Thieves Like Us 01 - Thieves Like Us Page 15

  Then someone got out of the car, took his arm, steered him towards it. Jonah leaned back heavily in the back seat, his wet clothes snagging on the leather upholstery. His eyes felt hot as the driver took him away into the night along its twisted, narrow lanes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tye viewed the washed-out grey morning through the window and wished she’d said goodbye to Jonah in person. She’d spent so much of her childhood saying goodbye. Goodbye to guys who took what they wanted and left. To friends, clawing their way out of the slums on to better things, or as they were lowered into the ground. To chances for change, when she’d jacked in school again or walked out on Dad – or when she’d been bullied, bludgeoned or blackmailed into one more run, one last time.

  She didn’t know what to say at goodbyes any more.

  But she knew she was hurting somewhere – some soft, half-forgotten part she had little use for these days. As long ago as their exchange in the pool in Cairo, Tye had sensed she would be able to talk to Jonah in a way she couldn’t with the others.

  And that of course had been enough to scare her miles away.

  She didn’t want to open up. Didn’t want to let in mess, to share anything more than her skill with the people around her. Of course she didn’t.

  ‘Liar,’ Tye whispered miserably. She turned on her side, her back to the window.

  * * *

  The summons from Coldhardt came early, as she had expected. She sat beside Motti in the hub. Jonah’s seat was empty, of course. Patch was staring at it morosely, so Tye was glad when Con slumped there with a cup of strong-smelling coffee. Though her make-up had been applied with her usual skill, she still looked tired, like she hadn’t slept well. Tye supposed none of them had.

  It wasn’t like any of them even knew Jonah that well. But they’d told him he could be family, and he didn’t want to know – threw the opportunity back in their faces. Tye knew that tapped into stuff for all of them, no matter how cool they acted on the surface.

  Motti sniffed. ‘Coulda made me some, Con.’

  ‘Do I look like your slave, Motti?’

  ‘Truth is, you look all-out gross. Even Patch would say no this morning, right, Patch?’

  ‘Leave it, Mot.’

  ‘Jeez, are we all on tippy-toes today just ’cause the geek cleared out? Does it have to be like someone died –?’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Coldhardt, looking up languidly from the head of the table. He was dressed in his habitual black, but somehow his manner this morning seemed a little more funereal. ‘The cipher has been decrypted,’ he announced, with no mention of the boy who’d cracked it. ‘Unfortunately, it is inconclusive. We must locate and retrieve the rest of the lekythos. As Tye and Con have informed us, it was sent to the Serpens Biotech plant in Rome. And it is from there that we must recover it.’

  ‘Why should the fragments still be there?’ Con asked. ‘Surely it was just another drop point, no? It’s a genetics lab.’

  ‘Which makes it the perfect place for testing that mysterious organic powder inside the lekythos,’ Coldhardt said heavily.

  ‘But what about the lekythos itself?’ asked Motti. ‘Y’know, I’m surprised we didn’t find what’s left of it in Samraj’s mansion. I mean, it’s just clay, man – got no call to be in a lab.’ He looked at Coldhardt, smiling slyly. ‘Hey, speaking of Samraj’s place, how come you knew where that secret safe of hers was, anyway –?’

  Coldhardt slammed down both fists on the antique wood of the table. ‘You question me?’

  The table jumped under the force of the blow. Patch quailed, covering his head. Con and Tye both stared at Coldhardt in shock.

  ‘Was just impressed, man,’ Motti said hoarsely.

  ‘If you’re not prepared to trust me you can walk out now,’ he snapped, glaring round at them. ‘Leave here for good. That goes for any of you.’

  An oppressive silence shrouded the room. Tye knew that Coldhardt meant what he said. But she could also see a glimmer of fear in those proud eyes. When he saw her watching, he looked away, reaching for a slim briefcase.

  ‘You will go to the Serpens building in Rome. I have here the plans and details of the security systems. A reliable source informs me that Samraj has hidden things of value in laboratories on the second floor – where no one would ever think to look.’

  What reliable source? thought Tye, though she didn’t dare say a word.

  ‘It’s likely that she’ll be keeping the lekythos and the organic material there too,’ Coldhardt went on. He pulled out a sheaf of files and CDs and pushed them across the table to Motti. ‘I want your first thoughts on how we gain entrance to those laboratories by 1600 hours.’

  Motti accepted the files without comment, nodding.

  ‘Leave me now,’ Coldhardt went on, rising and walking slowly to his desk. ‘I must contact Demnos and update him on the situation. Tye, stay with me, please. I want you to witness the call.’

  Tye nodded.

  ‘He didn’t mention Jonah once.’ Patch looked pale and miserable as he followed Motti and Con to the door. ‘It’s like he don’t feel nothing.’

  I think he feels plenty, thought Tye, who’d noticed Coldhardt’s statuette. It was lying half-pulverised on the floor behind his desk, but from here she couldn’t tell whether demon or man had survived.

  Tye moved to where Con had been sitting for a better view of the screens. Coldhardt had dialled the videolink from his computer, and a high-res image of Demnos soon rippled into view, enlarged over all four monitors so every nuance was clear for her to read. And one thing was obvious – Demnos looked terrible. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his dark hair wild like a clown’s.

  ‘Forgive me, my dear Demnos,’ said Coldhardt. ‘Is this a bad time?’

  The big man scowled. ‘What is it you want?’

  ‘I have obtained Samraj’s fragments of the prescription, by covert means.’ He smiled, paused for a few minutes. ‘Would you tell me, please, does the phrase “the root of the snake” mean anything to you?’

  A hopeful look spun through Demnos’s crumpled face. ‘That phrase is mentioned in one of my own fragments. The root, the essence of the snake – this is what I hunt for. But … was there nothing else?’

  ‘I have studied Samraj’s documents carefully. Mention is made of Ophiuchus’s followers. Each of them possessed a particular type of funeral vase, with great treasure hidden within.’ Coldhardt smiled to himself. ‘That knowledge forearmed her. When the lekythos came to light in the Sakkaran tomb, she worked with members of the Cult of Ophiuchus to obtain it ahead of us.’

  At this, Demnos stiffened. ‘So. Some followers survived, after all.’

  ‘You’ve had dealings with the cult?’

  ‘I obtained my fragments of the Amrita prescription from a leprous peasant, drowning in the filth of an Indian shanty town. He claimed to be the last of the line. He died soon after the pieces came into my possession.’

  ‘Retribution for sharing anything of Ophiuchus’s secret has traditionally been swift and deadly,’ said Coldhardt. ‘Be assured, Demnos, his cult endures – and Samraj is linked to it intimately.’

  Demnos nodded gravely. ‘So the advantage is hers.’

  ‘Not entirely. A cipher was etched in the lekythos, and we possess a vital part of it. It translates as “Head of serpent, dog of the shepherd, hand before the preceding”…’ Coldhardt gave him his most urbane smile. ‘Does this mean anything to you?’

  ‘The head?’ Demnos’s face clouded. ‘For twenty years, cell by cell I have torn apart the brains of almost two thousand species of snakes in search of the secret … Nothing.’ His anger began to show. ‘And now you talk of a shepherd’s dog, a hand preceding? Preceding what?’

  ‘We are in the process of extracting more information from the cipher. We hope to have more to tell you soon.’

  Demnos’s frown softened. He looked away from his webcam, staring into space. ‘What does it matter now, in any case?’

/>   Tye glanced nervously at Coldhardt, but his attention was fixed on the screens. ‘What has happened, Demnos?’

  ‘Two nights ago my precious Yianna was abducted from my home. I was away on business, and when I returned yesterday morning …’

  ‘Who would abduct her?’ said Tye. She felt Coldhardt’s eyes on her, angry that she should speak out of turn. But she could see that Demnos was in great pain.

  ‘I don’t know. There were signs of forced entry. The alarms were tripped – but the police received a call from Yianna insisting it was a false alarm. So did my own security people.’

  ‘The abductors forced her to make those calls,’ Tye reasoned.

  ‘Of course they did,’ Demnos snapped. ‘It is ironic, is it not? While I am paying you to steal from Samraj’s house … unknown agencies invade my own mansion and take what is most precious to me.’ His dark eyes were shining with tears. ‘She is the reason I must have the Amrita. She is sick, born with a wasting illness. I watch her grow worse month by month, unable to save her …’

  Tye risked a look at Coldhardt. He was watching the screens impassively.

  ‘She is all I have to remind me of my wife,’ he whispered hoarsely, wiping the tears from his face with his slab-like hands. ‘I must find her.’

  ‘You’ve received no demands from her captors?’

  ‘Nothing. When I think of the pain she must be enduring, and the fear …’ He shook his head savagely. ‘I have promised her an end to her pain, and a new life. A life of health and happiness that will last for ever. The truth of the Amrita lies hidden in the serpents somewhere, I know it.’

  ‘It looks like Samraj is experimenting on them too,’ Tye told him. ‘She must think the same as you.’

  ‘For Samraj the Amrita is simply a means of gaining power,’ Demnos sneered. ‘For me, it is a matter of life and death.’

  ‘Perhaps someone feels you’re getting close to the secret,’ Coldhardt mused. ‘And that with power over your daughter you will give Amrita to them.’

  Tye frowned. ‘Samraj? I thought we just agreed she’s the one with the advantage here.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps so. Or perhaps a third party is at work,’ he went on. There was a look in his eye she couldn’t fathom. ‘Yes, someone playing each of you against the other.’

  Demnos looked straight at the screen again, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ‘Coldhardt, you are a thief. Steal back my daughter.’

  ‘I don’t deal in human goods.’

  ‘You must help me.’ Tye took no pleasure from seeing this powerful man tremble. She doubted he had asked for help from anyone in his life. ‘Find Yianna. Bring her back to me unharmed and I will reward you with wealth and treasures you can only dream of.’

  Coldhardt’s voice dropped to an icy breath. ‘Be careful, Demnos. I have the most vivid dreams.’

  ‘Please,’ he whispered.

  ‘Very well. I’ll consider it. Put together a business plan as before, and submit it to me for consideration.’

  ‘I will speak with you again,’ Demnos vowed solemnly. Then he broke contact and his image vanished from the screens.

  ‘He was telling the truth,’ Tye said shakily. ‘About everything.’

  ‘I feel for him,’ said Coldhardt, gazing into space. ‘To lose a child is always painful.’ He said the words simply but with a conviction that chilled. ‘Even so, learning the truth about Amrita is our first concern, over and above everything else. Do you understand?’

  Tye nodded. ‘But if Yianna’s going missing is linked to this stuff about the Amrita –?’

  ‘The truth will out. Wherever she is, I doubt she will remain hidden for long. She has been taken for a purpose.’ He mused pensively on this for a while, then nodded. ‘You may leave me now. Make sure Motti is fully engaged in finding a way into the Serpens premises.’

  ‘I’m sure he will be.’

  ‘We need to move fast on this.’ Coldhardt looked back at the blank screens like he could see something there that Tye could not. ‘By tonight.’

  She wanted to protest, to insist that it wasn’t enough time. But she didn’t dare. Turning to go, she caught sight again of the smashed statuette.

  Without looking at it any closer she hurried from the hub.

  Tye drove them through the northern outskirts of central Rome to a business development park on the Via Fortuna. It was ugly and functional, the total flipside of the romantic, picturesque city with its thousand sights. At this time of night the area was more or less deserted save for a few unlucky souls arriving for the night shift.

  It felt weird to Tye, just the four of them together again, sitting in the van while they waited for the hour to act. Or rather, the four of them and a mangy, grouchy black cat they’d found prowling around a building site. To Tye’s surprise, it sat purring noisily on Motti’s lap, perhaps recognising a kindred soul.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Patch. He was toying distractedly with his ceramic eye, unscrewing the two halves and then putting them back together, over and over. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this job.’

  ‘You’re gonna have a bad feeling in your mouth when I smack you there,’ growled Motti. Now Jonah had gone, Patch was first in line for his abuse. ‘And would you quit playing with the eye?’

  ‘I’ll stop when you stop playing with the cat,’ he retorted. ‘Just ’cause it’s the only pussy you can get.’

  Con slapped him round the head. ‘Don’t be vulgar.’

  ‘Yeah, don’t be so vulgar, you little shit,’ Motti agreed. ‘And don’t forget this cat is gonna save your ass tonight.’

  Tye patted a bundle in a black bin bag. ‘So long as the sight of the toy terrier doesn’t scare him away.’

  Patch shook his head, looking worried. ‘I can’t believe our plan depends on a clapped-out cat and a stuffed dog.’

  ‘First rule – you gotta do different,’ Motti argued. ‘Gotta do something they won’t expect.’

  ‘We’re rushing into this. We need more time to plan.’

  Tye sighed softly. ‘I think so too.’

  ‘Coldhardt must have his reasons for wanting to move quickly,’ said Con defensively.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Motti agreed. ‘The plan’s OK. It won’t be so tough.’

  Patch blew cat hairs from his eyeball and popped it back under the leather. ‘Wonder where Jonah is right now?’

  ‘Who the hell cares? He’s out of our lives. I don’t give a damn if he’s living or dead.’ Motti looked quickly at Tye. ‘And don’t you start working your voodoo and telling me I’m a liar.’

  ‘We don’t need her voodoo to know that,’ said Con dryly.

  They sat in gloomy silence a while longer, listening to the rasping purr of the cat.

  ‘Hamburgers when we’ve finished?’ Patch suggested tentatively.

  Tye smiled. ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘Fillet o’ fish sounds better,’ said Con.

  ‘But it smells worse.’ Motti tapped his watch. ‘OK. Five minutes, people.’

  ‘Say, “Synchronise watches”, Motti.’ Con batted her eyelids. ‘You know I love it when you say “Synchronise watches”.’

  Motti glowered at Con, put on a bad falsetto French accent: ‘Would everyone kindly confirm their watch is telling the same time as their neighbour’s watch, yes?’ He picked up the cat and reverted to his usual gruff tones. ‘Then, if you’re ready, Puddy-tat … we’re going in.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Con stubbed out the cigarette she’d hastily puffed at in the van, swigged from a beer bottle and gargled messily. She dabbed some of the dribble on her neck, then mussed up her hair and tugged her black leather skirt – or the wide belt as Motti had called it – to a wanton angle. Instant post-club chic achieved, she walked calmly towards the main gate. Lights still burned on the upper floor of the squat, boxy business unit. ‘Here we come,’ she whispered. ‘Ready or not.’

  She heard Motti’s voice in her head. Four security guards on the night shift, at least two i
n central monitoring. Good news is, they’re outside contractors, not Serpens staff – if they screw up, they know they’ll just get sent to work in some other place, so they don’t need to play superhero if they find trouble.

  ‘Should be ripe for a distraction.’ Con checked her watch, speeded up the walk just a fraction. It was three minutes past two in the morning.

  Tye pulled on the leash of her dog on wheels, walking it like it was real round the perimeter of the Serpens unit. She took a moment out from counting her paces to check her watch: 2.04am.

  ‘The fence ain’t alarmed but it’s tough,’ Motti had said. ‘We need to get through at the farthest point between the electronic field sensors in the grounds. Twenty-two steps from this point on the plan. That’s where you gotta make the cut, but be careful. They got a camera trained there.’

  She counted twenty-two and stopped with the dog, shaking her head impatiently …

  On the dot of 2.04, Con reached the security monitoring station, all drunken smiles. It was a small room adjoining the main building, made from steel and glass. A bank of monochrome monitors dominated the wall behind a counter with a phone and a sign-in book. On one of the screens, Tye had just walked into view.

  A blue-uniformed guard opened the door for her, obviously having seen her approach. He was a burly man in his forties with a thick, well-groomed beard. His younger buddy was bright-eyed and balding and stood behind the counter. Both carried guns in macho black leather holsters round their waists. Con guessed the other guards on patrol would be carrying too.

  ‘May I help you, miss?’ asked the bearded guard.

  Con peered at his name badge. ‘Hello, Marc. I need to see Lorenzo Issigri,’ she began in perfect Italian, relieved to find both men’s eyes on her legs and not the monitors, where Tye was now crouching between the fence and her slightly suspect dog. ‘Can you call him for me?’

  ‘Issigri?’ Marc frowned. ‘Doesn’t normally work nights, does he?’

  Con shook her head emphatically. ‘Only those nights I go out and leave my bag in some idiot’s taxi. My friend’s meant to be crashing with me tonight, but I’ve got no keys, no phone …’