The note was unsigned. It had been produced by a computer, of course, but the font was slightly different from the letter Henry had received.
Ingrid was reading it over my shoulder. ‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered.
‘Did you show this to Henry?’
‘Yes,’ Clare said. ‘The bastard told me all about what had happened to him and his family. I can’t believe he let me take Ninetyminutes over from him without warning me. The coward.’
‘He was worried about his family,’ I said.
‘What about me? And he said he’d told you all about it. Why didn’t you let me know what was going on?’
‘I’m sorry. I had promised Henry I wouldn’t. I did try to stop it. I went to France to try to warn Owen off.’ I touched my cheek, where there was still a small scar. ‘Obviously that didn’t work.’
‘Obviously,’ said Clare.
‘So that’s why you sounded so shaken this afternoon?’ Ingrid asked.
‘Absolutely right. I decided to ignore the note. But I was rattled. And then I got this.’
She handed me the printout of an e-mail. This message was much shorter.
You have eight hours. Say no to Champion Starsat or you die. I’m serious.
I tried to decipher the internet routing gobbledegook. The message had been sent to Clare at Orchestra. Where it had come from was impossible to determine: I didn’t recognize any of the forwarding addresses.
‘Will it be possible to trace this?’ I asked.
‘I doubt it,’ said Clare. ‘It’s easy to send anonymous e-mails once you know what you’re doing.’
‘Anonymous?’ I snorted. ‘I don’t know why Owen bothered.’
‘Do you think it is Owen?’ Ingrid asked.
I nodded. ‘I’m sure it’s Owen. It’s a last-ditch attempt to protect Guy.’
Clare shuddered. ‘That man gives me the creeps.’
‘So he should,’ I said.
‘What are you going to do?’ Ingrid asked Clare.
‘I know I’m not going to give in to the threats,’ said Clare, her hand shaking.
‘Henry did,’ said Ingrid.
‘I know Henry did. But I’m not going to. If I do, Orchestra Ventures will lose millions. I’m just not prepared to be responsible for that.’
‘It would be quite understandable if you did pull the deal,’ I said. ‘You should know Owen is quite capable of carrying out his threats. He’s killed at least two people that I know of.’
Clare looked at me, eyes wide. ‘My God, I’ve dealt with some shady people in the past, but never a murderer.’ Then they narrowed. ‘He’s not going to mess me about. I’m not that easy to push around.’
I exchanged glances with Ingrid. Clare was a brave woman, there was no doubt about it.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘That leaves you with three choices. You could say nothing and hope, you could go to the police, or I could go and see Owen.’
‘Last time you did that you nearly got yourself killed!’ Ingrid said.
‘I know. But Clare’s right, someone has to stand up to him.’
‘What do you think about going to the police?’ Ingrid asked Clare.
‘I don’t know. I’m nervous about that. The threat was pretty explicit. What do you think, David?’
I considered it. ‘Knowing Owen, if you talk to the police there’s a good chance he’ll carry out his threat.’
‘Whereas if you talk to Owen,’ Ingrid said to me, ‘he’ll kill you first, and then Clare.’ She quite clearly didn’t like that option.
‘What if I talked to Guy? Guy could talk Owen out of harming Clare.’
‘He might,’ said Ingrid. ‘But you and he are hardly best mates at the moment, are you? He blames you for all of this. And he’s not in the most stable frame of mind.’
‘I think he’ll listen to me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m willing to take the risk. Short of Clare calling Silverman to say that she wants to reject the Champion Starsat deal, I can’t see what else we can do.’ Ingrid and I turned to Clare. ‘Well?’
She thought for a moment. ‘If you’re prepared to talk to Guy and Owen, then do it,’ she said, eventually.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘We’ll give it a go. You say Guy’s at Ninetyminutes?’
‘He said he’d be there all evening,’ said Ingrid. ‘And I’m coming with you.’
‘Oh, no you’re not,’ I said. ‘It might be dangerous.’
‘Of course it’s dangerous,’ said Ingrid. ‘But if you two are going to risk your lives, I don’t see why I shouldn’t too.’
I could see there was no point in arguing with her. ‘All right. Where will you be?’ I asked Clare.
‘Mel wanted me to meet her at Howles Marriott. If we don’t hear anything from Mercia Metro TV before midnight then Derek will send a fax from his house to Champion Starsat accepting their offer. We’ve already drafted it. As the company’s lawyer, Mel wants to be involved. Since she’s in Guy’s pocket, neither Derek nor I are too happy with that. I think she’s hoping that if I’m with her and a deal comes through from Mercia Metro, we can draft whatever papers are necessary on the spot. I don’t know. She was pretty insistent, though.’
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ I said. ‘Lawyers’ offices have plenty of security, even at night, so you should be safe from Owen. We’ll come and pick you up when we’ve had a chance to talk to Guy. Depending on what he says, we can figure out somewhere safe for you to go.’
‘OK,’ said Clare, downing her whisky. ‘What are we waiting for?’
Clare took the first passing taxi to Howles Marriott’s office off Chancery Lane and Ingrid and I took the second.
‘Are you sure Guy will be there?’ I asked her.
‘I think so. Hang on. I’ll check.’
She pulled out her mobile and dialled a number. ‘Hello, Guy, it’s me... Any news?... Nothing?... OK, just checking. Bye.’
‘He’s there?’
‘Yes.’
‘How’d he sound?’
‘Tense.’
‘Do you think Owen’s with him?’
‘I don’t know. He left with the rest of us. I suppose he might have come back. I could hardly ask Guy, could I?’
‘No.’
In silence we pondered the possibility that Owen might be in the office with Guy. It was a risk we would just have to take.
We were taking big risks. People had died. More people might die. Including Ingrid and me.
I worked through the logic of what we were about to do. It held together. Just.
I thought I understood Guy. He would be pretty strung out. I knew that Ninetyminutes meant everything to him. But I also knew that our friendship meant something. He wouldn’t callously kill me. Or Ingrid. Nor would he stand by and let Owen harm us. I was pretty sure of that. Wasn’t I?
I would just have to trust him.
The taxi turned right off Clerkenwell Road down the much quieter Britton Street. We stopped outside the familiar building and I paid the driver. He disappeared, leaving Ingrid and me on the empty pavement looking up to where Guy was sitting, we hoped, alone.
I glanced across at her. Her face was pinched. She was as nervous as me.
‘You really don’t have to do this,’ I said. ‘I can go in by myself.’
‘I know.’
‘It might be dangerous. You might get hurt.’
She turned to me and smiled, a small nervous smile. ‘So might you. I’m coming with you.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s go, then.’
We took the stairs up to the fourth floor. We pushed open the door bearing the ninetyminutes.com logo and entered the large open-plan room.