The Invisible Code(12)

‘Take a seat, both of you. I’m sorry about the light. Sometimes when I’m stressed my eyes become hypersensitive.’

Bryant shot his partner a meaningful look. Something’s wrong here. Kasavian never revealed anything that could be interpreted as a human flaw; it wasn’t in his DNA to do so.

Kasavian sighed and absently ran a palm against the side of his oiled black hair. As yet he had looked neither of them in the face. He stalked around his chair, picked up an onyx-handled letter opener and set it back down, then suddenly seemed at a loss. Searching about in vague confusion, he eventually planted himself on the edge of the desk and carefully studied each of them in turn.

‘This isn’t about your memoir,’ he said finally. ‘Our legals gave it a cursory glance when it was still proofing.’

‘That’s odd,’ said Bryant. ‘The galleys were locked away.’

Kasavian waved the implication aside. ‘We let you off because it appears your early cases weren’t covered by actionable security regulations, and the department has resolved not to take a stance on your more provocative jibes. We like to think we can take a joke, and besides, your personal opinions don’t matter to us. This – well, it’s about something else entirely. And it occurred to me that you might be able … that is, you might be the only ones … who could help me out.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked May.

‘Perhaps I’m not making myself clear,’ said Kasavian, rising and starting to pace about. ‘I want to hire your services.’





6



PERSECUTED



BRYANT WAS TAKEN aback by the tone of Kasavian’s voice. The civil servant he knew had a steely grimness that turned the lightest remark into the pronouncement of a death sentence, Judge Jeffreys with a gastric complaint. Now he sounded unsure of himself and almost human.

‘I know there has been a certain level of … dissension between us in the past, but I want to put that behind us.’

‘Fine,’ said Bryant, ‘but could you sit down? You’re making me nervous.’

Kasavian went behind his desk and sat. Bryant was amazed. It was the first time the security chief had ever heeded one of his requests. Steepling his long, crab-leg fingers, Kasavian thought for a moment. ‘I don’t want this to go beyond my office, do you understand?’

‘Of course,’ May readily agreed, inching forward on his chair. Bryant shot him a jaundiced look.

‘I have a problem. It has nothing to do with the antagonism between your unit and my department. This is a purely personal matter.’

Bryant was clearly fighting to suppress a grimace. He liked his enemies cold and bitter, like his beer. Anything less weakened them in his eyes.

‘I don’t know if either of you has ever met my wife?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Bryant. ‘I never pictured you being married to a—’ He was thinking of human being, but hastily ended the sentence.

‘She’s – very beautiful. Very young. Perhaps too young.’ He lifted a framed photograph from his desk and showed it to them. ‘In this job one expects to be vetted for many different degrees of security clearance, but one thing they don’t do is decide whom you fall in love with. Perhaps they should do. How can I describe Sabira? She’s wilful and easily bored. Rather like a Christmas tree: beautifully adorned but likely to burn the house down if left unattended.’

For Bryant, this was intolerable. The last thing he wanted was to know about the private life of his arch-nemesis, but the framed photograph was extraordinary. It showed an extremely attractive woman with a heart-shaped face, an absurdly flat stomach and cantilevered breasts, lying in a cheesecake pose on a sun lounger in a candy-striped bikini. It looked less like she was absorbing the rays of the sun than radiating them. She did indeed appear to be very young. If Kasavian had to be married at all, surely his wife should have had a face that could send a dog under a table?

Meanwhile, May was taking another look at the security supervisor and trying to imagine how on earth women could find him attractive. There was, he supposed, power and gravity in his bearing, authority in his saturnine features. A wife would be able take shelter if not comfort, and some were more concerned with finding a safe harbour than igniting passion.

‘She is the light of my life. Everything changed after I met her. But now there’s something wrong between us. It’s hard to explain. In the last six weeks her personality has undergone an extraordinary transformation. She is angry all the time – very angry. Not just with me but with everyone around her.’

‘We’re detectives, not marriage-guidance counsellors,’ said Bryant. ‘Have you tried taking her to the pictures occasionally?’ May fired off a warning look.