A Dangerous Liaison - Part Three Read online

  Did I kill her?

  I shook my head. I couldn’t have – could I?

  Then I stared at my bloodied hands. The problem was, no one else would believe me. If I tried to explain my story to the police they’d lock me up and throw away the key. If I wanted to survive, if I wanted to find out what the hell was really going on, and if I wanted to protect Petra, I had to go.

  I wiped the back of my hand on my jeans – looked up and down the street and ran.

  Petra

  Alec had been gone over half an hour. No way would it have taken him that long to get a coffee and croissants. There were half a dozen cafés on the square. Even with the morning coffee rush, he should have been back by now.

  I bit my lip. The FBI and half of Rome’s police were after Alec. And I’d let him go out for coffee and croissants. What an idiot.

  I got up from the bed, walked to the window, and looked over the square. The tables outside the coffee shops were already filling up, but I couldn’t see Alec.

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  What if he’d been picked up?

  Thud thud.

  I flinched as someone banged on the door.

  “Come out with your hands up and you won’t get hurt.”

  It was Cooper.

  “Come out, Reader,” he said, his voice cold. “You’ve nowhere to run. Give yourself up or we’ll come in firing.”

  I took a step toward the door, then stopped.

  I’d gone AWOL in the middle of the manhunt for Alec, and now I was in his room. How the hell was I going to explain that? Cooper already knew I thought Alec was one of the good guys. He might have tolerated my thinking that. But if he believed I’d helped Alec escape, he’d ship me back to the states. I’d be on my way to an FBI holding cell in New York before the day was out. And I couldn’t let that happen. I had to stay in Rome and find Alec.

  I took a deep breath in and blew it out slowly, then looked out the window at the red tiled rooftops, and at the curve of St. Peter’s dome in the distance, my mind blank.

  How was I going to get out of this?

  Thud thud thud.

  “Reader, you’ve got thirty seconds, then we’re coming in. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

  I clenched my hands and swallowed. I knew the only reason Cooper hadn’t broken down the door was because he thought Alec was armed. He knew the SAS were crack shots. And I guess he didn’t want to find out how good Alec’s aim was.

  But he wouldn’t wait forever.

  I pushed my hair back from my forehead, and sighed.

  I had no other options.

  “Stand down!” I shouted. “Stand down, Cooper, it’s me, Petra.”

  ***

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  I was standing opposite Cooper and Gabriel in Alec’s room. A bunch of Feds were milling around bagging up Alec’s stuff for evidence. Cooper’s hands were on his hips and a deep frown on his forehead. His expression was somewhere between fury and incredulity. Gabriel stood next to him studying the floor. He hadn’t made eye contact since coming into the room.

  “You’re telling me you followed Reader here, then broke in after he left,” said Cooper, his voice rising to a higher pitch than I would have thought possible for such a big man.

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

  Cooper was nobody’s fool. He’d interrogated hundreds of perps in the ten years since he joined the FBI. He could smell a lie at a hundred yards. My story about spotting Alec by chance outside his building was all I could think up on the spur of the moment. But that didn’t make it any more believable.

  I couldn’t lie to Cooper. My only option was to stick as close to the truth as possible. I would admit to helping Alec escape because I thought Cooper was wrong about him – and because I thought his plan to take Alec off the streets was a risk to American citizens. That was true. Cooper wouldn’t like it but he’d understand it. But I didn’t want him to know about the link between Alec and me. Or about the vision we shared. That I would keep secret. Partly because if I told Cooper he’d think I was crazy and send me back to the U.S. for sure. And partly because I just didn’t trust Cooper with this. I had a sense that he mustn’t know Alec and I had a special connection.

  I looked Cooper directly in the eye and told him how I’d followed Alec into Central Station. How I’d seen him save a woman from being pushed under the 4:50 to Paris, and how I’d helped him escape afterwards.

  Cooper’s face went a deep red and he opened his mouth. I spoke before he could.

  “Sir, you’re right. I did go against your orders. But I believed bringing Reader in would risk American lives. So I helped him escape.”

  Cooper ducked his head and raked his hand through his hair. He looked like an exasperated headmaster dealing with a talented but badly behaved pupil. I glanced at Gabriel, hoping he’d support me. He had to see Alec Reader was an ally, not an enemy – didn’t he? But Gabriel was still studying the floor.

  “And you have no reason to lie to us about this? About Reader?” said Cooper.

  “No.”

  What was he getting at?

  “You’ve told me everything?”

  My stomach clenched. Suddenly I was scared.

  “Yes. I just think you’re wrong about him. I don’t want you to make a mistake by going after the wrong guy, that’s all. The terrorists are still out there.”

  I realized I was gabbling and snapped my mouth closed. Cooper held my gaze for a long moment.

  “Show her, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel looked up from the floor for the first time in minutes and sighed. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this, Petra. I hoped you’d come clean.”

  He reached inside his jacket, pulled out a brown envelope and handed it to me.

  “I’m sorry, Petra.”

  I stared at the envelope in Gabriel’s outstretched hand – my stomach doing somersaults.

  “Take it,” said Cooper in a harsh voice.

  I grabbed the envelope and, trying unsuccessfully to stop my hand shaking, opened the flap and pulled out a 6 x 4 photo.

  It showed Alec and me, kissing. It was taken in a side street near the Pantheon. I gripped the photo tight. I felt sick. I was totally blown. Cooper would never believe a word I said now.

  “Look at the others.” Cooper’s voice was hard as steel

  I leafed through the other photos. There were twenty or so. Taken with a professional camera. Clear. No mistaking Alec and me. As I looked at the other shots my blood ran cold. There were several more of us kissing ever more passionately. But it was the last few that made my toes curl. They showed us on the bed in this room. We’d thrown back the covers and were making love.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” I said. “I was working. I slept with him to find out what he knew.”

  “Jesus,” said Gabriel, shaking his head. “Are you for real, Petra?”

  Cooper glared at me. Then he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. After a long moment he looked up.

  “I want the room cleared.”

  Gabriel did a double take, “Sir, I don’t think…”

  “Now!” shouted Cooper.

  All the agents in the room jerked at the sound of Cooper’s voice, and thirty seconds later he and I were alone, with the door closed behind us.

  Cooper took off his jacket, folding it neatly, and placed it on the bed, before sitting down next to it. He raked his hand through his thick black hair.

  Now that we were alone he seemed even more unsettled. He reached toward his jacket, then hesitated. Then abruptly he pulled it toward him and took a packet of Marlboros and a Zippo lighter out of the pocket.

  I cocked an eyebrow. I’d heard he quit years ago.

  He lit up – took a deep inhalation – and then looked at me.

  “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair next to the bed.

  I sat down unsure where this was going.

  He blew out smoke through his nose.
The smell was overpowering in the small room.

  “Did Reader tell you anything?”

  “Not much,” I said, wondering what he was getting at. “Except that he’d saved six people since he’d gotten to Rome.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Cooper took another drag.

  “Why did you help him, Petra, really?”

  How could I explain? What was there to explain? Even I didn’t understand it. I had no choice but to stick to my story. It was half true, anyway. The alternative was to admit I had slept with Reader because I thought he was the man I’d been dreaming of for more than ten years.

  “I told you I think Reader is one of the good guys.”

  Cooper blew out a breath. “And that’s why you had sex with him. Because he’s one of the good guys?”

  “No. I…”

  I was about to give him the line about using sex to get information from Reader. But I’d never do that – and Cooper knew it. Surprisingly, he didn’t pursue it.

  He took another sharp draw on his cigarette.

  “Did you talk about anything else?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  “Did Reader tell you anything about his past?”

  “No.”

  “But you jumped into bed with him anyway?”

  I looked away.

  “What is going on here, Petra?” he said. “What are you not telling me?”

  I didn’t answer. Nothing I could say would be credible apart from the truth.

  “Did he…” Cooper paused. He looked as if he was considering whether or not to ask me something important.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t send you straight back to the U.S. to face a disciplinary hearing.”

  I didn’t think that was the question he’d been about to ask. But at least I was on safer ground with this one.

  “Because you need me. Will,” I said, using his Christian name for the first time in weeks, “I know I messed up big-time. But I can be useful to you. Whether you believe me or not we both want the same thing – to protect American lives. We may disagree about Reader, but I agree now he needs to come in.”

  Cooper dropped the cigarette butt on the floor and stubbed it out with his boot.

  “Maybe you could be useful.”

  He leaned forward and ran his finger down my neck, then along the line of my collarbone. I shuddered.

  Cooper and I used to be an item and he’d never really gotten over it. Only a few weeks ago back in New York he’d tried it on with me when I asked to be assigned to this case. If Gabriel hadn’t come in God knows what would have happened.

  Then Uzbeke stormed in and Cooper snatched his hand back,

  “Boss, there’s been another killing. This time we’ve got the son of a bitch on CCTV.”

  Chapter 5

  Petra

  “Seen enough, Petra?”

  I nodded numbly, not taking my eyes off the screen. We were standing over the body of a dead woman. Not just any woman. The woman Alec had saved at the train station a few hours before.

  Now she was dead. Lying in a pool of her own blood. Killed by Alec. The whole thing had been captured on CCTV. I’d just watched Alec stab her to death. Cooper had the video streamed through to his iPhone, and played it back to me. Even after seeing Alec kill her, part of me couldn’t accept I’d been so wrong about him. That I’d been so desperate to find happiness I’d made myself believe Alec was a hero – my hero. But then hadn’t I seen him save the woman in the station? Why would he kill her a few hours later? I shook my head. I was so confused.

  But I couldn’t deny what I’d just seen. The freeze frame of Alec standing over this poor woman, with a bloody kitchen knife in his hand, would be etched on my mind for a very long time. He had killed her, which brought me back full circle. How could I have been so wrong about him?

  Cooper pulled the phone out of my clammy grip. I let him, and my hands fell to my sides. Around us, Feds and Italian forensic agents dressed in white coveralls were already cordoning off the murder scene.

  Cooper flicked a hard look at me.

  “Did you know about this?”

  My jaw dropped.

  “No… of course not.”

  I didn’t know whether to be angry or terrified that he thought I might be involved.

  I met his gaze. “I swear, Cooper, I didn’t know.”

  He grabbed my wrist, leaned close and spoke into my ear.

  “For your sake, Agent Anderson. I hope that’s true.”

  Alec

  I hustled along a quite suburban road in northern Rome. I’d got myself cleaned up as well as I could in a public washroom near where the woman had been stabbed. The blood had soaked into my jeans and shirt, but I got rid of the worst of it. Then I’d walked for the last two hours straight without knowing where I was going.

  I was trying to decide what the hell I was going to do next. But in the end I realized I had just two options. I could run, or I could stay. Staying would give me a chance to get to the bottom of this mess and clear my name. But it would be dangerous. I knew how to run. I knew how to hide. Four years in the SAS had taught me that. I could go to ground so deep they’d never find me.

  I sighed.

  If I were alone maybe I would have run. But I wasn’t – not anymore. I had Petra. And if I left, what would happen to her?

  I noticed an old guy sitting on a bench on the other side of the road staring at me. He was half-shaded from the intense sun by a big olive tree. He had on an

  old brown Polo shirt, a pair of chino shorts and loafers. His eyes wandered down my shirt to my stained jeans – then up to my face.

  When his eyes met mine he flinched and looked away.

  I ducked my head and hustled down the road. I’d run out of time. If the old guy called the cops they’d be here in minutes. I had to get off the streets – and preferably out of Rome. My face was probably already all over the news channels. Even if I got myself cleaned up so I didn’t look like an axe murderer my face would give me away. Getting out of Rome was the only option for me now.

  I turned a corner onto a narrow side street. Half a dozen battered Fiats and a couple of Alfa Romeos lined the road. The Alfas were newer models with sophisticated electronic locks. The Fiats, on the other hand, were a lot more basic. I stopped by one of the Fiats. Its driver-side window was open a couple of inches. I slipped my fingers through the gap and pulled down hard. The window stuck halfway, then slid down. I checked that the street was still empty and slipped through the window into the driver’s seat.

  So far, so good.

  Then I pulled the keys to my room from my jeans pocket, twisted the key ring out straight and pushed it into the ignition. The engine started on my third attempt.

  I was going to stay and clear my name and I wasn’t going to abandon Petra. She was the best thing that had happened to me for a very long time. But first I needed to get help, and there was only one person I could go to. John Statton, my commanding officer from the SAS. He’d always been good to me. I’d heard he’d retired a year after I left the service and had moved to Italy near Rome.

  When I left the service he gave me his number. I could still remember his last words:

  “If you find the real world is getting on top of you, Alec, give me a call. Any time, night or day.”

  I thought back to the events of the last twenty-four hours and smiled. I figured this qualified.

  ***

  I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel, trying to ease the cramp out of my hands, then checked the satnav on the Fiat’s dashboard. The GPS co-ordinates Statton had given me were in Avezano National Park, about 120 miles northeast of Rome – another 70 miles to go.

  Statton hadn’t seemed surprised when I called him. But then, I remembered not much had ever surprised him. He had that British stiff upper lip in spades. One time we were on a mission to extract an MI5 asset being held by the Republican Guard. Statton and I had snuck into the abandoned bunker where the Ira
qis were holding the asset, only to find six heavily armed soldiers pointing Kalashnikovs at us. I’d thought it was all over. But Statton took them out. To this day I don’t know how. After the asset was safely in the back of our jeep, cancel.

  Some of the other guys in my squad thought Statton was a cold fish. But I knew different. He told me once, after one malt whiskey too many, that the SAS, and our squad in particular, were like family to him.

  I took an easy right turn, the first one in miles, and straightened up again. I was in the National Park now. Giant pine trees lined the road, and behind them the late afternoon sky was deep blue.

  My mind wandered back to the phone call I’d gotten in the Pantheon Square. That was the last thing I remembered before coming around with that dying woman at my feet. Something must have happened during the call. But I could hardly remember it now. It was as if my mind had been wiped. I’d answered my call, and the next thing I knew I was standing over the woman, holding a knife covered in blood.

  I blew out a hard breath.

  Had I killed her?

  Shit – I didn’t know. I didn’t remember killing her, that was for sure. But then I didn’t remember not killing her either. I had no idea how I’d gotten from the Pantheon Square to the street where her body was. I did know she’d been stabbed to death, and that I’d been holding the murder weapon.

  I shook my head.

  It was pretty damning.

  I was capable of killing. But only when I had a good reason. Only when there was no other option. But killing that woman made no sense. I’d spent the last few months saving Americans. Just hours before, I’d stopped some thug pushing her under a train. So why the hell would I kill her?

  Chapter 6

  Petra

  After thirty minutes Cooper, Gabriel and I headed back to the office. I, for one, had seen enough. We had the CCTV. We had the murder weapon with Alec’s prints all over it. The forensic guys would pour over the murder scene for the next 72 hours or so before the area was opened to the public. But what could they tell us we didn’t already know?