Casanova (30 page)

I listened without interrupting. When Xing had finished the explanation of her Houdini like escape from seemingly certain death, I realised I didn’t have a response. The reason I didn’t have a response was that I wasn’t surprised. It was typical of her. I couldn’t think how anyone else could have been quick enough to avoid the Range Rover and certainly not me.

‘We have to decide what we’re going to do,’ I said. We hadn’t planned for this and the situation we now found ourselves in was fluid, dangerous and complicated.

Then I said, ‘Why didn’t they just drive up and shoot you through the window?’

Xing shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘They were scared,’ Penny said. Her soft voice surprised Xing who looked down at the girl. Her tears had stopped again.

‘...scared?’ Xing asked.

‘Yes, they were talking about you from the moment they got the phone call.’ Penny looked up at Xing. ‘You are Mosquito, aren’t you?’

Xing nodded.

‘They knew about things you had done, stories they had heard. They told each other about them. When they saw you standing by the wall they didn’t want to drive any closer. They thought you might see them coming as though you had special powers. They decided to ram you and squash you against the wall. One of them said that they would become famous as the men who squashed Mosquito.’ Penny paused and we were silent. ‘I screamed,’ she said. ‘Did you hear me?’

Xing shook her head and I noticed a very faint smile skip over her lips.

‘Who called them?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘Why were you there?’

‘They had taken me with them to a meeting with an American to translate. We were on our way home when the call came.’

Xing and I looked at each other.

‘Someone knew you had left the hotel and knew where you were,’ I said.

‘Why do you think it’s the ducklings and Jemima?’ Xing asked.

‘Who else could it be?’

‘Did you accuse Jemima?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘What did he say?’

‘He denied it and then he ran away.’

‘You frightened him,’ Xing said.

I didn’t answer.

‘I don’t think it is the ducklings,’ she said. ‘They work for London and rely on the money. Why would they betray you and jeopardise that? And Jemima couldn’t have done it alone.’

I realised that she might be right. I noticed Penny was listening intently. The talking was therapy for her shock and fear, plus the fact that she had met me before helped too.

‘My father tracks me,’ she said. We both looked at her. Then she pulled out her phone, checked the screen and then held it up for us to see.

I met Xing’s eyes and could tell we were thinking the exact same thing. At that moment, someone tapped on the window of the passenger side door. We all looked in unison. Xing’s Glock appeared from nowhere pointing at the door and I realised she had been holding it ready the whole time. A person’s face appeared against the glass, peering in and I recognised who it was. I dropped the window a fraction and then said, ‘Are you alone?’

‘Yes, I’m alone,’ replied the meek voice.

Xing lowered her Glock and said, ‘Let him in.’

It was Jemima.

28

TUESDAY, 00:00—02:00

Jemima sat in the passenger seat like a schoolboy caught playing truant. He fidgeted awkwardly not sure what to say. Xing watched him closely. Jemima’s eyes moved between the two of us. Eventually, they settled on Penelope and he smiled weakly.

‘This is Penny,’ I said by way of introduction. ‘She’s Almada’s daughter. This is Jemima.’

‘How do you do,’ Jemima said.

Penny stared at him. ‘Hello,’ she said.

Jemima turned to me. ‘How did...I mean, where did...’ He searched for the words. ‘...Penny...’

‘Where did Penny come from?’ I said, helping him out.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘That doesn’t matter. How did you find us?’ I asked.

‘The taxi is fitted with a tracker,’ he explained. ‘I traced it using my phone.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘I came in the other taxi. One of the ducklings brought me. He’s parked just over there.’

My brain had started to whir like a clockwork toy that had been over wound. I concentrated and forced myself to focus on one thing at a time.

Jemima was obviously determined to spoil my self-help plan because he said, ‘I’m sorry I ran away, I panicked, it was unforgiveable but when you threatened me with...’ His eyes flicked to Xing before returning to me. ‘...well, let’s just say I felt fear and took flight.’

I couldn’t worry about Jemima. Time pressed on my thought patterns and made them rush like a chased hare. I knew that if Missouri had the capability to track his daughter’s phone then he could show up at any time. I had to make the initial contact, then dispose of the phone and avoid spooking Penny, and all at the same time and with an urgency that wasn’t obvious.

I said to Jemima, ‘I understand and Xing agrees. We can talk about it later.’ He seemed surprised and relieved. I turned to Penny and said, ‘I think you should call your father to tell him you’re safe. I’d like to talk to him as well to discuss the arrangements for getting you home safely.’

Penny agreed to my suggestion and used her phone to make the call. We waited in silence. Xing’s eyes settled on my face. I attempted a positive reaction. Her look never altered as if she was watching something she had seen before. Then someone answered the call and we listened as Penny talked. She spoke in Portuguese.

While she spoke, I turned to Jemima. ‘We need somewhere to stay, somewhere suitable, a place where we can disappear until the deal with Missouri is completed.’

He didn’t answer.

‘My father will talk to you,’ Penny said.

I turned back to her. She was holding out her phone for me. ‘Does he speak English?’ I asked as I took the phone from her.

‘Yes, sort of,’ she said. ‘Do you speak Portuguese?’

‘...some Spanish,’ I said.

‘I speak Portuguese,’ Xing said.

‘...so do I,’ said Jemima.

I placed the phone to my ear and said, ‘Hello.’

A man’s voice that was gruff and dry like a thirsty toad asked, ‘What is your name?’

I said, ‘Oigan, es fácil. Devolver el inglés dinero. ¿Entiendes?’

The man was silent. Then he said, ‘I understand.
How?’

‘Voy a llamar de nuevo.’

‘That’s Spanish.’ Jemima whispered loudly. ‘Does he understand you?’

‘What is your name?’ the man asked again.

‘That’s not important,’ I said. ‘Give back the money and everything is okay.’

‘...and Mosquito?’ he asked.

‘I will ask her.’

I ended the call. All three of them were looking at me. I had to make a decision about Penny. Did I hold her by force or talk to her, explain and hope she would agree to help. It was a difficult judgment to make. She had witnessed two men she knew well shot dead, but the woman who had killed them was sitting beside her and she didn’t seem frightened. In fact, it appeared there was some kind of developing connection between them. The three faces were still staring at me. The seconds trickled away and the silence stretched. I made my decision.

‘Penny,’ I said, ‘I need your help.’ I thought I noticed her face brighten a little but it may just have been the lights from the passing traffic. ‘We don’t have much time,’ I told her. ‘I’m going to explain why I’m here and why I need your help.’ This time I was certain her face brightened and it wasn’t from the lights. ‘Your father has a large amount of money that belongs to a British bank. My job is to get it back.’

‘How did he get the money?’ she asked.

I didn’t have time to get into a long discussion but equally I needed her on my side.

‘He came about it by chance. It was in a bank account when he took over. It was there from a previous business deal.’

She was thinking.

‘The money isn’t his,’ I said. ‘He should give it back.’

‘Why doesn’t he?’

‘He wants to keep it. It’s a lot of money.’ I paused and tried to read her expression in the grainy street light that fell across one side of her face. ‘My idea is to exchange you for the money.’

Penny’s eyes widened. ‘...like a hostage,’ she said.

‘No harm will come to you,’ I said. ‘I give you my word.’

Before she could respond, the light from a powerful torch interrupted us. It shone through the driver’s door window. Three loud taps on the glass followed. I turned rapidly and Xing produced her Glock again. Peering through the glass, I saw the figure of a man. His face came close to the window and I saw he wore a cap. He spoke loudly through the glass in Cantonese.

‘He’s a policeman,’ Xing said. ‘He wants you to lower the window.’

How had they found us? It was unlikely that an eyewitness would have had time to give any details. Perhaps a patrol officer had heard about the shooting on his radio. I had to make a decision. I turned and spoke rapidly to Xing.

‘Let’s just see what he wants. He wouldn’t casually knock on the window if he knew who we were, would he?’

Xing shrugged.

My finger found the button. The motor whirred and the window dropped. The police officer stared in. He spoke abruptly to me in Cantonese. I did my best to look respectful and said, ‘Do you speak English?’ He frowned and looked past me to see who else was in the taxi. I took the opportunity to do the same. Standing behind him was a policewoman. She was dressed the same with a cap and shirt buttoned uniform. Around their waists, they both carried batons and holstered pistols. They also had radios fixed to their belts. They were beat cops.

‘You cannot park here,’ he said. His Chinese accent was heavy. He said it as if I should know. ‘Show me your licence,’ he said.

My licence—I was in trouble. Jemima leaned across me, smiled briefly and said something to him in Cantonese. He then passed something over. ‘That’s my licence,’ he whispered to me. The police officer shone his torch on the document and scanned it briefly before handing it back. He spoke to Jemima in Cantonese. Jemima’s smile left his face. Then he attempted an explanation. I could almost feel Xing’s Glock rising behind me. I turned in my seat and reassured her with my eyes. I wanted to get out of this without drawing attention to us and definitely without leaving two dead cops on the street. ‘He wants to know why you’re driving when I have the taxi licence,’ Jemima said.

I bet he did. Before we could discuss this quandary, the female police officer took a radio message and called her partner over. He turned away from us. Immediately, a debate started inside the taxi as to what we should do. Oddly, even Penny voiced an opinion. Although I listened to what they said, I didn’t take my eyes from the police officers. They appeared to be discussing something important. When the man turned back towards me, I realised what it was. Both he and his partner pulled their guns and pointed them at my head.

‘Get out of the taxi,’ he said.

The radio message had obviously told them about the shooting and that a taxi was involved. They weren’t going to take any chances.

‘Everybody, stay inside and don’t do anything. I can handle this.’

I opened the car door, stepped out and raised my hands. I did my best to look non-threatening. The female officer was talking on her radio again. Presumably, requesting back up. I had to act immediately. What should I do? It was late and dark but there was still traffic and pedestrians about. My choices appeared limited to one. It would mean hurting them but that was better than a bullet each.

I took a slow step forward, maintaining my friendly expression. The policeman stepped towards me, which was what I wanted.

‘Turn around,’ he said. ‘Put your hands on the vehicle.’

I began to turn. He came right up behind me with his gun held level with my shoulders. The speed and force of my attack was unexpected. He lost his balance almost immediately. My right hand twisted his wrist and my left hand gripped his neck. His torso bent and he rocked backwards. I pushed him hard and fast. His arm was close to breaking and my fingers closed his windpipe. The female officer reacted but the distance was just a few feet and we reached her before she had time to defend the attack. The contact was hard. I used the male officer’s body to crash into her. Our momentum and weight was enough to knock her down. It gave me the seconds I needed to drop the man with a stamp on his calf and then a scything kick to his jaw. She lifted her gun but I had already reached her. Looking into her eyes, I don’t think she would have fired it anyway. I twisted her wrist violently and she screamed and dropped the gun.

‘Stay down,’ I said. She didn’t move.

I collected both guns and was back in the taxi inside six seconds. Jemima had moved into the driver’s seat. The engine was still running. As the passenger door shut behind me, he sped the taxi away. Penny it was who spoke first.

‘Wow,’ she said, ‘how did you learn to fight like that?’

I treated it as a rhetorical question and didn’t answer. Xing didn’t see it that way. ‘He’s a trained, elite soldier,’ she said, ‘British Special Forces; they use an adapted form of jujitsu. It’s very effective.’

 Penny stared at me in silence. Xing’s eyes were black and shiny. I turned to Jemima. ‘Where are we going?’ I said.

‘I thought we should hurry to the garage and get the taxi out of sight in case the police have the registration details,’ he said.

Jemima was right. We couldn’t continue to use the taxi. The realisation that we didn’t have a plan thumped inside my chest. I forced myself to concentrate.

‘What’s at the garage?’ I asked. ‘Can we stay there while we work out what to do?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. The other taxi is behind us,’ Jemima said. ‘We can still use that one.’

I turned to look at Penny. She was still staring at me.

‘Penny, can I see your phone again, please?’ I asked.

She passed it over to me. I switched it off, lowered the window and threw it out.

‘No,’ she yelled. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘To stop your father from tracking us,’ I said.

An unhappy frown now accompanied her stare.

We arrived at the garage without incident.

I recognised the tyre sign hanging above the entrance and the oily black streaks on the double doors.