“Look forward to it,” she replied.
We said our farewells and she wished me safe travels, and the instant I hung up I booked a ticket on the Aer Lingus flight that was due to leave Dublin for Los Angeles at 3:25 p.m.
I sent messages to Sci, Mo-bot and Justine giving them my flight details, and after a quick check-in and a short stay in the departure lounge, I settled into my business-class seat for takeoff. As the plane reached cruising altitude, the cabin crew went through drinks and meal service before setting the lights low so people could sleep, but I was too excited and full of anticipation. My mind whirred, working through what had happened, turning over aspects of the investigation and the Rome and Monaco cases to see if I’d missed anything that might offer a clue to Chalmont’s current whereabouts.
I was frustrated by the lack of a breakthrough and exhausted by the time the wheels finally touched the runway at LAX, but adrenalin kept me going. I showed no signs of fatigue when I met Sci in the Arrivals hall.
“It’s so good to see you,” he said, pulling me into a warm embrace.
“You too,” I replied. “It’s good to be home.”
We talked about the investigation on the way from the airport to the hospital, but I didn’t absorb much of what Sci was saying. My mind was abuzz with excitement and most of my responses were brief and automatic.
We met Mo-bot in the corridor on the third floor of UCLA Medical Center in Santa Monica, where she’d set up a little workstation outside of Justine’s private room.
“Jack,” she said, putting her laptop aside and rising the moment she saw me.
“Mo,” I replied as we embraced. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you in person.”
“I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” she said. “Listen, we can talk properly and be all hugs and kisses some other time, but I know you’re not here to see me.” She glanced pointedly at the door. “I think she’s resting, but she won’t mind being woken for this.”
I smiled, and my heart thundered with exhilaration as I entered Justine’s room.
Mo-bot was right. Justine was asleep in bed, her face lit by the gentle glow of the Californian sunlight edging through the blinds.
As I approached, Justine stirred, rubbed her eyes, and then gave the broadest smile when she saw me.
I beamed right back.
Chapter 91
Eight days later, on the second Tuesday in July, Justine was discharged from hospital. I walked alongside her as she was wheeled to the lobby — a formal requirement apparently — and held her hand as she thanked the orderly and stood up.
“I can’t tell you how good this feels,” she said, as we walked into the late-afternoon sunshine.
“I have an idea,” I replied. “And it’s almost as good as it feels to be taking you home.”
She smiled and we walked to the car parked in the hospital lot. I knew Mo-bot and Sci had wanted to be here too, but they had the sensitivity to realize Justine might be overwhelmed and easily tired. So they were at the office, busying themselves with the aftermath of the Dublin investigation. We’d arranged a celebratory meal at Geoffrey’s in Malibu on Saturday if Justine’s rehab and recovery saw her well enough. Judging by the walk to the car, I was confident we’d be dining beside the Pacific Ocean that weekend.
I drove her to my place in Pacific Palisades and we smiled at each other as I steered my Mercedes through the automatic gates. We usually lived separately, but I wanted her with me for the next couple of weeks at the very least.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “I’m well enough to go home. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding. I’ve cleared the decks to help look after you,” I replied as I parked in my driveway. “Anyway, it was about time we did something like this.”
She leaned over and kissed me.
“I don’t want you being alone until I know you’re safe,” I told her.
“You worried I might melt?” she asked.
“I just want to be sure,” I replied. In fact, I knew I had reason for caution beyond any lingering worry for Justine’s health. Raymond Chalmont was still out there, and he was almost certainly going to try again. I didn’t want to drive the point home now though because I didn’t want Justine to feel even more vulnerable than her injuries had already made her. “It will be nice. We’ll watch movies, eat well, hang out.”
“Works for me,” she said before getting out of the car.
We made good on my plan and cuddled on the couch while we watched the latest Dune movie. Later, I ordered Thai food, which we ate on the terrace overlooking the ocean, enjoying the gentle breeze and dying embers of what had been a perfect sunset.
“Life doesn’t get any better than this,” I remarked. I was so happy to see her well and on her way to a full recovery.
“I can think of a way to improve it,” she said suggestively.
“Really?” I asked. “I didn’t want to...”
“We can just take it slowly,” she replied, and led me inside and upstairs to my bedroom.
We’d just crossed the threshold when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I knew exactly what the alert meant.
“Sorry,” I said, stepping back from Justine. “I have to take this.”
When I glanced at the screen, I saw footage coming from one of the motion-activated cameras in the garden. A gang of masked men were making their way toward the house.
“What is it?” Justine asked, sensing my sudden concern.
“You need to get to the panic room now,” I said, leading her out into the hallway and to the secure secret room installed behind a false wall in the second bedroom.
“Don’t come out,” I told her. “No matter what happens.”
Chapter 92
The panic room was accessed through a concealed panel in the wall, which retracted from the corner of the room.
“Come in with me,” Justine pleaded. “Let’s call the cops.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I replied, ushering her into the tiny, secure space. “Please trust me. I need you to do that. Remember: don’t come out. No matter what.”
“Jack, you’re scaring me,” she said.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” I told her, and leaned in for a kiss. “Trust me.”
She nodded reluctantly, and I watched her move to the console where the home-security system was displaying footage of the interior of my house, recording everything that happened. She pressed the button that shut and locked the armored panel, and I stepped away, satisfied she was safe.
I crept across the hallway and went to my bedroom. I had a gun-safe in my closet where I kept my personal arsenal, but I didn’t need to waste any time. I’d prepared for this eventuality and had a pistol ready in the top drawer of my dresser. I grabbed it and held it ready as I went downstairs, slowly and silently.
I heard movement by the French doors that opened onto the terrace and went toward the sound. A masked man with a pistol in his hand came into view, creeping along the terrace and heading for the open doors.
I ducked behind the wall quickly, confident the sound of the ocean would mask my footsteps. If he’d heard me, he showed no sign but came through the door oblivious to my presence.
“Freeze,” I whispered, and the man turned, startled.
I clocked him in the face with my pistol, catching him on the ear. As he doubled over in pain and waved his gun in my direction, I swung mine down and hit the back of his head, knocking him senseless.
He fell in a heap. At the same time I heard the shattering of glass and went to the kitchen, where I peered round the doorway to see a masked man unlocking a window he’d broken. As he clambered inside, I felt something hard and cold press against my temple and realized someone had pressed a gun to my head. One of his accomplices had got the jump on me.