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“Listen.” She stopped, hands on her hips. “You know when I said that I used to see someone, that they left me, that they died. Well, I think you should know. I killed him.”

“Oh.” She could see from Tom’s face that for once he was lost for words.

“So for me, there’s no such thing as just a kiss. Not anymore. So just drop it, okay?”

“Fine.”

She wasn’t sure why she had told him this, perhaps to warn him off, perhaps to explain why she had reacted as strongly as she had. One thing was for certain, though. She felt a lot better for it.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

CENTRAAL STATION, AMSTERDAM, THE NETHERLANDS
5:32 P.M.

The phone, moist where the molded plastic had been pressed against his skin, trilled hypnotically in Tom’s ear. On the other side of the street, a man was selling sweets, weighing them out into small paper bags for the children clamoring around his cart.

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

He shut his eyes as he waited, resting his head against the phone booth’s glass wall.

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

Unseen to him, the flow of people heading out of Centraal Station thickened briefly as a newly arrived train spewed out its passengers, than thinned out.

Ring-ring, ring-click.

Tom’s eyes snapped open. As ever, there was silence from the other end. Archie always waited for the person calling him to speak first. It was his own primitive call-screening system.

“Archie, it’s Fel — it’s Tom.”

“Tom, thank God it’s you. I’ve been trying to call since last night. Where the hell are you staying?”

Tom, sensing the panic in his voice, ignored the question.

“What’s happened?”

“He found me last night.”

“Who?”

“Cassius.”

Tom’s response was instantaneous.

“Bullshit. You don’t know that. No one’s ever seen him.” But his tone was also hopeful. He wanted Archie to be wrong. Needed him to be wrong.

“I didn’t say I saw him. But it was him all the same. He told me that we only had a day left. That if you didn’t deliver he’d find me. Then you.”

“Shit,” Tom hissed, his voice muffled by the handset. His eyes flicked absently over the woman gesticulating in the phone booth next to him, her high-pitched voice vibrating through the glass. She seemed to be upset about something.

“You still with that FBI bird?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you playing at?”

“I told you. They think I broke into Fort Knox. I’m trying to sort this mess out.”

“And took what exactly?”

“Some coins. Expensive coins.” Tom sighed heavily. “I think they’re being sold to someone in Istanbul but don’t know who to.”

“Istanbul? That’s easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s where Cassius is having his off-site tomorrow night. It’s what these eggs are for.”

“So he wants the coins and the eggs for the same gig,” Tom breathed.

“That’s why he’s set the deadline. I told you before, the rumor is that he had some deal go sour on him and he’s lost a lot of money. He’s scraping together what he can, even throwing in some of his own stuff and calling in a lot of old favors to make sure it goes well. If he hasn’t got enough lots he’ll have to call the whole bloody thing off. I don’t imagine that would do his credibility any good.”

“Where?”

“It’s very hush-hush. Strictly invitation only. All I know is that it’s tomorrow night in Istanbul.”

Tom closed his eyes. The woman in the adjacent booth was crying now, small tears springing from her eyes, dropping to the galvanized floor.

“So are you up for this job or not?” Archie asked, his tone more insistent now.

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“It’s not a definite no, then?” He sounded encouraged.

“It was. Now I’m not so sure.” Tom breathed in deeply and leaned back against the glass door. The woman in the adjacent cabin had left now, her place taken by a blind man who had set his white stick to one side and was feeling his way round the Braille characters set onto each of the keys.

Tom didn’t say anything for a few seconds. When he did, his voice was thoughtful, questioning, even.

“You know, when I got back to the hotel last night, after I met you, I overheard Jennifer on the phone to her boss.”

“What was she saying?”

“It was just the tail end of the conversation. But basically that he could count on her to do whatever it took to get a result. That she doesn’t care what happens to me after this.”

“You see.” Archie was triumphant. “I told you. You can’t trust these people.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense because it’s who she is.”

“But I can’t just leave and do the job.”

“Why not?”

“All sorts of reasons. I’ve left my watch back at the hotel for a start.”

“It’s just a watch. I’ll buy you another one.”

“My mother left it to me.”

“Well, go back and get it then. You’ve got time.”

“What about my gear?” Tom was searching for excuses like a drowning man fighting to keep his head above the surface.

“Everything’s at the usual place. I sent it over last night.”

“How did you know I would need it?” Tom almost whispered, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Because I know you, Tom. And I know you’re one of the good guys. I knew that you wouldn’t just abandon me.”

Tom pressed the receiver against his head. What choice did he have? He could probably look after himself, but could he really just abandon Archie to Cassius’s attack dogs? And how long before they caught up with him, too?

“I’m sorry, mate,” Archie continued. “I would have liked to believe her offer was real. That you had a real shot to get out clean. But you heard what she said. We’re on our own. We always have been. We have to do what’s right for us.”

“Okay.” Tom’s voice was ice. “You win. I’ll get Cassius his egg. Then we bail.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING, WASHINGTON, D.C.
1:42 P.M.

Bob Corbett leaned toward the speakerphone, his white shirt collar pulling at his smooth, tanned neck as he strained to catch Jennifer’s voice.

“Say that again.”

“I said he’s out.” Jennifer’s voice floated into the room like expensive perfume. “I told him I had to do some stuff and to amuse himself for a few hours. We’re sharing a room, so he understood.”

“Okay, Browne, thanks. We’ll see what we can come up with on that Istanbul lead at our end. Call in later tomorrow.” Corbett pressed the button on the speakerphone and the line went dead.

“Sharing a room?” John Piper snarled, his face red. “What the fuck’s she thinking. Three days ago Kirk was our number-one suspect. Now she’s sharing a room with him? What sort of a show are you running, Bob?”

“It’s called a cover, John,” Corbett hissed. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, either, but there was no way he was going to let Piper score points from it. “I thought you used to be in the field? You don’t always get to choose where you stay and who you stay with.”

He swiveled round in his chair and turned to face the other people seated opposite him. The early afternoon sun slanted through the metal slats of the blind, projecting black stripes across the far wall and the round table’s polished wooden surface.

“So. What do you think?”