‘I’ve missed you,’ Simone said simply.
‘Hey,’ I said.
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m good. It’s been a busy day.’ An understatement. I’d returned the van and slipped the gun parts into the lake at Pittville Park, disturbing a family of water rats.
‘Want to hook up?’
‘Not tonight.’
She dropped her voice to a sexy growl. ‘You don’t want to chill?’
Sex with Simone was never a matter of relaxation, more like armed conflict. Was I tempted? Yes. Did I give in? No.
I muttered an apology, regret in my voice.
‘Work?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘A pity.’ She paused. I could almost hear her thinking out her next move. ‘There’s another party.’
‘Here?’
‘London.’
‘When?’
‘Two days’ time.’
‘Am I invited?’
‘That depends.’
‘Simone, I’m sorry. I really can’t make it tonight.
‘I know,’ she said simply. ‘It’s okay. I will call you. Promise.’
And that was that. Ten seconds later, my phone rang. An unknown number. I picked up. ‘Yeah?’
‘It’s …’
‘Who?’ His voice was so low I had to strain to hear.
‘Darren.’
‘You’ve got information?’
‘There’s a guy who has a real hard-on for you.’
‘Go on.’
‘A Russian.’
I choked off a curse. Russians, by and large, had been the bane of my life. Fantastic drinking partners, funny and entertaining, the particular breed with which I’d had dealings made Mafiosi look like pussies. ‘Be more specific?’
‘His name is Konstantin. Used to work with a guy called Yuri, his cousin or something, for another big Russian.’
They were all called Yuri, but I didn’t trouble to say this. Events of twelve months previously flashed through my brain in Blu-ray. One such Yuri had worked for a Russian who occasionally engaged my services.
I had a bad feeling that I knew exactly where this was going and I didn’t like the destination.
‘His boss disappeared,’ Darren said.
I remembered and it wasn’t me playing magicians. Yuri had wiped out his own Russian paymaster to get into bed with an American who’d been in partnership with Billy Squeeze.
‘Then Yuri was murdered,’ Darren continued.
This I knew. Having done the dirty on his boss, Yuri decided to attempt to pull the same stunt on me. Inevitably, Yuri lost. If a man tries to kill me they don’t get a second crack at it.
‘So Konstantin joined China Hayes’s outfit,’ Darren said.
The guy lying at the bottom of the quarry, I realised, which was good in one way and not so great in another. I didn’t doubt that the Russian hood was in the UK illegally, probably had false papers and, consequently, would be difficult to identify. It would possibly get me off the hook. However the connection to current events was tenuous to the point of insignificance. It was not going to lead me to whoever had set a programme of revenge in play. Essentially, I’d travelled down a one-way street.
‘You need to watch your back,’ Darren said.
I told him that he’d done well. ‘Anything else?’
‘You’ll see me all right?’
It wasn’t quite the answer I was expecting, but I assured him that I’d keep my side of the bargain, pay Barry a visit and see he was suitably rewarded, and Darren hung up.
I pulled out my laptop and fired it up. After a rapid sequence of data processing I checked a bank account I hadn’t used in over a year. Sure enough, China Hayes had deposited the correct initial payment for the ‘Simone’ job not long after I’d been coerced into taking it on. Perhaps this was designed to lull me into a false sense of security. I logged out, closed my eyes, rubbing the lids with the tips of my index fingers, my entire focus on McCallen and the absence of a body or a ransom demand. I ran through our most recent conversations, hoping something would emerge, strike a note, or break. Zero. I had nothing to give Titus the following morning – not a lead, not a whisper, not even a rumour. I wasn’t sure how he’d react. What worried me more was McCallen’s continued silence. In blind desperation, I punched in her number again, knowing that her phone was dead, switched off, and that my call wouldn’t even connect.
But it did.
It rang several times and then went to voicemail. In a low and mellow tone, she asked the caller to leave a message. I blinked, killed the call. McCallen was perfectly capable of winding people up and letting them loose to see where they led. Manipulation was in her DNA. So while I was running around trying to find her, was she alive, in rude health, and playing her damn silly games? I sat back and thought about it and realised that it didn’t tally. McCallen would never fake her own disappearance and set her colleagues on a fruitless mission to find her. There would be too much explaining to do and it would screw her career. Only one possibility sprang to mind.
Someone had the phone she used for me. Someone had switched it off and switched it back on. I refused to think about McCallen as anything other than alive. If she was still being held, it was only a matter of time before negotiations for her release began. Hope, a bright burning light, flared briefly inside me. This was progress at last and it provided me with something to hand to Titus the next day.