The answer hit him as she reached the pinnacle, over thirty feet above. She wasn’t planning on coming down. Alive, at least.
‘No, wait!’ he shouted—
Too late.
She thrust her hands into the wiring.
The neon flickered, sparks sizzling from the sculpture’s summit as thousands of volts surged through her. People screamed at the sight. Smoke coiled from Madirakshi’s body as she shuddered uncontrollably, the vibrations shaking the whole tower . . .
Something broke loose. With the searing lightning-crack of an electrical short, the display went dark, and the woman fell away.
For a moment, it seemed as though the hollow man was trying to catch her . . . but he was just an illusion. High-powered lasers seared across her back as she dropped towards the holographic generator, uniform and hair bursting into flames before the blazing corpse smashed down spread-eagled on the pedestal. The operator hurriedly shut off the lasers, but the body continued to burn, rising smoke glowing in every colour imaginable as it passed through the beams of the giant projections.
8
New York City
‘What happened to her?’ Nina asked, wondering if she had misheard Eddie over the crackly international phone connection.
‘She electrocuted herself and fell on a hologram that set her on fire,’ he repeated. ‘Probably not what the local tourist board had in mind for their Festival of Light . . . Anyway, she was dead set - literally - on not being caught.’
‘I’ve heard of loyalty to your employer, but jeez,’ she said. ‘And Fernandez is dead?’ The thought was not exactly heartbreaking.
‘Yeah. She practically sliced his head off. We just got a preliminary report on her body - that glass eye of hers was a fake.’
Despite the grim situation, Nina couldn’t help but smile. ‘They usually are.’
‘Ha fuckin’ ha. I mean, it was a trick eye - there was a garrotte wire inside it. Someone’s been getting ideas from Last Action Hero. And by someone, I mean Pramesh Khoil.’
For the second time in less than a minute, she was astonished. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I saw that woman in San Francisco - she brought Khoil a phone just before we got attacked. So unless she was doing some really violent moonlighting, it’s a good bet that he’s connected with this. My guess is that he had Fernandez killed to stop him grassing.’
Thinking back, she remembered the woman. ‘Maybe the phone call was to tell Fernandez to carry out the raid,’ she mused. ‘His Plan A was to ask me for full access to the Talonor Codex - but when I said no, he already had Plan B all ready to go.’
‘Just steal the thing.’
‘Right. So what happens now?’
‘Kit’s going to India to check out the Khoils - he’s willing to take my word that this woman’s the one from Frisco, and he thinks that makes them worth investigating.’
‘And if Interpol finds the Khoils really are behind everything?’
‘Dunno, but I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. Probably be a race between the Saudi General Intelligence Directorate and Chinese External Security to see who can kill ’em first for nicking their countries’ treasures.’
‘What about you?’
He yawned, almost setting her off in sympathy. ‘Doesn’t look like I’m going to get much sleep tonight. I’ve got to finish giving my statement to Interpol, then I’m flying back to New York.’
‘What time is it there now?’ She looked at her watch; it was past seven in the evening.
‘After one in the morning. When are you finishing work?’
‘I’m almost done. I had a fun day explaining to Sebastian Penrose and some State Department people how the director of the IHA got embroiled in another gun battle. You know, I really hoped we’d left this kind of thing behind us.’
‘No such luck, eh?’ He yawned again, then grunted in discomfort.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, just got a sore neck where she cut me.’
‘What? She cut you?’
‘Remember that garrotte? She got the drop on me with it. I’m okay, though.’
Nina’s concern grew. ‘And how did she get the drop on you?’ ‘It wasn’t ’cause of my hearing,’ he said, irritation clear in his voice.
‘I didn’t say it was.’
‘You were thinking it, though. Christ, this is why I didn’t tell you about it before.’
Now she too was annoyed. ‘I was just, y’know, worried about my husband. Jeez!’
‘Okay, okay, sorry. I’m just tired, that’s all. Think I need another coffee or six.’ A further yawn. ‘I’ll let you go. I’ll either give you a call from the flight, or when I get in to JFK.’
‘Have a good trip,’ she said. ‘See you soon.’
‘You too. Bye.’
She ended the call and unsuccessfully tried to suppress another yawn, stretching in her chair. While her day had hardly been as physically exhausting as Eddie’s had unexpectedly become, she still felt drained by the meetings and bureaucracy, and desired nothing more than to collapse into bed.
She finished her last few items of paperwork, then headed out, taking the elevator to ground level and ambling across United Nations Plaza towards First Avenue. Normally she would walk the four blocks to Grand Central Terminal and take the subway, but tonight she just wanted to get home quickly. A cab, then. As usual, the streets around the UN were choked with yellow cabs, but finding one for hire was the tricky part . . .
The roof light on one parked nearby came on. That was a stroke of luck; the driver must have just finished his break. She walked towards it, increasing her pace when she realised she was in competition with a middle-aged man. He saw her speed up and broke into a clumsy jog, both of them reaching the cab simultaneously.
The man grabbed the rear door handle. ‘Sorry, lady.’
‘Hey!’ Nina protested. ‘I saw it first.’
‘Seeing it doesn’t count.’ He opened the door.
The driver rapped on the bulletproof screen between the front and rear seats. ‘The lady was here first.’ His accent was Eastern European, gravelly.
The man started to climb in. ‘Just take me to East 19th Street.’ ‘Hey!’ Another bang on the screen, this time with a clenched fist. ‘I said, the lady was here first. Get the next one, eh?’
After a moment’s hesitation, the man retreated. ‘I - I’ll have your medallion for this,’ he bleated, then huffed sarcastically at Nina. ‘Enjoy your ride.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ she replied with a little smile. She got in, nodding to the driver. ‘Thank you.’
She could see why her rival had backed off - the cabbie was imposing, hard-faced and heavily built, with hair shaved to a stubble. ‘No problem. So, where to?’
Nina gave him the address and sat back as the cab moved off, thinking. Could Pramesh and Vanita Khoil really be involved in the thefts? They certainly had the money to finance Fernandez and his men. But it would be a collection they could never show off to anybody - and how did the Talonor Codex fit into it? It was valuable, yes, and historically important, but hardly on the level of Michelangelo’s David . . .
A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. Thoughts of the Codex inevitably led to Rowan, not only bringing back her feelings of grief, but also the reminder that she had yet to speak to his father. She had been busy, sure . . . but had that just been a way to avoid something of which, she was forced to admit, she was afraid?