A Poison Tree (Time, Blood and Karma Book 3) (17 page)

24

JAMES

At the south edge of Leicester’s Victoria Park, near the concert venue of De Montford Hall, stands a tall, imposing memorial to the dead of the two World Wars.

On this particular afternoon, the
grotesquely oversized edifice looked bleaker than usual, more inhuman. The sky was weighed down with grey clouds and a cold wind whipped across the park. The trees were shedding their leaves, capitulating to the gusts that invaded their branches. Only a few people braved the threatening weather. They scuttled across the expanse of grass, hands in pockets, heads down.

Jim Fosse hunched his shoulders and shivered as he walked towards the symmetrical stone construction. He disliked the English autumn and winter. Spring was little better and the summer was too short and unpredictable. He much preferred the tropics.

I will be glad to be off this shabby little island. It’s so fucking pleased with itself. I’ve been here too long.

The towering memorial encapsulated for
the American everything that was wrong with England. Forever chained to its glorious past, it had no meaningful focus on the present or the future. The country was like some old dowager who demanded respect, yet was no longer capable of wiping her own bottom.

A man waited for him. He was
tall and clad in a long black coat with the collar turned up. In spite of the opaque light, he wore mirrored sunglasses. His hair and full beard were bright ginger, the only splash of colour in an otherwise dreary landscape. If the sunglasses were meant to be some form of disguise, it seemed like a waste of time. The red facial hair drew immediate attention.

“Mr
. Andrews?”

“Mr
. Fosse.”

They shook hands. Andrews’ grip was firm and dry.

“Let’s walk while we talk,” said the Scotsman. “It’s too cold to stand around.”

“Agreed. I wish you’d picked somewhere warmer to meet. Can’t we find a café or somewhere more hospitable?”

“A public park is better. There’s less chance of being overheard. And on an afternoon like this, nobody will take any notice of us. Everyone just wants to get somewhere warm.”

Jim looked up at the sky.

“If it starts raining we’ll get soaked and there’s nowhere to shelter. I should have brought an umbrella.”

“How very English of you.” Andrews gave him a humourless
look. “This will only take a few minutes.”

Three students from the university sprinted past them, heading for the pub on the corner of London Road.

“When we last spoke,” said Andrews, “I had the impression that you might be having second thoughts about our arrangement.”

“No,” Jim responded quickly. “Not at all. I emailed you the information you requested, didn’t I?”

“You did. That email account is now closed, by the way.”

“You’re a cautious man, Mr
. Andrews.”

“I still require your travel schedule.”

Jim reached into his coat pocket and handed the Scotsman an envelope. Andrews removed the paper from inside and looked over it. “So you’re leaving for the Philippines the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Andrews grunted. “Good. And you have the cash? I gave you enough time to get it together.”

“I have the cash.”

“Sterling?”

“Yes.”

“Denominations no larger than ten pounds?”

“Yes. As you
specified.”

“And you are sure you just want the one person taken care of
?”

Jim tried to swallow but found his throat was dry. The man’s matter-of-fact manner unnerved him. “How much would it cost to take care of the two?”

“Double the price of one.”

“No discount? As you’re here anyway?”

“I am not a wholesaler, Mr. Fosse. I don’t negotiate on these matters.”

“Everyone negotiates.”

“I assure you, you are mistaken.” The voice was cold.

“Just the one problem to be taken care of,” responded the American. “That’s enough for me.”

They walked in silence for a while. Then Andrews said, “Here is what you will do. Tomorrow morning at around eight o’clock you will deposit an attaché case containing the money at the front desk of the Grand Hotel. You will say it is for me to collect. The case will have a combination lock. You will set the combination on each lock dial to six. Is that clear? I don’t want to have to break it open.”

“
Perfectly clear. Are you staying at the Grand, then?”

“That is not your concern. But the hotel staff will be expecting it.”

“I see.”

“If the case is not at the hotel by eight-thirty at the latest, I will consider our arrangement null and void.”

“It will be there.”

“I hope so. If it is not, you and I will have a problem.”
Andrews stopped walking and looked at him.

“There will be no problem, Mr
. Andrews.”

“Good. Then our business is concluded.”

“What happens if I need to contact you again? Can I call you?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The Scotsman turned and walked away, his feet crushing dead leaves.

25

ADELE

While she waited for her brother’s arrival, Adele busied herself tidying her apartment.  Ross had phoned her earlier. He was already in Leicester, enjoying the miserable weather, as he put it. She plumped cushions and dusted surfaces.

Idle, random themes meandered through her head. She
reflected back on the Sunday of her second visit to St. Mark’s. That had been a surreal day. After crossing swords with Eleanor at the vicarage, she had gone to the club, where Nina had been in a sparkling mood.

“The other day, I had a customer that wanted me to dress up as a nun for him,” she had announced.

“That sounds a bit of a passive role for you, sweetheart,” Leona had responded. “Do you even have a nun’s outfit?”

“Nope. But he’d brought one for me.”

“What did you do?”

“I told him it was a filthy habit.”

Adele laughed. “You are so outrageous.”

“We agreed on a compromise with a religious theme. I put a dog collar on him.”

“A vicar’s dog collar?”

“No. One of my leather studded ones, with a lead attached.”

“What was religious about that?”

“Well, he spent a lot of time on his knees.”

The entrance buzzer interrupted Adele’s reminiscences.

She
gawped at the sight that greeted her when she opened the door. “What on earth have you done to yourself, Ross?”

“I needed to look different for a while.” He took off his sunglasses and moved past her, d
ropping his coat and bag on the sofa.

“Ginger? You dyed your hair
ginger
? And what’s with the beard? You’re like something out of
The Lord of the Rings
.”

“Yes, I need to get rid of this. Can I use your bathroom?” He took
a box of brown hair dye from the bag.

“Give that to me. I’ll do it for you. You’ll make a mess and end up green. That would not be a good look.”

“Thanks, Ad. Let me shave first though.”

“Please do. That beard is disgusting. I
’m surprised it hasn’t got birds nesting in it.”

Ross emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and Adele stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “That’s better. You’re my handsome brother again. Now we just need to lose the red hair. Want a cup of tea first?”

Adele knew better than to ask the reason for the heavy disguise. Ross would only give her some vague answer which would stimulate her curiosity further. Whenever he turned up with an altered appearance, his explanations included ‘bodyguard work’, ‘anonymity while in a Muslim country’ and ‘client instructions for security reasons’. It crossed her mind that perhaps he was involved in spying and bound by the Official Secrets Act. More likely, however, was that criminal activity was involved, and his silence was his way of protecting her.

Maybe someday he’d tell her.

Or maybe not.

Now and again
, Adele had asked about his love life. He always replied that he travelled too much to have a regular girlfriend, so he had to ‘make do’ with whatever female company was to hand in whichever Third World country he was billeted. She had a dread that he would turn up at the Gold Club during a visit, and discover other men were ‘making do’ with his sister. When he had been in Leicester previously, she had to make up late night stocktaking duties to explain her absence. It was fortunate he never stayed long.

She handed Ross a mug of tea.
“Still one sugar, right?”

“Right.”

“Where are your suitcases?”

“I’ve checked into a hotel.”

“Why? Isn’t my flat good enough for you?”

He hugged her. “Don’t be silly. I didn’t want to impose.”

“You imposed last time without any problem.”

“Well, I have a couple of business meetings at one of the hotels in town, so it
seemed best to stay there. I might have a few drinks, and I don’t want to drive afterwards.”

“You’ve hired a car?”

“Yep. Stuff to do,” he added without further explanation. “Plus I want to take you out to dinner at one of the nice little restaurants in Harborough tonight. Get out of the Leicester for the evening. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me.
”

Adele watched Ross as he sipped his tea. He was a good-looking man and he kept himself fit. He appeared less stressed than the last time she had seen him, although his eyes were always alert, as if some unidentified danger might lurk close by. She put this down to his time in the army. Alertness meant survival in a combat situation, and Ross had been in several of those. Friends of his had died on active service. Those sort of experiences could have you
r eyes scouring rooftops for snipers for the rest of your life, if you couldn’t find some way to make peace with yourself. She wondered whether he suffered from nightmares. There were many things she wondered about her half-brother. Most of her questions would remain unanswered. Of that, at least, she was sure.

“How long are you staying for?”

“A few days. Then I’ll go up to see Mam before I fly out again.”

“Ah.”

“Have you spoken to her recently, Ad?”

“A few days ago.”

“And?”

“Nothing changes, Ross. If you want to see her sober, you’d best arrive before breakfast.”

He sighed. “And what about you, then, sis? What are you up to at the moment?”

Oh, you know,
the usual thing, Ross. Fucking complete strangers for money every weekend and hoping the condom doesn’t split.

“Same old, same old. Working on the till. Doing overtime when it’s available. Watching TV and doing laundry.”

“No man on the scene?”

Only an hour at a time.

“No. But I have started going to church recently.”

Ross looked up in surprise. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not. And it’s a Church of England one too.”

“Sleeping with the enemy, Adele?” He laughed. “Does your friend
Moira know about this? She’ll bloody well kill you.”

“No way am I telling Moira.”

“So what’s brought this on? Does this church have a cute vicar, or something?”

Adele felt herself blushing. “Don’t be silly.”

“Oh, my God,” Ross said, feeding her embarrassment. “He
is
a cute vicar, isn’t he? You’ve got the hots for a reverend.”

“Shut up.”

Ross smirked and swallowed another mouthful of tea.

“Oh,” he said
, looking animated, “before I forget. I brought you a present.”

He went to his bag, pulled out a small blue box with a ribbon and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

The box contained an intricately-wrought silver bracelet. Adele put it on.

“Oh, Ross, you shouldn’t have. It’s beautiful.” She kissed him.

“Who else am I going to buy things for, other than my little sister, eh? If I bought one for Mam she’d just pawn it to buy booze.”

“I’d best dye your hair then, by way of a thank you.”

“I’ll take a shower first, OK? Then I’ll let you know when I’m decent.”

“There are towels in there.”

“Right.” He washed out his mug in the sink and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and locking it.

Adele
went to move Ross’ bag off the sofa. As she did so, she caught sight of a passport poking out and tucked beside it, another passport. Curiosity got the better of her. The first passport was in Ross’ name, but the second, which contained a different photograph of him, was in the name of Laughlan Andrews.

Either Ross was indeed working for the British Government, or the explanation as to why he needed a fake passport was altogether more sinister. Adele could hear the shower still running.
She had a minute or two yet. She rummaged deeper into the holdall, being careful to make as little noise as possible. Most of the contents were unremarkable. But at the bottom, something heavy was wrapped in a hand-towel. She unwrapped the object and her hand touched metal. It was a gun. In another towel was an ammunition clip and what she took to be a silencer.

At that moment, the shower
was turned off.

She
arranged the contents of the bag as she had found them, and hurried back into the kitchen.

A few seconds later, Ross poked his head around the bathroom door and called, “I’m ready for you now, sis. Come and make me look beautiful.”

“Coming.”

“Then we’ll go out. I’m starving, and I could kill for a pint.”