CHAPTER TWO

Maria drove down Fleet Street and onto Ludgate Hill. The area was quiet, even for a Sunday. She quickly parked in her office space and walked briskly through Cheapside and to the Bank of England.

She was a trim figure in a body hugging miniskirt and a maxi coat. The coat was useful for it concealed her gun well. At the moment, though, she was leaving that well alone. All she gripped was a long stiletto. It was a sharp piece of strong, slim steel, silent, quick and lethal in the right hands.

She noticed him immediately. He was a big man with carrot-red hair. He was dressed in a long winter coat, his hands thrust in the pockets. He stooped slightly. And then he decided to sit down on the steps of the Royal Exchange. Once it had been an impressive building and one of the commercial hearts of the area. These days its cavernous rooms were full of boutiques and bars, although these were closed on Sunday. It looked dead that gloomy and cold spring day. And Jefferson wasn’t going to improve on the sombre and funereal tone of this despondent symbol of past glories.

He looked at his watch and turned towards the Bank of England. He frowned, not out of concern, but perhaps more out of annoyance that his contacts had not kept to time. He didn’t notice Maria as she eased herself behind him, swooping down and driving the knife into his heart in one quick movement. She did not need to check. She was already moving away as his head fell forward towards his lap. He remained there, hunched and immobile. He looked strange, but not strange enough. The few people around took no notice. Maria merely left and walked calmly towards the bank.

Meanwhile, Jacqui had been going through the personnel files on Wendy. She established she was really named Wendy Dale. She had been with her boss for twelve years, was thirty-four and unmarried. She had an address in Kilburn, though she most likely pretended it was in the adjacent and more fashionable Swiss Cottage.

“What do we do about her?” asked Jacqui.

“She has to go. Let’s wait for Maria and then we’ll decide how we go about it.”

Jacqui nodded and noted the address. The file was returned, after she had wiped it clean of any fingerprints.

They went back to the boardroom. The two detectives were waiting nervously. The guard watched them casually yet carefully. He knew his job.

The one who had been hit by Jacqui whined, “Can we go? We’ll keep quiet. We can’t afford any trouble.”

Charles ignored them, thought for a moment, then turned and left the room. Jacqui followed.

“Has your father got a hit squad in London? We need to get rid of those two but I don’t want their bodies to be found. It would be too dangerous.”

“He’d contract out in a place like this. He found the Brits too amateurish. He rated some individuals. But he didn’t feel this was a place for a real operation.”

“How do I find a disposal team for the two in there?”

“Why don’t we just dump them somewhere and organise a hit before they get far?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, “We could use the two security guards if needed. Look, we steal a car for you. In this area that’s quite easy. You and Maria take it. You change in to the usual garb, dark clothes and a cap. That gives you anonymity.

“We can load the detectives into the car we steal in our car park. Put them in the trunk and let’s make sure there are traces of coke there so that it will stick to their clothes. There’s some in the office. Stephens uses it.

“Get the guards to steal another car well away from here. Make a rendezvous with it. Drop the detectives off in a quiet area where nobody can see you getting them out of the car. You get away and then the others gun them down. As people appear, the guards move off and dump their car as soon as they can. They’ll do that. It’s a simple hit. They are quite good. And we’ll give them a bonus.”

“OK, and, if people are there, they will witness a gangland killing. The traces of drugs will reinforce that view. The men will have been working according to their families, but their company will deny that. It will make it look all the more suspicious and play into our hands. The men will have been seen alive miles from here and so nobody will be looking here. We can dump our stolen car well away from the murder scene and so it is unlikely to be associated with the attack. That’s a good idea.”

Jacqui thought, “There is a risk that Wendy Dale hears of the killings on the news. But, if we make sure the detectives have no papers, it will take time to identify them. The other risk is that Jefferson’s body is found and the police issue a press release. But I doubt it. We haven’t got many options anyway.”

“I’ll go and see the guard downstairs and set his part up. But how do we steal the cars?”

“That’s easy. We’ll lift one from the car park opposite. The guards can take theirs once they are ready and they should do it away from here. It’s better to limit the time we have any of the cars and we don’t want them to be associated.”

Charles went downstairs to the guard and explained the plan, “I want you to think where we can meet up. And put your mate into the picture. We have a sub machine gun in the cache in the office. I’ll get it for you nearer the time. Oh and there’ll be ten grand each for you for the job.”

The guard treated these unusual instructions as if they were absolutely normal. Charles sometimes thought that the heavies that Di Maglio had given him were far better than your run of the mill thug.

Charles glanced at the monitor and saw Maria approach. She strode up the steps, her eyes sparkling. He recognised that look. He had seen it when she killed before. It was a mixture of lust and satisfaction. She had explained it to him once. She said that, after a kill, one had an empty feeling and needed to make love to get over it. The last time one of them had killed, they had had sex, and the time before. Charles didn’t expect to be in a supporting role this time with Jacqui around.

“Come upstairs,” Charles told Maria. “We need to talk.”

He turned to the guard, “When are you relieved?”

“Five. They usually arrive about a quarter of an hour before.”

“Good. We plan to leave at half four. Think when and where you will meet us.”

Maria and Charles walked to the lift. He brought her up to date. She looked at him quizzically. “It’s lucky that you and Jacqui stayed behind to finish off some work. I thought you would have headed back home.”

It was clear that she realised that he had not told the whole truth. He could see her mind buzzing and ignored it.

Jacqui, Maria and Charles sat together in the office. They ran through their plans. Maria agreed with them, “We have to clean up properly. If you clubbed the detective, was there any blood on the carpet or furniture? Has anyone checked?”

Jacqui nodded, “The guard cleaned up and has tidied up the detective’s face. It isn’t bleeding any more. There was some blood on the furniture but he cleaned that up. It should be OK.”

Maria looked at her watch. “It’s half one. Jacqui needs to get the car at about four. Then she drives it here and we put it in the car park. We stuff the two detectives in the boot. The car will have to be big enough to take them.”

Jacqui agreed, “Assuming the guards leave by five, they should be on the road by half five. You should rendezvous around six. There won’t be much traffic at this time of day. I wonder if they have worked out where you can meet.”

Charles phoned down to the ground floor and asked the guard if he had any ideas. “I think the best place is Notting Hill. We can easily dump our car in the Paddington area and there are some good derelict places for the hit near by. With a bit of luck, if we leave the keys in their ignition, the cars will be stolen again and maybe even torched.”

“I agree. We meet at Notting Hill. I will park by the junction of the Bayswater Road and Camden Hill. Then you lead me to one of the back streets to the north of the Road and I’ll let the detectives out. You hit them once I have gone and as they walk away. The betting is that they’ll head towards the underground either at Holland Park or Notting Hill, whichever is nearer.

You dump the car in Paddington and we’ll do it well to the south. That way the chances of the two stolen cars being associated remains remote. We’ll have stolen them from different places and will dump them in different areas. The main risk is my car is seen when we dump the detectives but I’ll take care to be discreet. If necessary kill any bystander, after all it’s unlikely in that type of area that it will be anything but a tramp.

I want no mobiles used. If anything goes wrong, fire two quick bursts of the gun in the air, we’ll hear that. We shouldn’t be seen together. And, afterwards, Maria and I have some other chores to do.”

The guard once again agreed without question. He just said, “Don’t forget the gun and enough spare ammunition. I assume it can’t be traced. I plan to jettison it once the kill is done. I’d rather not carry it with me.”

“Of course, it can’t be traced. It’s from Di Maglio,” Charles snapped. “I’m not an amateur, you know.”

He turned to Maria once he had put down the phone, “I need you to help me in Kilburn. There is always a possibility that Wendy Dale is out or with someone. We may have to waste two people. Or we may have to wait for her. And we need to be careful in case she hears something about Jefferson. It could be on the radio. We need to ensure that we are on alert at all times for all eventualities.”

Jacqui agreed, “I’ll head home after I have left the car. I’ll wait for you there. I hate that part of it. I know you can’t take any risk and call me to say how it’s going. They’ll scan the records for suspicious calls in the vicinities of the kills. They always do that. But I do hate the idea of total silence.”

Maria made as if to protest. Jacqui shook her head, “Don’t worry. I know the rules. And I know that they are important.”

“Let me calm down our visitors. I’ll tell them that we are going to negotiate with Jefferson, and that we will let them go, once his masters have agreed to lay off us. I’ll put on the TV. They can watch the football or something.”

Charles did that and the poor fools swallowed the story he spun them. They had no idea that they were in deep trouble and not going to see the next day. When he got back, he saw Maria had made coffee and brought some biscuits. He went over to Jacqui and kissed her on the back of her neck, “Shall we finish what we started?” he whispered.

“And what will you tell Maria?” she queried. “We can hardly ask her to wait in her office.”

“Why can’t we? I am sure she would.”

“Look, there is only one thing that you can be sure of. She’s not going to be jealous, but she may be upset. And you and she need to work as a team.”

“Why wouldn’t she be jealous?”

“God, men,” replied Jacqui. “You’ve worked with her for two years and haven’t realised. She’s gay. She’s a lesbian. She’s lived with her pal, Claire, for the past seven years. You know the pretty blonde, who was on the boat with us in Barbados that Christmas after I was kidnapped by the Russian Mafia.”

Charles looked astonished. They’d never discussed this before. He now realised why Jacqui was indifferent to him spending time with Maria. She suspected she was a lesbian. She thought she and Claire were lovers, although Claire was around less now she worked in New York. Charles also knew that Maria may have been gay but could be as heterosexual as the next girl could. They had slept together on several occasions, especially when Jacqui left for one of her trips to New York. But he obviously said nothing.

“Don’t look so amazed,” laughed Jacqui. “Do you think I’d leave you alone with her if that wasn’t the case? I’m not stupid you know. And I’m very possessive.”

At that moment, Maria came in and so the conversation stopped. She started busying herself. She, like Charles, had now changed into a black sweater and slacks. They checked with the guards, who had both changed into dark casual clothes. That was all they needed. They would wear baseball caps as well to make it difficult for people to identify the colour of their hair and their exact features.

“I’ll drop my car back home,” said Maria. “I’ll be back in good time. I don’t want anyone to know that I have been back here. It’s better that everything looks as normal as possible.”

Once she had left, Charles turned to Jacqui enquiringly, “No fear, this place is too busy. It’s no longer out of bounds. Much as I’d love to, we’d better wait for another occasion. Besides, you need to psyche yourself up for the next steps. They’re not going to be easy.”

He must have looked disgruntled because she laughed and said, “I promise we’ll come back and make love on the board table. I’ll even wear a bowler hat if you want.”

He smiled, “The question is where?” So they waited. Then just before four, Jacqui walked out and over to the car park. It took her a few minutes. She returned with a fairly standard saloon. She had taken one that was an innocuous blue. It was good. The boot would be large enough for their guests and the car was standard enough to avoid attention. Jacqui knew, instinctively, how to act in situations like this.

Nevertheless, Charles still asked her if she had avoided the security cameras. She nodded. Like the others, she had put on dark clothes. “I kept my back to the cameras and wore the cap, so they can’t tell the colour of my hair. They won’t be able to trace me. I found a cigarette in the street and left it near one of the cameras. That will put their forensics on a wild goose chase, if they notice the clue.”

Jacqui then left. Maria and Charles headed upstairs to the detectives. “We are going to put you in the boot and drive you to the other side of London. Before we release you, we take delivery of some papers from Jefferson. We’ll drop you in Notting Hill. You can say you were mugged, that’ll explain the bruises on your face. Do you agree?”

They nodded eagerly. They were pretty dim, anyone could see the bruises were at least a few hours old. The story that had been suggested did not stack up. Or perhaps they kept quiet in the hope that Charles was stupid. “Why are you going to put us in the boot?” asked the tall one.

“We don’t want anyone to see you. And make no noise or the deal is off and you’ll regret it,” said Maria. They agreed immediately and were taken downstairs.

The guard came and went over the instructions again. He reported to Charles, “We’ve erased all the videos in the security cameras and reset the system. It will look as if there was a failure. We’ll restart it once you leave. That way it will only be discovered if anybody looks at the film for Sunday. They won’t be able to establish why, but the system was off from midnight through to half four or so this afternoon.”

“Well done, I’d overlooked that. I thought the tapes were just re-used.”

“No. They are stored for a month and then re-used,” he answered. “So if nobody is suspicious at the end of the day and they remain unchallenged for a month, then there will be no trace of what we have done. The only thing that we can’t alter is the time clock.”

“What about the boardroom?”

“It’s clean as a whistle. Not even forensics could find anything there. There are a couple of scratches on the boardroom table though that we can’t remove. You must have pushed your guns or something across the table.”

Charles ignored that. There was no security camera in the boardroom and so they would never know what caused the scratches. He suspected it could have been the belt on Jacqui’s skirt. She had, after all, propelled herself from one end of the table almost to the other.

Charles and Maria drove off and swung away from the bank towards the West End. The roads were quiet that Sunday evening and they reached Notting Hill in just over half an hour. They found a space at the bottom of Camden Hill and pulled in there. There was a muffled moan from the boot.

Maria got into the back seat and whispered to the detectives, “We are waiting for Jefferson. The meet is round the corner. As long as he does what he promised, we’ll head over to Notting Hill then and find a quiet place to let you go. It shouldn’t be long now.”

She pretended to get out of the car. In reality, she closed the rear door and climbed back over to the front seat. They waited for the guards to appear. The guards reached the meeting point about twenty minutes later and headed slowly in front. Maria opened and slammed her car door and called to the men in the boot. “It’s done. We now need to find a place to let you out without being noticed.”

Charles followed the guard’s car. It headed north and soon was in some pretty gloomy territory around Paddington Station. He did not know the area at all but it was well sign-posted to the West End and so he was relaxed they would have no difficulty finding their way back.

They drove up a small side street, full of empty, boarded up houses. It was waiting for the demolition men, an excellent place to dump the detectives in the back. Charles pulled his cap down further over his face and went to the boot.

“Out,” he ordered. They obeyed promptly. They stood there stretching themselves and blinking nervously, “Now keep out of my life,” he snarled, handing them a bag. “These are your wallets and things. Now go.”

They did not look at the bag, which also contained a small packet of cocaine. There was not much there but enough to further raise the suspicions of the police. With the residue on their clothes, they would be labelled drug pushers.

Charles got back in the car and drove down the street. The detectives were walking quickly in the opposite direction. As he got to the corner, the guards’ car pulled away from the kerb, driving back down towards the men.

Although they had turned into the next road, they heard the rattle of the machine gun as it mowed down the unfortunate detectives. Then there was silence. They did not say a word but drove on. They reached the park, it was late enough for there to be spaces there. They had no need to wipe down the car for they had worn gloves all the time, and they left it open with the key in the ignition. With a bit of luck it would be stolen again well before the police noticed it.

They went down the tube at Queensway, then they caught the train towards Kilburn, walking arm in arm for the last mile, so they would not appear on the station monitors. They looked like any other couple going for an early evening stroll. This was the last stage of the clean up. The fourth victim was hopefully the last.

Wendy Dale lived in a gloomy terraced house. Breaking in took a minute. Standard locks protected it and Maria took moments to pick them. There wasn’t even a troublesome alarm for them to worry about. They had established she wasn’t at home, they now had to wait.

In the kitchen was a calendar. Her social diary was hardly exciting if that was anything to go by. Her weekend appeared to have been spent in Oxford with a girl friend. She was a methodical woman. They established she would be on the seven thirty-train back. That meant they could expect her by nine unless she took a cab rather than the underground.

Maria and Charles went through the house. Upstairs there were three pocket-sized bedrooms. One was used as a workroom and study. They went through the papers. They could find nothing from Associated. Their name was also on none of the files.

The place was clean. She did not appear to be using it to store any material from the office. Charles turned to Maria, “Should we set the place alight once we have killed her?”

“There’s nothing we need to destroy here. I’d prefer it to look like a break-in. We could take this jewel case, and she’s bound to have some money on her when she returns. Otherwise, I can’t see anything we would want to steal. Anyway, if we leave her here, she may lie there for a few days. That always helps in case someone thinks they saw something suspicious. The longer it takes to find her, the less reliable any witness will be.”

“I need to question her in any case. If she starts to yell or anything, kill her quickly. We don’t want the neighbours around.”

The clock chimed nine and they waited expectantly. A taxi drew up. A couple got out. “Shit,” muttered Maria. They went into the house next door. Charles and Maria breathed a sigh of relief.

Then they saw her. She must have caught the underground. She was walking up the street, carrying a small suitcase. She was on her own. She was medium height; slightly podgy with long tinted blond hair. With a bit of effort, she could have looked attractive. There was no elegance in the walk as she came to the house. It just mirrored the discomfort she felt as she wobbled on her too high heels in her too tight knee-length skirt.

She fumbled for the keys. Maria and Charles waited behind the lounge door. They wanted her away from the hallway. She was going to be shocked when she saw them waiting for her.

She closed the door and dropped the case in the hall. She went over to the phone and checked for messages. They listened carefully. The machine told her, “You have two messages.” They heard a button click and an excited woman’s voice called out. “There’s a lovely new play on at the theatre. It’s supposed to be great. Can we get together and see it. Please call, Wendy.” Then a button clicked again. “Wendy. This is Jefferson. I’ve sent the two detectives into IBE. They’ll get the tape. There was a meeting. They say that some big guns were there. We need to stop acting alone. I need to tell the boss what we’ve found. This could be big money for you. He’s sworn he wants to see that bastard, Rossi, in jail. Call me when you get back.”

Maria and Charles nodded as if on cue. “Hello Wendy,” Maria said. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do before we call the police.”

“Yes,” Charles added grimly. “And you can tell us who Jefferson is. And why his boss wants to put me inside.”

She was so astonished by their appearance that she didn’t say a word. Charles took her by the arm and eased her into the lounge. She walked like an automaton. She was in total shock.

She then said, “How did you get in here?”

Maria answered. “I can pick a lock. Yours were easy. It’s one of my skills. It allows me to disprove my reputation. You know the one that you credit me with in the office. See, I have other skills that don’t require me just to lie on my back.” That was delivered with a look of hatred.

This was getting them nowhere. Charles intervened, “Wendy, tell me what you have done. Tell me who this Jefferson is. And, if you co-operate, we will allow you to resign. That means you can get another job. If you don’t co-operate, I’ll fire you and hand you over to the police.”

At that she started to sob. She cried real tears that made her mascara run into a blotchy black smudge. She looked awful. Her face was colourless. Her eyes were red. She was a picture of desolation.

Maria interrupted her cries, “It’s too late to regret things now, you stupid fool. You’d do better to confess all to us. Who’s Jefferson? Is that his Christian name? Is he your lover?”

Wendy gasped at this assertion. The bitch must have been a virgin. Nobody else would have been that shocked. “He’s Mr Jefferson,” she said, stressing the ‘Mr’. He’s head of security at Associated.”

“What the hell are you playing around with him for? And why is that idiot Sir Piers, I suppose that’s his boss, after my blood?”

“Mr Jefferson is my cousin,” she said primly. “He said that you were crooked. I suspected you were too. I agreed to help him and told him of your meetings and things. There was nothing untoward until last week when I discovered you were having a secret meeting with your wife’s Mafia father in the bank. And it was on a Sunday.”

Charles feigned anger, “Why shouldn’t I meet him at the bank? Him and others. That was Rossi and Di Maglio business. IBE is an investment. The discussions were about other things. But, hell, I don’t need to explain to you. Who else are you feeding information to?”

“Nobody. The only person who knew what I was doing was Mr Jefferson. Actually, his name is Hector. But he likes to be called Jefferson. That’s his army experience. He’s one of the Arbroath Jeffersons, you know.”

This was said with some pride. Maria was having none of it. “Yeah, and Charles is one of the Corsican Rossis. My people are from the Bronx. Who gives anything? Have you been copying things at the office and selling them?”

“No,” she spat indignantly, “How dare you? I work by high standards. I have nothing from the office here and I wouldn’t take anything at all at any price. Don’t judge me by your standards.”

“Are you sure Jefferson hasn’t told others?” asked Charles.

“No, I swore him to silence. He is a man of honour. He was a Major in the army.”

“What were you going to get out of this? Were you trying to destroy the bank?”

Tears came to her eyes. Charles wondered what the bitch was going to come up with now. “I want it to be like the old days. Then I was proud to be in the bank. Now it has changed. A lot of the old people have gone. The board is different. And I know that one day you will get rid of my boss and the others from the old bank.”

“Did Dunkillin ask you to do this?”

Once again she turned to him, this time in fury, “His name is the Lord Dunkillin. Respect him and his title. He knows nothing of this. But I am doing it for him and for the others who will bring the old bank back to its days of glory and honour.”

“My God,” interjected Maria. “You do talk a load of crap.”

“Keep your American slang out of this conversation. I don’t know what your role is in the bank. And I don’t want to know.”

“OK Wendy, cool off,” replied Maria. “I’ll let you into a secret. I’m not like you, I’m no repressed virgin. I’ve screwed the boss, and on more than one occasion. And I guess we’ll do it again.”

The women were hissing at each other. Maria was in control. She was just working on Wendy’s distaste of her and everything she stood for to get her angry and to tell them all.

Charles intervened, “Hey, let’s not argue. We need to resolve this. Look, I’ll call the police. We better tell them also about Jefferson, the detectives and the others.”

Wendy fell straight into the trap. “There are no others. The detectives were only there to get the tape. I opened the side door on Friday and also doctored the tape. Jefferson showed me how. It was easy. The recorder was voiced activated and the tape could last for hours. There is nobody else. We didn’t even tell our families. The detectives didn’t know where they were going or what the details were until they met Jefferson at Waterloo Station. Nobody knew as Jefferson arranged for them to be paid cash once the job was completed. He trusted Sir Piers enough to know he would get his expenses back.”

“How were you going to go public? I heard what Jefferson said. Are you sure that you and Jefferson are the only ones who know?”

She nodded. Then she looked scared. It was something in Charles’ look. She glanced back at Maria, she had now moved behind her. The moment Charles said, “Kill her” and the woman’s mouth opened to scream, the knife plunged into her heart. It was a kitchen knife Maria had picked up on their tour of the house. She shoved the now lifeless body forward and it fell onto the carpet.

“Let’s move,” she said. “That was a dream.”

“Get rid of the telephone tape. Take it. I don’t want anyone to find out what Jefferson said.”

Maria took the tape, and opened a drawer beneath the phone. Another recording tape was there. She removed that and put it in place of the original. “Miss Perfect kept a spare one. I should think everything here is in duplicate.”

“Not the kitchen knives.”

“True, but it’s best to use something from the house in these cases. It makes it all look more like a robbery that went wrong.”

“That reminds me.” Charles opened the woman’s handbag and took out a purse. He emptied its contents into his pocket. He also took her credit cards. That would allow them to send the police up another blind alley. They would get rid of them later.

“Leave the cards,” said Maria. “They are not that easy to dispose of. We don’t want to take anything that can be traced easily. The jewellery can be dumped in the River Thames on our way back. Cards float. We better also get to my place and check out the police messages.”

Maria had a radio set up in her flat. They could monitor any action on the shooting in Paddington from there. They could also check if there was anything on Jefferson. Charles was fairly sure that the late Ms Dale would not be discovered for a couple of days yet.

There was rear door through the kitchen and they forced the lock with a gardening knife that was lying on the porch. It would now look like a break in. The wall around the garden was scaleable and, luckily for them, there was a small alleyway that skirted one side of it. That, they expected the police to assume, would be the way the intruder got into the house.

They left though the way they came. They walked down the street arm in arm. They stopped occasionally, away from any lights, for a brief kiss. Anybody would think they were just another couple making their way home from the pub or somewhere. They doubted if anyone was looking. Most of the curtains seemed drawn and many of the houses were in darkness. This was not a late night neighbourhood.

They walked on through Kilburn and into St John’s Wood. They caught a train through to Baker Street, only there did they get a cab, just to Cheyne Walk by the Thames. Maria lived up the road from there in a mansion flat. They sauntered over to the river and stopped to look to see if there were any video cameras trained on the area. There were none. There was nobody around. The cars could not see Maria’s hand as it slid behind Charles back and dropped the contents of the small jewellery case into the fast flowing water. That was followed by the case itself.

“You’re sure it will sink?”

“I’m sure. It’s heavy enough. I put some stones into the pockets. It’ll take a long time to surface, and, even if it does, it won’t be in one piece. The flap was open. It’ll rot before long.”

They walked on to the flat. They walked arm in arm, not so much as a disguise, but rather because they wanted to. Once again, Charles knew they would need to make love. Once again he felt the warmth from Maria’s body flow through to him as they brushed against each other. Charles remembered the interruption of the morning and that increased his desire all the more. He thought of the four people who’d had to die, how stupid they were to get in the way. If they had stuck to their own business, they could have continued living. But it had been a matter of them or him. And, therefore, there had been no choice.

He noticed Maria move closer to him as they kissed. He realised they were stopping more often now. His hands moved round her body to her small firm breasts. And he felt her dig her hands into his buttocks as she pulled him close to her.

She opened the door of her flat, and he started to kiss her passionately. “No,” she said. “First of all, we must complete the job.”

She went over to the radio. It was in a den that she had constructed. A den rather than a study. It was her workroom. She could pick up nothing about the murders. “The police could have come and gone. Jefferson was around midday. The two others were at around half five. It’s almost eleven now.”

“Check out the news channel then.”

They watched the news but there was little to note. There was a lot about politics and a bit about sport. Then the crime reporter came on.

“Police were called to Paddington today after two unidentified men were gunned down in a deserted street. They were walking towards London’s Bayswater, when a gunman opened fire with an automatic from a passing car. Both men were hit several times and were dead on arrival at a nearby hospital. Police say they have reason to believe that this was a drugs related gangland assassination.

There was a further killing earlier today in London’s worst ever day of violent crime. A security man from a City bank was knifed to death in front of the Royal Exchange. Police confirm that he was carrying a substantial sum of money. There are no known witnesses to the murder, but police are calling on anyone who was in the vicinity of the Royal Exchange around 12.30 or 12.45 this afternoon to come forward. The body was found shortly after the murder at 1.00 p.m. by a passer by.

A spokesman for the man’s employers said that they had no idea why he was in the City on a Sunday. They could give no clues as to why he was carrying such a large sum of money. They said he was a loyal employee of six year’s standing and an ex army officer.”

“Nothing else,” said Charles. That was good if they think Jefferson was killed around half twelve. You were there at twelve.”

Maria nodded. “There were no amateur photographers around and I kept clear of the security cameras. I know their ranges. So we should be safe there. But why were the other two described as unidentified?”

“The bag didn’t hold all the contents of their wallets. I kept it back.”

“Where is it?”

“Jacqui took it with her. She was going to drop the stuff off in a wastepaper bin, but well away from the City. She’ll drive somewhere out of our normal area for that. She said she’d put them in a bag first and make it look as if it were full of rubbish from a picnic. She’ll be careful.”

Maria nodded, “Is there anything else we need to do?”

Charles shook his head, “I think we have covered all trails. I’ll need to get back home. I’ll borrow your car. You can pick it up tomorrow. It’ll be at home. If you need a cover, you came over to our area and left it there. You do that from time to time, so nobody would be surprised.”

Maria smiled. “I usually only do that when I want to be naughty.”

The next thing he knew were her arms around him, as she propelled him towards her large double bed. They fell on it together. They knew what they wanted. Charles’ hand moved up under her dark sweater at the same time as her hands moved round from his hips. The room was lit by a pink glow from the light above the bed. They were both breathing fast, as if they had been running. It was a powerful need to have sex. It was not love. It was pure sex. They needed it after the tension of the afternoon. They needed it after the killings that he had ordered and she had carried out.

He kissed her, pushing his lips against her. They felt their teeth clash as he forced her mouth open with his tongue. They tasted each other. They felt each other’s tongues moisten their lips.

After that, they tore off their clothes and pushed together in a frenzy that could only come at times like that. Charles thought of the frustration of the morning interruption, the excitement of the afternoon, the memory of Maria’s body during the walk home. The result was not passion. It was not love. This, as it always was with Maria, was pure unadulterated sexual enjoyment.

She excited and was excited. Her sexuality was undoubted. She seemed to combine the best of both worlds in her bisexuality. Charles did not believe there were many like him. He was one of her rare men. The others were mainly by command when she needed to act the whore for her job. And that had never happened since she had started to work for Charles. It only arose when she was operating for Di Maglio.

Their urges had been satisfied. Their bodies had made their minds relax and forget. They lay together for some time before he gently moved away. “It’s time to go sweetheart. It’s back to reality.”

She kissed him. “Thanks. That was good. Good for me and for you too. Come back whenever. You’ll know when I need it as well.”

He went to the bathroom and soon was washed and dressed. He prepared to leave. Maria had put on a towelling robe and was watching the news. She stood up as he returned, “It’s the same story as before. I’ve rechecked the police radio bands and there is nothing on them. So it looks as if all has gone to plan. I’ll see you in the morning at the office.”

He took the keys and nodded. One short kiss. She still could sense him on her, and then he was gone.

Charles got home at just after one. Jacqui was awake. She got up and threw her arms around him. “Did it all go as planned? I heard about the Paddington shooting on the TV. They also covered the killing at the Royal Exchange.”

“We got Wendy Dale. She was working alone. She’s dead. Maria killed her with a kitchen knife. We made it look like breaking and entering. We dumped the cars. I left the one you stole near Hyde Park. With a bit of luck someone will take it for a joy ride and that will complicate things even more.

“But what did you do with the contents of the wallets?”

“I went for walk to St Katherine’s docks. I was all alone at one point and so I threw them into the water. They sunk to the bottom. I then picked up the car and came home. I played with little Juliet. We went briefly to the park and fed the ducks. She’s fast asleep now. Do you think we need to do anything tomorrow?”

“Yes. We need to start the ball rolling on the scam. I want to use our friend, Stephens, as quickly as possible. And then we need to dump him. He’s bad news. But he will be useful as a fall guy. Maria will be glad to deal with him. She resented his attack on her this morning. She really went for Wendy this evening, I didn’t know she knew she was telling everyone Maria was a little tart.”

Jacqui laughed, “That would not have gone down well with our Maria. She doesn’t like being treated like that, even as a joke.”

Charles was only half listening. He had stripped and fallen into bed. He was now exhausted. He pulled Jacqui towards him, but, before he could think of anything else, he was fast asleep. He was still holding her in his arms the next morning when the alarm woke them with its strident call.

“Tonight,” said Jacqui.

“Or perhaps in the boardroom, if it’s free,” he replied.

In a better mood than he expected, they cheerfully got dressed and headed to the office to meet the challenge ahead.