Ivory Nation, Andy Maslen [e manga reader .txt] 📗

then who was it, Saul?’ Uri asked. ‘Who killed Princess Alexandra?’

Saul turned to Avigael.

‘I want all efforts directed to finding the real shooter. All resources we can spare. And all we cannot.’

Eli pocketed her phone. Turned to Stella and Gabriel. She tried but failed to prevent the smile cracking her cheeks.

‘What did Uri tell you?’ Stella asked.

After Eli had filled them in on the details of the call with Uri, Gabriel scratched his head.

‘Are you going back to the UK then?’ he asked Stella.

She frowned.

‘Lieberman didn’t come here. But the real shooter did,’ she said. ‘And I have my meeting with Mafombe’s contact. I’m going to stay on for a few days, see if I can find out anything. Mafombe can help there as well. He seems to know everybody who’s somebody in G-City.’

‘You don’t think that would be pushing it?’ Eli asked.

‘I think it absolutely would be pushing it. That’s kind of my job,’ she added with a smile.

27

That night, after Gabriel and she had made love, Eli rolled onto her side and propped her head on her right palm. Gabriel looked up at her and twirled a lock of her auburn hair around his finger. Her eyes were shining in the moonlight flooding their room through the open curtains.

‘What?’ he said.

‘Do you think he’ll rescind the order about Israelis having to leave the UK?’

‘I don’t know. I hope so. I guess Stella will speak to her boss, then the Met will release the information and that’ll take the focus away from Israel. You’re all right though, now. Don got you a British passport.’

‘It’s not about that, though, is it, Gabe? Even if I, personally, can come and go as I please, it’s what lies behind it that worries me.’

Gabriel didn’t answer straight away. He ran through a couple of scenarios in his head first.

‘He might. With evidence pointing away from Lieberman, the police will be looking for a new suspect. Unless Tammerlane says it was him who was in Botswana, which would be odd, then he has to concede he got it wrong.’

Gabriel hesitated.

‘But?’ Eli asked, brows knitted.

‘But he’s not a normal politician. We know he’s anti-Israel. Has been since he was a student. I can’t see him giving it up so easily.’

‘What can he say? The forensic guy said that soil came from right here.’

‘He could say anything. The sample was cross-contaminated. It was left by someone else way before the hit. The analysis was flawed. It was planted by the Mossad. Anything.’

Eli pouted.

‘Great. Thanks for the encouragement.’

He drew her down and into an embrace. He spoke against the top of her head, releasing thoughts that had been circling in his brain like vultures over a dead elephant.

‘It’s going to be fine. Unlike Tammerlane, you and I have actually met Saul Ben Zacchai. No way would he have sanctioned the hit. Or Uri or Avigael either. It’s a false flag operation.’

‘Organised by who then? Tammerlane?’

‘He’s done pretty well out of it, wouldn’t you say?’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

Gabriel stroked her hair, feeling her heart beating against his own chest.

‘Terrified by the kidnappers into compliance, Lieberman arrives in London. He makes his way to Windsor.’ Gabriel paused, rearranging the pieces on the deadly board game he was playing in his mind.

‘He climbs the tower, overpowers and kills the police markswoman, and sets up his sniper nest. A second man climbs to the top of the tower, kills Lieberman and takes the shot himself. Tammerlane arrives and the shooter leaves. The police arrive to discover Tammerlane covered in a dead sniper’s blood. Open and shut case.’

‘Hang on,’ Eli said sleepily. ‘How did the cop die?’

‘The markswoman?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Probably wasn’t a shot. That would have alerted people. Probably someone would’ve called 999.’

‘A knife then. Or he used his bare hands.’

‘We need to ask Stella in the morning.’

Gabriel came out of the shower, rubbing furiously at his hair. Ensconced in an oversized armchair, Eli was flicking through the pages of an African fashion magazine. He caught a glimpse of beautiful black models clad in leather trousers and traditional printed fabric tops.

‘Ready for breakfast?’ Eli asked him, looking up.

‘I was up early. Already had mine.’

She frowned.

‘I didn’t hear you get up.’

He came to her and kissed her, then wrapped his arms around her waist.

‘That’s because I am a trained master of Yinshen fangshi,’ he whispered. ‘I could cut your throat from ear to ear in the night and you wouldn’t know until it was too late.’

She grinned and reached down between his legs. He winced as she took hold of his balls in her cupped hand.

‘Oh yeah? Don’t you think being manually castrated might make that a little difficult?’

She increased the pressure.

‘Fine, fine! Let me go.’

‘Let me go…’ Eli drew out the final word and lifted her chin in an unspoken question.

‘Please!’

‘Please, Eli Schochat, Queen of My Heart and Supreme Fighting Machine.’

Squeeze.

‘Yes, that, OK! Let me go.’

Squeeze.

‘Say it.’

‘Let me go please, Eli Schochat, Queen of My Heart and Supreme Fighting Machine.’

Laughing, Eli released him. He massaged the afflicted area.

‘We need to talk to Stella,’ she said. ‘About the dead markswoman.’

‘You go,’ he said. ‘There’s something I want to do.’

‘What?’

‘Call Mei.’

‘Will she be up? What time is it in Hong Kong?’

‘It’s midday there. She’ll have been up for hours. My sister’s an early riser, despite her job.’

‘What, you mean running a triad?’

‘She doesn’t run a triad.’

‘Er, hello? She took over the White Koi after she killed Fang Jian.’

‘She’s turning it into a legitimate business.’

‘And how’s that working out for her?’

‘That’s what I want to find out.’

Eli left after calling Stella and arranging to meet at the poolside breakfast terrace. With the room to himself, Gabriel called Mei. He listened to the clicks and hisses on the line as satellites, fibre optic cables and copper wires routed the call from G-City to Hong Kong. The ringing tone sounded like a cat’s purr in his ear. He imagined his sister sitting at a wide desk at the Golden Dragon casino, a laptop open