Page 44 of Strap In
‘Ms Howard?’
Two…
‘Edinburgh, Rhona. Tell me something I don’t know.’
Three…
‘There are beaches. Everyone loves Portobello, but Cramond’s my favourite.’
Four…
‘Why Cramond, Rhona?’
Five…
‘It’s beautiful. My parents have a little beach house there.’ A muffled sob. ‘I want my mum.’
The words are a lance through Jean’s heart.
Six…The doors glide open. Hugo grabs her free wrist and pulls Jean along the corridor, so quickly that she scarcely has time to read the sign differentiating between ordinary rooms on the left and the executive suite to the right. His legs are longer, and as the former captain of his rugby team he sets a breakneck pace, but Jean spends the last of her breath on maintaining the flow of conversation. ‘We’re nearly there, Rhona. We’re on the sixth floor.’
As they approach, Jean slows, giving Hugo no choice but to follow suit. Leonides is much more likely to open the door if he believes she is alone, not a threat.How little he knows…
‘Hide,’ Jean hisses, waving at the jutting pilasters framing the wall on either side of the door. Obedient, Hugo ducks behind the wooden panelling to the right. The second he’s in place, Jean raises a shaking hand and raps against the door. ‘Mr Leonides?’
Muffled footsteps brush against carpet. ‘Can you not read? The sign saysDo Not Disturb. Fuck off!’
‘Mr Leonides, it’s Jean Howard. I understand my associate is there with you now, that the two of you had a meeting.’
The door swings open to reveal Leonides in a white terrycloth robe, his paunch creating a deep enough V that Jean glimpses more than she ever wanted to of his scrubby black chest hair. His ordinarily sanguine smile is interrupted by a wince – a cut splits his lip, oozing fresh blood as Leonides speaks. ‘What of it?’ He shrugs. ‘I liked her ideas, and wanted to hear more.’
‘We’ve been trying to get hold of Rhona as a matter of urgency.’ A quick glance over his shoulder offers no sign of the girl, nor any obvious doors along the narrow corridor.
A single eyebrow climbs, thick as a caterpillar. ‘And why might that be?’
No accusations. Only the established facts, even if they are of Jean’s own making. ‘Her mother’s sick – as our communications with your team will show.’
‘And what, you’re sending the little girl home to her parents? It makes sense.’ An expansive shrug. ‘After all, you sent a child to do a woman’s job.’
Jean swallows back bile. ‘Rhona Baird is a thoroughly competent junior associate; she has the potential to go far. Surely you agree, Andreas? Why else would a man with all your concerns spend an entire evening on Rhona’s proposals?’
His eye twitches, a subtle tell. ‘Out of the goodness of my heart.’
‘In that case you’ll have no trouble with me taking Rhona. Where is she?’
‘You believe I know this how, precisely?’ It’s a lawyer’s answer, parrying question for question. In another life Leonides would have made a sharp solicitor, shielding fraudsters and rapists from the consequences of their own actions. In this one it’s unlikely he’ll ever see the inside of a courtroom.
‘Because there are two glasses on that table behind you.’ Though the bottle has been righted, a crimson stain’s splattered across the carpet; it could be a murder scene.
Leonides half turns to crane over his shoulder, and Jean darts forward. But he bars her way with an arm across the door frame. Jean bounces back, stumbling in her heels, and his lips twitch. She will not make it past his stocky frame by force – and Leonides knows it too, the smile reaching his eyes.
Hugo stares as Jean rights herself, poised like a hare in the moment before flight, a question in his eyes. But Jean gives the subtlest shake of her head.Not yet.With diplomacy she might still be able to get them out of this relatively unscathed – Rhona and Hugo, client relations, the firm. But if she is careless…
‘You’re wasting your time here, Ms Howard. I recommend that you leave.’
‘Not going to happen. I have Rhona on the line right now; she’s in your bathroom.’ Jean bares her teeth. ‘Perhaps dinner didn’t agree with her.’
A Gallic shrug. ‘The young are frail in constitution.’
