Ugley Business (8 page)

“He doesn’t speak a word of it,” Harvey said. “I asked him if he was into sado-masochistic sex with foreign lesbians in the basements of Bavarian castles.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Well, maybe he is.”

We looked at Petr, huddled there looking afraid.

“Maybe not. Okay, ask him why he was following me.”

“Orders.”

“What orders?”

Harvey frowned as he listened to the reply. “To take you to his boss.”

“Who is…?”

I didn’t need a translation. “Dmitri Janulevic. Well, you were right. What does Janulevic want with me?”

Petr kept looking up at me like an abused puppy as he explained. Maybe he thought I’d be a soft touch.

Ha!

“Well?” I asked Harvey.

“Janulevic wanted you,” he said. “That’s pretty much all he’ll say.”

“Why?” I insisted.

Harvey repeated the question, but Petr shook his head.

“Is it to do with Angel?” I said, and Harvey said, “Who’s Angel?”

“The blonde. Lakeside?”

His eyes lit up. “Her name is Angel?”

“Yup. Ask him.”

He did, and Petr looked confused. “IC Winter?” I asked. “Greg Winter?”

Petr shook his head, but he did it a fraction too late. I grabbed Harvey’s arm. “It’s about Angel.”

“What? How come? What’s going on?”

I shook my head, glancing at Petr. “I still don’t trust that he’s not listening in. Come on. We can come back later if we think of anything else.”

“We?”

“Your case, my case. Is this coincidence or are you following me?”

“Coincidence,” Harvey said, but I wasn’t sure I believed him.

Back in the car, I let him pull off his blindfold after a couple of miles. “You really don’t want me to know where that was, do you?”

“Can’t take any chances,” I said. “Sorry.” Was I like a real secret agent, or what?

Don’t answer that.

“Well, yeah, I guess.” Harvey looked out of the window. “Isn’t that the school where we caught those guys a couple months ago?”

“We? You disappeared and I had to do it all by myself.”

“I went for back-up.”

“I nearly got killed.”

“Hey, we got there in time. Calm down.”

I rolled my eyes at him through the rear-view. “I’m calm. I’m just saying.”

“Me too. If you hadn’t gone off without your partner—”

“He’s
not
my partner,” I said, perhaps a little more violently than I needed to.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “From what your friend said at Lakeside—”

“Well, she was wrong. It was wrong. He’s not my partner. He’s just my colleague. End of.”

Harvey had the good sense to keep quiet.

We went back to my house. It was still the middle of the night and, despite my daytime nap, I was knackered. All I wanted to do was go to bed.

“Nice place,” Harvey said, looking around my habitat. It was a tip, but then it always was. I was never into the tidy thing. Don’t see the point. I have a good memory for where things are. Usually they’re just under some other things. “You live here by yourself?”

Loaded question.

“No, I share with Tammy.”

He looked surprised. “And who’s Tammy?”

“My flatmate.”

Harvey looked around. Open-plan living room, bedroom, bathroom. One double bed.

“Erm…”

I grinned. “She’s a cat. Very small. Hardly takes up any space.”

He looked relieved. “For a second there I thought—but then the thing with Luke…”

“There is no thing with Luke.”

Harvey bit his lip. “There was on Sunday.”

“No,” I kicked off my trainers, “apparently there wasn’t. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go to bed.” I grabbed my sleeping bag from under the bed and dumped it on the sofa for him. “Have a nice night.”

“Sophie, wait.”

I turned, but I didn’t want to. The Luke thing had upset me more than I’d bargained for. I needed to go somewhere quiet and bawl into my pillow.

“I’m sorry if I upset you. I thought you and Luke were an item.”

“Yes, well, so did I. Apparently I was mistaken. But the mistake has been cleared up.”

“So…you’re not together?”

I don’t think we ever were. “No.”

“And this is a recent thing?”

I looked at the clock. “About six hours.”

“Ah. Okay. Sorry I brought it up.” He yawned. “That girl—Angel?”

“Yes?”

“She single?”

I smiled. How cute would that be? “As far as I know.”

“Excellent. You can tell me all about her in the morning.”

Morning came all too quickly, and I’d forgotten there was anyone else in the flat until I pounced on Harvey in the kitchen. He looked surprised, then he took my SIG and weighed it in his hands.

“Nice piece. You always greet guests like this?”

“Only when I forget about them.”

The thought crossed my mind that he was probably thinking this was exactly why Luke and I had broken up. Which was ironic, because Luke got turned on by me with my gun. He said it was the ultimate danger.

Come to think of it, that’s not much of a compliment.

I made a lot of strong coffee and drank most of it myself. Harvey seemed surprised that I was drinking instant, not filter, but I suppose that’s Americans for you. He went for orange juice. Purist.

“So what’s your plan for today?” he asked. “Apart from telling me all about Angel.” He looked off into the distance—or at least, an imaginary distance, the wall being about four feet away.

“Ah, yes, Angel.”

“What does she have to do with Janulevic?”

I shrugged. “Beats me.” I had another agenda. “What do
you
have to do with Janulevic?”

Harvey drained his orange juice. He looked good in the morning, his shiny hair all tousled, a little bit of stubble humanising the total perfection of his
American Idol
face. He’d been wearing only boxers when I happened upon him nosing through my kitchen cupboards, but he’d quickly got dressed again in his black jeans and T-shirt. I was beginning to realise that people like us (doesn’t that sound
cool
?) had a lot of black in their wardrobes. This suited me fine, because black is very slimming and it goes with everything. Except summer.

“Janulevic is after something,” Harvey said. “He’s an Indiana Jones without the coolness. We don’t know what it is, only that he’s talked to a lot of ancient historians about it. Archaeologists. Antiques men. Museums—he’s broken into a few.”

“Anything taken?”

“Archives. Records. He’s looking for something specific, but we still can’t tell what. He’s taken records of ancient Chinese, Egyptian, and Romany artefacts.”

“Then how do you know it’s something specific?”

“Because he’s come across plenty of Chinese, Egyptian and Romany artefacts and left them all alone. Not even touched them.”

“You’ve talked to the people he’s talked to?”

Harvey made a face. “Slight problem there.”

I knew what it was. “They’re all dead?”

“Every last one. And the few we thought we might pre-empt are denying all knowledge of anything ancient at all.”

I folded my arms. “I don’t get it. Why is the CIA interested in him?”

“A tip-off. Head of Ancient History at Michigan told us there was something coming. He said it was like a plague—like Tutankhamun’s curse. Professors dropping dead all over the globe. But we smelled a rat—or more to the point, my boss, who is a buddy of the aforementioned professor, did. Not to mention that if this thing is real… Well, we don’t want it in the wrong hands.”

I wondered privately who got to decide whose hands were the right ones, but kept my mouth shut. “The Michigan professor?”

“He’s under protection—they all are. Oxford and Cambridge too. We spoke to the people at the British Museum—told them not to speak to anyone. But one girl said a few rumours had reached her. She heard a whisper about some Mongol artefact called the Xe La. But no one knows what it is. Just some reference in a book—”

“Which has now disappeared?”

“Right. And the only people who could have told us about it…”

“Are dead.”

“You’re smart.”

“One of my many good qualities.” I yawned. “I’m going to go and have a shower.” I needed to think about this.

“No,” Harvey said, “you’re going to play fair and tell me what you know. Why did you think this involved Angel? What does she have to do with the Xe La?”

I raised my palms. “I have no idea.”

“Greg and IC Winter? They’re both dead.”

“Yep.”

“You think they knew about the Xe La?”

Ding. I nearly looked up to see if there was, indeed, a light bulb over my head.

“I can ask.”

Harvey looked confused. “You’re a psychic?”

Ooh, wouldn’t that be fun. But he’d never believe me. “No, but I know someone who used to know Greg and IC.”

“Who?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m clean,” I said, and handed him my coffee cup.

So,
I said to myself in the shower,
Janulevic is probably after the Xe La. Petr is working for Janulevic. Janulevic sent Petr to get me. Why me? Because I’m a friend of Angel’s.

I hoped it was just because I was her friend. Not because I was her protector. Not because of SO17. Else we were in big trouble.

Why was he after Angel? Because of who her parents were? Because they knew something about the Xe La?

Was that why Greg was killed?

I got out of the shower and dried off thoughtfully, grateful there was no one watching me this time. I needed to see the files on Greg and IC. Maybe if I knew what Greg was working on when he died then I might get another jigsaw piece.

I picked up my Nokia and called Karen Hanson.

“I have a question,” I said. “How secret is SO17?”

“You cannot tell your boyfriend.”

Clearly she hadn’t been paying full attention. “Good, because I don’t have one. How about CIA?”

“Keep talking.”

I told her about Harvey and Janulevic, and she said she’d been down to see Petr this morning. She spoke a few words of Russian but hadn’t understood anything he’d babbled. It was amazing how incoherent people became when they were chained up in a lab. Probably we should think of a new way of detaining people, but there were other things to be done first.

“We can deal with this,” Karen said when I’d finished. “We can trade off. Work together. He sounds like he might have something for us.”

“Doesn’t a trade involve giving him something too?”

“We’ll work something out. There must be something.”

Angel,
I thought, but said nothing. I hung up and got dressed and went out to see Harvey.

“So, do you have a home to go to?” I asked.

“I have a hotel.”

“The Hilton?”

“A B&B in the village. You know, I’d like to get my car back.”

“Can do. And after that, I have some people for you to meet.”

We picked up his car, a dark blue rented Mondeo, and he followed me up to the office. “I know this,” he said when we got out. “This is where you tried to catch that guy…”

How does the CIA get anything done when its operatives call everyone “that guy”?

“This is our office,” I said. “We came here yesterday.”

He didn’t look impressed. “It looks kinda normal.”

“That’s the idea.” I swiped us in and we went through to Hanson’s office. She smiled when she saw us.

“Karen Hanson, SO17,” I said, “James Harvard, CIA.”

Harvey held out his hand. “Ma’am.”

Suck-up.

“First of all, Four,” Hanson said, “tell me about our guest downstairs?”

“He’s working for Janulevic.”

“Good for him. Who’s Janulevic?”

Harvey and I explained about the dead professors and the Xe La. “Have you heard of it?” I asked. Probably she had a degree in Ancient Chinese or something. But she shook her head.

“I’d heard about the missing professors. Ten so far, and five leading archaeologists. Speculation is rife. The tabloid press is calling it an ancient curse, which is absurd as they were all involved in very different fields.”

“The most credible theory is some sort of vendetta,” Harvey said, and suddenly I remembered the newspaper headline in the Lakeside toilets.

“Revenge of the uneducated,” I said, and a voice from behind me said, “You’re not that uneducated.”

I felt the air in the room thicken and chill rapidly. So SO17 wouldn’t have to invest in air-conditioning; just get me, Luke and Harvey in a room together.

“Harvard,” Luke said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I see you all know each other,” Karen said.

“We’ve met,” Harvey said shortly. He and Luke had locked eyes and I was very glad I wasn’t standing between them. “Joint initiative,” he said. “I have some information that could be useful to you. And I think there’s something you could tell me, too.”

“Lots of things. Like, you spell ‘kidnapped’ with two Ps,” Luke said.

“Depends on how cheap your dictionary is,” Harvey replied, and I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll shoot the first one of you to mention Dr. Johnson,” I said, and they both stared at me. “Samuel Johnson? The lexicographer? Wrote the first dictionary?”

“I’m impressed,” Harvey said.

“You know the word ‘lexicographer’?” Luke said, and I scowled at him.

“Don’t we have work to do?” I said.

“You know those words too,” Luke murmured, still sounding amazed, and I nearly hit him.

Karen Hanson was smiling. “We do indeed have work. Why do you think Janulevic is involved with the Winters?”

“Because he sent Petr to kidnap me,” I said, daring Luke to make a comment about the spelling. “And when I asked if it had to do with Angel or her parents, he— Well, he said no, but I’m pretty sure he was lying.”

“Angel’s parents—wait, Angel’s parents are IC and Greg Winter?” Harvey said, his hazel eyes nearly rolling out of his head.

“He’s smart,” Luke said, and I wondered if he’d always been this sarcastic, or if it was me bringing it out in him.

“Smarter than you,” I said. “Yes, Harvey. That’s what I was going to tell you. That’s the connection.”

“You know, there was always a rumour at the Agency that IC was a secret agent for the British government,” Harvey said, smiling, apparently trying to break the tension.

“No rumour,” I said, and for the second time in a minute Harvey’s eyes nearly popped out. “IC and Greg were both agents.”

“Recently we discovered that Greg’s death was not the accident it seemed,” Karen said. “It appears he was murdered.”

“And no one knew until now? He died fifteen years ago!”

“The files were sealed,” I said. “We had to do a lot of begging to get access. Well, Maria did.”

“Who’s Maria?”

“Another agent. You’d like her.”

Karen Hanson was frowning. “I’m still not sure what any of this has to do with anything. I don’t understand how this artefact and the Winters are connected.”

“Angel’s stalker said she had something he wanted,” I said. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe he thinks she has this Xe La thing.”

Eyes met all around the room and we all piled into Karen’s Saab and rushed to Angel’s chapel. I found myself sitting in the back with Luke. The air was thick here too, but not so cold. It was like the air before a summer storm—hot, heavy, charged and crackling.

I kept my eyes on the door trim and my legs turned away from him, but I was aware of him with every cell I had.

“This is awesome,” Harvey said as we pulled up at the church. I winced, knowing Luke would be sending Harvey a scathing look. “She lives in a church?”

“IC bought it a couple of years before she died and had it renovated,” I said. “Angel inherited it when she was eighteen.” I got out of the car, grateful to be away from Luke because I could hardly breathe when he was so close, but as Harvey and Karen went up to the church doors, Luke dashed round the car and grabbed my arm.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“No, I don’t think we do.” I wrenched my arm away from him, glaring at the finger marks.

“What the hell is Harvard doing here?”

I relaxed a little. “I ran into him last night. He was after Petr.”

“Who?”

“In the cells. The Russian.”

“Thought he was Czech?”

“No.”

“I wish you’d said something, Sophie, I speak Russian.”

Of course he did.

“Well, you won’t get anything out of him. Harvey speaks Russian too. All he’d say was that this Janulevic guy sent him to get me. He wouldn’t say why.”

“Did it occur to you that Harvard could be in league with him?”

“You said that last time, and Harvey ended up saving my life—”

“Hey, I had a hand in that too—”

“Only because he went to get you.”

“Because he couldn’t handle it on his own. Because,” Luke took a step closer, so we were nearly touching, “he knew you needed me.”

God, it was tempting. He was so close, and I knew just how good he’d feel. My eyes flickered over to Docherty’s Vanquish and closed in memory. Luke skimmed his hands up my bare arms, a millimetre from the skin, and his lips brushed mine.

“Stop it,” I whispered, floundering for self-control.

“Come on, Soph, this is stupid,” Luke said, running a finger up my jawline, making me shiver.

“You’re right,” I stepped back, away from temptation. “It’s really stupid. Over means over, Luke. Don’t make me get my gun out.”

His eyes darkened sexily, and I took another step back.

“If I scream, Harvey will come running,” I said. “And if he sees you attacking me, he’ll shoot you.”

Luke looked appalled. “I wasn’t going to attack you. Jesus, Sophie, did you think—?”

“I don’t know,” I stamped my foot, frustrated. “Just—just stop it. We have work to do.”

“Just work?” Luke said.

“Yes, just work. Forget everything else. It was fun,” I said firmly, “but this is more important.”

I strode over to the door, feeling very assertive, and knocked, feeling Luke standing there on the gravel, ten feet behind me. He radiated heat and I pulsed, hot and helpless, praying Angel would open the door before my resolve broke and I ripped all my clothes off and threw myself at Luke’s feet.

The hidden camera in the gargoyle flashed and the door opened and Docherty stood there, looking mysterious, running his gaze over me. My cheeks were flaming and my breath was coming fast.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I lied transparently.

“Luke’s not been harassing you?”

Yes, and I want him to carry on harassing me. “No. We just needed to talk about something.”

Since talking was all we’d had time for, Docherty accepted this for the semi-truth it was and opened the door to let me in. Luke followed silently, precisely three and a half feet behind me. I felt his proximity like I had parking sensors. Hot man at five o’clock.