I turned off the power with fifteen minutes to kill, while keeping my eye on the motel and listening to the radio, feeling really pleased that I’d got it together to call. It would surprise her. I was cut out of the daydream by a news headline.
‘ . . . the deadly gun battle only minutes away from vacationing families. We’ll bring you more from the scene after these messages…’
Once I’d listened to an important announcement about this week’s sportswear specials at Sears, a very serious voice tried to give weight to the popcorn-style report he was presenting. They had found bodies at the house, and they were thought to be Middle Eastern. However, police were not yet releasing further details. His voice dropped an octave for extra gravitas. Unconfirmed reports suggested that the dead men could be terrorists.
At least there was no mention of any dead police, which meant no pissed-off cops hunting for the Bonnie and Clyde who’d murdered their best mates. I sat and listened to the rest of the news, very aware of the uncomfortable dampness of my jeans.
It was about seventeen minutes past twelve. I powered up the phone and called the UK again, flicking my eyes between the keypad and the motel door. I got the ringing tone and turned off the radio.
Our conversations when she was at school were normally quite strained, because she was in the office and people were listening in, and, like the grandparents, they still didn’t understand how someone as erratic as me could be in charge of a child’s welfare.
It rang, she answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi, how are you today!’ I always tried to sound really happy to put her at ease.
‘Fine. Where are you?’
I could hear phones ringing and Miss Grenfell-Brodie fussing around in the background.
‘I’m in London, still working. How’s school?’
‘Fine.’
‘And Granny and Grandad? Did you have a good time?’
‘It was OK.’ Her tone suddenly shifted. ‘Hey, Nick, it’s really cool you called!’
It was great to hear her voice as well. ‘See, I promised I’d ring you, and I have, haven’t I? You see, a normal person’s promise. Are you impressed, or what?’
She started to spark up. ‘Yes, and do you know what? The whole school sang “Happy Birthday” to me today in assembly. Well, Louise, Catherine and me. They had birthdays in the holidays, too. Are you impressed, or what?’
I imagined Miss Grenfell-Brodie giving Kelly a disapproving look.
‘We don’t say “or what,” remember? Anyway, was it embarrassing?’
‘No! My class have bought a present for me. A book of amazing facts; it’s really cool.’
‘Wow!’ I said, trying to work up some enthusiasm. ‘So what have you been doing today?’
‘Hmmm, mostly the Geography project, I guess.’
‘That’s good. I used to love that at school.’ I looked skywards in case a bolt of lightning was heading my way.
‘We had wet breaks all day today,’ she chatted on. ‘Is it raining in London?’
‘Pouring, I got soaked. It was raining cats and dogs. Especially dogs.’
We both laughed. She said, ‘Have you talked with Josh yet? Are they back home?’
‘No, they won’t be home until tomorrow.’
‘Oh, OK. We need to send a card to say thank you for them coming to see us.’
I thought I was the one who had to come up with the grown-up, parent-type stuff. ‘OK. Can you be in charge of that? It would be a really nice surprise for them. Tell them a few amazing facts while you’re at it.’
‘I will, during Letters.’
‘Great, they’ll love that.’ Letters was an hour set aside each Saturday after study time, when the kids who were boarders had to write to their parents. Or, if you were Kelly, guardian and grandparents.
A truck parked between me and the motel. She was still prattling on while I moved in my seat to keep the trigger, and at the same time used the opportunity to adjust my damp jeans. ‘I wished we could have stayed with them, Nick. Can we go back to the ship?’
‘Yeah, no problem.’ I realized I was still feeling guilty. She could have asked for anything at that moment and I’d have agreed to it. The traffic was still screaming past between the target and me, throwing up clouds of water.
‘Can Josh and everyone come?’
‘Of course. As soon as we go on the next long holiday. Make sure you ask Josh in the card, OK?’
Even as I heard myself saying it, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. The chances of Josh being able to get over to the UK with his kids again were slim because of the expense. I said, ‘I’ve got to go now. You have a really, really happy birthday time tonight.’
‘OK, are you going to ring me again soon?’
‘I hope so. I won’t be able to this week, but I’ll definitely call after the weekend, promise. NPP. Are you seeing Granny and Grandad at all?’
‘Yes. There’s no Drama on Saturday, so after Study Time and Letters Granny said I can go stay with them.’
I was pleased about that, because if they weren’t able to have her some weekends she didn’t get to leave the school grounds.
‘OK, listen, have a great day.’
‘I will. I love you.’
It always felt weird when she did that. I liked it, but I could never say it unless she did first. If I did, it made me feel like I was intruding. ‘I love you, too. Now there’s another amazing fact! OK, back to class. I’ll speak to you soon, all right?’
She laughed and the phone went dead. I guessed she knew she had to make the first move.
She was happy that I’d called – and I was happy that I’d remembered to. What was more, it was a lot easier to do now that I knew the Firm knew about her. I didn’t have to get out of the car and use a public call box. I cleared both numbers from the recall menu and closed down.
The truck had moved, so I no longer had to sit like a contortionist to keep the trigger. I sat there for a minute just looking at the motel door and the traffic cruising between us, feeling very pleased with myself.
I switched back into work mode, pulled $5 out of my wallet and went and bought a Coke, trying my best to ‘keep dog’ on the target through the windows. Once out on the forecourt with my pint and a half of Coke and ice in my hand, I went to the bank of four phones which stood beside the Burger King next door.
I pulled out the handset to its full extent so that I could still see the motel. The roar of the traffic was almost deafening. I put my money in to call directory assistance. Pushing my finger in my ear and pulling on the handset for that last inch of line to keep the trigger, I shouted, ‘Washington DC, British Embassy, Massachusetts Avenue, please.’ I had to say it again because of the traffic, plus she couldn’t understand my Australian accent.
I dialled the number and finally got through to who I wanted. ‘Michael, it’s Nick. I need some help, and I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.’
There was a slight pause as Metal Mickey mulled this one over. ‘Well, that depends on what exactly the offer was.’ I could imagine the smile on his face.
‘It’s just some questions that need answering, nothing that’ll get you into trouble.’ I could hear myself shouting down the phone to overcome the traffic noise.
‘Good. I would just hate to be a naughty boy.’
I bet he would. ‘No, mate, no trouble. Have you a pen?’
He gave a slow, ‘O–K,’ as he looked for it.
‘I need anything that you can find on a handling name – Yousef. Anything you can get.’
He sounded surprised at my plain speech on the phone. ‘Nick, aren’t you the naughty one! You’re supposed to be the one concerned with security.’ He giggled like a schoolboy.
‘I know, mate, but this is important and I haven’t any time to mess about. The other thing I need to know is what exactly Sarah’s been working on these last two years in the US, plus, what did she do the two years before that? I know you don’t know now, but I just know you’ll be able to find out.’
‘Why, Nick, you old flatterer, you.’ He started to laugh as he wrote a note to himself. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be the one in the loop?’
I let out a sigh. ‘Yeah, I know, mate, but I’ve fucked up and got myself in a muddle. I don’t really want to call London and get it sorted out. First time doing this sort of job, and all that. It would be very embarrassing.’
He let out a squeal of delight. ‘Oh, tell me about it!’
I didn’t have a clue what he was on about and just carried on before he had the chance to tell me. ‘Finally, I need to know what Netanyahu and Arafat are getting up to this week. You know, times, places, that sort of thing.’
‘O–K. You are a busy boy, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, and one last thing. I need to know the names and backgrounds of the four men killed last night at a place called Little Lick Creek in North Carolina.’
There was a pause; I could almost hear the cogs churning as he linked this to Sarah and her country breaks. I was expecting a reply along the lines of, ‘I don’t feel comfortable with this, Nick,’ but instead got a very nonchalant, ‘When do you need this by?’
‘Later this afternoon would be great. Do you think you can?’ I had to turn back towards the booth to hear him as three trucks thundered past.
‘No, but I know a man who might. I can’t wait to call him.’
‘Thanks for that, Michael, I really appreciate it. There is no-one else I can ask – you know how it is. But I would like this one to be just between you, me and the gatepost, OK?’
‘You, me and the gatepost, mmm, sounds interesting. Byeee!’
I stepped back into the booth and hung up. I would rather have been talking with Josh, but I couldn’t – until he got back from the UK, Metal Mickey would have to do.
The rain had given me a new layer of wet on the shoulders of my jacket and hair. My forearm was starting to sting again. Walking to the car, I lifted up my jacket cuff to investigate. Not good. There were scabs forming, but the bites were deep and needed cleaning and dressing by someone who really knew what they were doing. At least when it scarred I wouldn’t have to explain anything. The teeth marks said all there was to say.
I did a drive-past of the motel, checking to see if there was anything abnormal, such as sixteen police cars and twice as many shotguns, ready to pounce. Nothing. I parked up and walked past the reception. Looking through the glass doors, I could see that Donna was still at reception, still reading whatever was so riveting below the desk. There was a tray of Danishes next to the coffee machine for the guests, and a bowl of big red apples. Everything looked absolutely normal.
I put my relaxed face on and headed through the door. Three children were fighting over who was going to carry what bag. I smelled the coffee and remembered I was hungry. Leaving the family to sort out its shit, I walked over to the machine, picked up coffees, four apples and the same amount of pastries, and then went back over to Donna.
‘We’ve decided to check out early now we have a replacement car,’ I said, breaking the corner off one of the Danishes and taking a bite.
‘Sure, no problem, but I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you full price.’ She printed out the bill and I checked it to see if there were any phone calls logged. There weren’t. I signed the card counterfoil.
I went to the room. The two telltales were still in place. Knocking on the door, I made sure she could see me through the spyhole as I pulled them out.
The heat was stifling, and the moisture from the drying clothes and bodies had made it as humid as a greenhouse. She’d gone back to watching TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, still with a towel around her. She took her plate and coffee without looking at me, her eyes glued to the screen. ‘It’s the third bulletin I’ve seen.’
As I joined her on the bed, I could see that it was a rerun of what I’d heard on the radio. A reporter was talking with a background of police cars and vans, and then the woods. He was wearing a brand-new blue Gore-Tex jacket, probably bought on expenses at Sears on the way to the lake; the hood was down so that you could see his very perfect, plastic hair and face, and he was talking in that earnest here-we-are-at-the-scene tone of voice. The shootings had happened hours ago, but he had to make it sound like the bad guys could reappear any minute.
I said, ‘Have they mentioned any details?’
She was sounding quite excited. ‘Yes. They’ve all said it was two men at the gas station, but there are unconfirmed reports that one of them could be a woman. The FBI are at both scenes, but there’s been no official statement yet.’ She took a bite of Danish and spoke through a mouthful of pastry. ‘That woman in the blue Mazda must have been really scared if she couldn’t see I was female.’
I had to agree. But then again, maybe they were going on the dogs finding Sarah’s knickers. After another mouthful she added, ‘There’s been no mention of Lance.’
I wasn’t bothered by that; I knew they wouldn’t be giving the media everything they knew. Unless they hadn’t found him yet. The main thing was that no police had been killed.