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PARIS
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JEAN-PAUL’S HAND SLIPPED inside his jacket when the living room light failed to come on. It wasn’t that he really thought there was trouble waiting for him in the darkness, but he had too many enemies to take chances. Before he could get his gun out, he felt something cold press against his temple and his heart leapt into his mouth. He calmed quickly as he realised that if the person who had been waiting wanted him dead, he already would be.
Luke Caldwell pulled Jean-Paul into the room, spun him around, and shoved him into a chair. He then quickly ran his free hand over him, discovering the knife and the gun Jean-Paul carried, both of which he tossed across the room so they were out of reach.
When he was certain Jean-Paul was no longer armed, Luke turned on the lamp on the small table at the side of the chair. The light was weak, only sufficient to illuminate the pair of them and a small area of the room around them, but Luke was okay with that.
“I think there’s a few things you neglected to mention when you spoke to my associate, Mr Renault,” he said, stepping back to the edge of the light while keeping his gun on the man before him.
“What are you talking about?” Jean- Paul asked, doing his best to conceal the unease he felt at discovering that the intruder was the assassin he was trying to hire, and that he was not happy.
“You failed to mention that you are under surveillance by Interpol,” Luke said. “They’re very keen on knowing what you do, where you go, and who you speak to. They even have your apartment bugged. Or I should say they did have it bugged.” He indicated several small items on the table next to the chair. “Fortunately, they have no idea that Der Bote is connected to me, and I am adept at spotting surveillance operations and evading them, so they have no idea that we have been in contact. Nonetheless, you should have made Der Bote aware that you’re under surveillance so I could factor it into my considerations.”
Jean-Paul shrugged. “It’s an occupational hazard. I’m sure you can appreciate that. Are you here to kill me or take the job?”
“That depends on how much you’re willing to pay.”
“Mr Noir has authorised me to pay you one million Euros,” Jean-Paul said without hesitation.
“And does Mr Noir think that a fair price for everything he wants me to do?”
“Yes. It’s far more than he pays any of his men, even me. It’s a very generous offer.” If he thought Caldwell was going to be impressed by that, Jean-Paul was mistaken.
“The rest of his men,” Luke said, “have so far failed to do anything more than kill a lot of Spanish police officers and some Interpol Agents. And in several cases get themselves caught. Whatever he pays them, it’s too much. So, tell me, what exactly is it Mr Noir wants me to do for one million Euros?”
“I already told your man that in Berlin.”
“Things could have changed since then. If I agree to take the job, I want to be certain of what is expected of me since there will be no further contact between us until the job is completed, so there can be no changes to what I’m hired to do. Be explicit.”
“Very well.” Jean-Paul eyed the bugs nervously, not convinced that they were no longer working. “In return for one million Euros, Mr Noir wants you to kill the two men the Barcelona Police have in custody and the witness, Sofia Torres, who, according to my source is being kept on a boat in Barcelona Harbour. Now, are you willing to take the job or not? If you aren’t, I need to know so I can find someone who is.”
“Do you honestly think a million is a fair price for this job? Because I don’t. I have a different price in mind, and it’s a lot higher than yours. Five million, sterling, not Euros, and that price is not open for negotiation.” Luke took a slip of paper from his pocket. “Half is to be paid up front into this account. I’ll be back tomorrow night, if the first payment has been made, to collect the information you have on the targets. One last thing,” he said. “I choose where, when, and how the targets are eliminated. If you or your cousin have any problems with that, you’d better go ahead and look for someone else to take care of your problems.”
He left then, disappearing so swiftly and silently that if it hadn’t been for the disabled bugs and the slip of paper, Jean-Paul would have doubted he had been there at all.
The main light in the room blazed on after about thirty seconds, startling Jean-Paul, who hadn’t moved. He remained in the chair for a while longer, until he had recovered from the shock of Caldwell’s visit, and then he got to his feet.
Crossing to the window, he pulled aside the curtain just far enough for him to look out. He didn’t know where the Interpol surveillance team was watching him from, whether they were in a vehicle or one of the buildings across the street, but he knew they were out there. It made him wonder how Caldwell had managed to get in and out of his apartment without being seen by them.
**
AFTER WHAT HAD HAPPENED the day before, Jean-Paul was unsurprised by the bout of nerves he was struck with when darkness fell. He tried to keep himself distracted and relaxed while at the same time keeping alert for the arrival of Luke Caldwell. Even so, he was startled when the hitman spoke.
“Have you got the information I need?”
Jean-Paul jumped violently. “You scared the crap out of me,” he said with an annoyed look at the wine he had spilled.
“You should pay more attention to your surroundings,” Luke said. “You’re in trouble if you can’t tell when someone is less than ten feet from you in a quiet room. You should have known I was here the moment I entered the apartment.”
“I’m sure if you were an ordinary killer, I would have, but you make a living from being able to sneak up on people,” Jean-Paul remarked.
“True. Have you got the information?” Luke asked.
“Yes. I hope there’s enough to satisfy you.” Jean-Paul retrieved the envelope he had been given by Rene Dubois and handed it over. “This is all the information my source has been able to find.”
“If I need anything else, I’ll be in touch, but don’t expect to hear from me until the job’s done unless there’s a problem.” Tucking the envelope inside his jacket, Luke left the apartment as silently as he had entered it. He had been there for barely a minute.