Claire Kendal - I Spy

‘Was Jane in contact with her brother?’ Jane Eyre rose and fell as I breathed.

‘As far as we can tell, only after their father’s death, not before.’

‘Well, you should still look at the brother. Most people would be pretty pissed off if some sibling they didn’t even know swanned in and took half their inheritance.’

‘Listen to me, Holly. Jane Miller is like you. And like your friend in the book.’ Briefly, lightly, she tapped Jane Eyre with a gloved finger. ‘She found herself living with a man whose closets were filled with skeletons. And she found, in the end, that she had to look in them. You are already living the perfect cover story. You don’t need to change a thing.’

Round and round my finger went. ‘My life isn’t a cover story. My life is my life. My life is real.’ I shook my head. ‘Normally, you ask someone inside a government organisation to betray their country in some way. In my case, you want me to betray my boyfriend, be an informant on my boyfriend. No way. Not happening.’

‘There are countless kinds of intelligence targets. You know that. We want any information that can help us find Jane and make sure she’s safe.’

‘Zac doesn’t make women unsafe. Zac saves people’s lives. Besides which, making sure women are safe is not your core business.’

‘Our core business is complicated.’

‘Then perhaps you should try explaining it in more detail to your potential agents. You might find they’d cooperate more enthusiastically.’

‘You’re a little different than most, more informed than is typical, given your history with us. I’m telling you everything I can. More than usual.’

‘Flattering and confiding all in one move – you’re a master of that recruitment script, but it’s not working. Zac wouldn’t hurt anybody. He’s the most loving, protective, generous man I’ve ever known.’

‘That’s a lot of adjectives.’

‘I don’t need you to critique my language. I finished my English degree.’

‘If you’re right about him, then looking more closely can only show that.’

I put Jane Eyre in my bag, out of her sight and reach. ‘Why on earth would I do this for you? What are you even trying to buy me with? I know you normally think of incentives when you’re recruiting an agent. What possible incentive would I have?’

She allowed herself a smile. ‘Ideological, in your case. I won’t patronise you by not admitting that. It’s your value system. You’d be protecting other women. Helping Jane. As I said, you’d be helping Zac, too.’

‘He wouldn’t see it that way. This is a wasted journey for you. There is no way I will do this.’

‘Look. Here’s another incentive for you, but maybe one that isn’t so easy for you to admit. I’m talking about your curiosity. You are Pandora, Holly. It’s in your blood, that impulse to look where you shouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve continued to do it, even without the legitimacy that the job would have given you.’

She was right, but I wasn’t about to admit it to her. ‘I’m not going to spy on Zac. Not for anybody and certainly not for you.’

‘If he’s telling you the truth, you’ve nothing to lose. You’d be helping him, removing him from suspicion. If you’re wrong, wouldn’t it be better for you to know it? Because if you are wrong, you may be living with a modern-day Bluebeard.’

I shook my head, trying to use reason to fight the tightening in my stomach. ‘It doesn’t make sense. This isn’t the kind of thing the Security Service involves itself in. We aren’t talking about national security, here. What aren’t you telling me?’

‘We work extremely closely with the police on many operations and investigations.’

‘That’s empty rhetoric and you know it.’

‘Do you know what Jane looks like?’

I thought again of the photograph I found of her on the first night I slept with Zac. I’d searched for it several times since, without luck. ‘Yes.’

‘Then you know you resemble her. Same height and build – you’re a couple of centimetres taller, but not much. Same colouring, that unusual strawberry blonde hair you both have. Doesn’t that disturb you?’

‘Having a preferred type isn’t a sign that a man’s a psychopath and a murderer.’

‘Holly. I need to ask if Zac has ever done anything to hurt you.’

‘Of course not.’ I tugged Zac’s parka down at the wrists. They were slightly red and swollen, from where he’d pinned them above my head the previous night, one of those fine lines that you sometimes crossed during sex, when you were carried away. ‘But despite the fact you obviously disagree, rather than rescue me from him you want to send me back in.’

‘I’m confident there’s nothing I can say or do right now to keep you away from him. You don’t want to be rescued. So, given that this is where we find ourselves, it would help us a great deal if you would keep an eye out.’

‘No.’

‘You don’t need to do much. We can start small. If you come across any objects of Jane’s, tell us about them in as much detail as you can. Give them to us, if at all possible.’

‘It’s pointless. Not just because I said no and I mean it. Zac doesn’t even have any of her things.’

‘You might still stumble on something. We’d like to know of any communications Zac makes, especially if they are connected in any way to Jane. Who are his contacts? How does he get in touch with them? Email? Text? Phone? Laptop? Does he have any social media accounts? Maybe under a user name that people wouldn’t link to him? What trips does he make? If he ever happens to leave a device powered on you might be able to look. See if you can guess his password. Pay attention to where he’s going, who he’s meeting, if anyone ever visits him at work …’

‘Those are disgusting things to do to someone you care about, someone who’s trusted you and let you into their life.’

‘Do what you are comfortable with, then. What you can. You understand Zac. You’re intimate with him. You see the ins and outs of how he operates in ways we can’t.’

‘The answer’s no.’

‘It won’t kill you to think about it, and to be gently watchful while you do.’

‘Again … no.’

‘Let me ask you something.’

‘What?’

‘Did you ever tell Zac you tried to join us?’

‘No. Why would I?’ My voice cracked. ‘It was humiliating. Do you ever consider what it means to someone to work so hard to try to join you, to want to devote herself to that, to protecting her country, and then to discover she’s not good enough?’ I was surprised by my own honesty, by my nakedness and exposure.

‘I do. And it was wise of you to keep it to yourself. Did you tell anyone else?’

‘Only Milly and James and Peggy. As I disclosed when I applied.’

‘Again wise – I suggest you keep it that way. But just in case you change your mind about doing this for us, let me explain a bit more about how it can work.’

‘I’m not going to change my mind. I’ve said no so many times in the last few minutes I’ve lost count. No means no these days.’

‘I know that. I respect that. But it won’t hurt you to hear me out. It doesn’t obligate you to do anything. I’ve come a long way to see you – you can at least listen.’

‘I don’t remember guilt and emotional blackmail as part of the recruitment script.’

‘Well they are. Can you give me a few more minutes?’

All I gave her was a shrug, but she seized on it with a pleased nod.

‘Good,’ she said, and though I punctuated her sentences with shakes of my head, she told me that my identity would be protected, and that any written records would not be available except to a small number of those who needed access, and that any information about my own wrongdoing would not be acted upon.