The Hunter's Prayer (16 page)

She flagged down a taxi, relieved and exhilarated as she sat in the back for the short drive to the hotel. There were other feelings lurking in there, but she smothered them because she knew she had no reason to feel bad about Brodsky or going against Lucas.

It was a life that would be on her conscience but she was happy to carry it, no less so than if she’d been an executioner, carrying out the will of the state, ridding society of those who didn’t deserve to live.

She felt confident, empowered, and then she got back to the hotel and immediately stumbled into herself, her triumphalism crumbling guiltily around her. Lucas was sitting in the lobby, clearly waiting for her, his seat positioned so that he could see anyone coming into the hotel. She waved as soon as she saw him, trying to look cheerful, like someone who’d been out seeing the city, knowing she couldn’t conceal what he half knew already.

Lucas waved back and smiled a little but by the time she reached him, he looked stern again and said, ‘Take a seat. There’s something I need to tell you.’ She sat down, still trying to look innocent. ‘I spent the evening making a few calls, looking into the information Bruno gave us. I discovered something very interesting about the ownership of Larsen Grohl.’

It took her a second or two to realize this talk was nothing to do with her visit to Brodsky. She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t mentioned it when he clearly knew she’d been there, but then she added it all up, that he hadn’t mentioned it because this was more important, whatever it was he’d found out, the ownership of Larsen Grohl.

‘Why? Who owns it?’

‘You do.’

‘What? I don’t get it.’

He nodded, his face somber as he said, ‘It’s one of your father’s companies. It means the person who murdered your family wasn’t some enemy from the past; it was someone on the inside, someone in a position to use company funds and a company account to do something like this.’

She still couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying, except that he’d been right, that someone her dad had trusted had plotted to have him killed. Someone within Larsen Grohl had used her dad’s own money to have him and his family murdered.

A siren sounded as some emergency vehicle sped past the hotel. Lucas seemed oblivious, so she said, ‘We need to speak to Simon, find out the names of all employees of Larsen Grohl, past and present, find out if any of them had grudges.’

‘It’s more straightforward than that. We just need to find out who authorized the payment.’ He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how to broach it.

‘What is it?’

‘For the time being at least, it’s probably best if you don’t speak to Simon about this.’

‘Why not?’ She answered herself, laughing as she said, ‘You don’t seriously think he had anything to do with this?’

‘He had the most to gain.’

‘You don’t know Simon. And think about it: if he did this to get his hands on the business, what about me? I’m still alive, and I have the business now. He even knows I’ve left it to him in my will, so . . . Why am I still here? If it’s him, why am I still here?’

‘Biding his time? If anything, that could explain why the threat to you disappeared: because you were too close—it would have raised suspicions. As it is, you’ve given him free rein to run the business and he can wait until the opportunity arises.’

She shook her head. ‘No, you’re wrong. I trust Simon totally.’

‘Do you?’ He stared at her quizzically, like he knew something about her that she didn’t know herself. Another piercing siren sounded and this time Lucas glanced briefly towards the lobby doors before saying, ‘So he knows about me, does he? He knows you’re here in Budapest? He knows what you’re doing?’

She didn’t respond because she knew how it looked and that she had no explanation for it. She’d wanted to keep Lucas to herself, to keep this whole business to herself, but not because she hadn’t trusted Simon. She wasn’t even sure why she’d wanted things like that except, perhaps, the belief that revenge was her responsibility, and that she hadn’t wanted it taken away from her, the only thing left that she could do for them.

Lucas seemed to notice that she was upset because he softened now and said, ‘Look, I’m not saying it’s your uncle. I’m just trying to keep you safe and prepare you for all possibilities. We’ll find out, then you can tell him. In the meanwhile, you have to make like nothing’s happened.’

She nodded and said, ‘I hope it isn’t him.’

‘I know.’ He paused for a second or two. ‘Get some sleep. I’m getting the early train to Vienna so I’ll see you in a couple of days.’

‘Okay.’ A third siren grew sickeningly louder and she began to get nervous, wondering how bad the explosion had been.

Lucas looked to the lobby doors. ‘Must be a fire.’ He stood up and said, ‘Ella, don’t worry about this evening, and don’t worry about Simon. You’re right, I don’t know him.’

She offered him a lackluster smile. It couldn’t be Simon. She did know him, and even without that lifetime of accumulated knowledge, the way he’d idolized her dad, doted on Ben, she couldn’t believe the person who’d taken her so protectively under his wing this summer had conspired to kill them.

And yet. And yet there was a single discordant note sounding through her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it but she wanted to get back to London to make sure, check that she hadn’t simply overlooked it.

The folder he’d given her was still in her hotel room, a strange menagerie of companies, their profiles full of arcane language, some of them based in remote and exotic locations, but nowhere among them could she remember seeing the name of Larsen Grohl. She was trying to think of a reason why he might not have included it, but she could think of only one, and she was afraid.

Chapter Sixteen

S
he had no idea she was being followed. He’d be able to follow her right up to the door, push her inside. It had always amazed him, the number of targets who, whether through innocence, ignorance or complacency, behaved like there was nothing for them to be afraid of.

Ella reached her room, but even as she took out her key and slid it into the lock, she didn’t think to look behind her. She became aware of him for the first time as he stepped through the doorway with her.

Startled, she jumped backwards, too late, and said, ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Lucas—you scared the shit out of me!’ She gathered her thoughts a little and said, ‘You said a couple of days. And why didn’t you call first?’ The momentum was building again. ‘And Jesus, what’s with creeping up behind me like that?’

He closed the door and looked around the room. She could have had a suite, a whole floor, but here she was in a regular double. He liked that; it reminded him of who she was, who he’d first met, and almost made him regret why he was here.

‘If I’d been sent here to kill you—simple, you’d be dead. And you better start thinking about that, about being aware, taking extra precautions.’

Her anger sank back like a little child’s as she said, ‘You think I’m in . . .’ He put his hand up, fighting to control his own anger.

‘You’re a player now! You killed Bruno Brodsky! You don’t do things like that and go back to being sweet little Ella Hatto. You’re a player and you need security. You get that? Your old life is over!’

She sat down on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he thought she was about to tell him that her old life had ended back in Italy but instead, her voice sounding small, she said, ‘I had to kill him. I’m sorry.’

Lucas felt like the apology was aimed directly at him, rather than being the remorse of a passion murderer; she’d already become colder than that, like someone following a set of instructions in the avenger’s handbook with no sense of the implications.

‘You had to kill him? What about the three other people who died? What about the two-year-old boy in the hospital who now has no mother or grandmother? You had to kill them too?’ She looked shocked and began to say something but he preempted her. ‘Please, you’re not that stupid. You blow up a building, people die.’ She started to weep, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for her. He’d seen her cry before and it had left him pained, embarrassed because she’d been brought down by a love and loss he couldn’t have imagined. Now, though, she was crying for herself, and he suspected that those deaths in Budapest meant even less to her than they did to him.

Maybe a lot less, because at least they left him questioning his own part in bringing them about. If he’d killed Bruno for her, he’d have saved the others, one unjust death instead of four. That was a false logic, though. He could see that. The only way he could have avoided any of it was never to have helped her in the first place.

She looked up at him and said, ‘What will happen now?’

He wasn’t sure what she was asking about but he wanted to get on with the business at hand. ‘Dan’s checking out Larsen Grohl. Once he has something he’ll come and see you. I’ve paid him a retainer to see this through but if you want to use his services after that—and I do recommend him—you’ll have to discuss a financial arrangement. That’s everything.’

She looked confused, then accusatory as she said, ‘What, that’s it? I make one mistake and you’re turning your back on me?’

‘You didn’t make a mistake. You knew exactly what you were doing.’

‘And who are you to condemn me for it?’

‘I don’t condemn you. We’re just heading in different directions.’ He wanted to add something else, to offer some words of friendship, but he could think of nothing, and wanted simply to be away from her, from all of this.

‘Go then.’ Her eyes were full of bitterness. ‘Before you’re tainted.’

He nodded, but stopped at the door. ‘I wish you well, Ella, but if I ever see you again I’ll treat you as a threat, and if anyone makes an attempt on my life, I’ll come looking for you. Just so you know where we stand.’

She looked hurt, but she was dangerous now, and unpredictable. It was in her eyes, the deadness of loss replaced by a blinkered determination. He’d seen it in other people plenty of times, had extinguished it often enough, and he didn’t want to be there to see what it made of her. He had to leave now, while there might still be reasons
to
leave.

He took a cab across town to Dan’s flat and found him cooking something complicated, his gun within easy reach of the chopping board. It made him smile to see Dan, the ultimate postmodern hitman, every move, every outfit and lifestyle choice informed by the books he’d read and the films he’d seen.

There had always been fantasists, of course, but that was the difference with Dan, because he could actually do the business. That was what amused him, knowing that the placing of the gun was an act, a stylistic touch; that Dan wouldn’t have needed it to fight off any would-be assailants.

Lucas looked at the array of chopped ingredients and the meat he was expertly slicing, and said, ‘Expecting company?’

Dan shook his head and said, ‘This is how I relax. Want some?’

‘No, thanks. I’m flying back in a couple of hours.’

‘You’re really going for it?’

‘Yes. No more favors. The old Lucas is dead.’

Dan smiled and said, ‘Lucky for you, mate, he left you all his money.’ Lucas laughed. ‘So, how did she take it?’

‘Oh, you know.’ He stared at Dan’s nimble handiwork with the knife and after a few seconds he said, ‘Help her as far as you can, but take my advice: once this job is done, make your excuses.’

‘Think she’s gonna turn psycho or something?’

‘I don’t know, just a bad feeling. Truth is, it’s probably just me. I’m turning soft.’

Dan smiled again and said, ‘Well, you’re bloody old, mate.’

‘True. So long, Dan. I’ll save a place for you in the rest home.’

‘Reckon they need a cook?’

He walked a short way along the street before hailing a cab for Heathrow. On the way to the airport, he realized he was in a good mood, content, even happy. He’d removed himself from Ella Hatto before any lasting damage had been done and could look upon it all now as a useful reminder of why he wanted no more to do with this closed world.

He wanted to live like other people. In forty-two years he’d had only the briefest taste of what that was like. He didn’t even know if he had the necessary components to live like that, if he was too damaged. But he considered himself lucky, because he had a chance to find out. And as long as he was alive, it was never too late.

Chapter Seventeen

S
he’d been venturing less into the hotel’s public spaces, and even today she’d waited until they’d called up from the front desk to tell her he was here. He was in the lobby. She hadn’t seen him since that day with Novakovic but he was unmistakable in his black suit and shirt.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Fine, thanks. Let’s go through to the bar.’ She led him through and sat down.

The waiter approached with a smile and she said, ‘Mineral water, please, Malvern. Sparkling. Dan?’

He looked at his watch before saying, ‘I’ll have a Talisker, straight up.’ He smiled at Ella then. He looked too conspicuously attractive for his line of work. ‘Mainly here to say hello, touch base, that sort of thing.’

‘You
are
a hitman, aren’t you?’ He looked around but she already knew no one was within earshot.

‘That title’s a bit restrictive.’

‘You’ll kill the people I want you to kill?’

‘Oh yeah, no worries. I don’t want you thinking I’m a thug with a gun, that’s all.’

She smiled. ‘I don’t, but speaking of thugs, I need some security, minders.’

‘No you don’t. Minders are for celebrities. Anyway, you’re not in any danger, are you?’

‘I don’t know. I killed Bruno Brodsky. Lucas told me I should start watching my back.’

‘Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s just his way of saying you should be careful who you kill.’

She took in what he’d said, feeling cheated and angry, thinking Lucas had used Brodsky as an excuse. She realized then that he’d acted on principle, and that was harder to take. Hers was a just cause and yet she was being shunned by a man whose life had been littered with unimaginable violence.

‘What’s the problem with Lucas?’

‘He’s run his course, that’s all. He wants out.’

The waiter came with the drinks. Dan put his nose into the glass and breathed in deeply, looking intoxicated by the smell alone when he surfaced. He took a sip then and said, ‘Wanna hear a story about how good Lucas was in his day?’

‘Okay.’

‘Right. About six years ago, Lucas got a contract on a guy called Cheval, or Chavanne. Chavanne, that’s it. Now he’d done a bit of work with Chavanne, liked him, so he called to say he was on his way, give him a chance to put his house in order. Chavanne asked if there was any way out, Lucas told him there wasn’t, Chavanne thanks him for the call. Then he takes a bucket-load of pills.’

‘Why didn’t he run?’

‘Because he knew Lucas would find him. And Lucas, cocky bastard, knew that too—that’s why he called.’ He took another sip of his drink. ‘Here’s the best bit, though. Whether Chavanne didn’t wanna do Lucas out of his fee, who knows, but he left a note saying something along the lines of, ‘L is coming. I’m a dead man. This is the better way out,’ that kind of thing. The French papers got a hold of it and loved it. Who was this mysterious L who could instill so much fear that a man would kill himself rather than face him? That was how good Lucas was—so good he didn’t even have to do anything. No wonder he turned so bloody existential.’

‘That’s an interesting story.’ She wondered if it was just that—a story, like the ones that Brodsky and Lucas had told her.

She didn’t have any way of knowing what was true, who could be trusted, who were her enemies. But she had to put her faith in someone and now that person was Dan, who’d been chosen by Lucas, who’d been chosen by her father, and even his whole life had been a lie to her. ‘What have you found out?’

‘Nothing much yet but I’m tracking a couple of potential contacts. That’s the problem for companies like Larsen Grohl: they have to employ people, and people are bloody unreliable. Give me another week or two and I’ll have something.’

‘Okay.’ She took a token sip from her drink and got up to leave. He looked taken aback that she was going already but she didn’t want to get to know him, not even as well as she’d known Lucas. ‘Please, stay and finish your drink.’

She signed the bill and walked back out into the lobby. She’d almost reached the elevator when she heard her name called behind her. It startled her, a flashback, but even when she identified the voice she felt uneasy. She turned to see him walking towards her.

‘Simon. What brings you here?’

‘Oh, just thought I’d stop by. Haven’t seen you in a few days.’

She glanced over to the entrance of the bar, smiling as she said, ‘Good. Shall we have coffee in the Thames Foyer? I’m growing tired of the bar.’

He laughed and as they walked, he said, ‘Are you okay? You look . . . I don’t know.’

‘I’m fine. You calling my name like that spooked me, that’s all. The gunman in Florence, he called out my name.’

‘Oh, God, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ They sat and had coffee and as they talked, she became more convinced that he had to be innocent, and was even tempted to ask him about Larsen Grohl, backing off only because she didn’t want him to think she’d been snooping around behind his back.

Even so, he seemed to pick up that something was wrong and asked her a couple of times if she was sure she was okay, saying finally, ‘You know, you’ve been living in a hotel for too long, that’s what it is. Bound to get you down, living in a place like this.’

‘Simon, there’s nothing wrong with me, honestly. And believe me, this is a great place to live.’

‘I’d still be happier if you came home and lived with us, just until you get a place of your own.’ He stood to leave, but said casually, ‘I called by on . . . Was it Tuesday? Thursday? They said you’d gone away for a couple of days.’

A silent alarm sounded but it was too late. She was panicked because she hadn’t covered her tracks, and more so because she couldn’t work out whether his inquiry was innocuous or a trap. Caught out in the open, she smiled a little and told him the truth.

‘I went to Budapest.’ Simon’s smile dropped and she seized the initiative, saying, ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

‘No, not at all. Did you go alone?’

‘Yeah. Chris and I were gonna go there during the summer. I just decided to go on a whim. To be honest, I shouldn’t have bothered.’

He nodded, but in some subtle way she sensed that he didn’t believe her.

She was trying to read him but suddenly he seemed relaxed again as he said, ‘Traveling alone’s never much fun.’ He smiled. ‘This week’s project—get out there and get a boyfriend!’ He kissed her on the cheek and left.

She strolled back through the lobby, troubled by the way Simon had managed to walk right up behind her without her noticing. She went to the reception desk and arranged to be moved into a suite that afternoon; from now on, she’d talk business behind closed doors.

She started counting the days then, waiting for Dan to get in touch. But a couple of days after moving into the suite, reception called and told her there was someone to see her, a Miss Welsh. Ella tried to sound light-hearted as she asked them to send her up, as if Vicky Welsh were an old friend. She didn’t want the hotel staff knowing that she was being visited by the police.

It was bad timing, too. She guessed the investigation had finally unearthed something, and a few weeks before, she would have been grateful for that, but it seemed like an irrelevance now. Whatever the breakthrough, she wouldn’t let it get in the way of what she was doing.

To Ella’s relief, Vicky Welsh was wearing a trouser suit and looked more like a businesswoman than a policewoman. She was friendly, refused the offer of a drink, commented on the room, asked Ella how she’d been.

But as she sat down, she said, ‘I just wanted to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind. Just on an informal basis.’

‘Of course.’ She took out a notebook and Ella said, ‘You did say informal?’

‘Yes, informal in the legal sense. I just need to clarify some facts.’

Ella’s thoughts were struggling to catch up—there hadn’t been a breakthrough: she was being questioned.

‘Well, I’m more than happy to help if I can.’ The sound of her own words grated; she was beginning to sound like Simon.

Vicky Welsh gave a pinched smile. ‘Let me see. I understand you went to Budapest last week?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Business or pleasure?’

‘Pleasure.’ Ella was suddenly conscious of the muscles in her face, of the blood prickling beneath the surface of her skin. ‘Uh, it was one of the places we were gonna go in the summer. So I went.’

‘Does the name Bruno Brodsky mean anything to you?’

Ella shook her head. Vicky Welsh stared at her, the scrutiny unnerving her further.

‘I’m not sure I follow what’s going on here. I assumed this was about my family. If it isn’t, perhaps you should tell me what it
is
about.’

Vicky Welsh nodded, but wrote something else in her notebook before responding. ‘Maybe it is about your family. Stephen Lucas was staying in the same hotel in Budapest at the same time as you. I take it you’ve heard of
him
?’

Ella could tell from her face and from the tone of the question that it was pointless denying it. Having seen how spineless Chris was, she guessed he’d probably given them Lucas’s name right at the start.

‘Yeah, I met Lucas while I was there. He lives in Europe; it seemed like a good opportunity to catch up, thank him.’ She was feeling more combative now, and sensed her guilt was less physically manifest as a result. ‘And yes, I lied about not knowing his name the last time I saw you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he asked me to. The man saved my life.’

Vicky Welsh nodded and looked momentarily sympathetic, but quickly reverted to business. ‘Stephen Lucas knew Bruno Brodsky, and Brodsky was a fixer, the kind of person who could have arranged the hit on your family. It seems a huge coincidence, then, that during the flying visit you and Lucas made to Budapest, Bruno Brodsky was killed in a huge gas explosion.’

‘I told you, I don’t know anyone called Bruno Brodsky.’ She couldn’t imagine they had anything more than the circumstantial evidence of her being in Budapest with Lucas, and that made her bolder. ‘You’ve already said that Lucas knew him, and I assume you know something about Lucas’s background. So why don’t you go and speak to him?’

‘As I said, this isn’t a formal inquiry.’ She looked uncomfortable and clearly didn’t want to answer the question. It made Ella wonder if Lucas was protected in some way. ‘However, I have to warn you, Ella, this and other matters are being investigated vigorously. You may or may not be aware of it, but some of the people around you have a questionable relationship with the law—you’d do well not to be too influenced by them.’

‘Don’t worry; I’m not being influenced by anybody.’

Vicky Welsh nodded, but seemed disappointed.

It was only when she was left alone again that Ella’s nerves ran wild. She started to sweat, her heart beating erratically. It wasn’t even that she was afraid of being caught, but she felt sick with fear at the prospect of them getting to her before her job was done.

Everything seemed to be closing in on her. If the police knew about Budapest, others would know too, the kind of people Lucas had warned her about. Maybe even Simon was beginning to suspect her of something. And she couldn’t understand what was taking Dan so long. She wanted him to be as conscious as she was that time was running out.