The Invisible Assassin(52)

‘You need to go,’ she said. ‘If you’re out of that apartment too long, they’ll get suspicious.’ She gave him a firm look. ‘It wouldn’t be wise for you to tell them you were with me. I suspect they know I’m a Watcher.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll lie,’ said Jake. He gave a rueful sigh. ‘It goes with being a press officer.’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Johnson, ‘but I don’t think you’re very good at it. Lying, I mean.’

She stood up, and Jake felt a burst of fear at getting back on her motorbike.

‘That’s OK,’ he said quickly. ‘There’s no need to take me back to the apartment. I can get a cab there.’

She grinned. ‘The ride scared you that much, huh?’

‘No,’ protested Jake indignantly.

Johnson laughed. ‘Like I said, you’re a useless liar.’





Chapter 23




Jake caught a cab back to the apartment block. It was midnight by the time he got in. He tried Lauren’s phone again, but as before, all he got was her voicemail message. He hung up. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. But his mind wouldn’t let him. Every time he closed his eyes, the images of the day came back to him: the two men threatening him in the street; the dead man on the floor of his flat; the image of Lauren running away on CCTV; the story on the TV news of Lauren accused of the murder of Carl Parsons; Alex Munro at Pierce Randall; Penny Johnson and her terrifying motorbike. And all in one day. It was enough for a lifetime.



The sound of the doorbell buzzing woke him. He looked at the bedside clock, and jerked up with a start. 8.45!

He pulled on his jeans and hurried barefoot to the door and unlocked it. Sue Clark stared at him, at the fact that he was still undressed. And I bet I stink of booze from that bikers’ bar, Jake thought to himself ruefully.

‘You were supposed to be ready,’ she snapped at him, her tone curt and very disapproving.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I overslept. It was a tough day yesterday . . .’

‘Tell me later,’ she ordered. ‘Take a shower and get dressed.’

As Jake hurried to the bathroom, he wondered if he should ask if there would be time to get some breakfast, but he could tell by Clark’s face that she wouldn’t be sympathetic.

In the car on the way to the police station, Clark asked him, ‘Where did you go last night? The concierge said you went out.’

‘Er . . . just out for a walk.’

‘Why? We put you in the apartment to keep you safe.’

‘Because I needed to clear my head.’ Johnson says I’m a useless liar, mused Jake. Let’s hope I can persuade Clark to believe me. ‘Like I say, it had been a really rough day. I sat inside the apartment and felt the walls closing in on me. I had to get out and think.’

Clark didn’t even look at him. She doesn’t believe me, he thought. She’s going to ask me who I met.

But instead, the lawyer simply said, ‘You won’t have that problem any more. You should be able to go back to your flat after we’ve finished at the police station.’

Jake frowned. ‘You sure it’s going to be that easy? They seemed pretty sure I’m the one who killed that man.’

‘Just leave it to me,’ said Clark. ‘I do the talking. You keep your mouth shut unless I tell you that you can speak. Got that?’

‘Got it,’ he said meekly.



At the police station, everything went exactly as Sue Clark had said it would. It was almost as if she and Detective Inspector Edgar had rehearsed their lines beforehand. By ten thirty, Jake and Clark were leaving the police station – after he’d signed a declaration that he wouldn’t be leaving the country without first checking with the police.

‘OK,’ said Clark. ‘That’s it, for the moment. You’re free, providing you don’t do anything stupid. Like break into another research establishment.’ Then she added, pointedly, ‘Or conceal evidence.’

‘What sort of evidence?’ asked Jake.

‘Lauren Graham,’ said Clark. ‘If she gets in touch with you.’

‘You’re telling me I should tell the police if I hear from her?’

‘No,’ said Clark, shaking her head. ‘You contact me. If I’m not available, you contact Mr Munro direct, or anyone else at Pierce Randall.’ She gave him a card. ‘These are the other numbers you’ll need. They’ll tell you what to do.’ She gestured at the car that had pulled up in the car park. Once again, Keith was at the wheel. ‘Are you going back to your flat? I can drop you off.’