them. But that's so sort of abstract. I thought, just pack them off to school. Nothing to do with me. But then you meet them and they're actual real people. I can see so much of myself
in them – in both of them. They're stubborn and argumentative and angry and unhelpful. But I can't blame them for being like me, can I?”

“Don't sweat it, John,” Phillips said quietly. “It's a shock. You'll get over it.”

“Get over it?” He sounded surprised. “I don't want to get over it. I don't want to change anything. I just want to be a good father – and I don't know how.”

Ardman clicked off the MP3 player. He looked up at Rich, but he seemed to be looking past Rich, at someone standing with them at the table.

Rich turned to look and saw that Jade was there, the phone still pressed to her ear. Slowly, she lowered it and ended the call.

“We never realised,” she said. Her voice sounded strange, like it was being filtered through something that broke it up and then put it back together again slightly wrong. “He never said…”

Ardman picked up the phone from the table and handed it to Rich. “Adults often can't say what they mean or how they feel,” he said quietly. “Which is really quite childish of us, don't you think?”

“You'll find him, won't you?” Rich said. “You'll get him back.”

Ardman sighed. “Unfortunately, for all the reasons we spoke of earlier, my hands are rather tied. Yes, I'll do what I can. But I'm afraid it won't be much.”

“But – this is our
dad
we're talking about,” Jade insisted. “You have to help us.”

“I can't be seen to act against Vishinsky. I told you that. I told you why. But I'll do everything I can. I promise.”

“So Chance does care,” Magda said. She smiled at Mr Stabb. “Vishinsky will be so pleased to hear that. We can put pressure on Chance by threatening the children.”

“Only if we have them to threaten. Let's hope our luck holds. It was only by luck that you overheard the MI5 men at the internet café mention the Clarendorf Hotel as a backup plan.”

Ardman's voice was still coming through the tiny speaker on the table, but they paid it little attention now. The microphone had a built-in digital recorder that could later provide them with any information they missed.

“You said we needed them both.” Magda pointed
at the three people round the table in the bar below – Ardman, Rich and Jade. “There you are.”

“Given what we've just learned, what we've heard, we may only need one of them.” Stabb pulled a gun from inside his jacket. “But let's not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Magda took a small pistol from her handbag – the same one she had used to shoot the policeman. There was no need for the silencer this time; it was cumbersome and it slowed the bullet, making the weapon less effective.

“Let's do it,” she said.

“Like I told you,” Ardman said, “I can't get directly involved. Not until I have some proof about what Vishinsky is up to. My department does not officially exist and what we do is never acknowledged, but there are plenty of people who do know about us and would dearly love an excuse to shut us down. One wrong move and I'll never be in a position to help anyone again, including your father.”

“So what can you do?” Jade demanded.

“I can put you in touch with someone who can help you.” Ardman took a card from his jacket
pocket and a fountain pen. He wrote on the back of the small card. “Dex Halford is an old colleague and friend of your father's. They were in the SAS together.”

“The SAS?” Rich whistled, impressed. “He never mentioned that.”

“They never do.” Ardman handed the card to Jade. “That's his address. Go and see him. He worked with your dad recently on something for me, something connected to the current situation. He may know things that can help. If nothing else, he's a good man to have with you in a crisis, even if…” He broke off.

“Even if what?” Rich wondered.

But Ardman was looking past them, towards the main door from the foyer. “Down!” he yelled and launched himself at Jade and Rich.

Ardman's arms wrapped round Jade and dragged her into the chair where Rich was sitting – a high-backed, solid leather chair. She gave a yelp of surprise and pain. But it was drowned out by the sounds of the bullets that ripped up the carpet close to where she had been standing, and thudded into Ardman's chair, knocking it over.

The barman had disappeared down behind the bar. Ardman struggled to pull something from his pocket. A pistol. He leaned out round the back of the chair for just long enough to fire two shots in rapid succession.