Licence To Howl by Helen Harper

Chapter Twenty

The young manwith the tablet was tasked with escorting them to Fiumicino airport. It was likely his last task before he went home to sleep for the day.

‘This really would be easier,’ he muttered, from the middle seat in the back seat of the embassy car, ‘if you had your passports with you. It’s bad enough that we have to side-step the police. You’ll have to go through the diplomatic channels. It’s being arranged already with Roman immigration but it’s really not supposed to happen this way.’

Devereau had the sense that the man was mostly annoyed about the paperwork he’d be forced to do as a result of their supposedly illegal, albeit MI5 sanctioned, travel. Not to mention their sudden disappearance when they were both wanted for questioning by the Italian police. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked. He might as well butter the poor fellow up.

‘Mark.’

‘Well, Mark,’ Devereau said. ‘I appreciate all that you’re doing to help us. Your country called and you answered.’ Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Scarlett’s mouth twitch.

‘Devereau is right,’ she agreed. ‘You’re performing a vital service and we will ensure you are rewarded. I don’t imagine this sort of thing usually happens on the night shift.’

Mark’s cheeks had taken on a faint flush. It was clear the praise was making him both uncomfortable and pleased all at the same time. ‘Not normally, no. Most of my work,’ he said grudgingly, ‘involves drunk tourists who are banged by the Roma polis. It’s not very glamorous.’

‘I bet your parents are proud though,’ Scarlett said. ‘Mine would be.’

He looked down. ‘Yeah. They’re impressed. I’m just another civil servant as far the government is concerned but my mum and dad are thrilled.’

‘As they should be.’

‘Mark,’ Devereau said, ‘does the acronym RBPL mean anything to you?’

He pursed his lips and thought about it. ‘The Royal Borough of Parks in London?’ he guessed.

‘Is that a thing?’

‘Not that I know of. It could be though.’ His fingers twitched at the shiny material of his trousers. Then he fell silent and didn’t say anything until the car pulled up outside Terminal 3. ‘Wait here. I’ll go and find our escort through immigration.’ He exited the car although the driver remained in the front seat. And as soon as Mark had left, there was a click as the car doors were locked. Hmm.

‘Did you text Moretti?’ Devereau asked casually.

‘Yep.’ She looked him up and down. ‘How are you feeling now?’

‘Sore,’ Devereau admitted. ‘But I’m getting better.’

‘Better enough to go for a run?’

‘I suppose,’ he said. ‘If it was a short one.’

Scarlett leaned back against her seat. ‘That’s good to know. You must be on the mend.’

A minute or two passed. Then the passenger door opened from the outside. ‘Okay,’ Mark said. ‘We’re all sorted. If you want to step out and come with me, I’ll take you right up to the gate.’ He pointed at a gruff looking official standing to the side. ‘This is Antonio Scalzi. He’ll be coming with us.’

MI5 weren’t taking any chances. Sarah Greensmith – or by extension her bosses – were desperate to get both Devereau and Scarlett out of Rome and apparently he wasn’t to be trusted to leave without his own babysitters. He’d gone from being a genuine help to a vexing hindrance. MI5 should get used to it; Devereau often had this effect on people.

‘Sure,’ he said easily. He stepped out, followed by Scarlett. Then he took a moment to pause and stretch. Man, that felt good.

‘It looks like it’ll be a pretty sunrise,’ Scarlett commented. She turned to look at the horizon, squinting over the top of a nearby airport carpark.

‘They often are in Rome,’ Mark agreed.

Devereau reached across and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’re a good guy,’ he said, ‘doing a thankless job. I’ll make sure the higher-ups know that none of this was your fault.’

Mark’s forehead creased. ‘What do you mean?’

Scalzi, the Italian official, took a step towards them. Devereau smiled. And then a split second he pivoted round and both he and Scarlett were running away from the terminal building and towards the car park she’d been gazing at.

‘Hey!’ Mark yelled. ‘Wait! What are you doing?’

‘We really better not be going far,’ Devereau said to Scarlett. The burning pain in his legs was swiftly making a comeback and, by the sound of the heavy footsteps behind them, Scalzi had already taken up pursuit.

‘We’re not,’ she told him. ‘I promise.’ She darted down a flight of stairs and threw open the heavy car park door and beckoning him ahead. ‘Straight ahead. There should be a black BMW at the far end.’

Devereau nodded and did his best to sprint. It wasn’t easy. It was, however, enough. While Scarlett stayed by the door, slamming the heel of her hand into Scalzi’s nose when he appeared, he continued forward. Moments later, the BMW appeared, its tires squealing as it sped down the car park. It halted right in front of Devereau and the back door swung open.

‘In you get,’ Moretti grinned.

Devereau didn’t need told twice.

Scarlett appeared from behind and joined them. ‘I just assaulted a Roman official,’ she grunted. ‘This hero complex shite better be worth the effort.’

Tell me about it, Devereau thought. ‘I hate leaving a job unfinished,’ he said, reaching down to massage his calf.

‘Amen,’ she said. ‘Amen to that.’

* * *

They madeit out of the car park and away from the airport with ease. Devereau imagined that young Mark was having to make a difficult phone call right about now. He’d do what he could to smooth things over for him later. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. Right now, however, they had far bigger worries.

‘Your things are in the boot,’ Moretti told him. ‘We’ve arranged to pick up your bag as well,’ he said to Scarlett. ‘Although your presence in Rome was not heavily advertised, it’s best if you don’t go back to that same building.’

She nodded. ‘Agreed.’ Then she glanced at Devereau. ‘So what’s the plan? Presumably, we need to find out who killed Solentino and what they’re going to do next.’

‘Indeed. It’s possible our killer won’t be a threat and their sole purpose was to put Solentino and his gang out of action. It’s also possible that they wanted to steal Solentino’s plans and put them into action on their own. We need to be prepared for both possibilities.’

Scarlett gestured towards Devereau’s stomach. ‘Solentino wanted the Ring of All Seasons. I wonder if that’s still in play.’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe. I doubt it, however. I think it was supposed to be Solentino’s own insurance policy. It’s not going to be vital to whoever else might be taking up the reins.’ Alina Bonnet’s face flashed into his mind. She’d desperately wanted the ring. Unfortunately it wouldn’t do her any good now, wherever she was. He rubbed his chin, his fingertips rasping against the dark line of stubble across his jawline.

‘We have three lines of inquiry,’ he said. ‘We have to find Geraint Vissier. He’ll be able to tell us exactly what Solentino was planning, and he might have an idea about who betrayed him.’

‘I might be able to help with that,’ Moretti said. ‘The police are looking out for him as well so he’s no doubt gone to ground. But my wolves can reach the corners that the authorities can’t. I’ll put out an alert and see what turns up.’

Devereau indicated his thanks. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘We also need to see if we can locate Stefan Avanopoulos.’

Scarlett’s expression brightened. ‘The Greek. Solentino wanted his help with transport issues.’

‘Mmmhmm.’ Devereau dropped his hands to his lap. ‘If he heard about Solentino’s plan from either Geraint Vissier or Rick Moore, he might have decided that he wanted the action all to himself. Avanopoulos might be our killer.’

‘I’m on good terms with one of the alpha werewolves in Athens,’ Moretti said. ‘I’ll contact her and see if she’s heard of this man.’

‘What’s the third thing?’ Scarlett asked. ‘That’s only two lines of inquiry. You said there were three.’

Devereau opened his mouth to answer. Then he closed it again.

‘What?’ she asked. ‘What is it?’

He drew in a breath. ‘I’d been going to say RBPL. But we might already know what that refers to.’

Scarlett stilled. ‘What?’

‘That embassy kid said it himself. Royal Borough of Parks in London.’

‘But that doesn’t mean anything. There’s no such thing.’

‘London,’ Devereau said quietly. ‘Remember Solentino’s reasons for wanting me to kill you? He wanted to know if Horvarth would have any issue with you working for your own interests in Rome. Or Berlin. Or Paris.’

Scarlett stared at him. ‘And I effectively told him that as long as it wasn’t London, it would be fine. Rome. Berlin. Paris.’ She paused for a beat. ‘London.’

‘RBPL.’

‘Shit.’ She let out a low whistle. ‘So we think something was planned for those four cities?’

Devereau felt a twitch between his shoulder blades. ‘It looks that way. Greensmith herself said that Solentino’s old contact called Bartan was killed in Berlin. He had terrorist links.’

‘Fuck.’

Moretti’s face darkened. ‘Something terrorist is planned? Here? In Rome?’

‘Potentially.’

‘Why?’

‘Not for any cause or ideology.’ Devereau rubbed his thumb and forefingers together. ‘Solentino was all about the money.’

Moretti’s hands were clenched into tight fists. ‘Terrorism doesn’t strike me as a particularly lucrative line of work.’

‘Unless,’ Scarlett mused, ‘you’re planning to use it as a threat to hold cities to ransom.’

‘He wanted Avanopoulos involved because of transport issues. Solentino said himself that the Greek was amenable to transporting goods to Paris, Berlin and London and sourcing some materials that he still required.’

‘Explosive materials, no doubt,’ Moretti growled.

Devereau’s stomach twisted. Fuck. Oh, fuck. ‘I need to contact Greensmith again.’

‘You also need to rest,’ Scarlett chided, ‘or you’ll be no good to anyone.’

‘I’ll search for Vissier and Avanopoulos. You won’t be much help with that anyway,’ Moretti said. ‘In the meantime you call this Green lady and get some sleep.’ His features twisted into a snarl. ‘And then we bring all these fuckers down.’

All three of them looked at each other. ‘That sounds,’ Devereau said grimly, ‘like a damned good plan.’