He was about half a mile away from Waterloo station which meant a fifteen-minute walk across the Thames via Golden Jubilee Bridge or five minutes on the Northern Line, which ran to Waterloo every three minutes. But if he went there directly his tail might guess his destination and it would be difficult to shake him off. There was the chance he could lose him in the crowd on foot. It depended on how good the man was. Marvik thought he’d see.
As he left the bank he caught a glimpse of him standing at the bus stop. Marvik set off at a rapid pace. He turned right at Villiers Street, hurrying down it, weaving his way among the crowds, and then another right towards Golden Jubilee Bridge. He didn’t look back but knew he was still being followed.
He ran up the steps and broke into a jog until he was about halfway across where he stopped suddenly, and, imitating Brampton, reached for his phone. He spun round and began talking into his phone while looking down the river towards Whitehall, Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster. His tail had no option but to either turn back or continue. He continued, averting his gaze to the other side of the river but Marvik would recognize him again. He could have been the man who had been on the motorbike outside Ben’s bedsit – the build was right.
Marvik cut short his imaginary conversation as the man disappeared from view down the steps. Marvik turned and ran along the bridge in the direction he’d come. Tearing down the steps, he darted into the Embankment underground station. By now his tail would know he’d been tricked and be rushing back. But maybe he didn’t need to because all he had to do was relay to his control what had happened and someone else would pick up the job – someone who was close by or who had also been following him, because there could have been two of them, maybe more, just as there had been when they’d come for them in Strathen’s apartment.
He spotted the second man as he was making a pretence of studying the underground map. He was younger and leaner, dressed scruffily and sporting the same headgear: wires, earphones and a phone to make it look as though he was listening to music.
Marvik swiped his card on the ticket machine and made for the Bakerloo line and the platform that would take him to Charing Cross. He let the swarms of travellers push and bustle around him. From the corner of his eye he saw the man loiter in the entrance to the platform. Marvik caught the sound of an approaching train and the soft whoosh of hot air that pre-heralded its arrival. He moved towards the platform, took out his phone and made as though to consult it, looking around and behind him as though puzzled. He let the commuters jostle him, blocking him from sight.
The train rushed in and slid to a halt. He climbed on. The man tailing him did the same. Marvik stood by the doors. His pursuer took up position along the carriage to the right of him. He was fairish, unshaven, late thirties, with a lean face and a blank, vacant expression as though engrossed in his music or audio book. It was going to be a close-run thing and even then he didn’t know how successful he’d be. He prepared for action. Timing was everything.
The train pulled away. Within seconds it seemed they were approaching Elephant and Castle, where Marvik knew he could get a train to take him to Waterloo. The train slid into the station. A few people alighted. Marvik had seconds before the doors shut. His eyes were peeled on the woman on the platform with her high-visibility customer service jacket and the paddle-shaped board in her hand that signalled all was clear for the doors to close. There was also that flashing of lights around the door switch that heralded they were about to close and a fraction of a second before they did. Marvik had a split second for action and he took it. He was off the train; the doors hissed closed behind him within a hair’s breath. The train moved away, carrying the man who had been tailing him.
Marvik hurried out with a grim smile. He was counting on the fact they wouldn’t think he was heading for Waterloo station. He wished now he’d told Bryony to wait anywhere but on the station platform but it was too late for that. The train to Waterloo pulled in and he climbed on board. A few minutes later he was running up the escalator into the vast chasm of Waterloo station and crossing the heaving concourse, his eyes skimming the crowds for signs of either of the men who had tailed him or for someone who had taken over. He couldn’t see anyone but someone might have been detailed to watch this end; they might have followed Bryony, in which case his tactics had been a waste of time. He’d soon find out.
She was where he’d told her to be, looking anxiously around her, shifting impatiently from foot to foot and glancing at her phone. She was wearing a three-quarter-length grey coat still with the same black dress underneath, so a friend hadn’t lent her a change of clothes but she’d got the coat from somewhere. As Marvik headed towards her he scanned those who were eyeing the departure boards while he also registered the time of the train he needed.
‘At last,’ she cried, relief flooding her face and anxiety in her tired eyes. ‘I thought you’d never come.’ The strain of the last two days was etched on her forehead and around her mouth. She’d managed to find some make-up and had applied lipstick, blusher and mascara. Her blonde hair was once again straight and clean. She’d probably freshened up in the hospital while with Ben but he wondered where she had stayed last night. Perhaps with a friend who had loaned her the use of make-up and a coat but not a clean dress. She looked exhausted.
He grabbed her arm and swung her round. ‘Walk. Don’t say anything.’ The Southampton train was leaving in ten minutes, which gave him time to buy their tickets from the machine. They couldn’t get through the barriers without them. That accomplished, he steered her towards the platform at such a pace that it forced her to run beside him. The guard looked as though he was about to whistle the train’s departure. Marvik almost threw her on the first carriage and as he did the doors slid shut, the whistle blew and the train moved off. No one else jumped on immediately before or after them.
The train wasn’t busy, it being the middle of the day, but rather than take the first available seats Marvik indicated for her to walk on. In the narrow space between the third and fourth carriages, he stopped. They were alone.
‘Why did you leave the hospital?’
‘Why shouldn’t I? I wasn’t compelled to stay there.’ She flushed slightly, looked away then back at him with a mixture of defiance and sheepishness. ‘I wanted to see if I could salvage my career. I missed the recall for that part and I contacted my agent and told her about the house fire and Ben being ill and asked if she could get me another slot. She said she couldn’t. It’s been cast. It’s OK, I didn’t mention you. But she told me the police had been in touch trying to contact me. They got her details from my website. I said I’d contact them but I haven’t yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t know what the hell to tell them.’ She rounded on him. ‘I don’t want them messing about in my life and Ben’s. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s happened and being on a boat immediately after my house was torched and Ben being a heroin addict is probably enough to make the police think I’m a drug dealer or something equally ludicrous. The press only have to get a sniff of that and it could be my career ruined for ever.’
‘I thought there was no such thing as bad publicity,’ he muttered.
‘Don’t you believe it! You got me into this – you have to get me out. I’m not going to the police unless you and your friend come with me.’ She looked away and then back up at him. ‘And you won’t do that, will you?’ she added, resigned.
‘Not until I know who killed Sarah and why.’ He was glad she’d avoided the police. She had a point too. The police might think he and Shaun were drug dealers. Perhaps it had been the drug squad after all who had come in the very early hours of the morning to Strathen’s apartment. And the police would certainly be inclined to believe he was a killer. Crowder could get him out of that but it would mean he’d failed and Marvik wasn’t going to countenance that. Strathen wouldn’t either. Marvik knew that the police would catch up with Bryony eventually unless she could lie low for a while until this was over. Marvik didn’t know how long for, though. She’d have to stay with Strathen. They had to complete this mission – and soon.
‘Where did you get the coat?’ he asked.
‘From a friend. I stayed with her last night.’ She undid it to reveal the black dress. He could still smell the smoke on it.
‘What made you go to Ben’s bedsit?’
‘I thought I’d stay there until things could be sorted out but when I saw what someone had done I got scared.’ She looked dejected and tired. She’d had a tough time. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Southampton, to a boat in the marina there.’
‘The same one that Ben got sick on?’
‘No. We’ll stop off in the town and you can buy what you need. You’ll be safe with us.’
‘You and your Marine friend?’
‘Yes. Let’s find a seat.’
No one had gone past them into the adjoining carriage, and glancing behind he couldn’t see anyone loitering or taking an interest in them. They walked through the train until they came to two vacant seats in the first carriage. Marvik still couldn’t see anyone following or watching them. Bryony took the window seat. She remained silent, preoccupied, staring out of the window. He didn’t intrude on her thoughts. He rang Strathen and told him he had a guest and that they’d meet him at Southampton in the marina.
As the train sped south, his mind flicked back to the notebooks in his safe deposit box and the one he’d placed there. Did any of the other notebooks contain a computer disk? he wondered. How had Sarah come by it? Could it have been overlooked by the solicitor, Michael Colmead, when Marvik had given him instructions to make sure all his parents’ papers were collected and despatched to the bank? Had someone taken it from their boat or the house? But why should they? And that didn’t explain why or how it had come to be in Sarah’s possession.
Then there was the name ‘Vasa’ which his father had inscribed on the disk. It was the Swedish version of Vaasa, a city on the west coast of Finland, his mother’s native country but he didn’t think his mother had originated from that city. Time to consider that later, if he chose to. He closed his eyes and let his mind go blank, yet he didn’t sleep.
The train slid into Southampton Central just before two thirty. No one alighted who looked as though they were following them and as they crossed the road towards the shopping centre, Marvik checked again. They were OK.
He gave Sarah enough cash to buy what she needed from one of the chain stores, adding that it was there or nowhere. They didn’t have time for shopping or for her to try on the clothes – she’d have to take a chance they would fit. While she purchased what she needed he headed for the food hall to stock up. He then bought some toiletries and towels. It meant losing sight of Bryony and he was relieved when he saw her at the checkout. As they walked towards the marina she told him she’d bought some make-up, two T-shirts, a jumper, a pack of black tights, underwear and a knee-length skirt.
‘I’ll pay you back out of the insurance money,’ she added. ‘My landlord must have been insured.’
Marvik didn’t like to tell her that he wouldn’t have been insured for her personal effects and clearly she’d had no insurance herself. ‘Has he been trying to get hold of you?’ He must have been told by now.
‘No, but then that’s hardly surprising as he’s up the Congo or somewhere equally obscure and remote. He’s a documentary film-maker. He has the same agent as me. We met at a drinks do. The house belonged to his father and he inherited it.’
They turned into the marina.
She nodded a greeting at Strathen who was in the main cabin, his laptop computer in front of him, the lid down. ‘Take the aft cabin,’ he instructed.
‘Can I ring the hospital?’
Marvik answered, ‘Not from here and not on your mobile. You can call them from the marina office later.’
‘OK.’ She went below and Marvik, stepping into the cockpit with Strathen so as not to be overheard, quickly brought him up to speed with what Bryony had told him. The wind was rising.
‘I’ve got some interesting information,’ Strathen said.
‘Better save it for later,’ Marvik hastily said as Bryony appeared.
‘I’d like a shower.’
Marvik thought he could do with one too. There were two showers on board but Marvik said he’d walk with her to the marina showers. He waited outside while she entered. Strathen joined him a few minutes later. There was no one watching them.
Strathen relayed what he’d discovered. ‘I’ve been doing some further research. While we could be right about rare fossils from Malaysia being in that package that Gurney got hold of, it might have contained something else just as valuable. Amber.’
‘And Freynsham would have recognized that too.’
‘Yes.’
But something else nudged in the back of Marvik’s mind. ‘Brampton’s ring and tie pin were both made of amber. OK, so maybe it doesn’t mean much,’ he quickly added.
‘But on the other hand it might.’ Strathen continued, ‘The Merit Pila lignite field in central Sarawak is the most important coal deposit of Malaysia. Much of it is close to the surface and can be mined by opencast but it also contains frequent long, thin seams of amber. The largest pieces of amber have been found there and if that was what was in the package then it would have fetched a fair sum of money if sold in 1959 or 1979.’
‘And if there was lots more of it in that cargo then someone was making sure that it was taken out of the country before full independence came into being in 1960. Someone with access to sources at the highest level in government, or who was high up in the government at the time, who could utilize the navy to bring it back to Britain.’
‘Yes, and the fact that Gurney and Pulford were so speedily eliminated means that this person must also have been in Singapore at the time, possibly overseeing the loading of the cargo on to that navy ship.’
Marvik rapidly considered this. ‘He knew exactly what was in those crates and what was missing, which means he must have checked them either before they were loaded or while they were on board. I need to talk to Ralph Warnford again.’
‘Want to head back to Poole marina?’
‘Yes.’
‘And Bryony?’
‘Comes with us unless she changes her mind and decides to stay here or head back to Chichester, but I don’t think she will. We’ll tell her as little as possible, and not necessarily the truth. The less she knows the better.’
Strathen agreed. He took Bryony to the marina office to call the hospital while Marvik quickly showered. He joined them as they were heading back to the boat.
‘Ben’s recovering but the hospital said they need to discuss his future treatment with me,’ Bryony relayed. ‘I expect they want shot of him because they need the beds but being a heroin addict they can’t just throw him out on the streets and he can’t go back to the bedsit, not only because it’s a wreck but because of what you said about Sarah’s killer coming after him and me. I fobbed them off for now, saying I couldn’t get there but I’ll call them tomorrow.’
She climbed on board with Strathen but Marvik didn’t follow; instead he went to the aft and made to cast off.
‘We’re leaving?’ she asked, surprised.
Strathen answered, ‘Yes. There’s no point in staying here.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Poole.’
‘What’s there?’
Marvik replied, ‘Possibly the answers to who killed Sarah and why.’