He stood quietly at the door, oblivious to the arguing voices of the two departing detectives. Whilst their arrival had proved fortuitous to an extent, providing him with pause for thought, the subject on her mind wasn’t about to magically disappear overnight. He wished now he’d bothered to persevere with the book, then the conversation would never have happened. He understood they were comfortable with their present lifestyle, able to do howsoever they pleased, and couldn’t see what it was that needed to change. The future would surely look after itself. What else was there to plan? Nevertheless, he couldn’t help thinking the brief exchange had introduced a change of mood, altered the existing dynamic between them, one which he believed was set in stone.
He sighed. Maybe it was nothing of importance at all, and he was being unnecessarily irrational. So far better to tackle the subject and get it out of the way, whatever it was. He stepped into the living room and saw her waiting, sitting patiently on the sofa for his return.
“I thought you said Will knew the woman.”
“He does. Obviously he doesn’t want the police to know so I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Why doesn’t he want them to know?” she asked.
Matt shrugged.
“Who knows? I might ask him sometime.”
As he feared, the environment between them had changed, an uncomfortable air of uncertainty existed where there was none before. He was at a loss how to break the unusual silence but felt he had to try. With impeccable timing the doorbell rang for a second time to provide him with a get-out clause, answering police questions had to be easier. Recognising the look of relief on his face she jumped up and hurried towards the door, brushing past him in the process. He thought this had broken the spell, until she turned abruptly.
“It’s not something you can avoid forever. We have to talk about it one day,” she said.
His defensive smile did little to ease the mood. Less so given he’d avoided even agreeing to a discussion. What on earth is ‘it’ he wondered as she strode away. Thoughts were swiftly broken by her reappearance.
“It’s Will,” she said.
He half raised an arm in an attempt to make some sort of conciliatory gesture only to be disappointed by her rapid exit, through to the kitchen to make coffee. He decided to leave her to it and turned to discover his friend fiddling with the rear of the large screen television.
“Will, what the hell are you doing?”
“This will only take a minute.”
Will busied connecting one end of the electronic lead to the television, the other to a laptop. Matt sat and watched on, curious, as his friend tested the fresh connection. They already had cable and satellite so this had to be something completely new, perhaps a recently launched channel.
The process took a few more seconds to complete and then a picture of a woman sitting behind a desk formed on the forty two inch screen. He instantly recognised the green eyes above the prominent nose surrounded by the immaculately prepared long blonde hair, and elected to hide his surprise.
“Catherine Vogel,” he said with feigned indifference. “The market for global genocide must have gone a little quiet.”
“Hello, Matt. West coast living appears to suit you.”
A figure appeared next to him and placed a coffee mug on the glass table. He glanced up and smiled before answering.
“We don’t have much to complain about in life.”
“Gratia,” acknowledged the face on the screen with a slight nod and blink of her eyes.
“Her name is Grace now,” he said.
“Of course,” she said. “I apologise.”
“And to what do we owe this unexpected and something of an unwelcome pleasure?” he asked
“I need to talk to you.”
“Really?” he sniped. “I recall you saying we would never talk again.”
“Alone,” she said.
The figure started to move away and he reached for a hand to prevent her departure.
“No,” he snapped. “Anything you have to say to me you say to Grace, too.”
He tugged lightly at her hand and she sat down beside him. Catherine’s face mirrored mild irritation.
“The choice is yours.”
He kept a tight hold, wanting her to feel his affectionate touch. Grace responded by wrapping her other hand round his arm, which he took to be a good sign.
“A matter has recently arisen in which we would welcome your input and assistance,” said the face from the screen.
Matt burst into sarcastic laughter.
“We?” he said, “It wasn’t that long ago your people were chasing me half way around Europe trying to send me to an early grave.”
“Circumstances have changed.”
“Not from where we’re sitting it hasn’t.”
She looked at her watch.
“I have a little time for games if you so wish.”
As ever, Catherine remained unflappable.
“Then let me save us both a bit of time. Neither Grace nor I have any desire whatsoever to help you or any of your friends. You ordered us to get on and live our lives and that is exactly what we’re doing.”
“We would not come to you if it were not important.”
“To you, perhaps,” he said. “I doubt it’s of any importance to either of us.”
Her eyes narrowed. Catherine leant forward on the desk and clasped her hands together.
“I wish that were true,” she said. “This situation, if allowed to continue unaddressed, will hold consequences for every part of the globe. And this also includes the west coast of North America.”
He decided she was bluffing.
“What is it about the word ‘no’ you are unable to grasp?”
“There is much at stake and events unfold at a rapid pace.”
He glanced at Will, his head bowed in apparent disinterest. Matt had to admit to being intrigued.
“I wish to initiate an introduction,” said Catherine. “There are people who could explain the issue in greater detail.”
“Meet who?” he asked.
“I cannot reveal their identity on this link. It is not secure. The meeting needs to be face to face.”
He had never discovered the true identities of her secretive group.
“No thanks,” he said. “We’re okay as we are.”
The grip of her clasped hands tightened, betraying growing anxiety, which he found intriguing.
“All I ask is you attend a meeting. You will then be better placed to provide us with the advice we need.”
He felt Grace tighten her grip on his arm.
“It is possible non-attendance could disadvantage you,” said Catherine, looking towards Grace.
At first hearing, the statement carried underlying menace. He wasn’t about to be bullied.
“That’s a little heavy-handed, Catherine. You know I don’t respond well to coercion.”
“Forgive me. I had not intended to sound threatening. That was unnecessarily clumsy. The matter is pressing and urgent.”
She had to be worried. Catherine had apologised to them for a start. Now she had his interest.
“What precisely are the particular circumstances?”
Her eyes lit up in the surety she had drawn him in.
“All will be revealed should you agree to attend. We ask no more at this stage. It is accepted your participation will require reimbursement. You can name your price.”
His mind swirled with possibilities, particularly with what could be secured in return. The subsequent silence announced his growing consideration. Grace reacted first, removing her hand to extricate herself from his hold. Catherine watched her rise and leave.
“Do you need a few moments?”
He nodded and headed into the lavishly furnished kitchen, to find her propped against the Belfast sink.
“What do you make of that?”
“Nothing,” she snapped. “The problems of her secretive group are of no concern to us.??
?
“It must be serious for Catherine to approach us.”
“You,” she snapped. “She has approached you, not us.”
“It’s worth a conversation.”
“Now we are to discuss a matter which affects us both … because it is of interest to you,” she replied.
He ignored the barb, his mind already set on what could be gained in return.
“Have you forgotten the last time? Your body still bears the scars of your last encounter with them,” she added.
“All Catherine is asking for is an initial meeting.”
“Initial meeting!” she snapped again. “This is but her first move. You cannot trust her. She is a malevolent witch.”
“Catherine? She’s one of the good guys. Getting you out of prison and saving me from execution. We owe her a lot.”
“We were only in those positions because of her.”
A reasonable observation, he considered, though there were an unusual set of circumstances in play.
“It can’t hurt to talk to her.”
“For a clever man you are remarkably slow to see what is right before your eyes, the blindingly obvious. She seeks to draw you into her web of intrigue and deceit.”
“I can walk away at any time, Grace.”
“While she has drawn your curiosity to the circumstance in question she has already thought several steps beyond. You must know she has other plans for you.”
“I might have some plans, too. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Sometimes I really do wonder.”
He could feel his patience beginning to run thin.
“There is nothing to be gained from this. Your life is here with me,” she continued. “Where we already have mostly all we need.”
“Mostly?” he queried.
“There are things to talk about,” she replied, after a pause.
“Look, there may be a way …”
“A way to what?” she said angrily. “Avoid discussing the things which should be most important to you, our future. Or perhaps you have an ulterior motive for wanting to agree?”
“Like what?”
“Rosa Cain lives in Europe does she not?”
“Where the hell did that one come from?”
“Do you deny it?”
Matt chose not to answer thereby avoiding the potential for escalating a simple disagreement into a bigger, irretrievably wounding argument.
“Look, this sounds as if it could affect us and the only way of being sure is for me to hear what they have to say.”
Grace wasn’t convinced, her eyes blazing intermittent fury and emotional hurt. Perhaps he was being unreasonable. An ugly silence ensued.
“So what do you think? Should I go?”
She glanced away before returning a penetrating gaze.
“The fact you have posed the question tells me it is already in your mind to go,” she said sharply.
“Look, I don’t know what it is. Instinct or some sixth sense perhaps, but something tells me this could be important, to both of us. And there may be …”
“I don’t want you to get involved.”
“Grace …”
She turned and looked out of the window.
“Just go, Matt. You clearly wish to be elsewhere, and only do what it is you want to do anyway. Pack your bags and attend the meeting.”
“We’ll talk when I get back,” he said softly. “I promise.”
She remained silent, motionless and uncommunicative. Matt leant back and peered into the living room to see Will with his arms crossed, trying to pretend he hadn’t been listening. He glanced across and Matt nodded.
“Agreed,” said Will, to the face on the screen.
Chapter Five
Inventory