Conflict of Interest

It was all making sense. As she replaced her lingerie drawer, trying to block out of her mind the knowledge that unknown fingers had been searching through it only hours earlier, she realised what was going on. They were trying to find out how much she knew; how big a threat she was. And if she became a problem to them, she had no illusions about what would happen to her. She would join the roll-call of victims that included van Aardt and de Vere, and God knew who else. A fatal mishap would befall her – of that she had no doubt. The question was – what could she do to stop them?

•••

‘I have some disturbing news.’ D’Andrea always used the Boardroom when he needed to impart particularly sensitive information. Soundproof, and swept for bugging devices every morning, it was the one room in the building in which there was no chance of anyone eavesdropping on the conversation.

Across the Boardroom table, in the late-afternoon shadows, Elliott North raised his eyebrows.

D’Andrea opened the brown A4 envelope in front of him and took out a photograph which he pushed across the table. ‘This was taken three nights ago. Kitchen of Treiger’s new house.’

North glanced at the photo. ‘Who’s the girl?’ he wanted to know immediately.

D’Andrea paused before answering. When he did, his voice was quiet. ‘Judith Laing.’

North shot him a disbelieving glare, before looking back at the photo, which showed the couple standing close together in a kitchen. ‘What the—?’

‘It seems they know each other rather well.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ North’s face filled with sudden fury, the red marks at his temples deepening several shades.

‘I was about to do exactly that.’

‘Of all the people he could hit on.’

‘Oh, it’s worse than that, I’m afraid. Very much worse.’ D’Andrea retained his provocative calm.

‘How could it be any worse?’ North fixed d’Andrea with a savage expression, as though holding him personally responsible.

In the twilight shadows, d’Andrea responded with a look of distaste. ‘It would seem the two have been in an on-off relationship for the past ten years.’

North struck the table with his fist with an almighty thump. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he screamed, jumping up from the table and pacing the room. ‘Why the fuck are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you say anything before we hired the son of a bitch?’

D’Andrea observed North’s tantrum with a cool detachment. ‘We didn’t know,’ he shrugged.

‘But it’s your job to find out.’

‘We find out what we can. But when a relationship has been … dormant for a period of several years—’

‘Judith Laing is turning into a major issue. A week ago I’d never heard of the dumb bitch. Now she’s all over Starwear and Treiger.’

‘I believe we passed on both those pieces of information,’ d’Andrea reminded him evenly.

‘Routine surveillance,’ snapped North, shoving hands in his trouser pockets as he stood staring out of the Boardroom window. ‘Ten years. Like an old married couple, and you never picked it up.’

‘Clairvoyance is not one of our specialisms.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘What it means’, d’Andrea addressed his back, ‘is that if there’d been a relationship to pick up, as you put it, we’d have picked it up. But there wasn’t. None of Treiger’s friends or colleagues knew anything about a girlfriend. The two of them haven’t exchanged a single phone call since Treiger started here. There have been no visits or physical contact since,’ he nodded at the photo, ‘that night. It’s my belief that they aren’t regularly in touch. But last Saturday night they found themselves at the same party, they had a few drinks … and so it goes.’

‘And so it goes, huh?’ North turned back from the window. ‘All very well you giving me this “and so it goes” crap. I’ve got to patch up a major security leak.’

For a long while, d’Andrea regarded him with a long stare, scratching one of the liver blotches on his hands before saying finally, ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ The welts on North’s forehead were burning deep crimson.

‘You don’t know if anything leaked. We’ve carried out a search of Judith Laing’s flat this afternoon. We also downloaded all the files from her computer at work.’

He paused, observing North’s surprised expression. ‘Nothing on Starwear.’