The Pursuit of Emma, Dave Moyer [best contemporary novels txt] 📗
- Author: Dave Moyer
Book online «The Pursuit of Emma, Dave Moyer [best contemporary novels txt] 📗». Author Dave Moyer
‘I want my wife back, and you don’t want to die, right?’
I posed the question simply. I wanted to lay out all the facts as I saw them.
‘That seems fair, right Vitali?’ asked Igor sarcastically. So his name was Vitali. That was nice to know.
Vitali just shook his head, smiling ironically. He clapped his hands slowly, applauding me.
‘Well done Tom, you’ve done great. You tricked us that you were out the country, you got in here, you got yourself a gun. But it ends here. You are a pathetic weakling, who knows nothing of who we are, what we want or what we are going to do. This world is not meant to involve you. If you had just left it alone, you would have been fine.’
His arrogance shocked me and I was tempted to pull out the gun again but I resisted. He was testing me and I would rise to it.
‘You really do underestimate me. The truth is, you know nothing about me.’
Vitali laughed loudly and stood up. ‘Know nothing about you. You haven’t moved, breathed or thought without us watching you. We know everything...’
‘You know what I wanted you to know!’ I shouted. I was in control now. Vitali looked shocked and smirked quietly before sitting down again.
‘Do you honestly think I didn’t know you were there? Watching me. Following me. It was pathetic. You have no idea who I am. But let’s start with you, shall we?’
They were glaring now and I assumed they weren’t used to being talked to like this.
‘The Kozlov brothers. The big shots. Born in Saratov, Russia. Fingers in every pie going. Racketeering, money-laundering and organised murder. Never convicted but wanted by Interpol, the FBI and police forces all round the world. Very impressive.’
They were shaking. It was clear to them that they were wrong about me and making mistakes often gets you killed.
‘Now let’s see. What do you want? Probably lots of things, but specifically today? No one could know that, right? At a guess I’d have to say seven hundred year old, Yuan Dynasty ewers. In particular, five blue and white ones. Priceless Chinese artefacts; collect the whole set and make seventy million on the street. Sound about right?
The words were taken out of their mouths. I decided to press home my advantage whilst there was silence.
‘Now you could never get your hands on one and then, as luck has it, the girl who ripped you off all those years ago is also the only thief capable of stealing them. What a nice coincidence for you. Except you’ve got one problem. Emma never stole that first one in Milan. I did.’
‘Emma and I have been running jobs together for almost ten years. She gets cocky sometimes and that gets her caught. The reason you have never heard of me is because I’m that good. Now, Emma's not bad; she’s the best I’ve ever met and she did a good job in San Diego and Paris. Oh yes, I know about those. How do you think she completed those jobs? Because she learnt from me. I ripped you off all those years ago, I stole the ewer the first time and I am the only one who can help you get the last two.’
The silence was broken at last.
‘Well, Tom it seems we have underestimated you. You are full of surprises. But it doesn’t change anything. Your girl will get us those ewers and then we will consider letting her go. No negotiations.’
I laughed coolly.
‘You think it’s that easy. You guys know nothing. I try not to make it a habit of killing people, so please don’t make me start again,’ I breathed, hoping to keep an intimidation factor. I’m not sure if it was working or not. They were good, determined to keep their cards close to their chests.
‘You know nothing about the heat on these things. China has flipped over it. They are being moved. You have five days, maybe six to steal two. You need a two man team, it’s the only way. Have you not looked at the blueprints?’
This was not their area of expertise. They were thugs, with too much money and too many guns. They didn’t understand the planning and technique it took to run a job like this or so I was banking on.
‘So what do you suggest?’ asked Igor, visibly shaken up.
‘Well, the way I see it, you have two options. Number one: I shoot you both dead, find Emma and keep the ewers for ourselves. Or, number two: you take me to Emma, we steal the other two for you and you let her walk free. We both know you were never going to let her walk after this, but if we help you, you leave us alone forever. What do you think?’
‘Fine. How do we know you won’t screw us over?’ Vitali said angrily. They didn’t seem happy but they had no choice.
‘Gentleman’s agreement. I know how powerful you guys are. Unlike you, I don’t underestimate my opponents. If we disappeared you would never rest until we were dead. You found Emma once, you would again. If we don’t get your ewers you can come after us, but if we do, you take them and leave us. That is the agreement.’
‘Fine,’ Vitali said again and Igor nodded.
I stood up calmly. I had done it. So far, so good.
‘I need you to understand this Kozlovs,’ I said. ‘I have recorded most of this and sent incriminating evidence to a contact. If I don’t let him know I am safe regularly he will take it to the police and you will spend a long time inside. Try and double cross me and it'll be the last mistake you ever make. Do you understand? From now on we're on the same team, working towards the same goal. And that is how you want me. If anything happens to Emma or me, you'll wish you had never been born. Believe me on that.’
I think they did. It had been a terrifying experience for me but I had completely fucked with their heads. They thought they knew everything about me and I had spun their world upside down.
‘Fine. But everything goes through us. You think about running or messing us about and we kill you. And your family. Believe us on that,’ replied Igor.
‘I do believe you,’ I said, calmly. ‘So where is she?’
‘14 Parlour Street, West London. She’s not back yet. Be there at 10 tomorrow morning.’
She must still be travelling back from America. I wasn’t expecting that but I could cope with it.
‘See you tomorrow then,’ I replied, turning to go. I had to believe in trust. I just hoped they feared me enough not to mess with me. I pulled out Igor’s gun and passed it to him. ‘Same team. Remember that,’ I whispered and was gone.
*****
Oh. My. God. Did that just happen? As I left the building, I could barely control my hands shaking. I felt like an actor coming off stage which, in a way, I was. I had managed to convince two of the toughest men in the world that I was a threat. I was in the game; I just wasn’t sure I knew how to play.
I needed to think. I needed a drink. I also needed to stop rhyming my sentences. There were taxis waiting attentively outside and I jumped in one, asking them to take me to ‘any bar.’ They obliged and we drove along for a few minutes in perfect silence. My brain was racing at a thousand miles an hour and I wasn’t sure when it was going to calm down. I had managed to control myself in the hotel room but my body was now having a reaction to all those lies. I convinced myself that I could handle it and took some deep breaths to calm down.
It wasn’t long before I was in a bar. To this day, I cannot remember the name of it, not because I left it drunk (which I didn’t) but because my mind appeared to be running blank.
I do remember the feeling of drinking that first beer. I am not a huge beer-drinker but I do enjoy a cold one when watching the football with mates. As the cold alcohol touched my lips I instantly felt some of the life return to me. Things weren’t so bad. Scratch that, things were pretty great. I couldn’t have played it any better and I had left the Dorchester still breathing. And with all my limbs. That was more than I'd dared to hope for.
I was beginning to notice a change in me. Life had always happened to me before and I had always let it. But now I was taking control. Sure, I was still terrified when I was doing it, but I was doing it nevertheless. As I drank, I looked back over everything I had achieved since Emma had gone. I remembered the pathetic man I used to be; crying alone and too afraid to get out of bed. He was dead and the new Tom was here. I just hoped the new Tom was smart enough not to end up dead as well.
I was careful not to drink more than two bottles of beer and before I knew it I was leaving the bar and in a taxi heading home. I still struggled to really refer to my new flat as home, but it was a bed (however uncomfortable) to sleep on. I wasn’t quite ready to go yet.
‘Wait,’ I called out to the cabby. He turned his head quickly to check I was alright and continued driving slowly.
‘Sorry. Change of plans. Can we head to 14 Parlour Street, West London?’
*****
There was a terrifying moment when the taxi driver said he had never heard of Parlour Street. What if they had given me the wrong address and disappeared? What if they had just lied to me and got away? I was beginning to panic. I was pleased to hear that the cabby had found the street on his Sat Nav. It was a real place. Thank God.
‘It’s going to take half an hour. It will cost you. Are you sure you want to go?’
‘I have to,’ I replied.
‘Right you are,’ he mumbled and we were off, heading in a new bearing.
The journey was long and uneventful. I was quite happy to sit with my thoughts in the silence and only found it awkward when my driver attempted to make small talk. I hate small talk. What is the point? This was a simple business transaction. I pay him (too much) money for him to drive me there. At no point have I asked for a little light conversation on the side.
Parlour Street was a fairly well maintained road, in a decent part of town. It wasn’t Chelsea but it wasn’t a million miles away (literally). The houses looked small but nice and the pavements were clear from litter and hooded trouble-makers. Nothing like my flat then.
I asked the taxi driver to wait and keep the meter running while I checked out number 14. It seemed simple enough. You would never know that it was a Russian mob safe house from the outside. The lights were all out and there were no signs of activity from within. Maybe nobody was there. Maybe she wasn’t back yet.
I decided that I would knock on the door, making sure I was armed and demand to see her if anyone answered. If they were afraid of me in any way they would let me see her. I had to see Emma. As I walked up the steps to the front door I could hear my heart beating louder than my feet
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