to Ken. Something to make him go mad.'
'Did you get a chance to check out any of the other cases?'
'I've spent the day doing just that. I looked up what units they had served in and tried to get hold of their commanding officers. No luck. Both of them said they couldn't discuss that, and put the phone down on me.'
'That's the army for you,' said Matt. 'Never apologise, never explain, particularly with civilians.'
'Then I tried the GPs,' persisted Eleanor. 'I didn't expect the officers to tell me much, but I thought the local doctors might know something. I tried Sam Mentorn's GP first, but the guy had only registered with the surgery, he had never actually been in for any treatment. She didn't know anything about him. Next I tried David Helton's GP. He'd been in for a foot injury about a year ago, but since then nothing. The doctor said he'd been in touch with the local police after the incident to see if he could help out with anything, but they didn't seem very interested. He didn't know of any similar episodes, and couldn't think of anything else he could help me with.' Eleanor looked up. 'All the doors are slamming shut in my face, Matt.'
'There's no evidence of a link,' said Matt. 'I mean, it could just be the hot weather. It's making me a bit crazy, that's for sure.'
'That's different,' replied Eleanor. 'Hot weather causes panic and anxiety attacks, particularly in people with high blood pressure. That's because of all the extra work the body has to do to stay cool. But there's quite a difference between an anxiety attack, and driving a car into a group of shoppers.' Her hand reached across the table. 'I'm sorry to do this to you, Matt, but you're the only person I know who's familiar with the military.'
Matt could feel her skin touching his. 'You want me to ask around?'
'Somebody, somewhere, must know something,' she said softly. 'If these incidents are linked, then we can't be the only people who've noticed.'
'I'll do what I can,' replied Matt. 'But I can't promise anything. Who knows, maybe it is just a coincidence?'
'Maybe,' said Eleanor, draining the last of her coffee. 'And maybe we'll put our minds at rest.'
EIGHT
The façade of the apartment building dated back to the nineteenth century, one of the magnificent old tsarist buildings that lined the main streets of Kiev. But inside, the apartment had been completely modernised. Its pale blue carpet looked as if it had never been stepped on, and the paintwork was unblemished.
'I've booked this place for as long as we might need it,' said Orlena as they stepped through the door. 'It'll be our base until the job is finished.'
Better than a barracks. We're going up in the world.
Matt had no idea what part of Kiev he might be in. Somewhere near the centre, judging by the ride into the town. They had touched down at Borispol airport ten minutes early after a smooth flight of just over three hours, and a car had been waiting to bring them into the city. Neither Matt nor Ivan had packed much gear. A spare pair of jeans, some shirts, and a leather jacket in case it was cooler in Kiev than it was in London.
Whatever kit we need for this job, we will source it locally.
'When do we start?' asked Matt.
'Tomorrow,' said Orlena. 'Tonight we sleep, then in the morning we get down to work.'
Matt checked out his bedroom. A small double bed, with a plain blue duvet, and a small lamp. There was nothing on the walls, and no books or magazines. We kip, we fight and then we go home.
'Time for a beer, though,' he said, stepping into the sitting room. 'Where can you get a drink around here?'
'Or a game of chess?' said Ivan.
Orlena looked at him with interest. 'You play?'
Ivan shrugged. 'If I was in Spain, I'd go to a bullfight, if I was in America I'd watch baseball. Chess is the national game, right? Ruslan Ponomariov beat Vasilly Ivanchuk to become the youngest FIDE world champion in history last year. He was just eighteen. So I'd say Kiev was the kind of place you might find a game of
'Did you get a chance to check out any of the other cases?'
'I've spent the day doing just that. I looked up what units they had served in and tried to get hold of their commanding officers. No luck. Both of them said they couldn't discuss that, and put the phone down on me.'
'That's the army for you,' said Matt. 'Never apologise, never explain, particularly with civilians.'
'Then I tried the GPs,' persisted Eleanor. 'I didn't expect the officers to tell me much, but I thought the local doctors might know something. I tried Sam Mentorn's GP first, but the guy had only registered with the surgery, he had never actually been in for any treatment. She didn't know anything about him. Next I tried David Helton's GP. He'd been in for a foot injury about a year ago, but since then nothing. The doctor said he'd been in touch with the local police after the incident to see if he could help out with anything, but they didn't seem very interested. He didn't know of any similar episodes, and couldn't think of anything else he could help me with.' Eleanor looked up. 'All the doors are slamming shut in my face, Matt.'
'There's no evidence of a link,' said Matt. 'I mean, it could just be the hot weather. It's making me a bit crazy, that's for sure.'
'That's different,' replied Eleanor. 'Hot weather causes panic and anxiety attacks, particularly in people with high blood pressure. That's because of all the extra work the body has to do to stay cool. But there's quite a difference between an anxiety attack, and driving a car into a group of shoppers.' Her hand reached across the table. 'I'm sorry to do this to you, Matt, but you're the only person I know who's familiar with the military.'
Matt could feel her skin touching his. 'You want me to ask around?'
'Somebody, somewhere, must know something,' she said softly. 'If these incidents are linked, then we can't be the only people who've noticed.'
'I'll do what I can,' replied Matt. 'But I can't promise anything. Who knows, maybe it is just a coincidence?'
'Maybe,' said Eleanor, draining the last of her coffee. 'And maybe we'll put our minds at rest.'
EIGHT
The façade of the apartment building dated back to the nineteenth century, one of the magnificent old tsarist buildings that lined the main streets of Kiev. But inside, the apartment had been completely modernised. Its pale blue carpet looked as if it had never been stepped on, and the paintwork was unblemished.
'I've booked this place for as long as we might need it,' said Orlena as they stepped through the door. 'It'll be our base until the job is finished.'
Better than a barracks. We're going up in the world.
Matt had no idea what part of Kiev he might be in. Somewhere near the centre, judging by the ride into the town. They had touched down at Borispol airport ten minutes early after a smooth flight of just over three hours, and a car had been waiting to bring them into the city. Neither Matt nor Ivan had packed much gear. A spare pair of jeans, some shirts, and a leather jacket in case it was cooler in Kiev than it was in London.
Whatever kit we need for this job, we will source it locally.
'When do we start?' asked Matt.
'Tomorrow,' said Orlena. 'Tonight we sleep, then in the morning we get down to work.'
Matt checked out his bedroom. A small double bed, with a plain blue duvet, and a small lamp. There was nothing on the walls, and no books or magazines. We kip, we fight and then we go home.
'Time for a beer, though,' he said, stepping into the sitting room. 'Where can you get a drink around here?'
'Or a game of chess?' said Ivan.
Orlena looked at him with interest. 'You play?'
Ivan shrugged. 'If I was in Spain, I'd go to a bullfight, if I was in America I'd watch baseball. Chess is the national game, right? Ruslan Ponomariov beat Vasilly Ivanchuk to become the youngest FIDE world champion in history last year. He was just eighteen. So I'd say Kiev was the kind of place you might find a game of
Similar Books
