The Administration Series (155 page)

"Is that enough?" Sitting on a low couch opposite him, Nikoletta still sounded eager to see Karteris punished, which would make an exit with the evidence easier.

"Oh, I think I'll certainly be able to worry him with it." Toreth tucked his hand screen away. "Thanks for the coffee. Remember, don't say anything to Karteris about this — I'll make sure he doesn't know it was you who told me."

Even if she changed her mind about the betrayal in the morning, there would be no way for her to explain to Karteris what she'd done.

"You're going?" she asked.

Toreth crossed the room, bent down, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek chastely. The urge to laugh rose up, almost overwhelming and far stronger than the temptation to stay and fuck her.

"Yes. If I stayed, we'd both regret it in the morning."

Coming back to Karteris's flat had been a huge mistake, Sara decided. She'd overdone the flirting and then spun the so-far fruitless conversation out for as long as she could manage. Now she had the choice of either backing out in a way that would have to make Karteris suspicious or screwing the man, the idea of which made her feel rather ill. He reminded her too much of Toreth, except without his redeeming qualities

Hell, maybe Karteris had the same redeeming qualities — if very deeply hidden — and this was simply how Toreth appeared to most people. That idea didn't make the prospect of getting intimate any more appealing.

At least the sitting room of his flat was nothing like Toreth's, except in size. The tiny room was clean, tidy, and very well decorated, if a touch too masculine for her taste — very obviously a bachelor place, however married he was. Presumably his wife lived elsewhere.

The furniture was new, and the place was in a good neighbourhood too, if her sense of social status hadn't been thrown off by the different city. It wasn't outrageously plush, but it fitted in with the suggestion of inexplicable funds. Or maybe this was all paid for by his wife. Was there a tactful way of asking?

Karteris returned from the kitchen with a chilled bottle and two glasses. Real crystal.

Then the door comm chimed. Sara thanked God silently while Karteris went to answer it. He returned at once.

"It's my wife!" he hissed.

Wonderful. Now the evening was turning into a cheap farce.

"What the hell do you expect me to do about it?" Sara snapped.

"Go out through the bedroom," Karteris said, with a speed that suggested practise. "The window opens onto a courtyard — the door opposite leads to the street."

On the way out of the room, Sara noticed the bottle and glasses. His problem, she decided as he hustled her through the bedroom door and shoved it closed behind her, catching her heel.

The window wouldn't open. Of course, Sara thought as she struggled with the catch. Noises came from the room behind her — closing doors and indistinct voices — and for a moment she was tempted to give up and stroll back and out through the front door. Serve the adulterous bastard right.

Finally the window opened, but as she got a knee on the window ledge, the door handle rattled. Dive out or hide? The drop looked risky, so she ducked into a nearby wardrobe.

She was about to call out quietly to say she was still here, when she realised she had no idea who was out there. Walking out head high was one thing, being caught skulking in a cupboard would be humiliating. She listened to the footsteps cross the room, loud over wood, soft over carpet, loud over wood right outside. Then the window closed and the latch clicked shut again.

Could things get any worse?

Loud, soft — and the footsteps stopped. "She's gone," Karteris said.

"Did you get anything from her?"

Surprise almost gave Sara away and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the squeak.
Nikoletta
?

"Nothing," Karteris answered, the question apparently causing him no surprise. "I don't think he tells her anything. How about you? Did you have to . . . ?"

"No." Soft giggle. "Why? Jealous?"

"Of course. Weren't you?"

"Of that skinny, flat-chested Asian girl? Hardly."

Sara fumed.

A scuff of movement, then Nikoletta said, "Stop that, please. We need to talk."

"No. Come on. There's plenty of time later for that. Come
on
." His voice was muffled now, with a note of pleading that made him sound suddenly younger. "It's been too long. I bought champagne — a good vintage, not the cheap rubbish next door." A sigh. "God, I want you so badly. Feel it."

A pause, during which Sara prayed they weren't doing what she thought they were doing. The mention of champagne had given her hope that they might leave. Then the unmistakable sound of bodies on a mattress made her press her hand to her forehead and groan silently.

When she saw Toreth in the morning, she was going to kill him. Or at the very least maim him. Emasculation sounded like a suitable punishment.

It went on for a long time. Hours, it felt like, although it was too dark in the wardrobe for Sara to check her watch. A wooden rail poked into her back, forcing her to lean uncomfortably to the left. As the volume from the bed rose, she risked moving. An ominous creak of wood stopped her, but at least she no longer felt as though her spine would snap.

Whatever washing liquid Karteris used stank of fake scent, of a variety that would probably be called 'woodland fresh'. Even though she held the clothes back away from her face, Sara's nose itched maddeningly. She pinched the bridge until her eyes watered, suppressing the sneezes.

To complete the discomfort, that meant she had no hands free to put over her ears. Not that it would have done much good, as Karteris was loud and effusively complimentary.

God, this was almost worse than having to screw the man herself. Or maybe not. The idea of listening to it from a few centimetres away, rather than metres, made her feel queasy again.

What time was it? Didn't these people need to get up for work in the morning?

She tried to concentrate on Nikoletta, but that barely improved the situation. For one thing, the woman was so
false
. Sara hadn't heard so much theatrical groaning and moaning since the last time someone had trapped Chevril into buying a round of drinks. She felt like opening the wardrobe door and yelling, can't you tell she's faking it? No, was the obvious answer, as Karteris finally came, with fervent protestations of eternal love.

Sara didn't know which of the three of them was probably most relieved.

Maybe they'd fall asleep. Maybe they'd go for a shower, or a drink, or
something
, and she could get out of here.

"Wake up," Nikoletta whispered.

Karteris mumbled something too low to hear.

"This is important, love. Are you listening? I've got some news you won't like, so please, just listen and don't be mad. I told Toreth that you've been dealing drugs from the pharmacy."

Moment of absolute silence, then a sudden creak.

"You did
what
?" Karteris yelled.

"
Please
don't be angry. I didn't have any choice. They've been checking up on you, and someone told Toreth that you've been spending too much money. I had to tell him something."

"Why in God's name didn't you tell him it was from Stef?"

"Because that would be too easy to check. Do you really think Stephanie would lie to protect you?"

"Nikki . . . oh, Christ. What the hell is he going to do?"

"Probably nothing. If I&I came down hard on everyone who stole a few drugs, they'd have to put half the paras and interrogators on suspension. George or Vassilakis will make sure he keeps it quiet."

The bed creaked again, and then footsteps sounded. Bare feet, this time, as Karteris paced.

"He's so bloody abstemious. What if he sends it straight to Justice, did you think of that? Justice wouldn't care what Vassilakis thinks. God, sometimes you are so
stupid
."

"Please, love. I'm sorry."

"Nikki, do you have any conception of what happens to paras in prison?"

"You'd get a light sentence even if it came to that, which it
won't
."

"It would only have to
be
a light fucking sentence, because I wouldn't live long enough to serve it. Even if I don't meet someone I interrogated myself, there'll be plenty of people in there with reasons to hate paras. If I'm lucky I'll last long enough to be gang-raped in the showers a few times before someone shoves a broken bottle up my arse or down my throat."

"Don't be crude."

"I will be killed if I go to prison," he said slowly and deliberately. "I'm not going to rely on Vassilakis to save my neck. Besides, even if it was just a charge, Steffi would divorce me and my career would go down the recycling."

Silence. Then the bed creaked again, and Nikoletta spoke in a low voice, in the same language Sara had heard in the restaurant.

"Speak fucking English," Karteris snapped.

"Okay. Listen, love — I'm sorry I didn't think of everything, but the important thing is that he thinks he knows where the extra money came from."

"I won't — "

"Shh." Voice lower still, and muffled. Sara imagined the devious bitch wrapped around Karteris, breaking down his resistance with her probably surgically-enhanced tits. "Toreth isn't an idiot, and I bet he isn't half as pure and innocent as he makes out.
No one
got to be a senior by being
that
much of a goody two-shoes. Handing you over to Justice would be like . . . like career suicide."

"Nikki . . . " Weakening protest.

"He'll be here for a few more days, then he'll go away and everything will be back to normal. Didn't you tell the others that everything would be okay if people kept their nerve? You were right — you always are. You were right about Grant."

"Yes, but only because she died."

A pause, then Nikoletta said, "I mean, of course I know that we can't expect a lucky coincidence like that to solve
this
problem, but the point is that it worked out for the best, didn't it? You told everyone they didn't need to do anything and they didn't."

"Yes." Karteris sighed. "Yes, okay, you're right."

Noisy, wet kissing, then Nikki said, "Why don't we go and find that champagne?"

Early Friday morning, over a hotel breakfast, Sara spent half an hour listening to Toreth's account of the evening before, suppressing giggles with ever-increasing difficulty. When he reached the revelation about Karteris's drug-dealing, Sara summoned her best admin poker face and said, "I know."

Toreth stopped dead, a bread roll half torn in his hands. "You what? Karteris told you?"

"In a way. Actually, I overheard him discussing it with Nikoletta. When she turned up at his flat to let him know that you'd swallowed her act like one of those hooks. Right bait for the right fish."

At his expression of utter amazement, a warm flower of satisfaction began uncurling, petal by petal. Some compensation for the stifling time in the wardrobe — her sinuses still stung. "The drug story was a cover to explain why he's been throwing money away. He's up to something completely different. She must've thought last night was a godsend."

"But — " Toreth dropped the bread. "But she had the fucking evidence ready! And she must know I'll cross-check it with the pharmacy records."

"Then he's dealing
and
doing something else."

"So Karteris put her up to it?"

She couldn't remember him being so comprehensively wrong for a long time. "Nope. It was all her idea to tell you. Protecting her man, who wasn't very happy about it."

Silence. "Admins," Toreth said finally. "You're a devious fucking breed, aren't you? Remind me to keep an eye on you in future. Did you find out where the money's really coming from?"

"No, but she mentioned that some of the others were involved too."

"Ah, fuck." Toreth sighed. "I suppose I'll have to do something about it, won't I?"

"You don't
have
to."

"And if it comes out later? I'll look like an idiot if it's something big and I miss it."

"Well . . . " God, if he insisted on pursuing this hard, there went her relaxing weekend. "You're here to look at efficiency, not corruption. If the whole section's involved in some scam, it won't be anything to do with conspiring with resisters, will it? How many paras have gone bad? Ever."

He thought it over. "Hardly any. And never a whole section."

"Right. It'll be gambling or contraband from outside the Administration — something like that."

He nodded, still looking pensive. "I'll get Nagra and B-C to keep their ears to the ground over the weekend. I'd be a fuck sight happier if I knew what was going on, though. Pity you didn't overhear that too." He focused on her. "Come to think of it, how the hell
did
you hear all this?"

"From the wardrobe in Karteris's bedroom. He thought I'd gone out of the window."

"What was it like?"

"Cramped. Noisy."

He grinned, then his expression turned thoughtful. "Were they speaking Greek?"