“So am I in danger, Jake?”
“No, and they won’t try anything either, if that’s what you mean. They’ve almost certainly been sent to keep an eye on you, that’s all. But until we’ve found that U-boat, we’re all going to have to keep our wits about us. Do you really think that you know where that tunnel entrance is located?”
“The thought came to me the other evening. It’s so simple, that I don’t know why I didn’t think of it straight away. But, I don’t want to discuss it on the phone, Jake. I want you all to hear what I have to say at the same time. Look, its seven-twenty now, why don’t we all meet at the café at eight-thirty. That’ll give me enough time to have a nice hot shower, and make myself presentable.”
“Okay. But go and lock all the doors, and make sure every window is securely fastened. We’ll collect you on the way down to the harbour.”
Dillon broke the connection and tried Chapman’s number at home. It rang four times before Chapman answered the phone. “It’s Dillon, Annabelle is back, and wants us to all meet at the café at eight-thirty this evening for dinner. She wants us all together, before she’ll tell us, what it is she knows.”
“But she’s told you, right?”
“No, not even me, Rob. Look, I’ll see you later.” Dillon disconnected, put the phone back into his track suit pocket, and then rushed back to the Fisherman’s Lodge to tell LJ and Vince the news.
Kurt watched patiently through binoculars as Annabelle went all around the house locking the doors and windows.
“She’s making sure all of the doors and windows are locked.”
Pierre nodded, “What are we going to do? Dillon is obviously not inside.”
“No, but what’s to say that he isn’t on his way here right now?”
“Do you think that’s she’s told him yet?”
“I doubt it. And maybe she never will,” Kurt told him.
From the passenger seat of the Porsche, Pierre looked nervously at the big German. “Look, I don’t want any part in any of that business. And most definitely not with a woman involved. That’s just not right.”
“Shut the fuck up Frenchman. You’ll do as I tell you, or suffer the consequences.” Kurt snapped, “For now, we wait and watch.”
It was just after eight o’clock, at the Ferran & Cardini International building in Docklands. Guy Roberts was just putting the finishing touches to his report on Oliver Asquith’s financial affairs. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the opposite wall, and remembered that he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. He carefully placed the document into the top drawer of his desk and locked it, stood up and pushed his swivel chair back under the desk. After putting on his jacket he checked that everything in the small office was in order, and then left.
He came out of the building by the side entrance, and started to walk along the narrow street towards the wharf side. The attractive woman walking towards him, was in her early thirties, wearing a dark well fitting business suit that touched her curvaceous figure in exactly the right places. She glanced down at the photo displayed on the screen of her mobile phone, just to make sure, then flipped the wafer thin device shut and put inside her handbag. In fact, she looked just like any other high flying executive at the peak of her career.
She walked up the street, unhurried, but with purpose. Tall buildings rising up on either side of her, watching from behind tinted glasses as the young, good looking man came towards her. Guy Roberts, who was tired and still thinking about the Asquith affair, took little notice of the elegant auburn haired woman walking towards him. Didn’t even notice, when she pulled from her handbag, the small Italian made handgun with the silencer attached to the stubby barrel. As she passed him, he casually glanced in her direction and smiled.
One tiny, red, liquid drop of blood was all that was visible in the centre of the small, neat hole in Guy Robert’s forehead an inch or so above his left eye. His eyes were wide open, unseeing in death, as he lay face up and spreadeagled in the gutter. The woman stood looking down at the body for a brief moment, and thought how his features registered a look of surprise.
The street was quite empty, only the CCTV cameras for company. She put the handgun back into her handbag, and before walking away, casually glanced up at one of the cameras. At the end of the street, she got into a Renault Clio, and drove away. Five minutes later she dumped the car in a side street, near to Wapping station. Along with the Auburn wig and the business suit that she’d been wearing.
At Bonne Nuit, Annabelle had a long hot shower and washed her hair. The ship’s clock hanging over the fire mantle, showed a little after eight-seventeen. She poured herself a gin and tonic and stepped out onto the deck. The view was as breathtaking as always, she walked to the edge and looked down at the harbour below. There was only a light breeze and the wrinkled sea stretched as far as the eye could see, was as deeply blue as ever under an almost cloudless sky. Kurt and Pierre watched from the Porsche through binoculars.
“Damn, Dillon to hell. He’s not turned up, and we’ve wasted nearly an hour just sitting here.” Pierre said.
“How astute of you, Frenchman. But, how naive you are. Dillon almost certainly knows that we’re watching the girl. Had we made a move towards that house, I’ve absolutely no doubt what would have happened. Think yourself, extremely fortunate to still be alive.” Kurt said, while continuing to look through the binoculars.
Pierre thought how arrogant he was, and gave him a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “She scrubs up well, that one. I’m looking forward to meeting her properly.” He added, as he spotted Annabelle walk out onto the deck. She was looking fresh and relaxed, wearing khaki linen trousers and a white short-sleeved blouse nipped in at the waist.
The Range Rover slowly passed them and pulled up outside Annabelle’s house, Dillon was driving with LJ and Vince sitting in the rear seat. He got out, looked back up the road, and waved at them, before opening the passenger door for Annabelle to get in.
“One day, very soon, I’m going to wipe that smile clean off his face.” Kurt said, as the Range Rover pulled away and drove off down the hill towards the harbour, and the café.
“Now what?” Pierre demanded.
“For now, Frenchman. We let them have a pleasant dinner, and then get the girl later when she’s returned and Dillon is tucked up in his own bed.”
Kurt started the engine and drove up the hill away from Bonne Nuit.
It was a little after eight forty-five when Rob Chapman walked into Annabelle’s Café, and found her sitting at the bar with Dillon and the others. On seeing him come through the doorway, she went and greeted him warmly, kissing him on both cheeks. “It’s so good to see you, Rob.”
“Annabelle, it’s lovely to have you back. How are things with Nathan?”
“He’s on the mend, thanks.”
“Jake tells me that you think you know where Nathan was diving that morning?”
Before she could answer, LJ had stood up, and was beckoning them to a large round table outside on the deck.
A moment later, Kate Jackson came over. “Can I get anyone a drink?”
“We’ll have two bottles of Australian red and two of the white, please Kate. That is, as long as no one objects?” Annabelle said, looking around the table.
“Sounds like a splendid idea to me, my dear.” LJ said, and the others all agreed.
Dillon waited for Kate Jackson to leave, before looking across the table at Annabelle and asking, “So, where do you think the tunnel entrance is?”