Close Range (12 page)

‘How d’you figure that?’

‘If this involves my mother, it involves me.’

Abri looked ready to argue for a second, but then relaxed. She brushed her hair away from her face and gave Jake a small nod.

‘We never meant for her to be mixed up in it. But she’s working for Granble, so …’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Jake.
‘You
work for Granble!’

‘Only on paper,’ said Abri. ‘You remember what I said to you back in the church? About his mining group?’

Jake nodded, remembering that same group being mentioned by his father, but kept his mouth shut. There was no need to let on how much he knew – not just yet.

‘So many lives have been messed up because of that megalomaniac’s actions,’ Abri went on. ‘Kids working in the mines before they can read, inhumane conditions, terrible accidents. It’s economic slavery. Arms dealing too. Granble will shake hands with anyone as long as it makes him richer. Some of us decided to do something about it.’

‘You’re with the protestors?’ said Jake.

‘We have similar aims,’ said Abri. ‘But we like to do things a little …
bigger.’

‘Who’s we?’

Abri shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.’

‘But you are,’ said Jake. ‘And it sounds like you need as many friends as you can get. Is it just you, Sienna and Monique?’

Abri’s lip began to tremble. She nodded. ‘Just Monique and me now. We made a pact to bring Granble down.’

And he’s not going down lightly,
Jake thought.

But there was a piece of the puzzle still missing.

‘How does my mum fit into all this? She’s not responsible for the mining. She’s just another of Granble’s employees.’

‘She was,’ said Abri, ‘but now she has incriminating evidence against us. A photograph.’

Jake remembered the pictures on the computer. ‘Those photos of you on the street … they’re not just “candid modelling shots”, are they?’

‘It’s complicated,’ said Abri. ‘She took hundreds of pictures, all around the city. We think she may have unknowingly photographed a …
meeting
… a face that can’t be linked to us.’

‘Who?’ Jake asked.

‘His name’s Ferrara. He’s a diamond fence. He clears stolen stones on to the market for a cut of the profits.’

The guy on the motorbike, talking to Sienna. It had to be. But why would Sienna be talking to a diamond fence?

As soon as Jake thought it, the answer came to him.

‘You
stole Granble’s diamonds.’

A
bri nodded, a grim smile on her lips.

‘But … I don’t understand … You –’

‘We rigged the gas canisters on our first visit to the church,’ Abri explained. ‘Once they went off, we took down the guards posted outside. Monique stood guard while Sienna and I went in with the masks on and did what we had to do.’

She leapt off the bottom of the fire escape and continued walking up the street. Jake could see the outline of the gun under her top. He kicked himself for not working it out it sooner. The thieves – at the airport and in the church – had been so graceful and agile. He’d only thought they were men because they were both tall.

Did I learn nothing from Helga, the ruthless Russian assassin?

‘Wait a minute!’ he called after her, realising something. ‘My
mother
was in that church. I was in there!’

Abri looked back for a moment. ‘We would never have hurt anyone … well, except Granble and his thugs.’

That didn’t seem to be the point, but perhaps this wasn’t the time to argue.

‘So what now?’ he asked, catching up. ‘You sell the diamonds and make a big profit? If Granble’s operation is as big as you say, won’t he just get more diamonds?’

Abri shook her head. They’d reached a corner and she was peering out into the street beyond. ‘A man like Granble needs investors to fund the mining work. He’s promised them all big returns. Our only chance of bringing him down is to make sure he can’t deliver on his promises.’

‘And if investment dries up,’ said Jake, ‘so does the Granble Mining Corporation.’

‘Bingo,’ said Abri. ‘We want to humiliate Granble so much that no one wants to do business with him again. Come on, we have to keep moving.’ She broke into a jog across the street.

Jake followed. ‘There’s got to be a better way,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t you just organise more political opposition? Lobby the South African government?’

Abri snorted as she paused outside a coffee bar. ‘Granble’s rich enough to buy politicians. Anyway, you’ve seen how ineffective protesting is. All those placards, all that chanting – it gets nowhere.’

Her chin was slightly raised, challenging him to defy her. Jake could understand her passion, but he still wasn’t sure he agreed with her methods. And now that Sienna was dead, what was her next step?

They crossed a car park, and Jake kept his eyes open for Buzz-cut or anyone else who looked threatening. There was a man in builder’s overalls leaning against a lamppost, but he seemed more interested in Abri’s figure than anything else.

‘Do you think Granble’s capable of murder?’ asked Jake.

‘Hundreds die or get injured every year in his mines,’ said Abri. ‘He’s not the sort of guy who gets his own hands dirty, though.’

‘Then we should go to the police,’ he said.

‘No way,’ said Abri.

‘But until Granble gets his diamonds back you’re in danger. So is Monique. He knows it was you who stole his diamonds.’

‘We all knew what we were signing up for. Even Sienna.’

Christ, she was
tough.

‘But not me,’ said Jake. ‘And not my mother.’

Across the street was a police car with the door open and the officer behind the wheel making notes on a pad. Jake started walking over, but Abri grabbed his shoulder. ‘Please, Jake. Don’t do this.’

Jake paused.
Observe and report,
that’s what his dad
had said. He probably didn’t think that included concealing a murder, abetting a jewel thief, getting shot at and helping a hired hit man in his fall off a building. But MI6 were interested in Granble too. They were coming at him from a different angle, but they were all on the same side, weren’t they? And certainly his dad wouldn’t want the police sniffing around Granble. Even if the police believed his story – which would probably sound ridiculous to anyone who wasn’t involved in it.

‘Where are the diamonds now?’ said Jake. ‘Are they in the flat?’

Abri tensed. ‘It’s better if you don’t know,’ she said.

Jake pulled his arm free. The policeman still hadn’t noticed them.

‘You want me to trust you,’ he said. ‘Try trusting
me.’

‘I’m trying to keep you
safe,’
she said.

‘I don’t need you to,’ said Jake.

Abri rubbed a hand across her forehead. ‘Look, Jake, I need to go and find Monique. She’s in danger.’

‘Where is she?’ asked Jake.

‘I don’t know,’ said Abri. ‘The plan was that we all take our diamonds to separate fences, to make sure Granble can’t trace them all together. Monique was meeting hers first.’

‘And you know where this guy is?’ said Jake.

‘No,’ said Abri. ‘We kept that information to ourselves, in case one of us was caught.’

The police officer closed his door and started his engine. ‘You think Granble might be tailing her?’ ‘It’s possible.’

Abri took out her phone and speed-dialled a number. Jake watched worry creep over her face as she held it to her ear.

‘Damn it! It’s the answerphone,’ she said. ‘Hey, Mon, it’s Abs. Listen, something’s gone wrong.’ She paused, and Jake could see she was weighing up whether to mention Sienna. ‘We need to meet. In the square in front of the Duomo. Noon.’ She hung up. ‘I really hope she’s OK.’ ‘Why the Duomo?’ Jake asked. ‘Anyone can see you there.’ ‘Exactly,’ said Abri. ‘It’s the most open space in the city. Granble would have to be crazy, or desperate, to try something there.’

Jake didn’t say that from what he’d seen Granble
was
crazy. And probably desperate too.

He offered a hand to Abri as the police car drove off. ‘There’s no way you’re going there on your own.’

The taxi pulled up at 11.55.

The Duomo rose high above the surrounding buildings, the colour of sand. Its spires and arches reminded Jake of his
time in Paris, studying at the Lycée near Notre-Dame. Abri was right. The square was teeming with tourists who consulted guidebooks and posed for photos. There were at least two guided tours making their way to the front of the cathedral. Jake caught snatches from a French group, learning that the Duomo was started in 1386 and was the fourth-largest cathedral in the world.

If he survived today, he had a feeling he would always remember those two bits of trivia.

The tour group drifted away. It looked like such a normal day in the city that Jake found it hard to get a grip on what was happening … Sienna’s body was, right now, lying dead and cold in a ransacked flat less than a mile away.

From the grim look on Abri’s face as she paid the taxi driver, Jake guessed she was thinking similar thoughts.

Jake and Abri tried to blend in. Abri was wearing an Inter Milan cap and a pair of oversize shades bought from a street stall a couple of blocks down from the cathedral. The last thing she wanted was for one of her fans to spot her and cause a scene.

Jake scanned the crowd, looking for Monique. He felt a prickle of nerves in his gut when he couldn’t see her.

‘We’ll wait by the statue,’ said Abri, pointing to a sculpture at the edge of the square – a horseman on a pedestal.

Jake kept his eyes peeled as they walked over. If Granble had tracked them here, would it really be that hard for another assassin to blend in with the crowd? He pushed the words ‘gun’ and ‘silencer’ out of his mind.

At one minute before noon, a scooter rode up alongside them. Monique flipped back her visor, and kicked out the stand.

‘I’ve got news for you,’ she said. ‘Something big.’ Monique then seemed to notice Jake. ‘Hey! What the hell’s he doing here?’ she said. ‘Where’s Sienna?’

Abri stepped forwards and placed her hand on Monique’s. ‘Listen, Mon. Granble’s on to us. He killed Sienna.’

Monique sat back in her seat. For a moment, Jake thought she might faint.

‘What?’ she gasped. ‘No!’

‘It’s true,’ said Jake. ‘He nearly got Abri too.’

‘I don’t understand,’ choked Monique. ‘We were so careful. How could Granble find out? Someone must have told him,’ she said, looking at Jake.

‘Have you met your fence?’ said Abri. ‘Have you handed over the diamonds?’

‘I’m not saying anything in front of him,’ said Monique, jutting her chin out.

Abri slid an arm round her friend. ‘Jake’s on our side.’

‘We don’t need allies,’ said Monique, clenching her fists. ‘Christ, what were you thinking, Abs?’ She took off her helmet and ran her hands through her hair. A couple of guys sitting at a table in a café looked over, suddenly interested.

‘If you haven’t got rid of your diamonds yet, you need to do it ASAP,’ Abri said. ‘I’ll offload mine too. We need to disappear until all this blows over.’

‘It’s not that simple any more,’ said Monique. ‘My fence, he told me that the diamonds are –’

Monique seemed to jump a little, then rolled back on her heels. She clutched her chest as though she’d realised she’d left something out of her pocket.

‘Mon?’ said Abri. ‘What’s up?’

A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth. She dropped her hands. They too were covered in blood, and a dark pattern blossomed through her blue jumper.

Jake looked up, sweeping the buildings on all sides. He hadn’t even heard the shot.

Sniper!

‘… they’re … f-fake,’ Monique stammered.

‘M
on!
’ Abri shrieked.

Jake pulled her away and dived under the nearest table. There was a thump, and a dent appeared in the thick plastic above his head. A bullet. One of the men at the next table shouted
‘Mafiosi!
’ and people scattered off their chairs in all directions.

‘Mon?’ said Abri, reaching a hand towards Monique.

‘Keep down,’ Jake hissed.

Monique toppled sideways on to the ground, dead already. The scooter crashed on top of her legs. A tourist with a camera saw the body and screamed. Others joined the commotion, as blood began to pool under Monique. Abri was frozen beside Jake.

Jake pushed Abri under a sunshade. The shots seemed to have stopped, and with all the gathered people Jake guessed the gunman wouldn’t try again.

‘We have to leave now,’ he said, pulling Abri with him back towards Monique.

At the dead model’s side, he gently unhooked her handbag from her arm. A woman shouted something in what Jake thought was German. He ignored her. If there was no ID it would take the police longer to link the killing to Abri and Sienna. Someone else called out in Italian that someone should stop him. Jake saw angry, confused faces gathered around. It wouldn’t be long before this crowd turned ugly. He grabbed the bike’s handles and pulled it upright.

Abri crouched at Monique’s side.

‘Get on!’ Jake shouted.

Abri suddenly lost her tough veneer. She looked like a lost child. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Monique …’

‘She’s gone,’ said Jake, tugging her arm. Abri offered little resistance, and climbed up behind him on the scooter. Jake heard the wail of police sirens, not far off. The crowd was thickening, and one of the men from the table in the café came forwards and put his hands on the handlebars.

‘Stop!’ he said.

I don’t have time for this,
Jake thought. Abri was holding his waist limply, but not saying anything.

He kicked up the stand, and shoved the Italian roughly in the chest. The guy stumbled over a fallen chair and landed
on his backside. He shouted something that Jake could guess wasn’t pretty.

‘Hold on!’ he said to Abri.

Jake gunned the throttle, and the scooter roared off across the square.

A woman leading a toddler pulled her child away, but Jake had already swerved around them. He braked hard as he came to a queue lining up outside the cathedral’s main entrance. Looking back, he saw the crowd around Monique was bigger than before. Among them was a police officer wearing a peaked cap. The man whom Jake had shoved to the ground was pointing wildly in their direction.