Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

“Oh, must I?” She smiled faintly. “And are you going to tell me everything about yourself?”

She looked at her in surprise. “No, I did you no injury. You owe me. I do not owe you.”

“You have a point.” She was discovering that Lina had an almost childlike clarity of vision that was both innocent and brutal in scope. It was a strange facet of character in a woman who had gone through the hell she had experienced. “Very well, I have fifteen minutes before Jock and Caleb should be here. I hope that I’m not shallow enough to bare my entire soul in that time, but I can give you the broad strokes.” She went into the kitchenette. “I’ve just put on a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Not now. Talk to me.”

Jane looked over her shoulder. “In a minute. I need the caffeine even if you don’t.”

“But I want you to-” She stopped. “I’m antagonizing you by being too demanding. It is a habit of mine. I will try to curb it.”

Jane smiled. “And I will try to hurry through my cup of coffee. That’s what compromise is about.”

“I’m not good at that either.”

“I’ve been known to have a few problems with it, too. We’ll work on it together.”

“OKAY, MILLET. SIMPSON’S ZEROED in on the BMW,” Roland said. “And it’s stationary at the moment. They’re sitting ducks. I’m sending you the coordinates on your phone.”

“How close?”

“In the general area where you are. I went to a great deal of trouble convincing Simpson to do this. I’m going to owe him, and that pisses me off. You’d better make it worth my while. Don’t bungle it.”

“Don’t threaten me. Simpson should be doing this for the glory of the Offering. So should you, Roland.”

“How pure. May I remind you that you’re the one who lost the tablet because you couldn’t keep your hands off Adah Ziller?”

“I’m the Guardian. It is my privilege to take any woman I wish in any way I wish. Just as it is my privilege to cut her heart out if she betrayed me.”

“Then you should have done it in a way that didn’t get in the way of our arrangement. Get the tablet and Jane MacGuire.”

Millet glanced at his phone screen and he forget anger as satisfaction surged through him as he saw the blip. “I’m on my way.”

JOCK’S BROWS ROSE AS HE gazed at Lina sitting relaxed at Jane’s small table. “I wasn’t sure that you’d be here. I was prepared to have to chase you down.”

“You wouldn’t have found me. But I decided that it would be more efficient to have MiIlet come to me than go after him.” She glanced at Jane. “Or to come to Jane. From what she tells me, he will do a great deal to try to find her. That is good.”

“I don’t believe I’d describe it quite that way,” Jane said dryly.

She smiled faintly. “I’m very good at languages. Not so good at tactfulness.”

“We’ve found that out,” Jane said.

Jock looked from Jane to Lina. “I detect a slight lessening of abrasiveness between you. Or am I mistaken?”

“With knowledge comes understanding,” Jane said. “We had a talk. But knowledge only goes one way at the moment. So understanding is tentative at best.”

“And I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He paused. “Have you heard from Caleb?”

She stiffened. “No, he should be here any minute.”

“I knocked on his door, and there was no answer.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Maybe he was in the shower.”

Or maybe he was doing something that he didn’t want them to know about. It wouldn’t surprise Jane. Secretive bastard.

Or maybe something had happened to him.

The thought brought a rush of panic. She had been worried about everyone else, but Caleb always seemed to be invulnerable. Perhaps because she didn’t understand those psychic gifts that were such a disturbing part of him.

No one was invulnerable. Not with Millet on the loose.

There was a knock on the door before Caleb walked into the room. “Sorry I’m late. I had a few things to tidy up.”

She wanted to hit him. Of course, nothing had happened to him. And of course he wasn’t going to be explicit about those few things he had to “tidy.” “It doesn’t matter,” she said curtly. “We didn’t miss you.”

Caleb’s brows rose. “I’m crushed.” He went to the bar in the kitchenette and poured himself a cup of coffee. “But that will only make me work harder to please.”

Her displeasure had been obvious but had rolled off him like water off a duck. “You haven’t tried to please anyone but yourself lately.”

“That’s not true. I made a real effort to please you when I went after Weismann, but it didn’t work out.” He glanced at Lina. “And I had to balance keeping you alive or doing what you wanted, and I chose to keep you alive. Sorry.”

Lina said, “Screw you.”

“Then I’ll forget about offering apologies.” He paused. “Offering. That word brings to mind a few more current matters. Have you found out anything about Alan Roland from Venable, Gavin?”

“Wait a minute,” Jock turned to Lina. “Venable’s team arrived at your place thirty minutes ago. I’m sorry, there wasn’t anything left but ashes.”

Lina flinched. “I was expecting it.”

He glanced back at Caleb. “And there were some human remains in the toolshed. I guess Millet didn’t like Weismann any more than you did.”

“What about Roland?” Caleb asked again.

“Venable hasn’t had a chance to compile an in-depth dossier, but he gave me a brief sketch.” Jock said. “Alan Roland. Very important man. British. Mid-forties. Inherited wealth but he’s managed to triple it since he took control of the family fortune. Banking background. His father was reputed to be a mover and a shaker, and Alan has stepped into his shoes. In earlier centuries he would have been called a kingmaker. He has a passion for power and indulges it.”

“Any criminal record?” Jane asked.

Jock shook his head. “No record, not even a speeding ticket. And no obvious connection with Millet. He’s absolutely clean.”

“What about Syria? If he goes yearly to those Offerings at the temple, there has to be a record of it.”

“No, as a financier he’s out of London a good deal, but according to immigration, he’s never been to Syria.”

“I’d guess Roland may have a few passports, too,” Caleb said. “And handles those visits with great discretion.”

Jane frowned. “Very smart.”

“But you already knew that from Adah’s ledger,” Lina said. “He would have to be clever to be able to control Millet. From what you’ve told me, Millet is very volatile.”

Like a nuclear explosion, Jane thought.

“I don’t care about this Roland,” Lina said. “I want the man who burned my home to the ground. Tell me about Millet.”

“Well, I do care about Roland,” Jane said coldly. “Be quiet, Lina. Millet may have done the killings, but Roland is the one who pointed the way. No one is safe as long as Roland is out there. I won’t let them have any more of the people I care about. I want both of them. I’ll have both of them.”

Lina blinked. “Very well.” She didn’t speak for a moment. “You’re not what I thought. There were moments when I was feeling sorry for you. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about doing that any longer.”

“No, that’s not something for you to bother about,” Jane said. She didn’t know why that single-minded comment of Lina’s had caused her to suddenly explode, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. All the frustration and threat of the day had overflowed like a raging river over a dam. “Shall I tell you what we’re going to do? We’re going to find that temple where they kill children and anyone else who gets in their way. We’re going to stop them from ever doing that again. We’re going to find that pouch of Judas coins so that Roland won’t get his dirty hands on them. Then we’re going to trap Roland and Millet and send them straight to hell.” She got up, went to the closet, and pulled out the green garbage bag she’d stuffed at Lina’s cottage. “And right now I’d like you to concentrate on something besides what you’d like to do to Millet.” She pulled out Lina’s computer and tossed it on the bed. Then she took out the box containing the tablet and set it on top of the computer. “Earn your keep. We need to know exactly what’s in that tablet. Give me a translation.”