Quintin Jardine - For The Death Of Me

Once we were settled in, I went out and bought a case of beer from a liquor store I’d seen on the way in. Back in the hotel I called the girls’ room; they’d showered by that time, so I went along. I opened a beer, handed it to Maddy and she guzzled it like she’d been dying of thirst. I gave her another; that went the same way. Half-way through the third, there was a knock at the door, and Prim let Dylan in. He’d brought some Miller’s; great minds and all that stuff.

‘Were you and Tony really married?’ I asked, when everyone was relaxed.

Maddy nodded. ‘We did it in Singapore. They can be a bit old-fashioned about living together over there. Plus, I loved him.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘He was a gangster, Oz,’ she said philosophically. ‘I suppose danger comes with the job. If he’d bothered to tell me. .’

‘What?’

‘I’d probably have stayed with him. As it was, he loved me. He gave up his life trying to protect me.’ She started to sob quietly. ‘If only I wasn’t so pathologically jealous. I had a bad experience with that Australian faggot, Sandy. When Tony started keeping odd hours, I thought the worst. . and the worst happened, although not as I’d imagined.’ She killed her third can. I gave her another. ‘Now,’ she belched quietly as she tore it open, ‘I’m royally fucked. Tony didn’t leave me in any doubt about these people. They will keep coming.’

‘Then we’ll have to stop them,’ I said.

She sighed. ‘And just how are we going to do that?’

‘Good question,’ Dylan chipped in.

‘If you’re writing this book,’ I asked him, ‘what happens?’

‘Fuck knows,’ he said wonderfully tactlessly. ‘Maddy keeps on running or, like I said in jest a while back, lives with me in New York till the heat’s off?’

Madeleine scowled at him: clearly she didn’t fancy that idea.

I leaned back against the headboard of Prim’s bed. She was reclining beside me, wrapped in a hotel dressing-gown. ‘Way I see it,’ I took time to kill some beer of my own, ‘there’s only one thing you can do to break the cycle. You’ve still got these pics, am I right?’ She nodded. ‘Stored on a PDA?’

‘Clever boy.’

‘Then use the power they give you.’

‘What do you mean?’

I laughed at her amazing ability to think in everything but a straight line. ‘Maddy, why do these people want to kill you? What did Tony tell you? The man you saw with him, the man in the photographs: his identity is unknown to anyone outside his organisation. The Singaporean government has been trying to identify him for years, and shut him down, but they can’t because he’s too strong, and too clever. At least he was, until you came stumbling into his life.’

‘So?’

‘So put an end to him. Use the fucking knowledge: give the photographs to the Singapore police.’

She stared at me. So did Dylan: I’d just written a new twist into his book. (By the way, Maddy thought that his name really was Benedict Luker.)

‘It’s that simple?’ she exclaimed.

‘Nothing in life is that simple, but it’s all you can do unless you fancy sharing Benny’s humble loft for the foreseeable future.’

She frowned. ‘But I’m in New Jersey,’ she murmured. ‘I’m not going back to Sing, Oz. I can’t do that.’

I shook my head. ‘You don’t need to,’ I told her. ‘I’ll arrange for Sing to come to you.’

By the time Maddy had been convinced, with Prim’s help, I have to say, that she had run out of healthy options, it had gone eight thirty. We ordered room-service sandwiches and ate them in virtual silence.

Pretty soon, the effects of the beer started to show on Madeleine. I motioned to Dylan that we should leave the girls to settle down for the night, and led him back to my room. I did a quick calculation and reckoned that it would be mid-morning in Singapore; Sunday morning, granted, but the guy I was planning to call wasn’t the type to go off watch, ever.

As we’d done in the Stamford, I put the hotel phone on hands-free mode and dialled Jimmy Tan’s mobile number. I’d been wrong: there was no answer. We watched some baseball on TV, then I tried him again an hour later. This time I came up lucky.

‘Who this?’ he asked suspiciously. The readout on his cell-phone wasn’t giving him any clues.

‘Oz Blackstone and Benny Luker,’ I told him.

‘Ah, you guys. You still chase the lady? If you find her tell her from me there no problem with that thing in Malaysia.’

‘We have found her, Jimmy.’

His chuckle filled the room. ‘There no escape from you bad boys,’ he said. ‘But so what?’

‘So plenty,’ Dylan cut in. ‘She has something you’ve been trying to get your hands on for years, and she’s ready to hand it over.’

‘What she got that I would want?’

‘The picture that started all this off: the one of Tony Lee and the Triad chieftain. We assumed that he had burned it with all the rest, and maybe he did, but Maddy made another copy, on computer.’ We could hear Tan’s gasp.

‘You serious?’

‘Never more so,’ I told him.

‘This is great news; I tell the prime minister about this.’

‘You don’t tell anybody, Jimmy,’ Mike insisted, ‘until you have the pictures in your hands and until Maddy’s well clear of pursuit.’

‘Okay, he can wait. Where are you?’

‘We’re in the US; Trenton, New Jersey. How soon can you get to us?’

‘Oz, I never leave South East Asia. I send someone, my most trusted person.’

‘Jimmy, we want to deal with you.’

‘I send you my right hand. You want me cut off real one, send that as proof?’

I looked at Dylan. He shrugged and nodded. ‘Okay,’ I conceded. ‘What do we do?’

‘Where is nearest airport?’

‘There’s one in here in Trenton,’ Dylan volunteered. ‘I saw a sign for it as we came into the city.’

‘Then that where we meet; you find meeting room in terminal, my person find you, give you letter of introduction from me. You hand over photos and have plane waiting; soon as it’s done, you all get hell out of there, you, woman. .’ he paused ‘. . and Mr Luker.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘Simple precaution, Oz,’ Mike said. ‘Jimmy doesn’t like to admit it, but the Triads are everywhere and there’s an outside chance they’ve penetrated his organisation. If his messenger has been followed, well, we don’t want to get caught there. Right, Jimmy?’

‘Right,’ Tan growled. ‘But only very outside chance.’

‘We won’t risk it, though,’ I decided. ‘I’ll have a private jet on the ground ready to move. When?’

‘It long flight, Singapore to eastern seaboard.’ He was silent, calculating. ‘Sunday morning here now, maybe can’t get on a plane tonight. Make it six, Monday evening, USA time.’

‘Right; we’ll be ready.’ I frowned, as if he could see me. ‘When you get these photographs, Jimmy, you will shut these people down, won’t you?’

‘Oz,’ he chuckled, ‘they not know what hit them.’

The waiting, again. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were singing in my brain all that night and all through Sunday. Maddy never left her room, and she was never left alone either. The security bolt was on all night and during the day either Mike or I was always with her.

I left all the arrangements until the Monday morning as a tiny piece of extra security. They didn’t take long to make. I booked a twelve-seater Gulfstream jet, to be on the ground and fuelled up by five thirty, ready to take off on command, destination Newark, ready to connect with a British Airways flight to Heathrow for Mrs Primavera Blackstone, Ms Madeleine January and me, and with the train to Penn Station for Mr Benedict Luker.