Unholy Ghost (13 page)

Then he went down to reception and told them he'd be leaving very early next day. He settled his bill then went back to his room where he sat and waited. 

Chapter Twenty-six

Nadine phoned Jimmy about an hour and a half after she had left his hotel. She'd sorted everything out with her office and was clear to go. She also told him that if it screwed up on her she had left information which would ensure that Jimmy, if he survived, would go down for murder, blackmail, shoplifting, and all the unpaid parking fines outstanding in Paris. Other than that she suggested they have breakfast at the Gare de Lyon before the train left next morning. Jimmy agreed and then lay on his bed. So far so good, I mean, why arrange to meet for breakfast if she was going to shop him to the police? So he set his phone for an alarm call, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

His phone woke him next morning and at five he was went downstairs with his holdall. The night porter at reception looked up from his paper, took his key, smiled, and then went back to his reading and Jimmy left the hotel.

Nadine arrived at the station café shortly after six thirty. She looked good, the real business. She was pulling a small, smart suitcase, had her Gucci handbag over her shoulder, and was carrying a severe briefcase. For a woman like her, Jimmy reckoned that was travelling light, and expecting a very short trip. She sat down, arranged her luggage by her, then looked at him with eyes that said “I'm in control”.

‘Well?'

‘Well what?'

‘Aren't you going to get me coffee?'

‘Sure. Just coffee?'

She nodded and began to fiddle inside her handbag.

Jimmy brought the coffee and put it in front of her. She took a sip.

‘I really do have your neck in a noose if this thing turns sour on me. You do understand that?' It was Jimmy's turn to nod but he was still tired so he didn't add anything. ‘You said you had the tickets?'

‘Yes.'

‘First class?'

‘No.'

‘Oh, God.'

‘Sorry.'

She didn't answer, lapsed into silence as she drank her coffee.

Things stayed that way until they were sitting together on the train and it began to slowly roll out of the station.

As soon as it had picked up speed Nadine began to  try to make herself comfortable.

‘I'm going to try and get some sleep. When I wake you can get me coffee and croissants.' She paused in her preparations. ‘With real butter.'

‘Got it. Real butter.'

She turned her head slightly to the window, closed her eyes and, as far as Jimmy could make out, seemed to go straight to sleep. Jimmy looked past her at Paris, now moving past fast, and thought about his last train journey with Serge. That had been a bit of a bastard. He hoped this one would turn out better. He looked out of the window and watched Paris go by, then looked at Nadine. If she was pretending to be asleep she was doing a first-rate job.

The rest of the journey passed in much the same way. Jimmy got her coffee when she wanted it but, other than that, they talked hardly at all. They both had plenty to think about and both had lots of questions that needed answers, but they were not the kind of questions you asked or answered anywhere public. Not that Jimmy would have asked her anything of any real interest even if they'd had the whole compartment to themselves. She wouldn't give him any real answers until she was sure that the woman McBride had hidden away was the real thing, or as good as.

The Paris to Milan run was a trip of just over seven hours. Jimmy stared into space or looked past Nadine at the passing countryside. When awake she kept her nose buried in a book she had brought with her. It was by someone called Lee Child. Jimmy had never heard of him.

He looked at her. Why take a window seat if you didn't want to look out of the window, Jimmy wondered. But he guessed she was one of those people who always took what they saw even if they wanted it or not. At Milan there was a twenty-five minute break before the Rome train. They sat in the station café, Nadine had a glass of wine and some sort of salad. Jimmy had a beer and a slice of some sort of flan. Railway station food. They didn't talk. When their train pulled up to the platform Jimmy slipped past her as she marshalled her luggage to get on the train and, by the time she reached their seats, he was by the window. He didn't offer to help her put her luggage up on the rack. She was a big, strong girl, she could manage by herself. She sat down and began once more to read her book, ignoring him.

‘Is it any good?'

‘No idea, it passes the time.'

And she turned a page.

The train began to pull out, it was the afternoon, the sun was lowering in the sky making the shadows longer and darker. Once clear of Milan there was a beauty about it all for anyone who had eyes to see. The ticket inspector passed through the compartment. If there was going to be a problem, if the Paris police had put out a call, now would be the time it all blew up in his face. But the ticket collector went on, and, after two station stops, nothing had happened. Everything was going smoothly. Whatever the Paris police were doing about Serge nobody seemed to be working hard at locating one James Costello. Or maybe it was just being on the train. Airports could be checked, but with paperless frontiers someone on a train became pretty much invisible. That was why he had chosen it.

Jimmy looked out of the window. The outer edges of another big city slowly began to emerge from the countryside. He tried to think about how he'd handle Professor Scolari or whoever he came up against at the Collegio. But his brain froze. Suddenly he was too tired to think so he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

He had been asleep for about ten minutes when Nadine stopped her pretence of reading. She had been turning the pages slowly, at the right pace, but ignoring the words, thinking about Jimmy and her present situation. She lowered the book and looked at him. Definitely not a nobody. How would she handle him once she got what she wanted? It was a tricky call. Ditch him straight away or hold on to him? If she got what she wanted would she still need him to handle things until a deal was done? She then let her mind circle Jimmy's interest in this business. How much did he know, what sort of people were behind him, and how much did they want? There was a lot to play for, more than a lot, but not enough to go shares with anyone. There was never enough to let some of it slip away. Jimmy stirred but didn't open his eyes. The book went back up and her eyes looked at the words for a moment. It was a scene in which some tough guy was being tough. She turned the page and slightly lifted her eyes. He seemed still to be asleep so she lowered the book again and returned to her question. Ditch him or keep him? It was a big question.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The train arrived at Termini at six twenty-five. They had snacked on the journey, not eaten a real meal, and Jimmy was hungry. The first thing he wanted, now he was back in Rome, was to get some food inside him. He suggested a restaurant he knew.

‘No, we can have dinner after I've got my hotel sorted out.'

‘How long will that take?'

‘As long as it takes.'

‘Do you want me to recommend somewhere?'

She gave a small laugh.

‘No, I don't think our tastes would coincide. I'll be staying at the RiverPalace. I booked yesterday as soon as I knew we were coming. It's on the Via Flaminia.'

‘I know where it is and you're right, our tastes don't coincide.'

The RiverPalace was very upmarket and in a smart-set part of the city, not the sort of place that Jimmy would want to go and probably not somewhere he'd be particularly welcome if he did.

‘I'll call you when I'm ready.'

And that was that. He was to wait until he was wanted.

Nadine walked to the taxi rank, got in, and Jimmy watched the taxi pull away. He turned back to the station. He would catch the Metro to his apartment. Maybe he would drop into the Café Mozart for a drink or go straight up and make himself a sandwich. He wasn't sure. Suddenly a man was at his side, close, too close. Jimmy tried to take a step away but bumped into another man standing on the other side, also too close.

‘Please, Mr Costello, do not make any fuss. There is someone who wants to talk to you and it would be better if you came willingly. If I use this you will collapse in less than thirty seconds.' Jimmy looked down at the man's hand which he took out of his coat pocket. It held a small hypodermic. ‘You will have fainted. It would only make a small disturbance, a small embarrassment, but nothing more, believe me.'

Jimmy looked at the other man, Hypo was big enough, but not compared to his partner. They both had fixed smiles and were looking at him, no one was taking any notice, it was just three friends meeting and talking. Jimmy decided that they knew their business and if they'd wanted to finish him he'd be dead by now, so he shrugged. Why not? It was what he wanted after all, to make contact with the opposition. Now it seemed they'd saved him the trouble of looking.

‘It's your party. Let's go.'

The big one attached himself to Jimmy's arm while the other half of the sketch had his hand half out of his pocket so he could use the hypo quickly if he had to. They shepherded him to a black Fiat waiting some way behind the line of taxis. The big one's grip tightened as he opened the door. Hypo got in first and moved across, Jimmy got pushed in and the big one got in beside him. Jimmy was glad it was a big car, in anything smaller he wouldn't have been able to breathe. The car pulled away and as it did the man with the hypo used it in Jimmy's thigh. Jimmy didn't struggle except for a sudden jerk as the needle went in and, just as the man had said, in less than thirty seconds he passed out.

He came round slumped in a big, comfortable armchair with his jacket and shoes off and a warm blanket spread over him. He had a headache and his first feeling was that if he didn't get to a toilet quickly and take a piss his bladder would burst. He struggled to sit up and that made his head worse but he stuck at it. The man who had used the hypo was sitting in an armchair opposite, watching. Jimmy stood up and the man nodded his head to a door.

‘Through that door.'

Jimmy went to the door and opened it. It was the bathroom. He stood at the toilet and relieved himself of the awful pressure. He had been kidnapped, shot full of dope, and was now in what looked like a hotel suite with the man who had used the hypo. But none of that diminished the momentary pleasure he felt, a sense of supreme relief. Finished, he rinsed his hands and went back into the room and looked round. It was the main room of an expensive hotel suite. Jimmy and Hypo were the only two occupants. His shoes were by the chair he'd woken up in so he put them back on while Hypo watched. After he'd tied his laces he stood up. Movement hurt but it helped.

‘What happens now?'

Hypo shrugged.

Jimmy knew he spoke English so he tried again.

‘I said what happens now, shithead?'

The man didn't react except to tell Jimmy to sit down. So Jimmy sat down. The relief of the toilet was gone and all that was left was a throbbing headache and Hypo, who still looked as if he knew his business, and Jimmy was in no state to play the tough guy.

The bedroom door opened and a man walked in.

‘Hello, Mr Costello, nice to see you again. Has he used the toilet?' Hypo nodded and said something in what sounded to Jimmy like Danish. ‘Good, you can go now, Bengt. Mr Costello and I need to talk for a while. I'll call you when I need you.'

Hypo, who was also Bengt, left and the new arrival sat in the chair opposite Jimmy.

‘I try so hard to keep you alive, Mr Costello, yet you seem to try just as hard to frustrate my efforts. Tell me, is that animosity on your part or your natural bloody-mindedness. Or is it perhaps sheer stupidity? No, not stupidity, I take back stupidity. You are many things, I know, but not usually stupid. My guess would be sheer bloody-mindedness.'

The man sat back with a gentle grin on his face. He'd made his introduction now he waited for Jimmy to make his reply.

‘Still playing the comedian, Commander? It is still Commander is it? That was what you were when you saw me off at Copenhagen.'

‘Alas yes, still Commander. I fear I have reached the limits of both my talent and my opportunity. So, to business, why are you trying so hard to get yourself killed? I ask the question professionally, you understand, if you have a death wish then I will of course respect your decision. Have you developed a death wish, Mr Costello?'

‘I thought anything outside Denmark didn't concern you. If I want to get myself killed why should you care so long as it happens outside Denmark?'

‘Because this concerns things that happen inside Denmark. Didn't you know that? I would have thought you would have known that.'

‘No, I didn't know that.'

The comedian manner slipped away for a moment while the man turned over what Jimmy had told him. Then he came to some sort of decision and the act was on again.

‘You are not still a member of the Vatican Diplomatic Service I take it?'

‘The passport was a fake. I was never employed by His Holiness.'

‘No, of course you weren't, but I had to play my part in that little charade didn't I? If I hadn't your Monsignor from Rome would have been gravely embarrassed and in Denmark we take men of the cloth with suitable seriousness, even a Catholic Monsignor from Rome who tells us things that are less than the truth.'

Jimmy stood up.

‘Come on, sunshine, you're the one who had me picked up and delivered here so either make your point or let me go.'

The Comedian registered surprise.

‘But you are free to go, you are not being held against your will. I have no authority here to arrest, detain, or even question you. Leave as soon as you wish, Mr Costello.'

And he held out a hand pointing at the room door. Jimmy sat down again.

His head still ached and he now had a funny taste in his mouth, but if he really was free to go he might as well stay and do his best to find out why the Comedian had picked him up in the first place.

‘I could tell the local police you bundled me into a car and filled me full of some kind of dope.'

‘By all means, go to the police and make a complaint if you wish.' He waited a moment to make his point. ‘No? Not keen to involve the police? I thought not. However, if you will answer a few of my questions I will do my best to answer a few of yours and our time together may prove profitable to both of us. What do you say?'

Jimmy looked at his watch. He couldn't have been out long, it was only an hour since they'd arrived at Termini. He felt for his phone. The Comedian put his hand in his own pocket, pulled it out, and handed it over to him.

‘I switched it off while you were indisposed.'

Jimmy switched it on, after a second it beeped that he had a message. He opened it, read it, and then put away the phone.

‘I'm meeting someone in an hour and I need to get back to my apartment and get myself sorted. If we're going to have a heart-to-heart about anything make it snappy.'

‘I'll have you driven to your apartment whenever you wish. Your appointment is, I suppose, with Ms Heppert?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then let that be my first question. What is your relationship at the moment with Ms Heppert?'

‘At the moment?'

‘Why are you travelling together and why are you in Rome?'

‘Those are big questions, the answers might cover a lot of ground. Try something smaller to begin with.'

‘Really, Mr Costello, we shall get nowhere like this. Caution is all very well but mutual co-operation requires a little trust from both parties.'

‘Go on then, make me trust you.'

The act slipped away again. Now the man sitting opposite Jimmy was anything but funny.

‘Ms Heppert is a company lawyer, a very good one. She is a woman of intelligence, ambition, and resource. She is currently employed in a senior position in the Paris office of a small but extremely influential firm based in Manhattan. She has an excellent salary supplemented by what some might call an almost obscene expense account. But she wants more, and when she gets what she wants it will still not be enough. For people like her, it never is. At the moment she is manoeuvring to negotiate a promotion with a rival firm, no, not a promotion, a partnership. She is a dangerous woman, Mr Costello, believe me, I know.'

‘How?'

‘Serge Carpentier told me.'

The man waited while Jimmy let it sink in.

‘Carpentier worked for you?'

‘On a casual basis. He came to Denmark a few years ago as part of a European-wide police effort to trace the way Eastern European women were being brought into Western countries to work in the sex trade. The French thought there was a route operating through Denmark. As it happened they were wrong and that left Carpentier with a little time on his hands and unfortunately for him, but fortunately for me, he used it unwisely. A young man died. It was not technically murder, you understand, more a regrettable accident due to an excess of sexual enthusiasm. But it could have resulted in criminal proceedings if it hadn't been dealt with. It would certainly have got him dismissed from his job if it had got back to his superiors.'

‘So you made sure it was swept under the carpet, put the screws on Carpentier, and made him work for you?'

‘Yes.'

‘Why would you need a tame French copper? I thought we were all on the same side these days?'

‘Most of the time we are. But not all of the time. Not, for instance, in the case of the Colmar estate. We knew of the US interest in the estate and that Ms Heppert was acting for that interest so I told Carpentier to get close to her.'

‘To become her lover?'

‘To become whatever he had to be, but as it happened they did develop a sexual relationship. People who are rich, greedy, and selfish usually do not restrain their appetites so it wasn't hard for Carpentier to, as it were, fill a vacancy. Ms Heppert has a very strong carnal urge, luckily Carpentier was a man of talent in that line of work.'

‘Did he suggest giving Joubert a going over or was it her idea?'

‘Hers. Ms Heppert wanted to remove the lawyer Joubert from his role on behalf of the sisters. She didn't want that complication to get in her way. With Joubert suitably scared off it was easy to take over from him. The sisters needed a replacement lawyer, she came highly recommended, and they took her at face value.'

‘So Carpentier hired a couple of thugs and had Joubert put in hospital for her.'

‘For her? For me? Let us say it was something that needed doing so I told him to help her do it. When you turned up I was really quite surprised. I shouldn't have been of course, once the matter of the Colmar estate became entangled with the sisters in Paris I should have anticipated that Professor McBride might take an interest, which she did as soon as it was drawn to her attention. I didn't, however, know what it was you were sent to Paris to do, but you were a nuisance at a delicate point in time so I had Carpentier eject you from the country with a warning not to return. With you and Joubert out of the picture all of our energies could be focussed on the Heppert woman. All I wanted, you understand, was to avoid unnecessary complications.'

Jimmy didn't like the way this story was unwinding. He'd had Carpentier down as on Heppert's payroll, a bent copper and, if pushed, a potential killer. If what the man seated opposite was telling him was true he'd been wide of the mark, miles bloody wide.

‘Carpentier was your man alongside Heppert?'

‘Was being the operative word. Serge Carpentier's body was found in an alley in a Paris suburb yesterday. He had been savagely beaten then shot though the side of the head with his own gun. Would you know anything about that, Mr Costello?'

The man sat back and Jimmy's mind raced trying to think of what, if anything, he should do or say.

‘Why should I know anything?'

It was a poor stall and got what it deserved, a pitying smile.

‘Because unless I'm very much mistaken you were the one who shot him.'

And that was that, if he knew, he knew. He was a clever bastard and he didn't piss about. He used that bloody comedian act to put you off your guard but his mind never left the job in hand once it had locked on.

‘I thought he'd set me up. I thought he'd got me there to finish me off.'

‘No, Mr Costello. I wanted you out of the way, not in the morgue. Nothing more would have happened to you than happened to M. Joubert. A few knocks and bruises, enough to put you in hospital so I could have visited you and put you in the picture. I'm afraid your killing of Serge Carpentier was based on an error of judgement, in fact I'm surprised that you could have made such a mistake, more than surprised, disappointed and extremely annoyed. I spent time and effort to put Carpentier alongside the Heppert woman and, thanks to your blundering, you have undone all of that work.'