Numbly, Jake nodded. Gareth’s expression softened slightly, and he added, in a quieter voice: ‘I will give you one concession. I know why you did what you tried to do, and a part of me is romantic enough to admire someone who tries to do something for the woman he loves.’
What Gareth had just said, and the quiet almost wistful way he said it, staggered Jake.
‘We will allow you to make one Skype call to Ms Graham and tell her what has happened; and the fact that you lost the book; and that you have been sacked. We will allow you to make this call without censorship at either end, although it will be monitored. You will also be able to tell her the good news that her cousin has recovered consciousness and will make a full recovery.’
Jake looked at Gareth with relief flooding through him.
‘Robert’s all right?’ he asked, still unsure.
‘As all right as anyone can be who’s got a fractured skull and was beaten as badly as he was,’ said Gareth. ‘But, yes. I heard this morning from the hospital with the good news. As for the man you shot . . .’
‘I didn’t!’ protested Jake. Then his eyes dropped and he said, ‘It was self-defence.’
‘As I understand it, they were trapped inside a car by air bags at the time,’ countered Gareth.
‘They were going to kill me!’ said Jake. ‘If I hadn’t stopped them coming for me . . .’
‘They won’t be coming after you again,’ said Gareth.
Jake studied him, curious.
‘You’ve had them taken out?’ he asked.
‘What has happened to them is of no importance to you,’ said Gareth.
‘It is if they come looking for revenge,’ said Jake.
Gareth looked at Jake with the blankest expression Jake had thought he’d ever seen.
‘They will not be coming after you,’ said Gareth simply. ‘Or anyone else.’
So, they are dead, thought Jake.
‘And now,’ said Gareth, getting to his feet, ‘I thought you might like to use my office to make your call to Ms Graham. Much more private than your own.’
Jake looked at the clock.
‘It’s ten o’clock at night in New Zealand,’ he said.
‘And I believe Ms Graham is at home waiting for your call,’ said Gareth. He pointed to his computer on his desk. ‘I understand everything is set up and waiting.’
With that, Gareth left the office and closed the door.
Chapter 32
Jake sat at Gareth’s desk and looked at Lauren on the screen. Lauren looked back at him, shocked.
‘My God, Jake!’ she said. ‘What’s been happening to you?’
‘I met some people who didn’t agree with me,’ said Jake, trying to appear flippant and make light of it, though inside he felt sick and hollow. So much danger, so many risks, Robert nearly dying, and all for nothing.
‘Mr Findlay-Weston says we can talk without getting cut off,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Jake. ‘He sees this as a parting gift.’
Lauren frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s sacking me, with immediate effect. He’s also warned me off looking for the books.’ Then he smiled at her, just to let her know that he wasn’t being put off. ‘But, that’s just a warning. He can’t stop me, and he knows it.’
‘He can hurt you,’ said Lauren.
‘He’s already hurt me by keeping you there and me here,’ said Jake. His tone grew sadder as he said, ‘Robert got hurt. Badly hurt. He’s in hospital with a fractured skull.’
Lauren gasped, shocked.
‘So that’s why he hasn’t been in touch,’ she said. ‘I tried emailing him, and phoning him . . .’
‘I know, and I should have told you before,’ apologised Jake, ‘but I was under a lot of pressure.’
‘From the people who did that to you?’
‘Among others,’ said Jake.
As briefly as he could, and aware that their conversation was being monitored, and concerned it could still be cut off, despite Gareth’s promises, Jake told Lauren what had happened since they had gone to Glastonbury.
‘But you found a book!’ said Lauren excitedly.
‘Yes,’ said Jake. ‘Number 557. They exist, Lauren.’ He sighed. ‘If only I’d kept hold of it.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Lauren. ‘What matters is you’re alive. We can find another.’ Then her excitement faded and she asked: ‘Robert . . . ?’
‘I’m going to see him as soon as I leave here,’ Jake assured her. ‘They say he’ll recover, but I want to see for myself. Talk to him, let him know what happened.’