The Darkest Day (15 page)

Victor saw no more of the man in the blue suit while he scouted through the rest of the museum, but he had only identified a fraction of the watchers. Twenty-one men formed a huge crew. To shadow one man it seemed beyond excessive, but after Victor had managed to steal Halleck away from eleven men it made a certain sense. Halleck was taking no chances. As eleven hadn’t been enough, he had almost doubled the number of men. But the eleven in Ireland had been there to protect him. The twenty-one in New York were here to keep track of Victor. That didn’t make sense.

The watcher on the train wouldn’t know the overall objective. If he had, he would have told Victor. He had been too intimidated to withhold any information. And he knew Victor wouldn’t let him walk away a second time, so however the watcher managed it, he would find a way to get out of his duty – pretending to be sick or injured or perhaps even going AWOL. Whatever the excuse, Victor had taken the total number of Halleck’s men down to twenty. Still a huge opposition. Although, at least for now, they were just a nuisance.

It was a task made more difficult whilst trying to hunt down Raven without her knowledge. He kept moving. He didn’t know how long she would be in the museum. There was a chance that if Raven was in motion too, he might fail to see her as they both passed along their separate routes, never crossing through the same place at the same time. It was a risk he had to take. This was the only lead he had. With federal agents on to her safe house, Raven might never return to it, and Victor might not get another opportunity to take her by surprise.

Then, he might only see Raven again in the second before she killed him.

The museum housed a number of cafés and bars where visitors and staff alike took breaks for refreshment and reflection. He checked them all out because if Raven was meeting someone here one of these locations seemed an obvious place. He drank a bottle of water to stay hydrated, but did not linger in any one place. He had to be fast. He was running out of time.

In the Ming-style scholar’s garden of Astor Court he saw a woman from behind who was an equal for Raven’s height and physique, but on closer inspection she proved to be a negative match.

He headed for the Modern Art wing and ascended to the museum’s roof and its outdoor sculpture gallery and garden. The roof garden would be a good place for a meeting – no through traffic of tourists; fewer opportunities to be observed and overheard. It was ten to four. The cool air was refreshing and now the rain had ceased the autumn sunshine felt warm on his face. Visitors stood, mouths open, awed by the magnificent views of Central Park.

He wandered around the roof garden, his gaze passing over tourists and art lovers, looking out for slim women over five foot nine or the man in the blue suit.

The sculptures were comprised of installations by contemporary and twentieth-century artists, changed each year. Victor had little time for modern art, but the arrangement of the sculpture garden, its position on the roof, and the sweeping backdrop of the park to the west of the city made it a pleasurable space. The sculptures were almost unnecessary. The panoramic view of Manhattan alone was worth the trip up to the roof. The sun was low and the skyline to the west was a silhouette of black against blazing red and orange.

He saw a woman in a grey dress standing by the wall and hedge on the roof garden’s southern edge. She had her back to him as she gazed out. At what, he didn’t know. He judged her to be five-nine, made almost six feet by heels. She had dark hair tied up in a bun. The height and physique were right. She was alone. If she was here to meet someone they hadn’t arrived or had already gone.

As he neared he adjusted his trajectory, wandering close to sculptures he did not understand to disguise his intentions. He looked around. The whole area was busy with people engrossed in the sculptures, the views or one another.

This would not be a clean kill. There would be witnesses. It might even be captured as an image or video recording by the numerous cameras and cell phones that were everywhere.

He wanted to end the threat now. He didn’t know when, or if, he would get another opportunity to strike.

But the risk of exposure was too high. He would follow her instead and wait for a better opportunity.

He became aware of someone standing next to him a second before Raven said, ‘Do you have a light?’

Victor turned and took a step back to create distance, but did not raise his hands to strike or defend for the same reason he had decided against attacking the woman in the grey dress he had thought to be Raven. The rooftop was too exposed. If it was not, Raven could have killed him. He hadn’t seen her. His focus had been on the woman in the heels. Raven had a cigarette in between her right fore and index fingers.

Raven said, ‘Why don’t you quit staring at her and ask for her number? You look like a creep.’

She had red hair and wore tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses. She was wearing a well-tailored business suit, black with a pinstripe. A smart black bag hung from one shoulder. Her manicured hands were free of weapons, but unencumbered save for the cigarette, which was no encumbrance at all.

‘So, about that light?’ she asked.

Victor said, ‘You can’t smoke here.’

She sighed, as if a genuine sadness had come over her. ‘Next you’ll be telling me that I shouldn’t be smoking at all.’

‘It’s bad for your health.’

She held his gaze. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. Hers were even darker.

She said, ‘It’ll kill me?’

He stared back, right into his own reflection. ‘No, smoking isn’t going to kill you. That’s one thing you can be certain of.’

She put the cigarette away into a silver case. It snapped shut and she dropped it into her bag.

‘I take it you want to make sure my demise is sooner, rather than later.’

Victor nodded. ‘How did you guess?’

She looked away and out over Central Park. ‘Do you even know why?’

‘I’m not irrational, if that’s what you’re asking.’

She looked back at him. ‘Because I took a few shots at you?’

‘You did more than that.’

‘So you’re after revenge?’

He said, ‘Revenge is never part of my actions,’ thinking about the single time it had been.

She regarded him as if she could see both the truth and the lie at the same time. ‘Then why?’

‘Self-preservation,’ he answered. ‘That’s the only reason I kill anyone I’m not paid to.’

Her eyebrows moved closer together. ‘So no one paid you to come after me?’

‘I’m paying myself. Pro bono.’

She smirked at that. ‘I like you.’

‘The feeling isn’t mutual.’

‘Give it time. You’ll end up quite besotted.’

‘Nothing is going to stop me from killing you.’

‘Then why don’t you kill me now? I’m standing right here next to you. I’m unarmed. Vulnerable. Just a weak little woman against a big strong man.’

‘You’re not weak,’ he said. ‘And you’re not vulnerable.’

‘So you’re chicken?’

He smiled to acknowledge the joke. ‘Two reasons: one…’ He glanced around at the numerous witnesses. ‘And two: I want information first.’

She seemed surprised. Which in turned surprised him. ‘About what?’

‘About who sent you after me. I want everything you know about them.’

The surprise mellowed into curiosity. ‘Why would you think anyone sent me?’

‘You’re a hired gun, like me. Who hired you?’

A corner of her mouth turned up a fraction. ‘Is it completely outside the realm of comprehension that I might be working for no one, that I might be my own client? The same as you’re telling yourself that you are now.’

‘It is outside the realm of comprehension,’ Victor said. ‘We’ve never crossed paths before now. People try to kill me all the time, and it’s never by accident. There’s always a client or a broker behind it. There’s always a good reason. I always deserve it. But not this time. I didn’t even know you existed before you tried to kill me.’

‘And that means you can’t be my enemy?’

He studied her. ‘Did I kill your husband or brother or father?’

‘No, no, and no,’ she said. ‘At least as far as I know.’

‘Exactly. Who paid you? Who are you meeting here? If it’s your client or broker, maybe you can survive this after all.’

‘You’re so close to the truth and you don’t even realise, do you?’

‘One way or the other, I’ll find out.’

‘I have no doubts you will. You’ve got this far, after all.’

He detected sarcasm in her voice but didn’t respond. He said nothing more for the moment. Neither did Raven. Around them people young and old, male and female talked and laughed and admired the views and the art. They took photographs of the installations and themselves and of themselves with the installations. They sipped coffee and cocktails and ate expensive snacks in the roof garden’s café and martini bar.

‘I love this place,’ Raven said. ‘It was created through arrogance. The founders wanted to build somewhere to rival the great museums of Europe.’

‘I’d say they succeeded.’

‘First time here?’

He looked at her. ‘And last.’

She understood what he meant. ‘That’s a shame. For both of us, I mean. But it doesn’t have to be like that.’

‘Yes, it does. You know that.’

A look of sadness passed over her face. ‘I suppose we should get this over with. But as you said, it’s too public up here. Why don’t we go somewhere with some privacy? No need to upset these nice people, is there?’

It was a trap, he knew. But he also wanted to leave the roof and all the witnesses.

He nodded as she stared into his eyes. ‘Some privacy would be good.’

They walked across the roof to the elevator. She headed that way and he let her. He kept her close – but not too close – and in his peripheral vision at all times. She did the same. They waited to allow a chubby family out and stepped inside. They faced each other from across the car. No one else was inside. Victor didn’t blink as she extended her arm to knuckle the button for the ground floor.

Her fingers were long and slender but he could see the strength in her wrists and exposed forearms. The wrist flexors were defined and the brachioradialis had uncommon prominence.

She saw him looking and made a fist to greater emphasise the muscles. ‘Would you like to arm wrestle?’

‘You should wear long sleeves.’

‘I tell people I climb.’

‘I tell people the same,’ he said. ‘But I do climb.’

‘Sure you want to go through with this?’ she asked.

He said, ‘I haven’t survived this long by ignoring threats.’

‘I’m no threat to you.’

‘You tried to kill me.’

‘What’s the significant part of that statement?’

He studied her face. Her skin was smooth, and freckled over the cheekbones. ‘Are you saying you no longer want to kill me?’

‘I never
wanted
to kill you.’

‘Games don’t work on me, Constance,’ Victor said. ‘You can’t manipulate me. Playing sweet and innocent is a waste of your time. You can’t appeal to my humanity. I have none left. I traded the last of it in a long time ago. I’m here to kill you before you kill me. There’s nothing more to it than that.’

Her eyebrows raised at the use of her name. ‘You know a lot about me then.’

‘Of course.’

‘Of course,’ she repeated. ‘It’s not sexy, is it? Constance. Sounds so old-fashioned. My parents were hippies. My American mother and Indian father wanted to celebrate their uncommon bond. At least, it was uncommon back then. They wanted a name for their first child that encapsulated the bringing together of East and West. Have you ever heard anything so corny?’

‘Constance for Constantinople, where Europe and Asia meet.’

‘I guess they couldn’t make a name from Istanbul.’

‘I like Constance,’ he admitted. ‘I like names that have meaning.’

‘I guess I’m used to it by now. But I feel at a disadvantage,’ Raven began. ‘If you know my name then you know everything about me. I, on the other hand, know nothing about you.’

‘Which is the way I prefer it.’

She said, ‘What’s your name?’

‘I don’t have one.’

‘Everyone has a name.’

‘Not me.’

‘Fine. Be like that. But what happened to sportsmanship?’

‘Do I look like I play by a set of rules to you?’

She examined him, a groove between her eyebrows. ‘Actually, you do. You look like a gentleman. You look like someone who believes in fairness.’

‘Then I’m a better actor than I thought.’

‘When we act,’ she countered, ‘there is always a part of ourselves in the role we play.’

Victor remained silent.

‘Don’t you agree?’ Raven said.

‘I didn’t come here to chitchat,’ he replied. ‘And I’m getting bored of this now.’

A small smile played on her lips. ‘No, you’re not.’

The elevator doors opened on the subterranean parking garage.

‘After you,’ she said.

Victor smirked and stepped out backwards. The ceiling was low, only four inches above his head. Raven followed him.

‘How do you want to do this?’ she asked.

‘I’d prefer to keep that to myself for now.’

She said, ‘What I mean is: should I start running yet?’

‘I’m not fooled by your passivity, Constance. We both know you’re not going to let me kill you. You’ll fight to the very end.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘Because that’s what I’d do,’ Victor said. ‘You’re just like me.’

She frowned. ‘I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment.’

‘It’s neither.’

‘I think it was a compliment,’ she said with a teasing smile. ‘I think you like me.’

‘Then you have an inflated opinion of yourself. And you’re stalling for time. Don’t think I don’t know that. What are you waiting for? Your employer? Backup? Is that who you had arranged to meet at four p.m.?’

‘I’m not meeting anyone,’ she said. ‘Besides you.’

‘Why bother pretending?’ Victor asked. ‘I tracked you here, didn’t I? How do you think I did that?’

She smiled at him, incredulous. ‘You tracked me?’

He looked at her lips and eyes, open with surprise and mirth and disbelief.

He regarded her for a moment. Her expression looked genuine. He thought about the book and the code and how he had come here thinking he was following a lead when maybe it had been nothing more than bait. He had realised in Prague she could predict his actions as he could hers. He should have remembered that lesson.

Victor said, ‘You left the book for me?’

‘What are you talking about?’ She frowned. ‘What book?’

He stopped himself answering. He reminded himself that manipulation was as powerful a weapon as any gun. He saw she was regarding him as he had regarded her.

Then her expression hardened as she looked over his shoulder. Victor didn’t look too. He wasn’t about to fall for such an obvious trick.

‘Did you come here alone?’ Raven asked.

‘I work alone.’

She absorbed this, then said, ‘Could anyone have shadowed you? Don’t look back.’

‘I’m not going to look back. You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to take me by surprise.’

‘It’s not a trick.’

Something in her voice made him believe the enquiry could be sincere. His mind flashed back to the man he’d seen reflected in the pool in the Temple of Dendur. But she could still be lying, hoping to convince him to look away and give her the window to draw a knife from her bag and slip it between ribs and into his heart.

Victor said, ‘If he’s tall and slim. About thirty. Balding. And wearing a black suit, then yes.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Blue suit.’

Victor’s back straightened. ‘That’s him. But if he is interested in me he’s nothing more than a watcher. I’ve already crossed paths with some of his teammates. He won’t get in the way of our business. In fact, he might even offer to help me.’

‘He’s no watcher. He’s a hitter.’

‘That makes no sense. What does he want?’

‘What do you think? He doesn’t like me very much. Well, the people he works for don’t. I’m not very popular.’

‘Then he and I are on the same side,’ Victor said.

‘That’s where you couldn’t be more wrong,’ she replied. ‘He’s after me, not you. But now we’re together he’s after us both. Just by talking to you, I’m afraid I’ve marked you for death.’

Victor shrugged. ‘Perhaps, if you’re telling the truth. But even if that is the case, it’s two to one against him.’

She shook her head, but was smiling, acting as if she were lost in a happy memory. ‘He’s brought friends.’