The Boudicca Parchments

Chapter 32

“Don’t you think that’s pushing it just a bit?”

“I need to speak to him.”

Daniel and Sarit had been at the safe house for twenty four hours now and Sarit was getting a bit tired of babysitting. But it was taking time for the bureaucrats to get things in motion, squaring it with their British counterparts about Daniel. They had the evidence of the phone messages but they weren’t sure if it was enough. And also they wanted to find out exactly what Shomrei Ha’ir were up to.

So Sarit and Daniel had killed time, playing chess — Daniel winning about two games in three — while waiting for the results of the image enhancement that was being done back in Israel. Daniel was finding it hard to stop fantasizing about Sarit, even though he knew that they both had to keep it professional. She would not take kindly to romantic overtures in this context and he knew it.

The age difference didn’t bother him, and he suspected that it wouldn’t bother her either. But when he had been in Israel the last time, he had picked up on the fact that she had a thing for Dovi and he knew that if it wasn’t for her field work and a probable rule against in-house relationships, the pair of them would probably be an item.

Just now, Daniel had told Sarit that he needed to phone his lawyer and he requested that she again route the call through Israel.

“Look there’s a big difference between talking to your lawyer and talking to a stranger.”

“I know,” said Daniel. “A stranger owes me nothing. My lawyer has a duty to act in my best interests. It’s covered by privilege.”

“Oh, are you a lawyer?”

“No, but everyone knows that lawyer’s have privilege.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Being an escaped prisoner could be construed as an ongoing criminal offence. He might be legally obliged to report it. Even if he can’t reveal your whereabouts, he might be obliged to reveal the fact that you made contact.”

“I won’t tell him my whereabouts. And as for the fact of making contact, I don’t care if they know that — just as long as they can’t trace us.”

Sarit could see that he wasn’t going to back down and — again — it was his call.”

“Okay.” She said.

Once again it took a few minutes to set up the call.

“Hi Peter, it’s Daniel — Daniel Klein.”

“Daniel! Where are you?”

“Never mind that. Listen, there’s something I want you to do for me.”

“What?”

“I want you to get the witness statements and the pathology report and — ”

“I’ve already got them.”

“Are they in digital form?”

“No, they’re on paper. Why?”

“Okay listen I’ll be very brief. I want you to scan them and eMail them to me. You’ve got my eMail address.”

“Okay I can do that. But you know they’re probably monitoring your eMail box and can track where you — ”

“Yes I know that but don’t worry. Let me worry about that.”

Daniel’s plan was to ask Sarit to get Dovi or some one at the Mossad to download it and then resend it to another eMail address that he would set up or to hers so that she could access it from here. But there was no reason to share this information with Hackett.

“Okay. I’ll get my secretary to do that right away. But I must tell you as your solicitor that what you did was extremely foolish and puts you in a lot more trouble.”

“You mean escaping?”

“Well obviously I mean escaping. Look this isn’t just a single killing any more. It’s now the murder of two guards as well — and injury to a third.”

“Look I had nothing to do with that. Those guys were trying to kill me!”

“I know that!”

Daniel’s suspicions were alerted.

“Know that? How?”

“The same way the police do. The third guard survived. He was badly injured but he survived. He told them that the man in black — the man with the gun — was apparently trying to kill you.”

“Then they know I’m innocent!”

“Of the killing of the guards yes. And they figured that it wasn’t a planned escape — or at least that you didn’t plan it. But I’ll tell you one thing. You’re lucky those were private guards. Because if they’d been coppers, they wouldn’t give a flying fig if you were in it or not! They’d be baying for blood. By the way, who was the guy on the motorbike?”

“The… motorbike?”

“The guard who survived told the police that when the man in black was about to shoot you, he was rammed by some one on a motorbike. And then you leapt on the motorbike and rode off into the sunset.”

“Did they get the number of the motorbike?”

“You trying to cover your arse maybe?”

“You could put it like that.”

Daniel wondered if Hackett was picturing the wry smile on his face.

“If they did, they didn’t tell me.”

“So for all they know, it could just have been a good Samaritan.”

Hackett chuckled.

“They might have thought that, if the third guard hadn’t survived or hadn’t been conscious and seen what happened. But then you’d be in the doghouse. Anyway, according to the guard, this guy on the bike had a gun and used it very effectively to take out two of the attackers. The police would have loved to interview them and find out who they were working for. But unfortunately, they’ve shuffled off this mortal coil, thanks to your friend with the revolver. Whoever that guy on the bike was, he’s a pro. Be careful.”

“I will.”

Sarit had explained that she used a revolver because it was less likely to jam and because it retained the cartridges from the bullets. It didn’t have a safety, but like every pro, she kept her hammer chamber empty.

“Are you still with him?” asked Hackett. “Or did he just drop you off somewhere?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Probably just as well. Saves me from being put on the spot.”

“Okay there’s one other thing. Can you ask the police — as discreetly as possible — if they searched Martin Costa’s house and if they found anything that looked like it might be an ancient manuscript on parchment of papyrus?”

“You mean like the one he sent you a picture of?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I’ll ask them. But I have a feeling that might alert them to the fact that you contacted me.”