A Deceit to Die For (30 page)

“Okay, well, let me know if you need to go out, and I’ll send a car.”

She turned and gave him another full frontal and a huge smile

“You are sooo sweet.” She blew him a kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you tonight. Will you be working late again?”

“I hope not, but it is possible. I’ll call and let you know. I need to run.”

“Bye, darling.”

She closed the bathroom door. He grabbed his bag and headed out of the room.

The porter standing at the end of the marble hall pushed the button to call the elevator as soon as he saw Ahmet’s door open.

“Good morning, Jamil.”

“A blessed morning to you too, sir.”

“Did you tell me that your cousin was looking for work?” asked Ahmet.

“Yes, sir. He’s a very bright kid. Good with computers. He has a degree from Al-Azhar.”

“Can he use a digital camera?”

“Of course, I told you he is very good with technology.”

The elevator doors opened. Ahmet stepped in, turned to face the porter, and pushed the button to keep the door open.

“Tell him I want him outside this apartment in one hour with a camera. If Nafrit leaves, he is to follow her and take pictures of where she goes.”

He handed the man one hundred Egyptian pounds. The porter took the money with a slight bow.

“That is for taxis.”

The elevator doors closed, and less than twenty seconds later Ahmet stepped out of the elevator into the underground parking garage. His chauffeur was waiting at the elevator to take his bag when he stepped out.

“To the office, sir?”

“Yes, and hurry.”

He walked briskly to the black Mercedes CL. The chauffeur opened the door and he sank into the leather seats. As always, his driver had already started the car and turned on the air conditioner. Ahmet hated to sweat unless it was in bed. He grabbed the phone installed in the back seat and called the office.

“Good morning, Jabbar.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“Any news?”

“Nothing good.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He terminated the call, placed the phone back in its charger and looked out the window. They were crawling.

“What’s the problem?” he asked the chauffeur.

“There’s an accident in the other lane and every mother’s son has to stop and see who has been killed.”

Ahmet sighed. He hated waiting. He began to think about his objectives for the day and a few minutes later traffic started to flow again. Five minutes later, the car stopped at the security check point in front of Baraka Bank while two guards carrying HK G36s searched the trunk and the bottom of the car for bombs before waving them on to the parking garage underneath the bank. The car stopped in front of the elevators and a security guard opened his door.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.”

He placed his computer bag on the belt in front of the X-ray machine, walked through the metal detector and picked up his bag on the other side. Another security guard had already called the elevator and was holding the door for him. His ID card said that he worked at the bank as a security analyst, and though he was sure these men had no idea what he really did, they knew he was no security analyst and treated him accordingly. The elevator doors closed, and he began his uninterrupted ascent to the nineteenth floor. He didn’t even have to push a button to indicate the floor. The elevator only had buttons for floors 1-18. When the doors opened, he walked into his a high-tech command post.

CHAPTER
27

L
ONDON
 
 
“Okay, sleepy head. Wake up!” Gary looked over at his sleeping brother. He didn’t even stir. Gary set his book down on the table, walked over to the bed and looked down at his brother.
He probably hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours.
He would have gladly let him continue sleeping even though he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he did.

“Gilbert.”

He shook his arm gently.

“It’s time to wake up.”

Gilbert only groaned and rolled over. Gary walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, flooding the room with light. Gilbert pulled the covers over his head. Gary decided to appeal to his brother’s over-developed sense of discipline.

“Hey, it’s almost nine o’clock. Imagine what Dad would say if he heard you were sleeping in this late. You sleep any longer and you’ll miss lunch like you did breakfast.”

It had the desired effect. Gilbert sat upright in bed, rubbing his eyes and then squinted in the bright light.

“Don’t you think you should have gotten me up for an earlier start today?”

“I’ve been up since 7:30, had breakfast, read the paper and finished half a novel while you were in La-La land. But we can’t do anything until the autopsy is completed. Besides, you needed the rest.”

“Fair enough.”

He jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. Gary returned to his book. Hardly, a minute had gone by before the Blackberry beside Gilbert’s bed began to ring. Gary ignored it, but it didn’t stop. Finally, it stopped and switched over to voicemail. But thirty seconds later it rang again. It might be urgent. He set down the book and walked over to the bed.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Gilbert. This is Dr. Timothy White.”

“Doctor, this is Gilbert’s brother, Gary. He is in the shower right now. I can have him call you back as soon as he gets out.”

“No need. Just tell him that his suspicions were justified. If we could meet down at the police station around eleven thirty, the Superintendent would like to be there when we go over the autopsy.”

“You mean my father was killed?”

“Well, it was probably unintentional, but yes.”

“Wait a minute. What the hell does “unintentional” mean?”

“I think it would be better if I explain it to you and your brother in person.”

“Of course. We’ll be down there as soon as possible.”

Gary turned off the Blackberry and sat staring out the window.
Unintentionally killed? Was this the evil the Turkish imam was talking about? How does a 65-year-old man get killed accidentally in his own apartment?

A few minutes later, Gilbert walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He didn’t look any better than he had ten minutes ago. He hadn’t shaved, and his eyes were still swollen. He walked to his suitcase and pulled out his shaving kit.

“No time for that now, man. We need to get moving. The doctor called while you were in the shower.”

He paused.

“And . . . ?”

“He wants to see us at the police station in thirty minutes. It’s not good.”

“What did they find?”

“He wouldn’t give any particulars on the phone. He just said that Dad was accidently killed.”

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed and his face hardened.

“Alright, let’s get down there and find out what happened.”

Gilbert dropped the towel and walked butt-naked over to the suitcase and started rummaging, pulling out socks, underwear, a t-shirt and jeans.

“You said the document was old, right?”

“It looked old to me.”

“What kind of document do people kill for, Gilbert? Could it be some rare and priceless collector’s item? It’s all a bit weird, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea what it is, but as soon as this meeting with the Doctor is over, that is what we need to focus on. Say, do you think one of us should be with Gwyn? Could she be in any danger?”

“I don’t see how.”

“Gary, what if Dad was killed for the document that she has now?”

“Hmm. I see your point, but could anyone know that she has it or where she is?”
Gilbert shook his head and scowled before saying with an I-know-more-about-this-than-you tone of voice, “It is not hard to find this information if you have the connections and the money they will want for it. Believe me, we deal with cases like this all the time. Information is the gold of the modern age, and there are plenty of miners out there. Let’s just hope that isn’t the type of people we’re dealing with.”

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Salih was fit to be tied. “You told me the autopsy would be a formality, that the cause of death would be a heart attack, and that no suspicion would be aroused. That doesn’t seem to be the case”

The man in the chair on the other side of the desk was wearing the uniform of the Metropolitan police, but he was clearly not the authority figure in this conversation.

“Apparently Gilbert O’Brien had a doctor retained by his company to provide a second opinion on the autopsy. There was nothing we could do without attracting attention.”

Allah kahretsin. Gilbert was on to something. What was it? Had the professor left an explanation?
Salih could not know for sure, but his gut feeling was not good; even worse, it didn’t matter now. There was no way to speed up the plan. The feeling that catastrophe was lurking around some inscrutable corner had been haunting him all day. This new development only intensified the feeling. He had handled delicate jobs before. This was the first time he had experienced such anxiety. It was almost like a panic attack. He told himself to relax. It didn’t work.

The operation was hours away and all the preparations had been made. There was no sense sitting here allowing himself to get more and more wound up. It would be a long night anyway. His decision was instant.

“Mahmut.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m going to have lunch at home today. Escort our friend out by the freight elevator. I’ll be back in an hour and a half. If anything unexpected happens, let me know immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

He picked up his bag and headed for the door.

“One more thing. If Ahmet calls, just patch him through on my cell. There is no need to tell him I am out for lunch.”

“Of course.”

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The taxi slowed down and pulled up to the curb. He looked at them in the rearview mirror and said with a thick Jamaican accent,

“This is the police station.”

Gilbert looked down at the meter, pulled out a fifty pound note and said, “Keep the change.”

Superintendent McIntosh was there to meet them at the door. He led them down a long hallway with tiny offices teeming with detectives. Gary could see the doctor in an office at the end of the hall through the large glass wall. The Superintendent held the door for them and they walked in and shook the doctor’s hand.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Doctor,” Gilbert said.