The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club #3)(16)

The Viking laughs. ‘Me? No. I work for no one. I am a lone wolf.’

‘We all work for someone, old chap,’ says Stephen, eyes still scanning the books. He’s up to something, God bless him.

‘Not me,’ says the Viking. ‘I’m the boss.’ He howls like a wolf, for an uncomfortably long time. Elizabeth waits, patiently, for his howl to end.

‘So why am I here?’ asks Elizabeth. ‘Not your diamonds, not your boss’s diamonds, not your business.’

‘I don’t care about diamonds. You think I care about twenty million? It’s nothing.’

The Viking leans forward in his chair, tilts his head and looks Elizabeth straight in the eyes.

‘You are here because, for some time now, I have been looking into the possibility of killing Viktor Illyich.’

‘I see,’ says Elizabeth.

‘And it isn’t easy,’ says the Viking.

‘I’m sure,’ says Elizabeth. ‘If murder were easy, none of us would survive Christmas.’

‘And, so,’ says the Viking, ‘I want you to kill Viktor Illyich for me.’

The Viking leans back, his cards on the table now. Elizabeth is thinking at speed. What has she found herself in the middle of here? Only this morning she had been thinking about traffic cameras and missing bodies. Now she is being threatened by a Viking. Or propositioned. Often the same thing in her line of work.

Whatever it is, at least it seems that she and Stephen will live to see another day. Let this new game begin, then. She sits back in her chair and clasps her hands together.

‘I don’t kill people, I’m afraid.’

The Viking settles back into his chair, and smiles. ‘We both know that’s not true, Elizabeth Best.’

Elizabeth concedes the point. ‘Here’s your problem though. I’ve only ever killed people who wanted to kill me.’

The Viking reaches for a laptop from a side table, and gives a broad smile. ‘Then we are in luck. Because I am shortly to send an email to Viktor Illyich, with two photographs attached. One photograph of you at Fairhaven train station, opening a locker, and one of you at Fairhaven Pier on the day of the shootout. A situation that has caused Viktor Illyich a great deal of inconvenience.’

‘Banged to rights there, darling,’ says Stephen.

Elizabeth hadn’t known that Viktor was involved with Martin Lomax and the business with the diamonds. But it made sense. Viktor was freelance these days.

‘So you see,’ says the Viking, ‘as soon as he receives these photographs, Viktor Illyich will want to kill you. He will be consumed with revenge. It is very neat. All you need to do now is kill him first.’

‘Kill him yourself, old chap,’ says Stephen. ‘Look at the size of you.’

‘Much easier for me if somebody else does it,’ says the Viking. ‘And who better than a former spy, a little old lady, a woman who knows how to kill, and who has just pulled off one of the thefts of the century? Who better, Stephen?’

‘It’s cowardly,’ says Stephen. ‘Never taken the Swedes for cowards.’

Elizabeth is mulling. Pretending to mull at least. Just arranging her cards in order before playing the first one. She doesn’t have a great hand, though she does have an ace. She will have to proceed with care.

‘Still not for me, I’m afraid,’ says Elizabeth to the Viking. ‘If I refuse, the worst you can do is kill me, which is a nuisance for you, and, honestly, I’ve had a fairly good run. And this would be a nice room to die in. Very cosy.’

The Viking smiles. ‘I think your husband might not agree with that. Perhaps he might like you to stay alive.’

Stephen shrugs. ‘We all go at some point, my Viking friend. I’d rather she wasn’t killed by a cowardly Swede, but best to bow out doing something decent. I’m sure I’d miss her, but someone else would turn up soon enough. Beautiful spies everywhere you look. Falling out of trees.’

Elizabeth smiles. But what if she really were to die? What then? What then for Stephen? Her heart cracks in two, but her face remains placid. Because she knows something the Viking doesn’t know.

‘I think if it’s all the same to you,’ she says, ‘I’m going to take my husband home and forget this conversation ever happened. Put the bags back over our heads: I don’t need to know where I am, and I don’t have any interest in finding out who you are. I understand your position, and I understand why I’m the perfect woman to kill Viktor Illyich, but I’m not going to do it. Which leaves you with two options. Either you kill me – which would be very messy, an awful lot of admin, probably a lot of heat from MI6 when they realize I’ve vanished – or you simply let us go, no more said about it.’

‘Viktor Illyich will kill you though,’ says the Viking. ‘He will find out where you live. I found out easily enough.’

‘I will take my chances,’ says Elizabeth.

Viktor Illyich will not kill Elizabeth, she knows that. That’s her ace. The Viking has been unlucky here. Elizabeth and Stephen will be home before dawn, and will be quite safe. Depending on where they are, of course. ‘So kill me or let me go. Those are your two options. Which do you choose?’

‘I think I choose option three,’ says the Viking. ‘The option where I send Viktor Illyich the full photos.’