The Invisible Assassin(12)

Jake nodded, but said hopefully, ‘Or we could always meet up . . .’

‘No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’ll email it you,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ll do it later today.’

‘OK,’ said Jake. He got up. They stood looking at one another, awkwardly, and then Jake leant forward and planted a chaste kiss on Lauren’s cheek.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.

‘So am I,’ she said.

Then she turned and walked away. Jake sat down again and watched her go. With you, you take my heart, he thought numbly.





Chapter 6




Jake spent the rest of the afternoon in a bit of a daze. He went to a gallery, but he couldn’t remember what he saw. He went to the South Bank, where there was a free concert happening, but if anyone had asked him afterwards who or even what had been playing, he wouldn’t have been able to say. All he could think of was the fact that Robert had been Lauren’s cousin, her childhood playpal, and he’d screwed it up. Lauren flicking her fingers through Robert’s hair and laughing, claiming she was looking for nits. Of course! That’s what kids did! It had been real family affection between them. That’s why Robert had called on him and threatened him. Not because he wanted Lauren for himself, but to protect Lauren. Jake had been such an idiot! No, not just an idiot! A Grade A Oscar-Winning Idiot.

By early evening, Jake was feeling so depressed he could almost describe it as suicidal. But what would be the point of that? It wouldn’t get Lauren back. He wondered if it was the effects of the gas making him feel like this. But then he remembered there hadn’t been any gas, despite what Gareth and the doctor had told him. He knew there hadn’t been any gas. And this business of the Order of Malichea seemed to make the whole thing even clearer. There was a cover-up going on. And someone had tried to push him under a train!

Oh God, don’t start on that direction! he groaned to himself. Not another conspiracy! ‘Aliens ate my brother!’ ‘All World Leaders are Lizards!’

But there was something going on. Malichea. Sigma. The construction worker. And someone had tried to push him under the train. Jake was sure it was not just coincidence that it had happened after Gareth had spotted him in the archive library.

Jake thought about what Lauren had told him about this Order of Malichea hiding their library in places that were rumoured to be holy, or haunted, or sacred, or cursed. Like a fairy ring. Was it really possible . . . ?

His mobile rang. He checked the number on the screen. It was Lauren! Hastily, he made the connection.

‘Hi,’ he said, smiling to himself. She was calling him!

‘It’s Lauren!’ said Lauren, and she sounded seriously angry, and the smile vanished from Jake’s face as he wondered what he could have said or done to upset her. But then she said, ‘I’ve been burgled!’

‘What?’ said Jake, his mind in a whirl. His first thought was one of relief that she wasn’t angry at him over what had happened, but her next words put an end to that feeling of relief.

‘Who have you been talking to about me?’ she demanded.

‘What?’ stumbled Jake. ‘No one? Why?’

‘Because they took my laptop! And my notepads with my notes!’

‘What notes?’

‘All of them. Including my notes on the Order of Malichea! Why would anyone do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ stammered Jake.

‘Because they knew what you were asking me!’ said Lauren accusingly. ‘You must have told someone!’

‘I swear, I haven’t told anyone!’ insisted Jake. ‘I only picked up the word Malichea this morning for the first time, at my department. The only person I mentioned it to was the librarian in the archives library . . .’

And immediately afterwards, Gareth turned up in the library, thought Jake. Gareth, who never ventures below the third floor. Gareth, who if he wants anything from the archives sends a minion to get it.

‘Jake . . . !’ came Lauren’s voice. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes,’ said Jake. ‘Lauren, I don’t think we should say anything more over the phone right now. There’s something going on.’

‘And you think my burglary’s proof of it?’

‘Yes. I think it could well be.’

There was a pause, and Jake could hear Lauren talking, but muffled, and someone more distant replying. She wasn’t alone.

‘Lauren . . .’ he began.

‘Wait a minute,’ she said.

There was more talking at the other end of the phone, too muffled for him to hear, then she said, ‘The South Bank. One of the benches near the Festival Hall by the bridge.’