Jake and Lauren headed across the reception area towards the door.
‘What do you think?’ asked Lauren.
‘Pierce Randall,’ said Jake grimly. ‘That solicitor overheard Guy arranging to meet us, and was determined to stop that happening. They know what we think of them. They wouldn’t want us interfering in their plans for The Index. If you ask me, once they’d got him in that car they had waiting, they whisked him away somewhere we can’t get to him.’
‘That’s possible.’
Just then, Jake’s phone rang. He checked it.
‘A text,’ he said.
He opened the text. There was one short message of three letters: ‘hlp’.
Jake frowned and showed it to Lauren.
‘What do you make of that?’ he asked.
‘Help,’ said Lauren.
‘Who’s asking for help?’ asked Jake.
He checked the number. It was withheld.
‘Guy,’ he said grimly.
‘How do you know?’ asked Lauren.
‘I don’t,’ said Jake. ‘I’m guessing. But I bet I’m right.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
‘We go to the police,’ said Jake.
Chapter 7
Jake and Lauren waited for twenty minutes in the police station reception before DI Bullen appeared. He didn’t look pleased to see them.
‘You needn’t have waited to see me,’ he said. ‘You could have handed in your passport to the desk sergeant.’
‘It’s not just that we came to see you about,’ said Jake. ‘It’s Guy de Courcey.’
‘Oh?’
Bullen’s attitude changed immediately. He was suddenly alert. He thinks I’ve come to shop Guy, thought Jake. Tell him that it was Guy who did the killing, and I was just an innocent accomplice, or something like that.
‘He’s disappeared,’ said Jake.
Bullen looked at Jake, then at Lauren, frowning, puzzled.
‘What do you mean, disappeared?’ he asked. ‘How do you know?’
‘Because he asked us to meet him at his hotel at twelve o’clock. The Belvedere. We went there, but the receptionist told us he’d checked out.’
‘So?’ said Bullen. ‘Maybe he did.’
‘Do you know about it?’ asked Jake. ‘Because my guess is that, if he’s still a suspect, you’ll want to know where he’s staying. Or, has he done a runner?’
Bullen’s expression tightened.
‘Wait here,’ he said.
With that, he disappeared through the door that led to the offices and the cells.
They sat back down on the hard plastic chairs, and waited. It was a further twenty minutes before Bullen reappeared, and this time he was more relaxed.
‘Everything’s in order,’ he said. ‘We’ve spoken to Lord de Courcey’s solicitors, and they have assured us that they have given him one of their private apartments. They’ve provided us with the address.’
‘And have you checked it to make sure he’s there?’ asked Jake.
Bullen visibly bridled at Jake telling him how to do his job.
‘Why should we?’ he demanded.
‘Because I had this text,’ said Jake, and he showed it to Bullen.
Bullen looked at the word ‘hlp’.
‘So?’
‘I think Guy sent it,’ said Jake. ‘I think he’s asking for help.’
‘From you?’ Then Bullen’s tone changed and he asked, ‘If this is from him, why would he ask you for help? You said you didn’t know him.’
‘I didn’t, not before last night,’ said Jake.
Bullen stood studying Jake, suspicion obvious on his face. Finally, he gave a dismissive shrug and said, ‘Anyway, Lord de Courcey isn’t in any immediate trouble, apart from being a suspect in this case. As you are. We’ve just spoken to his solicitors, and they have assured us he is safe.’
‘They could be holding him against his will,’ said Jake.
‘Why would they do that?’ asked Bullen.
Because they’re criminals, thought Jake. Pierce Randall work with assassins and terrorists. They’d do anything to protect their investments. Kidnapping, torture and killing would be no problem for them.
Aloud, he said, ‘Because there’s a lot of money at stake here.’
Bullen fixed Jake with a hard glare.
‘Pierce Randall are a highly reputable and international firm of solicitors,’ he snapped. ‘I would think very carefully before making any accusations against them of wrongdoing.’ He then gestured towards the reception desk. ‘We still need your passport. If it’s not delivered to us within the next two hours . . .’
‘It’s here,’ said Jake, taking it from his pocket.