Private Dublin

Chapter 43

I left Stephen’s Green Shopping Centre, but rather than going the direct route to the square, I headed north along Dawson Street, following the tram route past upscale bars and cafes until I reached Nassau Street and the grand grounds and campus of Trinity College. I went south along Kildare Street, past the historic terraces flanking the stone-built National Gallery. The whole area was a favorite with tourists and the crowds gave me plenty of opportunity to double back on myself, pause to look at the reflections in store windows and generally make sure there were no lingering cameras pointed my way or people following me. I hopped on a bus and took it a couple of stops before walking back. I went into a commercial art gallery at the end of Kildare Street and pretended to admire the contemporary paintings, while checking the sky outside for drones. When I was satisfied I was clear from pursuers, I resumed my journey heading south and then east to Fitzwilliam Square.

I’d taken so long that Andi was already there by the time I arrived, and she looked genuinely relieved to see me.

“God, Jack, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, giving me the once-over.

I knew I must look disheveled. My jeans and jacket had picked up marks and tears in the scuffles, and my face and hair were in a mess.

“I just need a shower and a change of clothes,” I replied.

Before I went upstairs, I used my laptop to send Mo-bot a message on Private’s secure server. I gave her the address of the warehouse I’d escaped from and asked her to find out who owned it and whether they had any links to Propaganda Tre.

Exhausted and feeling the heaviness of adrenalin leaving my system, I climbed the stairs to my room, showered, shaved and put on a fresh shirt and a fitted navy blue suit.

I returned to the kitchen and found Andi talking to Mo-bot on my laptop.

“Maureen called,” Andi said. “I thought I’d better answer in the circumstances. I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course,” I replied, pulling up a chair and taking a seat beside her to join the video call.

“How are you feeling?” Mo-bot asked.

“Okay,” I said. “Pride is a little wounded, but my body is fine.”

“Does Justine know what happened?” Mo-bot asked. I saw she was in the tech room at our LA office. “Sci is with her at the hospital, but I’ll be on my way over at sun-up.”

“I haven’t told her,” I replied. “I don’t want to worry her. She should be focused on getting better.”

Mo-bot nodded. “I understand. I don’t like keeping things from her, but in this case, I get it.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I ran a background check on Lawrence Finch. Nothing untoward. A few rumors about bribes being paid to planning departments early in his career — but show me a property developer who hasn’t had allegations like that made against him. He has no obvious ties to Propaganda Tre or Raymond Chalmont, but we’ve been here before. Our checks on Philippe Duval also came back clear.”

Mo-bot was referring to the former Interior Minister of Monaco, who had been part of Propaganda Tre and had been instrumental in luring Justine and me into a trap.

“I’ll proceed with caution,” I said.

“Wise,” Mo-bot responded. “I pulled the property records for the warehouse. It’s owned by Longshore Holdings, a shell company that has three other warehouses in Dublin. Ultimate ownership is obscure because there’s a chain of corporations that leads offshore into some questionable jurisdictions.”

“Can you look for anything that links Longshore Holdings to Raymond Chalmont?” I asked.

“Sure,” Mo-bot said.

“And, Mo, I’d like you to move Justine to a new location. Find another hospital,” I told her. She frowned before me on the screen. “Raymond Chalmont told me he would come for everyone who matters to me. You and Sci know how to take the proper precautions, but Jus is vulnerable.”

Mo-bot nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Tell no one where she goes,” I said. “Not even me. That way I can’t give her up if they get hold of me again.”

“Okay,” Mo-bot replied. “Try not to let that happen.”

“I’ll do my best,” I assured her, and ended the call.

“Should I be afraid?” Andi asked me.

I looked at her somberly. “Raymond Chalmont and his associates kill without hesitation, and they have Private in their sights. We all need to be extremely careful.”