Ugley Business (21 page)

“
Yes
.”

“This man says he is dead. He put explosives in his mobile phone. He just blew him up.”

I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

She said something else to the phone, listened and nodded.

“He says you’re next.”

She handed the phone back and I took it, totally numb. Janulevic wasn’t on Docherty’s side. Did that mean Docherty was innocent?

Oh,
shit
.

“Is this all a joke?” the starlet asked. “Like your murdery mystery things? Agatha Christie?”

“No,” I said. “No joke. Not funny.” I was starting to shake. “Everyone go back up to the castle and get dressed and get in the helicopters and go home. Party’s over. Go on, go.
Go
!”

They drifted away, shooting me puzzled looks, quite a few of them muttering about taking a joke too far, and I was left standing there, feeling cold with horror, staring at the bobbing waves and splintered boats. A few residents were poking about, saying angry things about the state of their property, but I wasn’t listening.

“Sophie?” someone said from behind me, and I turned to see Penny standing there, huddled into little jersey shorts and a huge sweater with Team Masters printed on it. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged and nodded.

“What happened?”

“A mistake.”

“Did something get blown up? ‘Cos that’s what it sounded like.”

“Yes,” I said distantly. “My car.”

“Seriously? Was it a nice car?”

“James Bond had one.”

“Jesus.” She lifted up my face. “Why would someone blow up your car?”

“They were after someone else.”

“Who?”

And then a voice came from behind me. “Not me, I hope,” and I turned and saw Luke standing there, soaked through completely, looking utterly frozen and really pissed off, and I flew over and threw myself at him, sobbing with relief at the feel of him in my arms.

He closed his arms around me, wincing.

“Oh God, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he unclawed my fingers from his arm, “a bullet hurt me. You’re just a reminder. Hey, Soph, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were worried about me.”

I slammed a fist against his chest. “Don’t be so bloody flippant. I thought you were dead.”

“Jumped in the water. Got pushed out a bit by the swell.” He rubbed his forehead, which was bleeding where the stitches had opened up. “And I have bad news about the car.”

“Really?”

“I think there’s water in the carburettor.”

I looked up at him, and he was smiling gently, and I smiled too.

“Okay,” he said. “I think we need to get off this island and go talk to Docherty—”

“Erm,” I said, and he looked at me. “About Docherty?”

“Yes?”

“The bomb was meant for him. Janulevic wired his mobile.”

Luke stared at me. “And you know this how?”

“He just called me.”

We walked back up to the house and I told him about the call. “He says I’m next. Maybe I ought to get a new phone.”

Luke took the little Nokia out of my pocket and looked at it. “Did you get his number?”

“ID withheld.”

“Any numbers in here you want to keep?”

“None that you don’t have.”

“Good.” He tossed the phone up in the air over the cliff, borrowed my gun and shot the phone into a lot of small pieces. They fell through the early morning like little bits of confetti.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the gun back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“As soon as I get some dry clothes on I will be.” He looked at me sideways. “You really were worried, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, annoyed that he was right. “If you get killed I’ll have to find a new partner. Or work with Maria, and that’s just too Cagney and Lacey for me.”

We went back up to our rooms and found Angel sitting on her bed, clawing at the sheets anxiously.

“Oh my God! Are you all right?”

We shrugged and nodded. “You didn’t follow the rest of the household down to see?” Luke asked.

“Sophie told me to stay here.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. You went really white, then you got your gun out and told me to stay here and ran off looking murderous.”

Oh. Yes, now I thought about it, I might have done that.

Luke was looking very amused. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Want to join me?”

“No.” Liar.

He went off, grinning, and I just caught a glimpse of him removing his shirt before he shut the door.

“Sophie,” Angel said, “you’re drooling.”

I licked my lips. “God, Angel, I’m in trouble.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I thought he was dead and it was like the world had ended. I have a serious thing for him.”

Angel smiled. “Oh, that,” she said. “We all know about that. I thought you meant that explosion. Was it an explosion?”

I nodded miserably. “The Vanquish has vanished.”

She clapped her hand to her mouth. “What happened?”

There was a knock on the door, and I opened it to see Penny looking in. “Is Angel there?”

I pulled back the door and let her in.

“Angel, are you all right?”

She nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you had the party moved down here because you were getting stalked, and then someone blew up Sophie’s car…”

“They blew it up?”

I nodded. “Actually, it was Docherty’s car. And it was his phone that exploded. The car just sort of went along with it.” I shuddered. Imagine if I’d brought the phone into the house with me? It could have been in my bag, by my bed. I could have been dead by now.

I closed my eyes tight, and when I opened them my gaze fell on the guitar. The key. The key had something to do with this all.

“Angel, that key,” I said, “can I see it again?”

She fetched it from her bedside. “I’ve been looking at it, but it isn’t familiar.”

I turned it over in my hands. It was big and heavy, a proper old fashioned Victorian kind of key.

“Maybe it’s for a lock that doesn’t exist any more,” Penny suggested. “Like your front door. Didn’t your mum have all the locks updated?”

My shoulders slumped. That could be it.

“But why would your dad put it inside his guitar?” I said. “Do you play that often?”

“No. It makes me too sad. I just brought it with me because I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving it to—to whoever’s stalking me.”

I nodded. A security blanket. A very musical and not too comfy security blanket, but still.

“And he never mentioned anything about it to you? Or your mum? They never said anything?”

She shrugged. “Not that I remember.”

The bathroom door opened, and Luke came out, wearing a towel and some water and not much else. I licked my lips without even realising it, and he looked the three of us over.

“Please tell me you were having a pillow fight,” he said.

“Enough with the pillow fights,” I said. “Do you ever think of anything else?”

His eyes met mine, and I guess I knew the answer to that.

He disappeared back into his bedroom, and Penny shook her head at me.

“What?”

“You. Eyes like saucers. Not that I can blame you. That man looks good half-naked.”

“You should see the real deal,” I said mistily, and they exchanged glances.

“So you are sleeping with him?” Penny asked uncertainly.

“Not at present.”
But give me ten seconds to get in that room and things might change.

“So you were, but now you’re not?”

I nodded.

“Why not?”

I tried to remember, but right now it was damn hard.

Luke came back out, and I made myself look at something else. But I was still aware of him, still knew he was wearing the tight black T-shirt and leather jeans of his costume. Not a lot of men can pull off leather trousers, but Luke could.

Don’t think about pulling off leather trousers, don’t…

“That key,” he nodded at it, “you think it’s important?”

“Well, it’s a secret. It could be important.”

He nodded. “We need to go back. Get Docherty out and apologise to him—” I felt my face flush, “—and see if he knows anything about it.”

“How are we going to get back?” I asked. “My car is rubble and yours will take until tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t,” Luke began, but Penny suddenly leapt up.

“I have an idea,” she said, and ran from the room.

We all stared after her.

“She’s a model,” Angel said eventually, and we nodded slowly.

“It’s big, old key,” I said. “Big, old lock.” And then it came to me. How thick am I? “Angel,” I said, “do you have a key to the crypt?”

Angel hailed me as a genius and even Luke looked pretty impressed. But as I was collecting my belongings, ready for a long trip in Luke’s Vectra, I grumbled that it’d be quicker to walk back, and he quickly stopped looking impressed.

“Look, without referring to Jeremy Clarkson, tell me why you hate my car?”

“It’s ugly and slow—”

“It’s not slow.”

“What’s its top speed, then?”

“A hundred and fourteen.”

“The Vanquish could do nearly two hundred.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at me, and I remembered him whispering the same fact in my ear not so very long ago.

“It’s a 1.6,” I said, because I’d looked up these facts to use them against Luke. “It takes thirteen seconds to get to sixty—”

“Sixty-two,” Luke said, and Angel watched us like a tennis spectator.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she said.

“Nothing,” Luke said. “Go and get your stuff, Soph.”

I made a face, but went off anyway. My dad had a Vectra for a couple of weeks once when his car got smashed up in an ice accident. It was the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever been in, and I drive a Defender.

I packed up my bag and slung it over my shoulder and went back out into Angel’s room, and was just about to ask if she was coming with us when the door came open again and Penny rushed in, towing a sleepy-eyed Daniel behind her. She was brandishing a set of keys.

“Daniel,” she said, “has very kindly agreed to lend you his helicopter for the ride home.”

I gaped. “You have a helicopter?”

“Three,” he said, yawning. “Luke, I’m sure my dad said you were RAF.”

“Used to be.”

“Can you fly a helicopter?”

“I can fly anything.”

Bully for him.

Daniel handed the keys over. “Silver and blue Bell with Masters F1 written on the side.”

And then it clicked. “Daniel Masters, as in Mastercars?”

“Yep.”

Bloody hell. This guy’s dad makes cars that make the Vanquish look like Eastern Bloc dinky toys.

“What happened to your car?” he asked me. “Didn’t I see you with an Aston?”

I nodded. “It got blown up.”

“How very Stephanie Plum.”

I turned to Luke. “See, he knows who Stephanie Plum is.”

Luke raised his hands. “If I get out of this with both eyes intact, I’ll read the damn books, okay?”

I nodded, satisfied.

Well, not really satisfied, not even by a long shot, but you know what I mean.

“Are you ready to go?” Luke asked, and I nodded.

We thanked Daniel and Penny and I called Macbeth to come and look after Angel for us. I couldn’t see him objecting. Then we went outside and stood looking across the lawn, past the border of rosebushes, to the sea far below.

“Tide’s not out yet,” I said. “How are we going to get across?”

“We could swim,” Luke said, “but I’ve had enough of that for one day. Can you row?”

“Very well, but only if you want to go round in very small circles.”

He rolled his eyes and we went down to the quay, where there were still a lot of residents poking about. One of the cottages had a hubcap embedded in the wall.

“Was that your car that exploded?” a woman with a mean face asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“Look at what it’s done to my house! That’s Grade II listed, that is. I want your insurance details. I’m not paying for this damage.”

I sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry about your house, but frankly I don’t actually give a crap.”

She stared for a second, then screwed up her face, like a baby about to start bawling, but I turned away and ignored her. Luke was standing by a small dingy that bobbed about in the little harbour, watching me and shaking his head.

“Do I have a neon sign above my head that says ‘Freaks Wanted’?” I asked, and he grinned.

“No, but you have one that’s advertising for trouble.” He stepped into the boat and held out his hand for me. I’m not very good with boats. I don’t like the floor to be moving. I stumbled and fell into him and he pulled me upright, holding me for a few seconds.

“You okay?”

No. My heart was about to explode.

I managed a nod and quickly sat down, and Luke untied the rope mooring us, took the oars and pushed us away from the little crowd by the harbour, one of whom started yelling, “Hey, that’s my boat!”

“Thanks,” I called back, and we ignored him.

I actually had to look away after a while, because when Luke pulled on the oars his biceps bulged and I started to get dizzy. I needed to get some, and I needed to get some of him. And soon. As soon as we got home, I was locking him in my room and swallowing the key.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I managed to ask. “Your arm?”

“Yep,” Luke said. “You can kiss it better later.”

Hoo boy.

It only took a few minutes to row over to the mainland beach, pull the little boat up to dry sand, and then start across the beach with wet feet, feeling very Ursula Andress. Although with slightly more clothes and not so much tan, obviously.

Livvy had arranged for all the helicopters to be parked in an overspill car park on the edge of the mainland village. As we walked through the pretty streets, people were starting to come awake, old men with leathery faces going down to the harbour, a milkman whining around in his little truck, a florist getting in her van and driving off to the flower markets.

“I like this time of day,” I said to Luke, and he looked as surprised as I felt. “I mean, not when I have to go to work, obviously, but when I can just look at the sun and smell the air. It’s all clean and fresh.”

He nodded. “This time of year, it’s the only time you can be cool.”

I disagreed. Luke was cool all the time. And, against all laws of physics, really, really hot.

“Do you really know Daniel Masters’s dad?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Vaguely. Friends with my parents.”

“I thought—” I began, then stopped. Luke looked at me sharply.

“What?”

“I—” might as well go for it “—I thought Maria said your parents were dead.”

He gave a curt nod. “Car crash when I was seven. I didn’t hear about until the next day. I was at school.”

Jesus. “I’m sorry,” I said, and Luke gave me a tight smile.

“Not your fault. Just don’t ever get in a Morgan, okay?”

“I think it’s fairly safe to say I won’t.”

We reached the car park, which was really just a meadow with a tariff board stuck at one end, and I stood for a few seconds, looking at the small fleet of helicopters. Livvy had obviously pulled in a few favours. Aside from Daniel’s Mastercar ‘copter, there were machines advertising football teams and banks, diamond companies and what we decided might be a polo team or two.

“Talk about millionaire’s playground,” I said, and Luke nodded.

“Pretty impressive.”

We found the Masters helicopter, a very attractive machine in shades of blue and shimmering silver, and Luke opened it up. Inside were two seats looking out of the huge windscreen, and then a row of three seats behind. They were all finished in plush leather and it was all very impressive.

Luke took a seat at a bank of confusing controls and looked them over. He glanced at me. “Are you getting in?”

“I’ve never been in a helicopter before.”

“So?”

I made a face. Obviously he didn’t understand what a rite of passage it was. I climbed up into the cockpit.

“Where should I sit?”

“Wherever you like. Just not here.” He put on a pair of headphones and switched on the radio, and as I tried to choose between the great view of both Luke and the countryside versus some much-needed sleep on the back seats, he radioed ATC and got permission to fly us back. He peered at the dash. “Hope we have enough fuel.”

“What do you mean, you hope?”

He grinned. “I’m joking. It’s a full tank. You ready? No walking about while we’re in the air.”

I strapped myself into the front seat. “Ready.”

“Okay.” He flicked about a million switches and the rotor blades started up with a whump, whump, above us, and then the engines got louder and whirrier, and we started to rise into the air.

My fingers were gripping the arms of the seat.

“You’re not scared of flying, are you?” Luke glanced at me.

“No,” I said, “I’ve just never been quite so close to the outside before.”

“When I was learning to fly they took us up in little bubble ‘copters with no sides in them.”

“Like on
M*A*S*H
?”

“Yeah. Only without the stretchers.”

We got up to a steady height and I made the mistake of looking down. “Oh, Jesus.”

“What?”

“It’s kinda high.”

“Flying generally is.”

“I’m not so good with heights.”

“But you’re five foot ten.”

“So? This is a lot higher than five foot ten.”

Luke smiled, but didn’t comment. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep? It’ll probably take us a couple of hours to get home.”

“It took me five to get here.”

Luke glowered. “It took me seven.”

“That’s because your car goes faster when it’s being towed.”

“I hit rush hour, okay?”

I smiled and closed my eyes. “Whatever.”

I had forgotten quite how tired I was, but as soon as I closed my eyes I settled into blissful sleep, lulled away by the whirr of the blades above us. As I drifted away I made up a mental to-do list: check key in crypt door, rescue Séala, find and stop Janulevic, apologise to Docherty, call vet, have sex with Luke, sleep.

It was only the last one I had any confidence about.

The quietening of the engine woke me, the same instinct that used to kick in on long car journeys when I was a kid, waking me in time to see our destination sliding up to meet us. Luke was taking off his headphones, his hair rumpled and sexy.

“Are we there?”

“Well, we need to cross the road, but yeah, we’re there. Sleep well?”

My neck was cramped and I had pins and needles in some interesting places, but I nodded. “Very smooth flying.”

“It’s what I do. Well, what I did.”

“Do you miss it?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think I did, but now I do.”

We picked up our stuff and got out of the helicopter. Luke patted its nose, the same way I thank Ted after a long journey, and I had to hide a smile.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked.

“Load up your gun, unlock the crypt, and let’s see what we can find.”

“Good plan.”

“It’s a shame you’re not still in the Lara outfit. You’d fit right in.”

“Well, you’re still quite Spikey. You won’t look out of place.”

Angel’s church reared elegantly from the trees, looking like a picture on a jigsaw puzzle I had as a little girl. There were birds singing and the road seemed a long way away. In fact, as we approached the creepy, half-hidden crypt, the whole modern world seemed a long way away.

“You ever been in here?” Luke asked.

“No. I don’t think anyone ever has.”

“Someone must have.”

“Not anyone living.” I took the key out of my little Lara backpack and started searching through the clinging foliage for a door. The crypt was made of stone, low-slung and crumbly where the ivy had dug in. There were things scuttling in the leaves, things hanging and flitting and leaving sticky trails. I shuddered.

“What?” Luke said.

“Bugs,” I said, and he rolled his eyes.

“I could have picked a squaddie. I could have picked a copper. I could have picked a bloody ex-con, or even a current con, but no, I had to go and choose the girl who’s afraid of flying and creepy crawlies.”

“I’m not scared of flying,” I said. “It’s heights.”

“It’s the same thing!”

“No, it’s not, if I don’t know I’m high up I don’t get scared. And I am not afraid of creepy crawlies. I just don’t like them. And if you let that fucking huge great big spider there get anywhere near me, I will shoot you dead.”

I had frozen completely at the sight of the creature, who was nearly as big as my hand and had a fat brown body with stripy legs. It looked like one of those horrible loud women who shout stuff out on talk shows. Bleurgh.

Luke shook his head at me and dug out a knife from his boot. He cut away the hanging curtains of ivy, sending the spider rushing away and revealing a small door set well back, down a couple of worn, slimy steps.

“You get the feeling no one has been down here in a very, very long time?” I said, and Luke nodded. “You get the feeling you should have your gun out?”

“Pretty much,” Luke said. “God, I’m turning into you.”

I scowled at him for that, but it was pretty halfhearted. I pulled my fleece around me a little closer and checked the gun at my side. Docherty’s gun, with the laser sight. I was hoping I wouldn’t need it, but the dramatist in me was imagining zombies and mummies and vampires in there. Although if they were Spike-like vampires, then of course I wouldn’t shoot.

Everyone knows that doesn’t kill them, anyway.

I got out the key, put it in the rusted padlock, and nothing happened. It wouldn’t turn.

I looked up at Luke. “Of course, it could be another lock,” I said, and he rolled his eyes and took over. But he couldn’t turn the key either.

“It fits,” he said. “How many other old locks like that are there around here? It’s got to be this one.”

“So why won’t it open?”

“It’s bloody ancient. Stand back.”

I wondered what he was going to do, and then I saw him get out his gun and aim it at the lock.

I jumped away, there was a loud report, and then I looked back and Luke was chucking the wrecked padlock on the ground and shoving at the door. Once, twice, three times, and then it came open with a mighty creak, and he half-fell inside, and a massive cloud of dust and foul air flew out, choking me.