Rocks (13 page)

He paused and looked away from Hayden for a moment, rolling his eyes upwards as though trying to remember something. “There was a song that you British used to sing,” he said quietly as though speaking to himself but loud enough for Hayden to hear. “It was on the radio sometimes when I was very young, though I think it was old even then. Something to do with the war.”

He began to whistle, and Hayden stared at him in confusion and terror, wondering what on earth he was talking about. Then a cold, sick feeling began to spread over him as he recognised the tune.

“Yes, that was it,” Lars continued, still pretending to ignore the naked man beside him. “A funny little song, don’t you think?” He began to sing
—a tuneless, flat noise. “‘Hitler, has only got one ball, the other, is in the Albert hall. His mother, the silly bugger, cut it off when he was only small.’”

Lars whistled a few more bars of the tune and then his face become stony once more as he turned to Hayden. “Now, Mister Carter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you tell me what I want to know before I go Nazi on your balls?”

“She took two keys! Keys to lockers!”

“Ah, very good Mister Carter. Now we are getting somewhere.” Lars’s smile was thin and cruel, but was replaced almost immediately by a frown. “Two?” he asked.

“The first was where she hid the Wallenstein, but the second was mine.”

Lars smiled again. Hayden almost
preferred it when he frowned. “Now, where are these keys for?”

“You don’t have to hurt me, I’ll tell you.”

The other man let his hand rest on Hayden’s thigh, an almost gentle gesture. “You’re right. I don’t
have
to hurt you. I’ve never
had
to hurt anyone, but that’s not stopped me. Now, please, just answer my question.”

“One was for a locker at Heathrow
—that was hers. Mine was at Euston.”

“Very good. You see how easy it is?
Now, my next question. When you met Maarten, you took something from him. A phone. I hope that you still have it.”

“What?” Hayden was utterly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh dear.” Lars looked very grave and moved his other hand, the one holding the knife, closer to Hayden’s crotch. “You were doing so well, but now you slip back into this... resistance again. It won’t do you any good.” He drew the edge of the blade across Hayden’s thigh, causing a thin line of blood to appear.

“In the spare bedroom!” Hayden yelled, the muscles in his arm straining as he yanked his head up away from the mattress. “There’s a jacket hanging in the wardrobe there
—dark grey. You’ll find it in the inside pocket!”

A slow smile spread across Lars’s face, in its own way even more dreadful than when he looked at Hayden with that dead, stony expression. He patted Hayden on the thigh, an almost paternal gesture, as though to congratulate a wayward child. “There,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bending forward, he came close to Hayden’s face, causing the other man to turn away his head in fear. “Mind you,” he whispered, “if I find you’re lying to me, I’ll come back in here and unlike Misses Hitler I won’t stop at just the one.”

Hayden did not look around when Lars left the bedroom, but instead began to yank hard at the cuffs which locked him in place. His wrist was burning with pain but the adrenaline in his body meant that he barely felt it any more. He was still struggling when Lars returned, a broad grin on his face. In his hand he held up Maarten’s mobile phone.

“Very good, Mister Carter, very good indeed. You see, we’re making
excellent progress here. Who knows, maybe I won’t even need to hurt you.”

Hope flared in Hayden’s chest and he looked desperately at the other man who sat down on a chair at the foot of the bed.

“You’ll let me go?”

Lars glanced up from where he was sitting, pausing as he jabbed the phone’s screen. “I didn’t say that. But I might let you get dressed before I kill you, just to allow you to die with some dignity.” As though he had just answered some passing remark about the weather, he returned his attention to the mobile.

“Ah! Very good!” Without looking at Hayden he continued: “You have some very interesting materials in your apartment. If time was not of the essence, Mister Carter, I would be happy for you to explain me the purpose of some of them. But, unfortunately, we do not have time—such is the lot of men, I’m afraid. We are placed on this earth but a short period before we pass on to a better place.” His eyes flashed up at Hayden and he smiled evilly. “For some of us, our time is shorter than for others.”

Hayden said nothing but turned his face towards the ceiling. Please don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!
he repeated silently. When Lars came and sat on the bed it made him jump.

“I know very little about you, Mister Carter, unlike Ms Pietersen. However, I do know enough to realise that you are the type of man who would be able to hack something as simple as this phone.”

Hayden stared at him blankly, barely understanding anything that was said.

“As such, you will realise that our mutual acquaintance, Maarten Kropp did not trust Ms Pietersen as much as she thought. He installed a tracker on this device, but perhaps you already know that.” Hayden said nothing: he suddenly felt as though any information he revealed now could be extremely dangerous. Lars watched him silently for a moment and then shrugged.

“Now, as you say, she has keys to two lockers—the one you took from her at Heathrow and this other one at Euston. It would be reasonable for us to both assume that there is nothing at the airport, but I need to be sure if I’m to catch her quickly. I am not an unreasonable man, Mister Carter. I know that torturing you is useless if you do not know the information I need. It’s an interesting philosophical point, don’t you think? There are known knowns, and known unknowns—and both of us realise that you have no idea which locker Ms Pietersen has gone to. How could you? You’ve been tied up, as it were. Let’s hope for both our sakes that she is still carrying the mobile this is linked to.” With a wink, Lars gave Hayden’s genitals a dreadfully playful pat.

“Ah!” he exclaimed once more, staring at the screen with glee. “It seems this is your lucky day! If this information is correct, she is currently on her way to Euston. Well, that should make things easier.”

“Oh god,” Hayden groaned. “What are you going to do?”

The other man frowned at this. “Do you really care what I do to Ms Pietersen, after the way she has... inconvenienced you?”

Hayden could not resist a bitter laugh. “Not her. Me. What are you going to do to me? You’ve got what you want, let me go.”

Lars let one gloved hand fall and almost affectionately stroked Hayden’s cheek, making the bound man shudder. “A good point, Mister Carter. Unfortunately, I
don’t
have what I want—not yet. I merely have the tools to discover it. Nonetheless, I don’t want to leave you here while I’m gone, convenient as that would be in some respects. Somebody else could find you, and that wouldn’t do at all—not at all.” Reaching into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, Lars retrieved something that Hayden couldn’t see clearly.

“This is really your lucky day after all,” the Norwegian said, almost cheerfully. “After all, who would have suspected that someone with my talents would
be passing by?” Leaning across Hayden’s face, Lars fiddled with the handcuffs and, to Hayden’s surprise, released him from the bed.

Pulling away, Lars gestured nonchalantly to the corner of the bedroom where Hayden’s clothes were still scattered. He continued to watch the screen of Maarten’s phone as he said: “Get dressed.”

Hayden’s fingers were so numb that he fumbled with the ropes that bound his ankles, but whatever other skills Karla possessed tying knots was not one of them. He was shaking as he pulled himself from the bed, almost dragging his clothes across his tired body. Buttoning his shirt, he turned around to see the other man standing on the far side of the bed. In his hand was a gun.

“Very good, Mister Carter. Now, find some shoes. You’re coming with me.”

Lars sat in the passenger seat, pointing his gun at Hayden who drove to Euston. Although they’d missed the rush hour, the traffic was still quite heavy, which made Hayden sweat more and more as he thought that the Norwegian might shoot him at any moment.

“It’s bad enough trying to make it near the centre of London at this time of day without you pointing that thing at me,” he remarked testily. He could just see Lars smile out of the corner of his eye.

“You should try and relax more, Mister Carter. You know, your associate Maarten was much more stoic than you are.”

“Yeah, well, bully for him.” Hayden couldn’t disguise his bitter sarcasm. “He hadn’t had the day I’ve just had.”

“You don’t think so? I’m not sure I agree. He’d been violently sick before I turned up, thanks in no small part to your attentions. He knew I’d been hired by Boeckman’s, probably to do something unspeakably unpleasant to him. And he also felt that he was in danger of losing the love of his life.”

The last made Hayden snort. “Love of his life? Well, she didn’t love him—that’s for sure.” Unbidden, an image of Karla riding him from above flashed into his mind. Equally unbidden, his trousers started to feel very tight. Great—just what he needed, to discover that he had a submissive streak at the moment of his possible impending death.

“So you say, so you say,” Lars mused. “There is a strange arrangement between the three of you that I can’t work out. Never mind. We’ll find Ms Pietersen and the Wallenstein and then, well… you’ll either tell me or you won’t.”

“Don’t you care to find out?” Hayden was feeling more nervous again. He glimpsed Lars shrugging.

“I’ll get what I need to know eventually from Maarten.”

“What have you done with him? Where is he?”

“Somewhere safe, Mister Carter, somewhere safe. Why don’t you concentrate on your driving and stop worrying about Maarten.”

“Just one thing. Why is he ‘Maarten’ and I’m always ‘Mister Carter’?”

“Because I have a certain affection for him. He’s a genius, in his own way, and certainly the most valuable of the three of you. You and Ms Pietersen on the other hand, you’re just scum who have dragged him into this.”

“Hey, I didn’t drag anyone—” Hayden’s outburst was interrupted by the sensation of a gun being pressed into his ribs.

“Just drive, Mister Carter. Soon this will all be over.” The cool tone did nothing to calm Hayden’s nerves.

They parked a few hundred metres away from the station and Lars consulted Maarten’s phone. “Good,” he said. “She’s still here. Perhaps she’s having some difficulty finding the diamond.” He gave Hayden a strange look. “This is where you left it, isn’t it?”

Hayden nodded. “And you know who you’re looking for?”

Lars smiled. “That’s why you’re here. I believe you know Ms Pietersen as intimately as anyone, though the truth is we don’t need to know the colour of her pubes and how nice her backside is. Find the right redhead and diamond for me, and perhaps you might get out of here in one piece.”

Hayden turned his head away at this. Of course! Maarten had only ever seen Karla with auburn hair and Lars knew nothing about her recent transformation. It was the one advantage Hayden had, though he didn’t know what he’d do with it.

The station was still busy, with people milling around as Hayden reluctantly led his captor to the lockers where he’d placed his stash. “Why here?” Lars asked curiously.

“I had someone to see and didn’t intend it to stay long
—but I was otherwise detained,” Hayden answered ruefully.

“Has she been here?”

“I don’t know. She has the bloody key and I can’t get into it.”

As Lars bent to inspect the locker, Hayden glanced around the concourse, his eyes straying to the platform gates. His heart stopped.

It was her. Though she had changed her clothes and carried a bag closely to her chest, she couldn’t disguise that walk. The petite brunette was entering onto one of the platforms. Hayden looked at the board and frowned. Holyhead? Why there? Where did that train stop en route?

Then it clicked. He knew
exactly
where she was going. That made him smile. He felt in his pocket where the key to Lars’s hire car still rested.

“We’ll have to look for her,” Lars said, standing up and pulling out the phone he was using to track Karla. “Bloody maps app,” he grumbled. “It’s only good for ten metres or so. I think she might be catching a train.”

This was Hayden’s chance—probably his only one. While Lars’s attention was still absorbed by the phone and his gun in his holster, Hayden suddenly launched himself against the Norwegian, using the full weight of his body to crash into the tall but wiry man. That caused a number of people to cry out in shock but Lars was stunned—which was precisely what Hayden had hoped for. He didn’t waste any more time dealing with the other man who crashed to the floor, his limbs flailing. Instead, he ran at full speed towards the exit.

His luck held. He managed to get into the car and start the ignition without too much fumbling. “I’ve never liked Volvos before, but thank you God,” he muttered to himself, and hit the accelerator to drive away as quickly as possible.