Part 29 (1/2)

'Other people have been trying to kill me.'

'There was some debate as to whether Mark was among their number.' He sat down heavily. 'There were traces of blood, apparently. On the carpet? But it turned out not to be yours.'

'That wasn't in the papers.'

'I didn't say it was. I made it my business to find out, Sarah.'

'Really.'

'n.o.blesse oblige? I did warn you, after all. I was worried you'd had it out with Mark, and he'd reacted badly.'

'You warned me?'

'You were rather drunk. Maybe you don't remember.'

She shook her head. 'I wasn't drunk.'

'I told you you'd be wis.h.i.+ng you were bored again. That trouble was coming. A bit cryptic, but what could I say? That your husband was a crook? You'd have broken my legs.'

'Batten down the hatches,' Sarah said.

'Do you know,' Gerard mused, 'he even tried rifling my palmtop? He wanted me to think that was you.'

'Imagine. So you thought he'd killed me.'

'I wasn't that worried. I'd have backed you against him. You might as well sit down, you know. Is he always like that?'

Michael was by the door, head c.o.c.ked for company. But his gaze never left Gerard.

'Yes.'

He didn't pursue it.

'What was he doing?' Sarah asked. Part of her didn't want to know. The other part had to.

'He was laundering money, Sarah. Not criminal money, sanctioned money. Emanating not a million miles from the Persian Gulf. He was channelling it through a series of offsh.o.r.e trusts he'd set up in Jersey, Liechtenstein and the Cayman Islands, and when it came out the other side, a tiny percentage stayed in an account with his number on it, and the rest, which was by now to all intents and purposes stateless money, was funding arms purchases. He's going to claim he was duped, but he left a paper trail a boy scout could follow. And I always investigate before I take on investment advisers. Mark should have known that.'

'So you turned him in.'

'To the police? No, I didn't. I don't approve of what he did, but the thought of taking it to the police, do you know, I just couldn't stomach that either? Too many Boys' Own stories as a kid. n.o.body likes a sneak.'

'You told his boss though.'

'A weasel called Mayberry. I tipped him the wink, yes. You might call that a duty. If somebody working for me went fast and loose through the regulations, it'd be nice if I got to hear about it.' His mouth twitched. 'Not that I'd need to be told. That man's in charge? He couldn't run a tap.'

So there it was. Mark wouldn't be making a fuss about her disappearance, because he'd have been told not to, in very direct terms.

Now Gerard's voice gentled somewhat. 'I wish it hadn't turned out like this. You must feel dreadful.'

Sympathy from Gerard was a new horror. She preferred him savage, chopping other people's beliefs. 'Not that dreadful. He was having an affair. Woman in the office. Did you know that? Or would that be sneaking?'

'Are you sure you won't sit down?'

She was tired suddenly. Tired of fencing, tired of company. Tired of Gerard already. 'I didn't come here for a rest.'

'What for, then?'

She didn't answer. She was registering a change in the area; some subtle difference she couldn't put a finger to. Then realized it was the sprinkler, changing direction.

'I'd be happy to help, but I don't know what you need. Do you have money?'

'She needs a gun.'

'He talks,' Gerard said, but didn't look at Michael. 'Is that right? You came here for a gun?' He seemed amused.

'I told you. People have tried to kill me.'

'Which people?'

She couldn't trust this man. Or didn't that matter now? 'You remember Rufus?'

'That rather strange friend of '

'It was his blood. On the floor.'

Gerard raised an eyebrow.

'You collect guns. You said so.'

'But I never lend them to '

'Don't try to be funny,' Michael said suddenly.

Gerard ignored him. 'Are you seriously telling me Rufus tried to kill you?'

'The guns,' Michael said, 'are in that case over there.'

They both looked at him now.

'Some of them,' he added.

Sarah looked at the case he meant. She'd thought it some kind of dresser; an upright wooden coffin, that when you opened its doors would surprise you with willow pattern plates. But saw now that its doors were padlocked, which was a little uptight even for this neighbourhood. Unless Gerard knew something about crockery futures.

'I can get in there if I have to,' Michael said.

'No you can't.' Gerard rose, and Michael stepped towards him. The heavier man froze.

'Michael,' she said.

He didn't step back, but relaxed somewhat. Gerard brushed past, and found a key in the drawer of his desk. 'Be my guest.' He tossed it to fall short, but Michael's hand snapped it from the air.