Chapter Fifty-Seven
Fox
I opened the door to a tall, debonair man in his sixties.
Something about him seemed familiar.
“Alain Drake.” He held out a hand, which I shook as my mind started shouting. “Can I come in?”
“Of course! Mr. Drake. Haze mentioned she’d met you.” I was speaking loudly. Why was I speaking so loudly? Haze would see who it was soon enough. And we didn’t have anything to hide here. Did we?
“I heard your neighbor was found dead.” Drake did not believe in small talk. “I wanted to check that he wasn’t collateral damage in an attempt on either of you.” Drake walked through the hallway toward the kitchen.
“I don’t think anyone could’ve mistaken him for either one of us.”
He turned. “Obviously.” His look was withering. “It just seems strangely close. To have another man turn up dead.”
“It’s been ruled a tragic accident. Something about water and electrics.”
He entered the kitchen just ahead of me.
“Hello, Hazel.”
Haze was standing by the cooker with Reggie in her arms. She was stirring what I knew to be a saucepan of water. But it looked wonderfully domestic.
“You’re asking about poor Barry?” Haze looked down. “Such a tragedy. He was such a lovely man. Natural causes, and/or a household accident, apparently. That’s what the neighborhood WhatsApps are saying.”
Drake looked around the kitchen. “It’s looking much better in here.”
“Thank you!” Haze smiled. “Just getting on top of things, finally.”
“Neither of you noticed anything unusual the night he died? No unknown people hanging around near your house?”
“Gosh, no!” said Haze. “Things have been very quiet.”
“As quiet as they can be with a baby and a toddler!” I smiled.
Drake looked between us. “There is a party at a place called Balgray Hall tomorrow.”
We both remained silent.
“I have confirmed intelligence that the man who arranged your abduction will be there, and that something bad will be happening, but my superiors are not realizing the importance of this. I have no men to send there to control the situation.”
How much to give away? “A business associate of mine did mention that party,” I said. “It’s meant to be quite a night out.”
Drake frowned. “I implore you both to not attend. We don’t know exactly what his plans are, but it will not be safe for you.”
“We like nights in,” said Haze. “The baby’s still not a great sleeper.”
Drake turned and looked at my black-tie suit hanging on the kitchen cupboard.
I cleared my throat. “We will let you know if we see anyone suspicious around here. But really, I’m sure Barry’s death was just an accident. That’s what the police are saying.”
Drake shook his head. “The police here are no good. They do not have our attention to detail.”
I chuckled. “I just don’t think someone has followed us to England to kill our next-door neighbor.”
“I don’t think you know much yet about what this man is capable of.” Drake held me in a stare. He turned to Haze. “You still have my number?”
Haze nodded.
“I will be in touch again soon.”
I showed him to the door. He strode out into the night and then stopped. “Be careful,” he said, then spun on his heel and walked down the street.
Did he mean, “Be careful of The Chameleon”? Or, “Be careful, I’m watching you”?
By the time I was back in our kitchen, Haze had topped up her wineglass. Reggie was in his bouncy chair on the table, watching her.
“What a fucking day.” She took another large gulp. “What do we do about Drake and the party? We just told him we wouldn’t go.”
“It’s a masked ball. He won’t see us. And really, he might be useful. He seems to want to find The Chameleon as much as we do.”
“My enemy’s enemy is my friend kind of vibe?”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
I was calm. It was going to be fine. Despite the awful nature of her news, it was a comfort to know that Jenny was not betraying us.
I’d cut out the psycho therapist and her dodgy drugs.
I had my wife by my side. We’d go to this party, find the person who’d been making our lives hell, and end him.
Then I could go back to working on all the other simple stuff in my life that had been getting me down, like my advancing age and my own mortality.