Chapter 24
Tilda Dent was packing her own suitcase to take to Dow Bank House.
Her personal assistant had gone ahead with the bodyguards.
She hadn’t wanted to join the others just yet but the detective downstairs needn’t know that.
She was tired of answering questions. It was all so confusing and the female policewoman seemed to think they were all hiding something.
In New York, nosy cops were paid off with trips on yachts and tickets to Broadway.
Here, the female cop seemed to be fixated on digging deep like that fanatical podcaster who refused to disappear.
A light tapping on the door made her pause and sigh.
All she wanted was a minute alone. The conference had ended in disaster and she’d have to explain to the board of directors if their stock price took a hit.
The best policy was keeping it quiet. In a backwater like this, only local journalists would be interested in the story; it was in everybody’s best interests to make sure that’s how it stayed.
‘Come in!’
Paul Burlington opened the door and poked his head around it.
She smiled. ‘It’s you.’
He closed the door behind him and walked to the window.
‘You know, it’s only five weeks until launch now we can go ahead,’ she said.
He looked depressed, like a puppy who can’t jump high enough to get on the sofa.
He came close to her and put his hands onto her face. She couldn’t stand it. It was a habit of his to enclose her, to capture her, and to consume her. At first, his enthusiasm had intrigued and seduced her but now she found it suffocating. She shrugged him off.
‘You’re upset?’ he asked.
‘I’m still at work, Paul; I need to figure out how to contain this thing before it goes viral. Did we request a media blackout?’
‘Yes, but the police have requested some of the phones. Apparently, there’s footage of the lobby when he fell.’
‘Jesus Christ, really?’
Paul nodded.
‘Who has it?’
‘The police, at the moment.’
‘Who recorded it?’
‘Don’t worry, she’s been blacklisted already, and she’s in trouble with the police.’
‘Good.’ Tilda sat on the edge of her bed and put her head in her hands.
‘I believe it’s police protocol to wipe any evidence they find. I’ve got people working on it,’ he said.
She got up and paced up and down and he smiled at her. She stopped.
‘How can you be so nonchalant? You’re as chilled out as Clem after a pill, for God’s sake.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said, still smiling.
‘Oh come on!’ She laughed. ‘You’ll try anything, but I guess you don’t need it when you drink so much of that disgusting drink. Give me strength! Stop staring at me like that. Sex is out of the question.’
‘Is it? We’ve nothing else to do but fuck. What better excuse do we have other than we’re trapped here together until it’s time to leave? Hank has gone, the heavies have gone, Jamie is gone…’
‘Has she interviewed you yet?’
Paul shook his head.
‘Surely you’re needed down there? Are your hands shaking? How much of that have you had?’
She referred to the sachets of YouthBlast he guzzled as if it were going out of fashion. A part of her felt guilty for what they were doing to him, but her job was to monitor not mother him. A tiny shaft of lust filtered through Tilda’s groin, and she found herself reciprocating his grin.
But a phone call pierced the mood, and she hesitated for a second before answering it.
Paul walked to the balcony and opened the sliding door.
The view from Tilda’s room was spectacular.
It wasn’t the Alps, but beauty didn’t always have to be big; it could be small and quiet, like this minute little lake hidden away from everything. ‘What a place to die,’ he whispered.
Inside, Tilda listened carefully.
‘Yes, I understand that, so pay them more. Everybody has a price. Failing that, threaten their families.’
She hung up and joined him on the balcony.
‘You love it here?’ she asked him.
‘It’s so peaceful. Who was that?’
‘London. They’re sending a couple of suits up here to make sure we get NDAs from all the delegates and media-bots before they leave.’
‘Good idea. What about the ones who’ve already left?’
‘I spoke to each one personally.’
‘So, we have several hours to kill,’ he said.
She pressed a button to close the blinds, and darkness fell upon the room. Only a shaft of sunlight and a warm bedside lamp illuminated their bodies as they came together and silently began to undress.
Paul’s skin was already wet with perspiration, and she slid her hand up his back.
‘It makes me sweat,’ he said.
‘Not much longer now,’ she said, soothingly.