"Who were you texting?" asked Tanya, as the private-hire cab pulled to a stop on Candlemaker Row.
"You'll see," Sanguineus said.
They got out and stood on the edge of the nighttime stream of pedestrians at the Angus Cafe, a block down from Greyfriars, on the opposite side of the street.
Sanguineus looked at the cab driver through the open passenger side door and said, "Don't wander far. I'll be calling you in an hour, at most."
He shut the door and took Tanya's arm, leading her across the street to what looked like an old stone cathedral. It was the Frankenstein tavern.
An unshaven man dressed sloppily was sitting on a fold-out canvas stool to one side of the entrance, a coffee cup on his knee. He grinned broadly at them as they approached.
"Now lookee here what Bobby dragged off the grave," he said, pointing his cup at Tanya. "Hallo, Val, sweet thing."
He noticed the questioning, brooding looks on both faces that stared down at him in the traffic noise, the chatter of the passing crowd, the echoes of music from the bar. He shrugged by way of apology. "I was told that the Val girl was coming, maybe with you, San, maybe with a lug."
"Told by who?"
"Ingols. He's up there having dinner with MacG and Maggie."
"What's the score?"
"It's a set-up, but not for you or Tanya, if that's you, Tanya? Hell now, it's not the best light out here and you know how you and Val could pass for twins. No, it's a set up for the Top Banana." Smitchee grinned with the cup at his crooked teeth. "I think I know who the bugger is, but I not be saying who."
Sanguineus nodded. "Is it just the three, then, no one else up there?"
"Not unless MacG has a girlfriend. I got the landlady to vouch he don't. He's a live-alone. I don't think it's a red flag, San. Ingols has a job for you, but I must say, he'll think Tanya here is Valentina, and I don't know what he'll want to do with her. You know, though, don't you, that everybody and their brother have been looking for Tanya? Top Banana wants her dead and buried. But then, Ingols is gonna turn the tables on him, so that might mean that Ingols wants Tanya safe. Eh? You think so too?"
Sanguineus looked down the street, up at the steep roofs and clusters of chimney stacks. "I can't think why Ingols wouldn't want her safe," he said, "she's worth ten of his agents." He glanced with appraisal at the fidgety hand that held the cup, then at the narrowed cautious eyes. "But if Valentina is close to the Top Banana or to D'Arc, then Ingols might be a threat to Tanya tonight if he thinks she's Valentina."
Sanguineus turned his head toward her, as if to listen to her breathing.
Tanya slipped her arm through his, her face lifted and her breath like minty toothpaste as her lips parted and her eyes stared steadily into his.
"I haven't seen Valentina since I was recruited by Red Rum," she said. "That was fourteen years ago. But I've had people say to me that they saw me at times and in places where I knew I hadn't been. I never mentioned this to Red Rum because I was afraid they'd think I was crazy. Even Francois Benz said once that he met with me someplace, at the Palais Maillot, if I remember right, and I know I wasn't there. It wasn't me. He thought I was lying to him. But I wasn't lying. He said he showed me pictures of you and asked me if I knew you. He said I denied it."
"When was this?"
"After the Hysterium job, when I squirted that tar and glue shit on you. I tried to find out what happened to Hyacinth Furies, your assistant, but Samson was no help. I thought Benz might know, because he had contacts in Whitestone."
"You're saying that Valentina has been impersonating you all these years?"
"Yeah. Think about it. She could profit off it, pulling off scams in my name, with people I've dealt with through Red Rum. I can see D'Arc involved in it, feeding her information, and she him. And now that Whitestone knows about us, she could screw things up for us by having our analysts and negotiators, our contacts, thinking she is me."
Sanguineus probed her eyes. She was so good at lying that no polygraph expert could trip her up. In her eyes he saw nothing but sincerity. But how much weight could he put on that?
He said to her, "I want you to stay with Smitchee. Go in the bar and have a good time. I'll meet you later."
Smitchee tossed his cup. He got up and folded the canvas and aluminum stool. "That makes me nervous," he said, standing back from them. "Supposing she's Val? Can we tell one way or the other? I don't need Val putting a knife in me ribs. She can go dance with Frankenstein, but me, I be leaving."
"You're staying or I'll knife you myself," Sanguineus said sternly. "Go in with her. Stay together. I'll reimburse you and then some, when I've found out what the fuck Ingols is up to. It looks like MacGalt may be off the hook."
"I'd rather--" Tanya began.
"Rather, hell. Stay with Smitchee. Sing a little karaoke. I'll be back within the hour."
Gerard opened the door and stepped aside. He did not look at Sanguineus after the first eye contact. He closed the door and went ahead into the sitting room where fresh logs had been put in the fire.
Sanguineus glanced at Maggie seated to the left of the fireplace, a glass of wine held demurely in both hands, her legs crossed and her eyes flitting over him like a moth around a candle flame. "Good evening," she said.
Sanguineus said nothing. He was watching Ingols rising from his chair to the right of the fireplace, the blue serge suit catching the light in serpentine glimmers. The small man with the thinning frizzy hair followed his pointed nose to Sanguineus and held out a hand.
"I could wish it was you we evaluated in the Lusk," he said, his handshake firm and dry. He was smiling at the intended humor of his remark, but in his bespectacled eyes there was frustration. "Tanya was all we had hoped she was. Resilient, impregnable of mind, devious in the extreme, self-sufficient, brave as hell. And loyal. Loyal to Red Rum. We got nothing out of her that we didn't already know. And that's another mark in her favor, she was able to intuit what we knew and what we didn't. As a result, Black Eagle has given the ASMA contract to Red Rum. Our director has so informed Hermann Claus. But it was too bad that Tony thought Tanya was his lover, Valentina Vizconde, and aided her in escaping us before we had explained our motive to her and made compensation. We've been looking for her, you may know. Sorry to be so long winded, but I want you to see things clearly. Tony is in custody. And Tanya--? Is this the girl you're with? Or is Smitchee correct in thinking she's Valentina? Frankly, I think they're the same person, Tanya and Valentina. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the central chair that Gerard, presumably, had vacated.
Sanguineus remained where he was, his hand on the Glock in his jacket pocket and his eyes remaining on Ingols.
"What makes you think they're the same person?" he asked.
"Your erstwhile target, MacGalt, had a visitor today," Ingols said, his hands folded in front of him, fiddling with his cufflinks as he spoke. "Valentina. He is quite sure of it. She had told him earlier about her abduction and exhaustive interrogation. She had proof for him of the Lusk, the secret facilities underground at the Parliament. He himself has just been informed of its existence, tonight, here, and is still in a bit of a shock. And yes, he knew about the Donegal contract on him. But he knew that this was a ruse, by us, to get Red Rum involved over here so that the true target could be taken out in the expert fashion that you and Tanya Wilde so perfectly exemplify. Unfortunately we let Tanya slip out before this could be explained to her, as I said. That she is also Valentina Vizconde is a minor issue, though we would like to clear it up."
Sanguineus was more than half-convinced that Ingols had it right. "What evidence did this Valentina show MacGalt concerning the Lusk?" he asked, feeling that the answer might clinch it.
"Photographs she took of Maggie's original drawings of the project," Ingols replied, smugly.
Sanguineus was stunned. Ingols saw this and took off his spectacles, his long nose quivering.
"What?" he said and looked over at Gerard, who sat at the dining table, facing them, a slice of poundcake between his teeth. Then again Ingols looked quizzically at Sanguineus.
"You're wrong about the two girls being the same person," the assassin said, smiling tentatively.
"How do you mean?"
"When I asked Tanya to show me the proof she had about the Lusk, she played a video she had taken with her cell phone, of Heathcliffe Samson confirming it. Now, if Tanya had pics of architectural drawings, why didn't she show those to me, along with the video? The more proof, the better, right?"
Ingols turned slowly, and twisting a cufflink he went up to the fireplace and stood ruminating.
"Hm," said Maggie. "I never thought for a moment..."
Then feeling the eyes of Sanguineus on her she looked up at him and said, "Valentina is staying at Gerard's cottage, outside Lornaglen. I went to see her myself. I'm quite certain it's Valentina."
"Are there other cottages for rent in that area?" asked Sanguineus.
"Yes," said Gerard, standing up with an effort, stiff-legged. "Two have been rented quite recently. Is your Tanya renting one of them?"
"So she says."
"Now, look," Ingols said, turning to face the room. "MacGalt is the expert in psychology, but I do know this. We see what we expect to see. Ever have a dream where you're talking to your, say, Uncle Joe, and after you awaken you realize that Uncle Joe in your dream looked nothing at all like himself? He looked like a total stranger. But in your dream he was unquestionably Uncle Joe. We see the girl as Valentina because that's who we expect to see. Same with Tanya. If Tanya is who we expect to see, then Tanya is who we see. Am I right, MacGalt?"
"Yes, quite. But shouldn't you be getting on about the real target in this caper? I wouldn't want Sanguineus making a mistake to my detriment."
Ingols shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. On his face was that mix of humor and frustration. He said to Sanguineus:
"Claus has authorized this for you. You may wish to confirm it. But let me add what little I am at liberty to say about our reasons behind it. The Lusk was never intended by us to be a hole for Whitestone. We're disbanding the organization. The Lusk is to be a link in the chain. I can't say anything more. Read between the lines."
Sanguineus found Tanya and Smitchee at a corner table in the Frankenstein. They had been drinking as if it were New Year's Eve and were laughing over a basket of chili fries.
Sanguineus sat next to a suddenly sober Tanya. "Smitch," he said, "I need a stud shooter. Who's the local gunsmith?"
"Ohhh... She's waiting for your order," he said, nodding at the waitress who had followed Sanguineus to the table.
"Fuzzy Navel," she was told, and smearing her smile in the air she hurried off.
"That would be Chance McFarland. But what the hell's a stud shooter?"
"He'll know," Sanguineus said, snapping a debit card on the table. "Take out a hundred pounds for your trouble. I need the stud shooter by ten tomorrow morning. Where do I meet you?"
"The Chockdaw, around back. Best place for that sort of transaction. Call for directions if you need them. But this stud shooter. Just suppose McFarland don't have one?"
"Then you better shit one."
No comments:
Post a Comment