Portrait Of An Assassin - Richard Godwin Read online

They hid behind their shield of legitimacy like thieves in a security van. Interestingly, the Mafia minimised that kind of risk. And I didn’t do collateral damage.

  XV

  The next morning I turned up at the offices of United Investments bright and early.

  I’d been doing some thinking which was not strictly part of my remit, but I was getting sick of the sound of Morris’s voice and the sight of Clarkson’s narrow eyes. I’d started to want something more than this and I’d known it for some time.

  I knew Lauren was at risk and I didn’t like the sight of casualties.

  She was working on her own and let me in.

  “He’s not here,” she said. “I’m not expecting him, either.”

  “I haven’t come to see him.”

  “Oh?”

  “You know what you were saying yesterday?” She looked blankly at me. “About wanting to quit?”

  “Oh that.”

  “Well I might just be able to help.”

  “How?”

  “You want to leave?”

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “I’d walk tomorrow if I could find something better.”

  “Then I think I have a job for you. Here’s my number. I want you to call me if anything else happens.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like that bruise.”

  She looked worried.

  “All right, but …”

  “Can I have a number to call you on?”

  “This is confidential.”

  “Strictly between us.”

  She scribbled it on a piece of paper and I left.

  The clock was ticking.

  Back at my hotel I called Clarkson.

  “The money’ll be through within twenty–four hours,” I said.

  “Good. About time. We need to meet again.”

  “I’ll come round to your hotel tomorrow at one.”

  I hung up and dialled Morris.

  “We’re nearly there. I need something from you.”

  “What?”

  “A job for a woman called Lauren Smiles.”

  “This isn’t an employment agency,” he said.

  “Look, this is more complicated than you let on. There is a totally innocent party caught up in this, a woman’s life is at risk. Does the British government sacrifice its own that easily?”

  There was long pause as he reflected on the implication of what I’d said.

  “Government?”

  “Look, I don’t care who you’re working for, but I know a spook when I see one.”

  “Who I represent is not the issue. We’ve paid you to–.”

  “I am not in the habit of watching innocent people get caught up in crossfire. This situation is far more complex than you’ve let on. If you want me to carry out the remit, you do this. The money’s barely enough to guarantee success.”

  There was silence at the other end.

  “Who is she?”

  “Works for Spengler. She’s going to get killed if I don’t get her out of here. Are you spooks less moral than a hitman?”

  “What does she do?”

  “PA. She needs to be placed by the end of the month in a job paying at least 150K. You have her details. I need confirmation and all the paperwork fast.”

  I figured the 150K would please her.

  ***

  I spent the next day talking through the final details of the plan with Clarkson. He wanted the money through and I just wanted him dead.

  We were putting the finishing touches on the deal and I wanted him relaxed for the hit.

  The last thing I needed was a suspicious mercenary on the prowl.

  I thought he looked a little edgy when I left, like his mind was on something else.

  I went back to my hotel and told Morris I was ready for the hit.

  “Good.”

  “Have you sorted out the job?”

  “It’s done. I’ll e–mail the details through.”

  “Include a contract.”

  I wanted to have something solid to present to her.

  A few hours later the phone went.

  A voice I hardly recognised just said my name. Then silence.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Lauren.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No. Could you come? I’m at the office.”

  I went straight there and found her nursing a bleeding nose. Her tights were torn and she was shaking.

  I took her back to her hotel, gave her a brandy and heard how Clarkson had gone there as she was finishing for the day and tried to rape her.

  “If it hadn’t been for these,” she said, pointing at her heels, “He’d have done it. I kicked him hard enough to knock his balls off and I hope I did.”

  “You’re in a totally unacceptable position as an employee of a very wealthy company, Lauren. This can’t carry on.”

  “I know. I don’t want to go back there.”

  She started to shake again.

  “Maybe you don’t have to.”

  She didn’t really register my last comment.

  I made sure she was okay. She was tough. Apart from a few bruises and a bloody nose, nothing broken. But I wanted her out of there.

  I’d never forgotten the sight of some innocent bystanders blown apart by an errant army bomb. Shopping and school satchels lay scattered among the debris. Tissue fragments and limbs lay useless as sweet wrappers, heads rocked to stasis in pools of blood. I was going to make sure I only had one memory like that.

  I left her to sleep and said I’d call in the morning.

  Back at my hotel, I rang Morris.

  “One more thing.”

  “What now?”

  “I need two tickets out of here for four tomorrow.”

  “Let me guess, names of Carmichael and Smiles.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Travelling together?”

  “You got it.”

  ***

  The next morning I packed my bags and called Lauren.

  Her voice was croaky.

  “This is early.”

  My watch said seven o’clock.

  “I need you to go to the office now. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  “Look, what is going on?”

  “I’ll tell you everything when I see you.”

  Reluctantly, she agreed.

  I got there just before her.

  She looked tired and was still shaking. The makeup was heavier.

  “I hope this is good, Lawrence.”

  “It is. I need to use your computer.”

  She showed me into the office where Clarkson and I had conducted our business and I downloaded what Morris had sent.

  It was all there, a job contract with good perks with a city company, starting date, two weeks’ time. All Lauren needed to do was sign.

  She sat there for a while taking it in, then looked around the room and said:

  “Is this for real?”

  “Totally.”

  I could see she was still in shock.

  “150K? The job sounds amazing.”

  “All you need to do is to accept the offer.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable leaving like this.”

  “You could take Global to a tribunal. Do you want to find yourself in another situation like last night? What’s it going to be next? He’ll try again. Your boss has no concern for your well–being, Lauren.” She looked at the contract again. “This is not a situation you want to be involved with any more.”

  “No. I don’t. Easy as that? And I’m in another job?”

  “Easy as that. People pay good money for your skills, and treat you right.”

  “I don’t know how you’ve arranged this.”

  “Let’s just say I have a wide experience of recruitment.”

  I could see her hesitating, and as she looked about the office I saw her eyes harden at the memory of what had happened to her there.

  “Hand me a pen.”


  “I have two tickets to London for this afternoon.”

  “Why so quick?”

  “Why wait? I know Clarkson. Do you really want to stay on here?”

  “No. I could hardly bring myself to come in this morning. I have things to finish off. I’ll work here until twelve.”

  “We leave for the airport at two–thirty. See you at your hotel.”

  Back at the Intercontinental I got the weapon ready. Then I went to see Clarkson.

  ***

  At exactly one o’clock I knocked on his door.

  I got there just in time.

  “I’ve just checked the account and the money’s not through,” he said. “I’m beginning to doubt you.”

  “There’s got to be a perfectly simple explanation. You know my credentials.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Have you checked with Sinclair?”

  “I’m just about to phone him.”

  “Look, if I was going to do a runner, I wouldn’t have turned up here, would I?”

  “I’m not talking about you doing a runner, Carmichael.”

  “Let me call my people and check.”

  “No. Sit down, I’m calling Spengler.”

  There was no more time.

  As he turned his back to pick up the phone, I pulled out the knife.

  I slipped it around his neck and severed the jugular first time. There was a brief moment when he reached out behind him and then pushed his hands up to his throat.

  He turned round, rage and shock in his eyes. He was trying to stem the flow of blood which was spraying out from between his fingers like a shower head.

  He ran into the bathroom, his shirt dripping. I knew he didn’t have long.

  He fumbled inside the cabinet for a gun and as he touched the metal I turned him round and stabbed him through the heart.

  I left the blade in for a while before removing and cleaning it.

  By the time I left he was dead.

  I took the files and placed the Do Not Disturb sign over his door.

  Then I went back to my hotel.

  ***

  The files had almost everything I needed. Just the security numbers were missing.

  I phoned Lauren.

  “You said half two.”

  “I know. I just need something from the office.”

  “What?”

  “Some papers I must have left there earlier.”

  “I can’t go back. I’m packing.”

  “You still got your keys?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can pick them up from you.”

  “Okay.”

  I paid my bill and left with the last of my belongings.

  Dodging the traffic, I got to the offices of United Investments at two o’clock.

  It didn’t take me long to hack into the files and get everything I needed. I e–mailed it all through to Morris. Then I downloaded the virus onto Global Nexus’s software.

  I saw some interesting things they didn’t want me to know about. The files contained enough data to bring the government down: a web of corruption that went right to the top. This was all about self–protection and I wasn’t about to become the fall guy. I took the opportunity to e–mail it through to myself. When I’d finished I had just enough time to make our flight.

  Morris called me.

  He’d obviously checked his e–mails.

  “Good work,” he said. “The hit’s complete?”

  “It’s done.”

  We made it with enough time to check in and I watched as Lauren boarded the plane that would take her to her new life.

  XVI

  Landing back in London brought a sense of relief and also new problems.

  I realised Lauren was still at risk from Spengler.

  I dropped her back at her flat. It had an unlived–in feel and was fairly basic.

  She looked shaky and was coming out of the daze of her shock.

  “Did I mention your new boss has a couple of flats sitting empty near to the offices?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll have a long journey if you stay here.”

  I could see in her face she was working things out for herself.

  “Are you suggesting I leave this fantastic, homey place? Can’t you see how much TLC I’ve put into it? It’s so Candy Brothers.”

  “Do you fancy taking a look at the flats?”

  She smiled wryly.

  “You going to take care of me, Lawrence?”

  We had a couple of drinks and then I left.

  ***

  The next morning I dialled Morris.

  “She’s still in danger, and with the job done, they’re going to come after her.”

  “We’re not running a hotel service.”

  “I need you to find her a place near to her new job. She’s renting, it shouldn’t be hard.”

  There was a sigh at the other end of the line.

  “I’ll put someone onto it.”

  He called me back later that afternoon.

  “I’ve found you two flats in central London. Affordable, I imagine, with her salary. I’ll send you the details through.”

  “Have you checked the files I sent?”

  “Yes. It’s all there. We’re moving on it. You did a good job.”

  “And my fee?”

  “Will be sent through by the end of the week.”

  I checked my emails and knew instantly someone had been trying to hack in. But I have firewalls on firewalls.

  And what it confirmed is I’d been right all along.

  Right to mistrust Morris. Right to get Lauren out of there. This job was a pile of explosives sitting in a shopping mall with two guys wrestling for the switch.

  Morris was waist deep in shit.

  His boss, whoever he was, wanted Spengler and Clarkson out of the way because of what they had on him. But first he wanted the information taken out of circulation.

  As Martoni said, data is the new gold.

  Well I had the bullion staring back at me from my computer screen and it showed a story that would set the papers alight. A scoop a young journalist could retire on.

  The British government was trading with the enemy to hide the national debt and someone very high up was pulling Morris’s wires.

  That name was missing.

  The more senior secret service personnel needed investigating, but the political connections were definitely there.

  Morris’s own CV was disguised: he was far better placed in intelligence than the credentials the information I had showed.

  I needed help, and knew it wouldn’t be long before I called Martoni.

  ***

  I took Lauren flat viewing.

  She liked the second one and we put a deposit down on the spot.

  She could move in immediately.

  The next day I helped her pack her things up.

  She was looking edgy and had been drinking.

  “I’m in the middle of something aren’t I?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “This is all moving too fast.”

  “You really want to stay here?”

  She’d obviously worked a lot out for herself, but I could sense questions lurking.

  I loaded everything onto the van and moved her in myself. When I left her, she was a little drunk, and a little happier.

  ***

  I got a call from Morris the following morning.

  “Someone spotted you.”

  “When?”

  “Leaving Clarkson’s room.”

  I thought for a moment. There were no staff around when I left and I’m always vigilant. I hadn’t seen anyone, so if I was seen, then I must have been followed.

  “Who?”

  “One of Spengler’s smurfs. We’re looking into it. They knew Clarkson was dead minutes after you left. And you’re right, they’re after the girl. You were lucky to get out of there.”

  Either this was a cover for what he’d got planned for me
, or a warning, since he still wanted me alive. Either way I wasn’t going to take any risks.

  If it was the second, then Clarkson must have started asking questions about me before I got there. I’d always thought the money could let me down.

  I thought through my movements and realised just how much danger Lauren was in.

  I called her, but got her voicemail.

  “It’s Lawrence. Don’t go out, don’t go anywhere, I’m coming straight round.”

  I waited outside for an hour before she turned up.

  Finally I saw her at the end of the street with some shopping.

  “Hello stranger.”

  “I’ve left a message for you.”

  “My phone’s switched off. What’s the problem?”

  Not wanting to reveal too much, I explained that Spengler was a ruthless individual who didn’t like his staff deserting him for a better job.

  “That’s it? Tell me something I don’t know. He was a total bastard. Who cares? What can he do?”

  “He’s got a track record of roughing people up if they get on the wrong side of him.”

  “How come you know so much about him?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been checking him out.”

  “Well, he’s history. If he wants to take me to a tribunal, then I’ll gladly tell them about all his sexual harassments. Rape never came as part of my job description. There are a lot of female staff –.”

  “Have you noticed anyone hanging around?”

  “Like who?”

  “Someone following you.”

  “Only you. Look, this is getting a little bit spooky.”

  She was panicking.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m here to help. I figured you could do with a spare set of hands.”

  “True.”

  “So, come on, what can I do?”

  “Help me unpack.”

  I spent the rest of the day helping her settle in.

  Over a glass of wine later she thanked me.

  “I like the flat. And I didn’t mean anything by it, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “Only you following me. I kind of like it.”

  I drove away that evening knowing they wouldn’t let things slide that easily.

  As I was parking my phone rang. It was Morris.

  “You were seen by a guy called Jonas Hinch. He works for Spengler and served in the Paras with Clarkson. They don’t know who you are, but they’re after you.”