Tracers

TWENTY-FOUR

‘Cheeky bugger,’ Harry growled, drawing a look of disapproval from an elderly lady who had just entered the cafe.

Rik was grinning in wry triumph. ‘He doesn’t want to hear what we found crawling about under the stone, does he? Probably because he already knows.’

‘If he does, he knows more than we do.’ In spite of all the evidence of bodies and documents, they were no further forward in their knowledge of Silverman’s true background. The guards’ passports were unlisted in any of the databases Rik had accessed, and the mobile number was a pay-as-you-go disposable with no address and no previous call record. Whatever real history the two dead men had possessed was now a closed book.

Harry got to his feet and nodded towards the building across the road. ‘Come on, Boy Wonder. You’ve got work to do.’

By the time they pushed through the glass doors in the Corpos building, he had banished all thoughts of Jennings from his mind. The foyer was peppered with posters of muscular men and women engaging happily with complicated equipment, and the decor was a mixture of fancy Greek tiles, thick carpets and tinkling fountains, with soft mood-music issuing from speakers. A corridor ran off to the left, with an arrow pointing to a studio, sauna, fitness rooms and administration. Unlike Park’s Gym, a subtle smell of air-freshener and soap hung in the air, along with the merest hint of perfume.

The receptionist looked up and gave them a flash of white teeth. ‘Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to Corpos.’

Harry nudged Rik forward and veered off to study a notice board.

‘Hello. . Mandy.’ Rik gave her his best boyish grin and eyed the name badge on her chest. She followed his eyes and almost blushed. ‘I wonder if you can help?’ His tone made it perfectly clear that she could, and even if she couldn’t, it would be fun finding out.

Harry wasn’t sure what Rik’s precise game plan was, nor did he need to hear the lurid details. Just as long as they got the information they needed: confirmation that Joanne Archer was a member and, if possible, her current address.

Mandy seemed to lose some of her anticipation as Rik spoke, her face taking on a look of concern. Moments later, she was clicking away down the corridor on high heels, her bottom twitching fetchingly under her white coat. They watched her go, heads tilted in admiration. If she’d had eyelashes painted on her rear, Harry decided, they’d both have been winked to death.

He had already checked for security cameras and found none. The moment Mandy was out of sight, he signalled for Rik to slip behind the desk to check the monitor. From a brief glance, it appeared to be a standard client registration screen with spaces for the insertion of personal details.

‘You didn’t promise her anything, did you?’ he said, as Rik typed Archer’s name into the query screen. The machine clicked and built into a frenzied hum. He hoped it was a fast program.

‘Why? You jealous?’ Rik flashed him a smug look.

‘Not really.’ Harry moved to give himself a view of both the main entrance and the corridor. ‘Just that Mandy looks the sort to expect seconds.’

‘I asked for the name and address of the company’s lawyers,’ Rik explained, tapping his fingers impatiently. ‘Said I’d slipped and fallen in the shower a couple of days ago, and needed details of her people so my people can contact their people.’ He smiled proudly at his inventiveness. ‘Places like this are terrified of lawsuits.’

‘But you’re not a member.’

‘They won’t know that,’ Rik pointed out, ‘until they check. And she didn’t ask. I’m hoping we don’t have to hang around long enough for it to get that far.’

They had discussed tactics earlier. They needed to gain access to the club’s customer records, and Rik had volunteered to handle this without disclosing the specifics. He’d made whatever he’d got in mind sound fiendishly cunning, but to Harry, this solution was like Indiana Jones flashing a silk handkerchief instead of his trademark bullwhip.

‘That’s it?’ he muttered, unimpressed. ‘You slipped in the shower? I thought you’d come up with something. . I don’t know. .’

‘What?’

‘Bold. Dazzling, even.’

The computer fan stopped. In its place they heard a familiar clicking of heels along the tiled corridor. Mandy was on her way back. But they could also hear the low murmur of a male voice and the sound of heavier footsteps. She was bringing reinforcements.

Rik was staring at the screen as if willing it to do something. Harry figured they had thirty seconds at most, probably less. He started forward, ready to intercept the receptionist and whoever she was bringing with her. If they got no luck here, they’d have to think of something else.

He glanced towards Rik just as the screen flickered and revealed a new template.

‘Got it. Go!’ Rik hissed, signalling for Harry to lead the way and hitting the back button to return it to its original place. They made it to the street just as Mandy turned the corner.

‘Archer’s got a place near here,’ Rik told him. ‘She’s obviously keeping up her fitness routine.’

Harry nodded. Old habits died hard. ‘You’ve got all that from one quick look?’ He was impressed.

‘Look at screens all day and it gets to be second nature.’

Back at the car they consulted an A-Z. The address was a short distance away, off Battersea Park Road.

Hughie had been right after all.

The address was a small flat above a letting agency, on a busy parade of shops. Access was by a flight of open metal stairs from a service yard at the rear.

They couldn’t tell if anyone was in, and the approach up the stairs was too open to risk going near. If Archer’s involvement with Silverman was anything less than innocent, two men showing up on her doorstep might be enough to set her running again. And next time they might not find her so easily.

Rik found a parking space a hundred yards away from the flat, giving them a clear view of the stairway. Harry left him on watch and walked a slow circuit of the block, picking up a feel for the area and the flow of people. The pavements were reasonably busy, but with only one way in, they stood a good chance of spotting Archer entering or leaving. If they missed her, with daylight dropping fast, any lights going on inside would make their task easier.

After two more circuits and with no evidence of Archer being at home, Harry rang Jennings and gave him the address. He did this with reluctance; their job wasn’t finished yet and he hated the idea of being cut out too early. Neither did he enjoy giving a blow-by-blow commentary of their activities.

‘There’s no sign of Archer,’ he informed the lawyer. ‘You want us to go in and check she’s there?’

‘No,’ said Jennings. ‘That’s not necessary. What’s the location like?’

‘Could be quieter.’ Harry described the layout. ‘It’s not going to improve until the shops shut. There are pedestrians all over.’

‘Leave it,’ Jennings told him. ‘Your part is over. Payment will be made as usual.’

It wasn’t the response Harry had expected. Your part is over? What was that supposed to mean? ‘Is there a problem?’ he queried. ‘We’re right here, we might as well stay on it until we eyeball her.’

‘It’s not necessary.’ Jennings sounded calm but firm. ‘Others will take over from you.’

Others?

‘Fine,’ said Harry. ‘You’re paying the bill.’ He switched off the phone. ‘Orders are to bug out. We’re done.’

Rik scowled. ‘We haven’t confirmed her presence yet.’

‘No need. He wants us out of here. We get paid anyway.’

Rik shrugged and started the car, heading north towards Battersea Bridge. Traffic was slow, and there was little to do but concentrate on the bumper in front of them and the occasional set of traffic lights; neither man spoke, both feeling a sense of anti-climax after the long trail they had followed.

As they reached Chelsea on the northern side of the river, Harry swore at length.

‘Turn round.’

‘What?’ Rik stared at him.

‘Go back. This is a mistake. It’s not finished.’

Rik smiled, sensing some action. ‘Now you’re talking.’ He made a fast U-turn, earning a volley of horns and flashing lights from other drivers, and stepped on the gas.

‘I don’t like leaving it like this,’ said Harry. ‘I want to see what this Joanne Archer looks like. You OK with this?’

‘Of course.’ Rik frowned. ‘We’re at a disadvantage, though, aren’t we, with all this shooting?’

Harry gave it some thought. He had placed a briefcase in the back of the car earlier, but without mentioning what it contained. And so far Rik hadn’t asked. ‘We don’t know if she’s armed, and there’s no sign she had anything to do with killing the two men at South Acres. Of course, if I’m wrong,’ he added with dark humour, ‘and she shoots you, I apologize in advance.’

‘Cheers. And Jennings? He’s going to be really fussed when he finds out we came back.’

‘We’ll let him complain to our union.’

It took half an hour to fight their way back through growing traffic to Archer’s flat. By the time they arrived, most of the surrounding shops were closing and pedestrian traffic had reduced dramatically. Harry paused long enough to delve in the briefcase, then followed Rik up the metal stairs. Once at the top they were in full view of a narrow window alongside the door. There was still no sign of a light.

Harry moved ahead and reached for the door. Before he could knock, however, it swung open of its own accord.