Chapter Thirty-Four
One arm wrapped around her torso, Cross hauled Verity roughly off the ground and slapped his free hand across her mouth to prevent her from screaming. He winced as her flailing heel collided with his shin and for a moment considered if the most satisfying solution to all this would be simply to snap her neck. He could say he found her body at the foot of the trellis - hell, it would even fit with the narrative he was trying to create, nothing more than a tragic accident as she was attempting to make her escape.
Unfortunately, he had far too many questions and was aware that she held many, if not all, of the answers he needed. For the moment, at least, getting those answers took precedence over any enjoyment he might take from choking the life out of her. So instead, he quickly frisked her to make sure she wasn’t stupid enough to still be wearing her microphone. Once assured that they would not be overhead, he released his hold and dropped her to the ground, taking no small amount of satisfaction from the sharp cry of pain she gave when her feet hit the gravelled path.
Verity recovered more swiftly than he’d anticipated, spinning round and slamming her small fists into his chest with a surprising amount of force.
“How!!” she demanded, her voice barely more than whisper but still managing to convey a wealth of frustration. “How could you possibly have known I was going out of the window? I didn’t know myself, until about thirty minutes ago!”
“Because the one thing I knew I could rely on, was that you would deliberately ignore any instruction given.” He grabbed her by the arm and gave her a rough shake. “What the hell were you playing at in there and more to the point, where is my fucking diamond?”
“She took my bag!”
“Who?”
“The other girl, my clone. She grabbed the evening bag before she left. Guess she thought it was part of the outfit. I-I didn’t realise until it was too late. Diamond, phone, everything gone. There was no way I could get it back without chasing her down the stairs and I thought that might attract attention.”
Cross ground his teeth. If that diamond was discovered still in the bag it would blow his attempts at deception wide open. Searching his memory, he recalled the image of Verity’s doppelganger, partially hidden behind a large potted fern and clutching the purse to her chest. Dammit, he’d seen it all, but he hadn’t made the connection. Annoyance at himself morphing into anger at Verity he spun her round and slammed her into the wall. “Why? Why couldn’t you just stick to the sodding plan for once!”
Verity struggled against his grip, chin raised in challenge. “What? Your grand plan? The one which involved a deserted alleyway where I would presumably be met by some goon with a gun?”
Cross paused for a moment as he struggled to regain control of his temper. “Where you would have been met by Mathieu,” he said, leaning closer and careful to enunciate every word.
Verity blinked.“Mathieu?”
“Yes,” he replied, the word hissing from between clenched teeth. “I thought he was the one mutual acquaintance of ours whom you might actually trust, so I asked him to get you safely away from here. Certainly out of the city, and I was hoping out of the fucking country.”
“What?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “You wanted to get me out of here? Why?”
“Because the Eighth Circle is going to have questions. Lots and lots of questions. And you have far too many answers for my comfort. I would rather not have you subjected to another round of interrogation. I don’t think either of us would benefit from that experience.”
He could feel the fight draining out of her, confusion drawing a deep groove between her brows. Then she gave her head a shake and the far more familiar, belligerent expression returned.
“But that doesn’t explain how you knew where I’d be?” she muttered, giving another half hearted pull against his grip.
Cross shrugged and resisted the urge to shake her again. “I could hear traffic in the background when you were changing. I realised you must have opened a window. It felt safe to assume you were looking for an alternate exit.”
“If you wanted me away from here, why didn’t you just let me run?”
“Because I need that damned phone, you stupid bitch. It’s the only thing we have now.” He sighed and with a surprising degree of honesty he added, “And because I wasn’t expecting Henderson actually being on site for this operation. He was meant to be in a hotel room halfway across the city, waiting for my call. I was relying on that distance to get you away from here.”
Verity smirked as she absorbed that information. “Oh, so no one actually followed the plan?”
Cross flinched and wondered if he had time to slap her senseless before bringing her in. Fortunately for Verity, pragmatism won. He didn’t want to have to explain any unexpected bruising.
Perhaps aware that she’d pushed him too far, he saw her wet her lips before she cast a look over her shoulder and asked, “So what now?”
“Now, we’re both going to have to play the hands we’ve been dealt. All the way to the end. You’d better hope that phone you’re carrying proves more interesting to them than any additional information you might hold. And, believe me when I say this, you want me as an ally in this game, not an enemy.”
He paused, needing to see her reaction. She said nothing, but after a moment she swallowed hard and gave a sharp nod.
“Good. Now I’m going to turn my mic back on, don’t say anything you might regret.”
At her sullen nod he reached into his pocket and activated the microphone.
“Can you hear me?”
“Cross? Are you there? What the hell is happening?”
“Sorry about that, sir. I think the signal dropped out for a moment.”
There was a grunt of annoyance from the American, then the man recovered his composure. “We thought we’d lost you, I was about to send one of your men in.”
“No need for that,” Cross replied smoothly. “I have the girl and I’m bringing her to you now,” Hand curling around Verity’s arm in a bruising grip he dragged her out onto the street and down the pavement towards an anonymous black van, making no allowance for fact she was limping in obvious pain as she struggled to keep up.
The door to the van slid open as they approached and Henderson stepped out onto the pavement. He took a moment to adjust the cuffs of his immaculate suit and then inclined his head towards Verity.
“Good to see you again, my dear.”
Cross felt Verity twitch against him and mutter something inaudible in response.
“I want to congratulate you both on an excellent performance. The party is still in full swing and no one seems any the wiser.” He nodded to himself. “Very good work indeed.”
If his nerves weren’t stretched to breaking point, Cross might have found the whole situation amusing. He’d rarely seen Henderson look this impressed. If Verity wasn’t careful she might end up with a job offer she couldn’t refuse.
Eyes still locked on Verity’s face, Henderson extended one hand. “Do you have the device?”
Cross relaxed his grip and gave her a slight shove to get her moving. She swayed for a moment, then limped forward, placing the phone on the outstretched palm.
“Very interesting,” the senior partner murmured, turning the device over in his fingers. He turned to Cross. “Do we know if it’s the phone he was given for the exchange?”
Cross shrugged. “It’s impossible to say just by looking at it. I suppose it could be, or it might be one given to him by Valentina from Club Italia.”
“Well, there’s an easy way to check that.” He opened the phone and gestured for Cross to come closer. “If it’s from your club, you’ll be able to access it, won’t you?”
Cross nodded and stepped forward. All the phones from Eighth Circle London were keyed to his fingerprint in addition to the print of their eventual owner.
“I don’t think it’s charged,” Verity said, and then flinched visibly as both men swung their attention in her direction. “I-I tried to turn it on earlier, but I think it’s dead.”
Henderson nodded. “That can be easily remedied.” He turned back to the van and crooked an impatient finger at one of the men inside. A charging cable was quickly supplied and everyone waited for the device to activate.
Turning his head, Henderson scanned the street. “I think it would arouse less suspicion if we wait out of sight.” He jerked his head towards the van. “Inside, both of you.”
Cross pushed Verity ahead of him towards the open door, but she ground to a standstill when she reached the curb. He was about to give her a rough shove to get her moving when he realised that it wasn’t just natural belligerence that had halted her. Hampered by both the tight skirt and her injured ankle she was unable to manage the deep step up into the van.
Giving a growl of impatience, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her bodily into the back of the vehicle. Once inside, he pushed her onto the wide bench seat at the back, immediately sitting next to her and wedging her firmly against the window.
Pressed tight to his side he could feel her shaking as the door rolled closed and her escape route vanished. Good, he thought, she should be scared, this was all kinds of fucked up and they would both need to be very careful about everything they said and did.
Trying to shake off his own growing tension, Cross shifted his weight against the leather upholstery. “I can’t believe it’s the phone I gave him. Why would he say he’d destroyed it?”
“He obviously didn’t want you taking too close a look at it.”
“Then why didn’t he destroy it?”
Henderson shrugged. “Arrogance, carelessness, stupidity. Take your pick.” The device beeped as it came back to life and he held it out to Cross. “Either way, we should know shortly. If you wouldn’t mind…”
Cross nodded and slowly turned the device over in his fingers, not entirely sure what he was hoping for as a result of his finger print scan. Flipping it open, he placed his finger to the sensor and held his breath. The phone beeped again to accept his print and the screen lit up.
Henderson gave a grunt and said, “So, now we know it’s the phone you gave him.”
Cross nodded.
“Let’s see what he’s been up to, shall we?” Snatching the device back he quickly accessed the sent folder. One eyebrow shot up in surprise.
Cross leaned forward, curious to know what might have prompted the reaction.
Henderson raised his face, his expression icily composed. “It would seem our Mr Vitalie forwarded the location of the exchange on to a third party. I wonder who that might have been?” He tilted the screen towards Cross. “Do you recognise that number?”
Cross did, but couldn’t make sense of it. That was a number that shouldn’t exist anymore? A number belonging to a phone that had long since been lost and wiped. Playing for time he shook his head, “I’d need to check but it doesn’t look familiar.”
Staring at the ceiling he kept his expression blank as his thoughts raced. That mislaid phone had been the beginning of all his concerns over Giancarlo. The fact that he’d been entrusted with a Eighth Circle device and had almost immediately lost it had shown a carelessness that bordered on insult. That the man had then airily demanded another without even an apology, demonstrated the kind of arrogance that had set his teeth on edge. If it hadn’t been for Valentina’s intervention at the time, he would have nixed the entire deal and sent Giancarlo straight back to Italy on the next flight.
His eyes narrowed. Not only had she interceded to keep the deal on track, she’d used her influence over Cross himself to ensure he didn’t report the loss to the board. He’d simply performed a remote wipe of the device and issued Giancarlo with a replacement.
A chill ran down his spine. Would that make him look culpable? If the existence of the second phone proved Giancarlo’s guilt, would his actions at the time implicate him also?
But he couldn’t think of any reason why Giancarlo would have needed two Club phones? What did he have to gain from such a blatant display of incompetence?
The phone pinged as a new message was delivered, breaking his train of thought.
Henderson flipped back to the inbox and his expression hardened, his eyes radiating suppressed anger. “I think this number should be one you recognise?” He said as he held the phone out.
Cross hesitated.
The senior partner didn’t wait for his response. “Unless I’m mistaken, that would be Valentina’s number.” He tapped into the message and then shook his head, wordlessly handing the phone to Cross.
Cross stared at the text: quando inviti il diavolo a cena, assicurati che la tua casa sia pulita..
Henderson gave a grunt of impatience. “You speak Italian, what does it mean?”
Cross swallowed hard. “It says , when you invite the devil to dinner, make sure your house is clean .” He raised his face to meet Henderson’s gaze.
“That would seem fairly damning,” the man said, his light tone completely at odds with the fury on his face.
Cross opened his mouth but no words came out. Forget keeping her club. If she’d been part of the plan to steal the diamonds, Valentina would be lucky to escape with her life.
“Can you think of any other interpretation?”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. It was time to cut ties and pick sides. Fortunately the choice in front of him was a simple one. “From the timestamp, it looks like she sent this just after Giancarlo personally invited Verity to this soiree.” He rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. “I remember her checking her phone as he left,” he lied smoothly. “It struck me as odd at the time.”
He hadn’t seen any such thing, Valentina never touched her phone in public, in fact she considered it the height of rudeness. But however this mess turned out, Valentina was up to her viciously manicured eyebrows in it and Cross needed to create some distance between them. He was aware that the board saw him as little more than her ‘yes’ man and it was essential he re-write that narrative as swiftly as he could.
Henderson frowned, “That doesn’t sound like her.”
“I thought the same thing,” Cross said, nodding in agreement. “That’s why it stuck in my memory. Clearly she must have been worried that, with both of us present at this little shindig, we would be tempted to put our original plan into action.” He gave a light sigh and spread his hands. “But with his phone out of charge, that warning never arrived.”
Henderson nodded. “I guess we should be grateful for his carelessness. I doubt there would have been anything left for us to find if he’d received that message.” The man pulled at his cuffs once again and straightened. “It looks like we’ll be needing a word with both Giancarlo and Valentina.” He nodded towards Verity. “Take her back to the club and keep an eye on her. I imagine we will have more questions.”
Cross wrapped his fingers around Verity’s wrist like a manacle. “Yes, sir. I’m sure we will all have lots of questions.”
The stricken look on her face made him feel just a little bit better.