Tom’s nerves were frayed as he stepped through the sliding doors into the brightly-lit building, holding onto Serena’s hand for comfort and reassurance. How on Earth had he gotten into such a position? Prior to taking up the role at CERN, the most trouble he’d been in with the authorities was a speeding ticket and a verbal warning for marijuana possession when he was a teenager. Now, suddenly, he was a fugitive from the Swiss police, an escapee from a homicidal maniac and possibly about to be arrested for entering his own country illegally.
They made their way over to the immigration booths and joined the smallest queue. Tom peered around the only person in front of him to look at the official stamping the passports. He was a prematurely grey-haired man in his early fifties, with a lean face, steely-blue eyes and hooked nose. Tom was trying to work out whether he’d chosen the right person by comparing him to the other immigration officers, when the man in front of him moved forward. Tom resigned himself to his fate; changing lanes now would immediately draw attention to himself and arouse suspicion.
He squeezed Serena’s hand tighter. She seemed to be keeping her composure better than he was; her expression hadn’t changed since leaving the plane, and she appeared relaxed and confident. He made a mental note to himself never to take her on at poker.
‘Next.’ The official beckoned for Tom to come forward.
Tom handed his passport through the letterbox window, his hand trembling ever so slightly. The officer didn’t seem to notice. He turned to the photograph page, checking it against Tom’s physical features. Satisfied with the match, he scanned the barcode, which brought up Tom’s biometrics and travel data. He tapped away on the computer keyboard, then read the results on the screen.
‘Which flight did you come in on, Sir?’
‘Private jet from CERN, Switzerland.’
Tom’s response elicited another flurry of typing, after which the Customs officer checked his screen again.
‘Sir, I have the manifest from that flight and your name doesn’t appear to be on it. Were you travelling with a Professor Morantz and a Miss Serena Mayer?’
‘Yes… erm… I mean, no… I mean yes,’ replied Tom, perplexed. ‘I was flying with Miss Mayer, but not Professor Morantz. He died and I took his place… I don’t mean on the aeroplane. Although I did take his place on the plane, he just didn’t die on it. He died at work, but I wasn’t there when it happened… I just took over from him. So the person who booked the flight must have booked it before he died, but then I came along and she probably forgot to change the name… Does that make sense?’
The official just stared at Tom. A trickle of sweat ran down the centre of his back. He was convinced that, any second now, the man behind the bullet-proof screen would call out for reinforcements and Tom would be surrounded by armed security guards, who would drag him off to some windowless interrogation room.
However, without another word, the officer raised his hand and stamped the passport before handing it back through keyhole window to Tom. He reached to take it, but the official held onto it.
‘Sir, next time, get your paperwork in order before you fly,’ he said curtly. ‘Otherwise, you may be refused entry.’
Tom pulled a little harder, managing to wrest the passport from the other man’s grip. ‘Sorry, of course I will. And thank you.’
He had to pace himself leaving the booth. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but he did need to get away as quickly as possible in case the immigration officer changed his mind. What he actually wanted to do was run as fast as his legs would carry him. Having exercised immense self-control, he waited around the corner for Serena to join him.
A few minutes later she sauntered up to him. ‘Well, that was easy enough.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ he replied. ‘I must have lost two stone and aged ten years in the last fifteen minutes. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Still on edge, he grabbed Serena by the arm and hurried her past the baggage collection hall, through the ‘Nothing to declare’ channel and out onto the arrivals concourse, where he spotted a familiar face. Being met at the airport reminded him of the first time he’d seen Ajay. How long ago was that? Less than a week, but it seemed like a lifetime to Tom. He made his way over to a rather rotund man who was still scanning the crowd of arriving passengers.
‘Looking for somebody in particular?’ he asked the man.
The man’s annoyance at having his concentration broken by a total stranger was evident on his face. He turned to the interloper, intending to give him a piece of his mind. In an instant, the frown vanished and his features were transformed by a huge grin as he recognised his young friend.
‘Tom, ya wee bastard! You’ll give an old man a heart attack, sneaking up on him like that,’ he admonished in a thick Scottish accent, before throwing his arms around Tom in a massive bear hug.
The two men embraced, rocking backwards and forwards, oblivious to anybody else around them. Eventually, the older man pushed Tom to arm’s length to inspect him. ‘Ya have ne changed a bit. How long has it been? Seven, eight years?’
‘More like ten and you always was a liar.’
‘Well, maybe you’re a wee bit skinnier, then, if I’m going to be honest.’
‘That’s more than I can say about you,’ Tom replied patting the older man’s paunch.
Serena, feeling a little awkward about being side-lined for so long, cleared her throat.
Tom broke away from the other man and straightened his clothes. ‘Sorry. Jed, this is Serena Mayer. Serena, this is my good friend Professor Jed Campbell. Although, I have to say, he’s not your stereotypical academic.’
Serena stepped forward and proffered her hand. Jed held it in both of his. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mayer,’ he said politely.
‘Please, call me Serena.’
Without letting go of her hand, he turned to Tom. ‘Is she ya girlfriend?’
‘Jed! You always were as subtle as a brick,’ Tom chided.
‘And he always had a good eye for the ladies,’ Jed countered, turning his attention back to Serena.
Serena’s crepe bandage had slipped slightly, revealing an angry red welt. Jed turned her hand over to inspect her wrist. ‘Kinky. You two into that S & M, are ya?’
‘Sorry?’ Tom replied, baffled by the comment.
‘Ya know, bondage and all that.’
Tom realised what he was alluding to. ‘No, no,’ he said quickly. ‘Quite the opposite. It’s a long story.’
‘Aye, that’s what you say!’ Jed winked in Tom’s direction. ‘Whatever floats ya boat. Ya know me… I’m not one to judge… Did I tell ya about that time I was in Bangkok?’
Tom shook his head slowly. ‘Maybe later. We’d better be going before you say something that will really embarrass me.’
‘No suitcases?’ Jed observed.
‘No, we had to leave in rather a hurry,’ Tom replied without going into too much detail.
‘Well, if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know,’ Jed volunteered obligingly.
Tom considered asking for a change of clothes and some toiletries, but settled for his more immediate needs. ‘A sandwich and a coffee would be good. Can we grab one on the way?’
‘Aye, you look as though you need fattening up, and I know just the place,’ Jed replied, linking arms with them both to lead them out of the airport.
CHAPTER 33
On the way to Brookhaven, they made a brief pit stop at a 24-hour diner cum watering hole named Stars ‘N’ Bars where, Tom and Serena had been reliably informed, they served the best Jambalaya this side of the Mississippi, not to mention the best Mojito outside of Mexico. Cherie, their waitress, wearing a little too much foundation and lipstick for her age, seemed to know Jed well. From their flirtatious banter, it was obvious to Tom that his old friend had spent more than a few nights sampling the delights on offer, which probably included Cherie.