Thieves Like Us 01 - Thieves Like Us (25 page)

‘His contacts book,’ said Tye quietly. ‘That’s normally top secret. He never leaves it open.’

‘Probably had no choice,’ said Patch. ‘He must have been using it when they got in.’

‘If he had time to write this note, he had time to shut down the address book.’ Jonah was already clicking to entry 110.

It was headed simply, ‘Her’. An address in Rome was listed.

‘Samraj,’ Tye muttered. Her hand brushed softly against the back of Jonah’s neck as she selfconsciously squeezed his shoulder. ‘Jonah, I’m glad we found you.’

So am I
, he wanted to say.

‘But what are we gonna find when we get down there?’ said Patch worriedly. ‘Look at these notes!’

‘Main gate, alarm code override …’ Jonah read aloud. ‘Study: photoelectric beam at knee height trips steel shutters. Kitchen: foiled windows, magnetic switch on outer door trips main alarm. Fingerprint scanners in use throughout villa …’ He looked up at Tye, forced a worried smile. ‘Thorough, isn’t he?’

But Tye wasn’t looking. She had picked up the handkerchief. She’d spied something there and was squinting to see. Jonah took a look himself and found a small filmy square, glistening beneath the fluorescent lights.

‘Oh yeah,’ she said, a slow grin spreading over her face. ‘He’s thorough, all right.’

Motti waited in the grip of Yianna’s bodyguards as the lady herself shuffled slowly forward to open the door. Constantly stopping and starting to let her catch up, it had taken for ever to climb the stairs and reach this little landing in the east wing. At least it had given him time to swallow back his tears. No way would these bastards ever know he was hurting.

‘You don’t look so good, girl,’ he observed. ‘Does she, Con?’

Con didn’t respond, still lost in her daze. So much for the healing draught.

‘I am sick,’ Yianna said quietly. ‘Sick and tired.’

‘You ain’t the only one,’ Motti assured her. ‘Looks like your new mommy is coming on kinda strong to my boss. That don’t worry you?’

‘You cannot provoke me.’

‘I mean, three’s a crowd and all. Samraj has got what she wanted from you – and frankly it don’t seem like much to me.’

‘I trust her.’

‘Yeah, well, I trusted Coldhardt,’ said Motti bitterly. ‘And look where it’s got me.’

‘
She
trusts
me
, too,’ said Yianna, finally dragging herself as far as the door and pressing her index finger against the scanner to open it. ‘You see? I have the run of this place.’

‘Run? More like the zombie shuffle.’

She slapped him round the face, her sunken eyes shining. ‘She is going to make me well.’

‘What, by sending you all the way over here, just so you can walk back again?’ He shook his head. ‘She’s playing with you, girl.’

‘You wouldn’t understand. She cares for me as much as she hates my father.’ She smiled. ‘My disappearance has already started picking at the stitches that hold him together. Together we will watch my father grow old and bitter and die while we remain unchanging …
perfect
.’

‘Yeah, right, happy ever after,’ sneered Motti. ‘This ain’t the movies.’

‘Maybe not,’ she said, caressing the stiletto hilt that protruded from her bodyguard’s belt. ‘But remember … I still say when we
cut
.’

One gesture, and Motti was shoved viciously into the room. Con was bundled through after him. He tried to break her fall but together they both toppled and hit the floor.

‘That’s a wrap,’ he sighed, as the door swung back shut. He flicked on the light switch and glanced around. The room was empty save for a heavy wooden wardrobe and a double bed. The window was sealed, security glass, unbreakable.

Gently, he lay Con on top of the hard mattress. ‘You OK?’ he asked her, just on the off chance.

No reply. She just lay there on her side.

‘You know, if Patch was here he’d be looking down your top and stuff. Dirty little bastard.’ Motti lay on the bed beside her, stared up at the ceiling and sighed. ‘God, I hope him and Tye are OK.’ He paused, glanced at her. ‘But if you ever wake up and tell them you heard that, you’re gonna be back in a coma for the rest of your life. Got it?’

His mind raced in the silence. Too many questions, and only painful answers. He was hurting – not just his bruised throat but all over.

He imagined Yianna’s bodyguards waiting just outside. Waiting for the order to come in and kill them.

Motti took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. ‘Con, I swear I ain’t no perv or nothing,’ he whispered. ‘And I don’t mean to freak you. But God help me, I’m scared to death here. So if you can hear me, somehow … could you maybe pretend I’m someone you like?’

He shuffled up on his side and spooned her, reaching over and fumbling for her hand. Once he’d found it, he held on tight.

It was probably his imagination, but he thought he felt just the tiniest squeeze back on his sweaty fingers.

* * *

Motti was woken by a sharp cracking noise outside, a bang on the wall. He rolled away from Con, reached for his glasses, jumped off the bed, suddenly awake and wired like he’d had a dozen espressos. It was daylight outside. How long had he been sleeping? He checked his watch but it was bust.

‘Con, wake up,’ he hissed. ‘You gotta wake up. I think this is it.’

He looked around but there was nothing he could use for a weapon. In desperation he tugged at his leather belt with the heavy clasp. He could maybe use it as –

The door swung suddenly open. Motti yanked out the belt and wielded it fiercely.

‘What’re you gonna do, doofus? Drop your trousers and hope Samraj dies laughing?’

‘
Patch?
’ Motti stared in disbelief at the small, battered figure grinning in the doorway. And standing just behind him was – ‘Tye! I gotta be dreaming!’ He grabbed and gathered them both up in a clumsy hug. ‘C’mon. You gotta help me with Con.’

‘Is she OK?’ Patch pulled away to see. ‘Con?’

‘She’s been out for hours,’ said Motti. ‘Flipped out in the back of the car. They gave her this weird drink but I dunno if it –’

‘Look out!’ Tye shouted as one of Samraj’s bruisers sprang up from nowhere and grabbed her round the neck. Patch bundled back through the door to help her.

Motti was quick to follow, but another thug kicked him in the chest, sent him staggering back inside the room. He swung the belt, but it was caught and
snatched from his grasp. He heard a cry of pain from Tye, couldn’t help but turn to look. A fist slammed out towards his face; he parried with his wrist but the impact still floored him. He landed on his back at the foot of the wardrobe.

‘Get underneath it,’ hissed a voice from behind him.

‘
Con?
’

She wasn’t on the bed any more.

‘Do it!’

The heavy wardrobe was raised on four elegantly carved legs. Motti used his own two skinny ones to push himself backwards, wriggling into the dark space beneath the wood. He heard his attacker start forwards to grab him –

And flinched as unexpected daylight dazzled his eyes. The wardrobe was toppling forwards, ready to fall. But before the great weight could crash down on his legs he felt someone dragging him backwards and up.

The bruiser was not so lucky. He screamed as the wardrobe smashed to the floor, pinning him there.

Motti meanwhile found himself in Con’s arms. He straightened his glasses. ‘You came back to us.’

‘I slept on it,’ she agreed. ‘And I have decided I’m angry as hell.’ She stuck out her tongue. ‘What have I been drinking?’

‘You don’t wanna know,’ said Motti, vaulting the wardrobe and crossing to the corridor. ‘But I’m glad you’re mad, ’cause something tells me we ain’t getting out of here without a fight.’ Tye and Patch were climbing to their feet. ‘You two OK?’

‘We got this one.’ Tye nodded to the jerk in black
on the floor behind her. ‘But the other guy went running for reinforcements.’

‘He didn’t get too far.’

Motti stared at yet another familiar face. ‘You came back.’

Jonah had come round the corner of the corridor, shaking a set of skinned knuckles. ‘I know I’ve missed some training – but how d’you guys hit people without breaking your fingers?’

‘Family secret,’ said Motti, shaking Jonah hard by his bruised hand, making him wince. ‘Remind me to tell it to you sometime, man.’

Con joined them in the corridor, smiling at Jonah in a way that made Patch look down at his shoes.

‘You’re OK?’ Tye asked.

Con shook her head. ‘Things are about the worst they could be.’

‘Where’s Coldhardt?’

‘That’s what I mean. He’s sold us out.’

Patch looked back up sharply. ‘He what?’

Motti stared at her, a blush starting to colour his cheeks. ‘Then … you heard all that stuff?’

‘It was like I was a million miles away. So far that nothing could touch me, yes?’ She shrugged softly. ‘But now I remember everything.’

‘Excuse me – what does a person have to do to get rescued around here?’

They all turned as one.

It was Coldhardt. His dapper suit was scuffed and a little crumpled, and the welt on his head was angry and red. But the Irish swagger in the voice, the stance and the smile were those of a man on top of his game.

‘Hello, Jonah,’ he said coolly. ‘I imagine it was you who cracked my cryptic little note. Welcome back to the fold.’

‘You don’t seem surprised to see me.’

‘I told you before. I pride myself on my instincts in these matters.’ He smiled round at his children. ‘In the same way, I predicted Con would be unwilling or unable to fully remove your memories.’

‘Unwilling,’ she retorted at once.

‘And under the circumstances, Jonah, I decided it could do no harm for you to leave the fold for a time.’

Jonah frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘No one escapes me that easily.’ He beamed suddenly. ‘Tye, Patch, congratulations on making it this far.’

‘Wasn’t so hard considering what you’d left behind to help us,’ said Tye coldly.

‘Guys, this could be a trap,’ said Motti, bunching his fists. ‘Samraj wanted all of us together. And she needs Jonah.’

‘She sought to influence me through you,’ said Coldhardt. ‘She now realises that isn’t possible.’

‘’Cause you don’t care for no one but yourself,’ Motti hissed.

Coldhardt stared him down. ‘I got bored waiting for you two to free yourselves. So I thought I’d better come get you.’

‘So you can hand us all over to your bitch girlfriend?’

‘Who at this very moment is trussed up in her bedroom with her own silk sheets.’ He shrugged. ‘I tried to keep her occupied for as long as I could to buy you time …’

Con’s eyes had narrowed. ‘Yeah, I’ll bet you did.’

‘And what’s all this, “as long as I could” garbage?’ Motti challenged. ‘I thought you had all eternity ahead of you if you stuck with her and sold out Jonah.’

Jonah looked alarmed. ‘What
is
this?’

‘She needs you to crack the lekythos cipher,’ said Con. ‘She’s got all the fragments.’

‘And now
I
have a copy of the complete cipher myself.’ Coldhardt grandly patted a pocket of his suit. ‘The fruits of my final seduction.’

Motti sneered. ‘You expect us to believe that?’

‘So, you no longer trust me.’ Coldhardt clicked his tongue. ‘Not even you, Tye?’

She didn’t answer.

‘Well, rest assured that the occupants of this house will kill me for escaping as readily as they’ll kill you.’

‘We should just get out of here,’ said Patch, wringing his hands.

‘I’m telling you, it’s a trap!’ Motti argued. ‘Tye, what you getting off him?’

Tye bit her lip. ‘I
think
he’s on the level, but I –’

Then suddenly there was a dark blur of movement at the turn of the corridor as two of Samraj’s henchmen attacked. Coldhardt whirled round, jabbed one in the sternum while bringing his fist up under the jaw of the other. One fell straight to the floor, the other bounced off a wall first. Neither got back up.

For an old guy, Coldhardt still had moves.

‘That was no faked demonstration,’ he said gruffly. ‘I find close-quarters combat so undignified at my age. If anyone wants to debate this subject further, they can
wait until we’ve got the hell away from here. Tye – you still have the key?’

She raised her hand and gave him the finger. Then she turned it round and wriggled it at him. ‘Samraj’s fingerprint? Yeah, I’ve still got it.’

‘How?’ asked Con.

‘When he kissed her fingers at the Gallery Rimbaud,’ Tye explained. ‘He slipped a little square of acetate on his lips first.’

‘So while she was scanning your retina you were lifting her prints?’ Motti smiled despite himself. ‘Jeez, you two really are a match made in heaven.’

‘We know a little of each other’s security arrangements,’ said Coldhardt dismissively. ‘That’s more intimacy than I usually care for. Come on, this way.’

He stepped over the fallen bodies and vanished from view down the corridor. Tye, Patch and Jonah exchanged brief glances, then followed.

Motti looked at Con. She started to set off after them when he took hold of her arm. ‘So …’ he said awkwardly. ‘You remember everything?’

‘Yes.’ She gave him a fleeting smile, the closest he’d ever seen her come to self-conscious. ‘And I like you plenty.’

He blushed. ‘Yeah, well …Tell anyone about what happened in there and I’ll break your arm, got it?’

‘Got it.’

They hurried after the others.

Jonah knew they’d been lucky, and that they had Coldhardt to thank. With Samraj all tied up and unable to dish out the orders, their opposition wasn’t
focused. Two more bodyguards were standing guard at the top of the main staircase, with three more in the hallway below. Tye and Motti tackled one while Con laid into another. With a yell and a graceful high kick she pushed her opponent clear over the banister rail. The noise of his impact on the marble floor echoed like cannon fire. As soon as the other man had been wrestled to the floor, Patch moved in and punched him hard in the back of the neck, knocking him unconscious.

Jonah led them in a stampede down the stairs. ‘Hallway looks clear,’ he reported. He tried the front door. ‘Tye, we need your magic finger.’