The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(54)

‘Maybe. Maybe not . . . People tend not to take you seriously if you throw in something absurd, even if it’s the truth.’

Ryan was running out of ideas.

‘Leave it with me,’ Newman said. ‘It shouldn’t take long to trace Forsythe, assuming that’s her real name.’

‘Yeah, well you’d know all about identity theft, wouldn’t you?’

Newman ignored the dig. ‘We nail Forsythe, we’re halfway to making our move on O’Neil.’

‘You’ve been a spook too long, Frank. You need to re-join the real world.’

Without comment, Newman stood up and made his exit. Ryan didn’t follow. Of all the scenarios that had gone through his head on the way to the pub, none compared to the bombshell the spook had delivered. Newman made O’Neil sound like the enemy.

Maybe that’s what she was.





31


Having got his head into gear, Ryan was back at base within the hour. He took in a breath as he entered the apartment. O’Neil was nowhere to be seen. He felt relieved, unsure how he would face her with Newman’s revelations ringing in his ears. Ryan felt guilty for the treachery and for ridiculing Newman without good cause. The spook was calling it as he saw it. Ryan owed him an apology and made his way across the room to voice it.

‘I was out of order earlier,’ he said quietly.

Newman waved away the act of contrition.

Grace looked up. ‘Out of order?’ Newman put a finger to his lips, alerting Ryan to the fact that O’Neil was in the apartment, his wife to the fact that she should let it go. When no explanation was forthcoming from either man, Grace rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you two have been fighting again!’

Ignoring his new bride, Newman spoke quickly, half his attention on the bathroom door, half on Ryan. ‘We can make this easy,’ he said. ‘Next time we get an opportunity to examine O’Neil’s phone we take it. If we can get a number for this woman, I can find out who she is instantly.’

‘What woman?’ Grace whispered.

Ryan acted as if she wasn’t there. ‘Not going to happen, Frank. O’Neil told me, in no uncertain terms, never to touch her phone and I promised I wouldn’t.’ He shook his head vigorously, a gesture that generated a scornful expression from the spook. ‘I mean it, Frank. I won’t snoop on her. Don’t ask me to—’

‘Fine! You get the prize for righteousness. Leave it with me.’

He was about to move away as O’Neil re-entered the room. ‘Did I miss something?’

‘Boys’ talk,’ Grace covered for them. ‘I’ve heard more scintillating conversation at the crem.’

‘We have time to mess around?’ O’Neil eyed the two men warily. ‘You ready to go to work now?’

Ryan and Newman were nodding like schoolboys caught smoking behind the bike sheds. With no clue as to what was going on between them, Grace got on with her work, content to wait it out until she had the opportunity to bone them about this mystery woman.

O’Neil was staring at Ryan. ‘Was there something else?’

‘No, guv.’ In his ears, those two small words sounded very wrong. What he wanted to say was: Whatever gave you that idea? Of course there’s something else! By the way, is that your real name? Is the name Hilary Forsythe fictitious too? Who the hell are you, Eloise? What are you? And while we’re at it, why have you been lying to me?

‘Can we have a word?’ O’Neil took him into the hallway and shut the connecting door. ‘Is this about running out on you last night?’

‘What? No!’

‘Are you sure? You seem pissed off.’

Ryan flushed up. ‘You had other plans. It’s no biggie.’

‘We’re cool?’

‘We’re cool.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

Her smile could melt steel. Ryan fought the urge to meet her eyes. She’d see through him. How long could he keep up the pretence? He liked this woman – more than liked – and it bugged him to think that she wasn’t who she said she was.

She’s using you.

He could’ve decked Newman for saying that, but what if she was? What then? What if the new unit was a cover for something else? What if everything he thought he knew about her was a sham? Ryan hated to think he was that gullible. On the one hand, he was beginning to regret ever setting eyes on her. On the other, he’d do anything to prove Newman wrong.

‘Ryan? Will you please tell me what the hell is wrong with you?’

Now he looked at her. ‘I’m fine, guv.’

‘I can see you’re not.’

He offered no explanation.

How could he?

‘Whatever it is, get your act together, and don’t take all day,’ O’Neil said. ‘In view of our plans to stake out the lock-up this evening, I’d like to bring the briefing forward. Frank will take the lead. Since he’s back from the capital, I must assume he has something to feed in—’

‘He hasn’t done it yet?’

‘I had to pop out. He was here when I got back. Where were you?’

‘Needed some air.’

‘You need to focus.’

Ryan wondered if she’d followed him; if she’d seen him meeting Newman out of the office – if she was testing him – if she was MI5. That was a lot of ifs. He couldn’t shake that thought as she led him to the others, inviting Grace and Newman to leave their desks and sit with them.