Read Online Vendetta by Dreda Say Mitchell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dreda Say Mitchell
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If Trish screamed, the game was up. She froze.
‘Keep your mouth shut and nothing will happen to you,’ he ground out. ‘Get under the desk.’
But she didn’t move, just gazed back at him, eyes wide with terror and shock.
‘Now.’
She scrambled up and down, the harsh beat of her breathing filling the air. Mac vaulted the desk. Made sure that the receptionist couldn’t see him put his piece away.
‘Where do I find the members’ details?’ he growled down at her.
All he got back was a whimper.
‘I’m not going to hurt you, just tell me what I want to know. But don’t make a sound, not even a tear, or I’ll really give you something to wail about.’
Her voice came back muffled, high and shaking. ‘On the desktop there’s a directory marked “Members”. Go into it and click on a folder called “Details”.’
Quickly Mac followed the instructions. Soon the list of members and their details came up on the screen. It was set out alphabetically, surnames first and personal details below. Rapidly he scrolled down the screen.
A. B. C. He kept going until he found R.
Raab.
Rabinovitch.
Rahman.
Romanov. He’d found her. But when he checked the first name it was someone called Katia.
He pushed the file up so he could read the name in the next entry.
Surname: Romanov.
First name: Elena
Address: 17 Fountain Road London SE15
No phone number. No email.
Suddenly voices hit the reception as two women carrying towels and talking came into view. Still chatting away, they walked towards the desk. Mac straightened up, but kept his hand on the computer.
‘Hi,’ one of the women said. ‘We’re looking for Trish.’ Her gaze darted around.
He gave her a professional look when she caught his eye again. ‘She’s gone off somewhere while I sort this computer out.’
‘But she said to renew my membership when I finished my session.’
He smiled. ‘Best come back after you’ve had a shower and got dressed.’
For a second she hesitated. Then, ‘OK, will do.’
As she turned away with her partner, Mac whispered, ‘Take it easy, Trish, and everything’s gonna be all right.’
No sound greeted his command, so he got back on with the job. Calmly closed the file. Head low, he vaulted the desk and headed for the door. Abruptly he stopped and swung back around. Headed back towards the desk. Jumped it again. This time he hit some buttons on the cash register. Ping. It opened. He grabbed all of the notes, mainly twenties and tens. Shoved them into his pocket. Then he was back on the other side of the desk. Hood swaying, head down, moving with speed to the door. As he opened it, Trish the freezer became Trish the screamer. The shrill noise she made followed him as he calmly walked down the street on his way to find out if Elena’s home would yield any clues about her death.
sixteen
11 a.m.
Elena’s home was in a bog-standard Victorian terrace divided into one-up, one-down apartments. On the doorframe were two buzzers. The one for the lower flat had the initials ‘JB’ on a card in a slot, while the other had no indication who the current occupant might be. Mac figured the apartment with no name must be Elena’s. He stood back and looked up at the windows above. Curtains shut tight, no sign of life. No easy way of getting in either. The front door was solid and getting round the back would involve climbing through a whole series of back gardens, which would expose him to being clocked by some of the neighbours. And nosey neighbours usually called the cops.
So he went with the last alternative left to him, he rang JB’s buzzer. A face appeared behind a bamboo blind on the downstairs bay window. Young woman who didn’t look especially welcoming. Mac put on his best smile. She looked at him, hesitated for a few moments and then let the blind go. Seconds later, the door opened a fraction, guarded by a secure chain. The woman was pretty, with two blonde pigtails, which should’ve looked silly on
‘Keep your mouth shut and nothing will happen to you,’ he ground out. ‘Get under the desk.’
But she didn’t move, just gazed back at him, eyes wide with terror and shock.
‘Now.’
She scrambled up and down, the harsh beat of her breathing filling the air. Mac vaulted the desk. Made sure that the receptionist couldn’t see him put his piece away.
‘Where do I find the members’ details?’ he growled down at her.
All he got back was a whimper.
‘I’m not going to hurt you, just tell me what I want to know. But don’t make a sound, not even a tear, or I’ll really give you something to wail about.’
Her voice came back muffled, high and shaking. ‘On the desktop there’s a directory marked “Members”. Go into it and click on a folder called “Details”.’
Quickly Mac followed the instructions. Soon the list of members and their details came up on the screen. It was set out alphabetically, surnames first and personal details below. Rapidly he scrolled down the screen.
A. B. C. He kept going until he found R.
Raab.
Rabinovitch.
Rahman.
Romanov. He’d found her. But when he checked the first name it was someone called Katia.
He pushed the file up so he could read the name in the next entry.
Surname: Romanov.
First name: Elena
Address: 17 Fountain Road London SE15
No phone number. No email.
Suddenly voices hit the reception as two women carrying towels and talking came into view. Still chatting away, they walked towards the desk. Mac straightened up, but kept his hand on the computer.
‘Hi,’ one of the women said. ‘We’re looking for Trish.’ Her gaze darted around.
He gave her a professional look when she caught his eye again. ‘She’s gone off somewhere while I sort this computer out.’
‘But she said to renew my membership when I finished my session.’
He smiled. ‘Best come back after you’ve had a shower and got dressed.’
For a second she hesitated. Then, ‘OK, will do.’
As she turned away with her partner, Mac whispered, ‘Take it easy, Trish, and everything’s gonna be all right.’
No sound greeted his command, so he got back on with the job. Calmly closed the file. Head low, he vaulted the desk and headed for the door. Abruptly he stopped and swung back around. Headed back towards the desk. Jumped it again. This time he hit some buttons on the cash register. Ping. It opened. He grabbed all of the notes, mainly twenties and tens. Shoved them into his pocket. Then he was back on the other side of the desk. Hood swaying, head down, moving with speed to the door. As he opened it, Trish the freezer became Trish the screamer. The shrill noise she made followed him as he calmly walked down the street on his way to find out if Elena’s home would yield any clues about her death.
sixteen
11 a.m.
Elena’s home was in a bog-standard Victorian terrace divided into one-up, one-down apartments. On the doorframe were two buzzers. The one for the lower flat had the initials ‘JB’ on a card in a slot, while the other had no indication who the current occupant might be. Mac figured the apartment with no name must be Elena’s. He stood back and looked up at the windows above. Curtains shut tight, no sign of life. No easy way of getting in either. The front door was solid and getting round the back would involve climbing through a whole series of back gardens, which would expose him to being clocked by some of the neighbours. And nosey neighbours usually called the cops.
So he went with the last alternative left to him, he rang JB’s buzzer. A face appeared behind a bamboo blind on the downstairs bay window. Young woman who didn’t look especially welcoming. Mac put on his best smile. She looked at him, hesitated for a few moments and then let the blind go. Seconds later, the door opened a fraction, guarded by a secure chain. The woman was pretty, with two blonde pigtails, which should’ve looked silly on
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