Authors: Kevin Wignall
People Die (13 page)
“Sorry I missed you the other day. Ed Holden.” JJ nodded, momentarily stuck for a response, and let him in. He put the gun away then and the two of them sat down in the chairs by the window. “Helen just came in and told Susan you’d come back looking tired, so, first opportunity.”
“Where have you been?”
“I have a cabin up on Lake Champlain. I went up there for a couple of days.” JJ laughed in disbelief, that the story he’d spun the Russian had been so close to the truth. “I should explain,” continued Holden. “I thought it would take a few days before you showed up here and, though I’m sure it’s not an issue, I didn’t want to hang around the inn unnecessarily, just in case anyone stumbled upon me by accident.” He waited for JJ to respond, but when nothing came he threw the original question back at him. “So where have you been? Susan mentioned Yale.”
“Killing Russians.”
“Not at random I hope,” Holden said, smiling, “Yale has a lot of overseas students.”
“I killed the one who was staying in your house, put him in the freezer. The other one was in a motel about ten, fifteen miles from here. Took him out in the woods.”
Holden’s smile slipped at the mention of the second Russian, the realization that they’d been closer to him than he’d imagined and that, however incomplete, they were getting information from somewhere.
He found another smile though, and said, “Well you certainly don’t hang around.” He seemed a lot more relaxed than he had on the phone, possibly just because the forced awkwardness of the satellite had made him seem more tense than he’d actually been.
“Nor do they,” said JJ. “And speaking of which, I hope you realize how lucky you were to catch me the other day.”
“Oh I do, though persistence played a bigger part than luck. Anyway, I didn’t call you because you were the only person who could help me, and that’s not to deny your undoubted skills. On the contrary, I called you because I felt a sense of obligation. You see, in effect, it’s my fault you’re a target.” He wanted JJ to ask why, a breezy playfulness about the guy, like it was all a joke.
“I don’t go for riddles,” JJ said, getting another smile out of Holden, like everything JJ said reminded him of himself when he was younger or someone else he’d known.
“I’ll explain everything tomorrow but I shouldn’t stay any longer now.” He sat forward on his chair, ready to get up. “Have your tea in the lounge after breakfast. We’ll meet by accident, take a walk.”
“Susan has no idea about me.”
“Absolutely not. But she’s okay with the business.” He looked deep in thought for a second and added, “After our walk, I’ll reveal that we have a common friend in Tom Furst. It’ll make it easier, you know, the transition from guest to whatever.”
JJ didn’t see why he needed to make that transition, wasn’t certain even that he wanted to. There was curiosity of course, that same lure of being allowed briefly through a door, from his side of death to theirs, but that still seemed an unhealthy curiosity to indulge.
And no less unhealthy was the curiosity he’d developed without warning in the last half hour, something that was fusing itself more and more in his head with the girl of two years before, even though there was no resemblance, though they had nothing in common. Almost nothing.
As if sensing his disquiet, Holden stood and said cheerily, “So how does it feel, being here?”
“I don’t know,” answered JJ truthfully. “I was uneasy about coming here, obviously, but now I’m here, I don’t know, I don’t feel anything. They’re just people.”
Holden nodded, not smiling this time but looking like he understood. “Isn’t that what it’s about, knowing when to feel and when not to? Thanks for the Russians by the way.”
JJ smiled, warming to the guy’s tone, and said, “You’re welcome.”
Holden walked over to the door and left. JJ got up and locked it behind him and then lay back on the bed, aware that he hadn’t been entirely truthful, that he was beginning to feel something toward them, however hard it was to pin down.
He had a good feeling about Holden though, despite the initial reservations, the suspicion of a stranger who knew things about him. He’d withhold his judgment till he got the full story, but if it was true that Holden felt obliged to him, that in itself was rare, a person who felt obliged to anyone when his own spot was marked.
There was something else too, the way he’d thought about introducing him to the Bostridges as a friend of a friend. It seemed to tie in with the way Tom had spoken about him, leaving JJ wondering why he’d never heard of Holden before. But then he’d never needed to know who any of these people were before.
Just as, until then, the families of victims had been distant people, characters in stories whose lives and emotions he’d only imagined. And now he was almost in among them, perhaps only a day away from getting to know all of them, from being accepted as a friend. It was a strange prospect, but suddenly something he felt compelled toward, for the most questionable of reasons, because he’d seen that victim’s daughter from the stairs and she was beautiful.
12
After breakfast he sat in the lounge again with Lenny and Dee, looking through the papers, the same superficial reflections. He didn’t learn much more about them, other than the odd fact that Lenny owned aircraft hangars for a living.
They mentioned their boys just as much, a trait he found touching, the fact that even for one week in Vermont they clearly missed them. The prospect of bringing them along on the next trip rose again, JJ imagining how the boys would most likely become besotted with the Bostridge girl and all the emotional crises that would entail.
The first sign that Holden was coming was Kathryn bringing in a tray with a pot of coffee and a cup on it. She didn’t say anything, just set down the tray and left, and a minute or two later Holden came in, picked up the tray, brought it over to join them.
“Another fine day,” he said triumphantly, like he was talking about the stock market or the economy. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all, Ed,” Dee replied, just as enthusiastic. “How was the lake?” Lenny looked up to hear what Ed had to say.
“Beautiful, beautiful. Something special.” There was that look again, the deep-in-thought look JJ had seen the previous night, before he added, “You know, if you’re back here next year, feel free to take a few days in the cabin. You’re more than welcome.”
“That’s very kind,” said Lenny, and Dee looked in danger of throwing her arms around him, like all their efforts had paid off, a sense of inclusion. “We might just take you up on that offer.”
Ed smiled and nodded, a little embarrassed perhaps by the emotional pitch of their response. He turned to JJ then and said, “I’m sorry, we haven’t met but I guess you’re JJ. I’m Ed Holden.”
They shook hands, JJ saying, “Pleased to meet you, Ed. I take it it’s not your first time here?”
“No, in fact I’m not a guest. Old family friend. And you’re here between business trips I’m told.”
“That’s right,” said JJ. “Recharging the batteries.”
Ed nodded and turned to Dee who was still looking on, Lenny having gone back to the papers. “So what do you two have planned for today?”
“Highlight of the trip,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’re making the drive up to Ben and Jerry’s!” It was the second time JJ had heard that; he remembered now that it was an ice-cream brand, guessing it was made somewhere nearby. As if to reinforce the fact, Dee asked, “Do you have Ben and Jerry’s in England, JJ?”
“Yes, we do,” he said, letting go that he’d already told them a couple of times that he lived in Switzerland.
Ed wagged his finger at her teasingly and said, “Just remember, a moment on the lips”—the three Americans finished the phrase together then, a summer camp chorus—“a lifetime on the hips!” That accomplished, Ed turned to JJ, asking, “And what about you, JJ, any plans for the day?”
“Just walking about the place, taking in the woods.”
“That’s what I’m planning for the morning. Maybe I could join you, if you don’t mind the company?”
“Not at all.” He noticed Lenny and Dee looking hoodwinked again, could imagine them trying to work out later why the English guy seemed to get taken so easily into the fold, consoling themselves perhaps with Ed’s offer of the cabin.
When the two of them set off for their walk a little later, Ed pointed to a part of the garden that sloped down into a small hollow surrounded by trees.
“See there,” he said. “When David and Susan first bought this place there was a swimming hole down there. So when Jem was born he decided it was dangerous and that he was gonna fill it in. One of the neighbors objected, said it would damage the wildlife, but no one could find anything in there, not so much as a frog. Then someone else came forward, said the hole was artificial anyway, dug by the people who had the place before the war, family called Timmins. So he started to fill it in, but the Timminses had chosen a good spot; it was two winters before he finally cracked it.” They’d walk on a way but Ed stopped and turned back to look at it now, saying, “David did a good job too though, never seen it flooded since. No sign at all it was ever there.”
“Nowhere to swim,” said JJ, appreciating how smart it had been to use the phrase.
Ed nodded and said, “It’s something of an in-joke among friends, ’specially people who’ve been here midsummer.”
“It wouldn’t have been Tom who gave away that you were in Vermont?”
“Absolutely not,” Ed answered, leaving no room for doubt. “And if it had been Tom, I hardly think the Russian you dealt with would have been fifteen miles away.”
“True. It’s the way I am, though. I never rule anyone out.” Yet once again the nagging doubt was there, the way he’d almost let Esther get to him. It had been an easy mistake in exceptional circumstances but there was never any excuse, and if Esther hadn’t made mistakes too they’d have still been cleaning bits of his brains from the mosaic floor.
Holden knew nothing about it though, and just as JJ was mentally chastening himself for trusting someone he said, “That’s the smartest way, but in the end it’s the loneliest too. You have to have people you can trust, have to have an instinct for it. Like you, I trust you already, just as much as I trust Tom. I don’t believe it would ever figure in your game plan to double-cross me. It’s who you are.”
JJ laughed a little, taking the compliment but not believing it for a minute. Holden was coming across as too laid-back for someone who’d been in the business that long, JJ certain there were more layers than he’d ever see beneath that easygoing surface.
“Well I’m glad you trust me,” he said. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Ed nodded but didn’t say anything at first, waiting as two people passed them on mountain bikes, coming off the woodland trail they were just about to start up. Ed and the cyclists exchanged greetings, and then as they walked on he pointed vaguely at the tree canopies, saying, “In a few weeks there’ll be people like that swarming all over these woods.”
“Yeah, Susan told me. Leaf peepers.”
“Leaf peepers,” Ed repeated, apparently amused by the term. “So you want information.”
“Well, as you just pointed out, I’m too early for the leaf-peeping season.”
Ed laughed again in response, still smiling as he started to speak. “I still have something I need to figure out, but this is how it’s shaping up. David and me went a long way back, similar backgrounds. We started a business venture buying art in Russia, selling it here, mainly for David—he liked the excitement.” JJ smiled, thinking of how much excitement Bostridge had ended up getting, and as if thinking along the same lines Ed said, “Quite. The thing is, David was never a company man or anything, but he started to get involved with little bits of company business here and there, you know, like carrying messages, information. It was all a game to him, like being in a James Bond movie.”
“It certainly has a familiar ring to it.”
“It gets more familiar. A couple of years ago it seems David crossed some boundaries and it goes down that London wants him removed. Berg’s pulling the strings and, cautious as ever, he decides to run it past me first. Not like I have a veto, just to keep everything sweet.”
“You knew Bostridge was gonna be killed?”
Ed nodded and said, “From the first time he went to Moscow I knew he’d end up taking a bullet. It still came as a shock, ’specially that it was us doing the killing.” He fell silent for a couple of paces, either trying to work something out or just lost in thought, pulling himself back after a moment or two. “So anyway, I wanted him to be taken down by someone decent, someone I knew would do it properly, quickly. I insisted on you or Lo Bello. Berg said he could get you. So that’s why it’s my fault you’re involved, why I felt obliged to help.”
JJ took in what he’d heard so far, intrigued by the mechanics behind what had seemed like a straightforward hit. “I’m following you,” he said, “but I don’t see where this is heading. You think Berg wants me dead because I unknowingly killed someone for him two years ago.”
“He wants you dead,” Ed said, clarifying the point, “because he can’t be sure Viner never told you that it was Berg’s hit. See, I made some inquiries afterwards and no one I spoke to knew how David had crossed the line. The more I looked, the more I began to think the hit was personal business for Berg, probably a favor for some gangster or other.”
“And?”
“And now, for whatever reason, Berg wants to eliminate everyone who knew or might have known about the hit. There’s been some ballast, but most of the key people targeted in the last couple of days were connected in some way with the hit on David. Of course, typically for Berg, he’s been methodical about making it look like something else, but he’s done this before. You have to hand it to him, he’s a smart cookie.”
“You have no idea why?” It was already looking obvious to JJ but he wanted to get as much as possible from Holden before he started speculating.
“I’ve got a lot of people looking into options for me, but nothing concrete, no.”
They’d reached the point at the top of the climb that looked over the Copley and the village. Ed stopped to take it all in. “This is one of Susan’s favorite spots,” he said, taking a deep breath as if he could draw all of it in like that.
JJ looked at it too, nodding, in no real mood for scenery though, his mind stacking things up. It seemed hard to believe Holden wasn’t ahead of him, but then Berg was probably better at fooling his own kind than he was anyone else, intelligence people always too eager to construct puzzles where there were none, looking into the distance when there were corpses at their feet.
“What about the Russians I killed? Doesn’t that suggest the most obvious connection?”
“I don’t think so,” said Ed, his tone dismissive. “They’ll have been Sarkisan’s people. Berg and Sarkisan have been in bed together for years. And he wouldn’t care about who killed David; it might even have been his call.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about them being Sarkisan’s men,” said JJ. “Someone told me the other day that Berg’s been making some high-level contacts
recently
, that they were taking care of his protection at the moment. So maybe it’s those contacts he doesn’t want finding out about Bostridge. I mean, Bostridge must have had some powerful friends out there if someone like Sarkisan didn’t want to be seen to hit him.”
recently
, that they were taking care of his protection at the moment. So maybe it’s those contacts he doesn’t want finding out about Bostridge. I mean, Bostridge must have had some powerful friends out there if someone like Sarkisan didn’t want to be seen to hit him.”
Ed looked at him, impressed that JJ had come up with something he’d missed, like he’d never anticipated getting anything as ethereal as information from him, or a theory.
“Who told you this?”
“Stuart Pearson.” There was a moment of calculation then on Ed’s part, despite his claim of complete trust in JJ, and the careful question, “Pearson talked to you?”
“That’s one way of putting it. I was threatening to kill his children at the time.”
Ed smiled indulgently, relaxing again, like JJ was a student owning up to his part in a drunken prank. His face took on a different expression then, one of satisfaction that the simple piece of information from Pearson was all he’d needed to see what everything came down to. “Then I think you’re right, we have an answer,” he said, then digressed, “Did you retrieve anything from the two Russians?”
“Couple of passports from the house sitter, another from the tourist.”
“Good. I’ll go down to Washington with them tomorrow, make some inquiries. I’m pretty certain, though, that these links you’re talking about must be with Naumenko. It all adds up, everything you’ve said.”
Ed started walking again and after a few paces JJ said, “Aleksandr Naumenko. I’ve heard a bit about him.”
“But not much,” added Ed. “He’s an interesting character, smarter than the rest put together, just as ruthless, discreet with it, and if he isn’t the most powerful man in Russia already, he certainly will be. No one wants to touch him either. The other bosses all respect or fear him. Incredible.” Ed looked in awe, like he was discussing some historic figure.
JJ thought instead about what it meant for Berg to have this person on his side, the obstacle of freeing himself and Holden from the contract suddenly looking insurmountable. In the light of it the last few days picking off people here and there seemed as much a game, as much a fantasy, as Bostridge acting the spy in Moscow. JJ said, “So do you want to share with me why this is good news?”
“Of course.” Ed nodded, smiling. “You see, if it’s Naumenko it does explain why Berg wants us dead, just like you said. Because we know that he killed David, and Naumenko loved David, I mean loved him, chemistry between them. Strange but there it was. They did a lot of business together, became great friends. Apparently he cried when he heard David had been killed. He never forgave me either, said I should have made David more aware of the dangers.”
Ed looked lost again, like he blamed himself too. It made JJ think back as well, to his own preoccupation that night, never realizing that somewhere, probably in the same city, a man as dangerous as Naumenko had been reduced to weeping over David Bostridge, and that back in America Holden had waited, knowing that the trip would end badly, that he’d have to comfort the family, knowing all the time that he’d sanctioned it, chosen the killer.
“So in theory,” JJ said eventually, “if it is Naumenko, we only have to tell him what we know about Berg and that should give us some movement.”
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