Slowly moving forward...

Only 5 pages added to UG, today. I reworked some of what I wrote yesterday to plug in more questions about Tawfi's connections to the murders...and some of Devlin's conniving. He's just spent hours working with a techie at Tawfi's embassy then had dinner (and some fun) with the man and is now heading back to his hotel...
-------------------

I walked away, remembering to go left then right, and found myself on Sloane Street. A look around showed me a building I knew was across from the station, so towards it I went. This area was made up of really high-end shops that closed by seven, so next to no cars on the street. Nor foot traffic. The fog was getting thicker, but that actually lightened my mood, because I started thinking of The Wax Museum, with big bad Vincent Price. ...

I was closing in on Brompton Road so jaunted onto the street to pass some scaffolding and --

I got grabbed around the neck and yanked back to behind it like I weighed nothing, but I twisted and rolled and slammed the guy against a store window, shattering it as he held onto me and swung me against the wall, so I dug in my pocket for my nail clippers and we crashed across the pavement as I pulled them out and he was choking me and something flashed and I used my sample case to deflect it and shifted the file around and jabbed him in the wrist and arm around my neck and he jolted and grunted but still held on and --

“Hey!” was screamed at us.

The guy bolted to his feet and kicked me into the gutter and ran.

A moment later Reg appeared. “You okay, Pope?”

I looked at him, confused, but managed to grunt, “Yeah!”

He raced after the bastard.

I staggered to my feet and could just make out that Reg had reached Brompton and stopped and was looking both ways. He threw his arms up, in anger, then jogged back to me. I heard the whine of a siren approaching. Reg and the squad car reached me at the same time.

Two cops piled out, one barking, “What’s happened?”

Reg showed them his ID and said, “This man was attacked. Looked like a mugging.”

“You all right, sir?”

I checked myself. Saw no blood. A few scratches. But a nice slice through my coat. “Shit,” popped out of me. “Motherfucker ruined my suit.” And there was a hole in my case.

More cops came, Reg gave them a description in more detail than I could have -- taller than me, dressed in gym pants, jacket with a hoodie, weighing about 100 kilos. They roared off, but I didn’t expect them to find anything; the fog was getting thicker by the minute.

I was taken to a nearby police station, made a statement along the lines of, I got no idea what happened, then Reg popped me into an unmarked car and drove me back to the hotel.

It took my brain fifteen minutes to catch up to me and realize we were alone before I finally said, “What the fuck?”

Reg glanced at me. “Yeah, what was that?”

“You think it was the same guy as jumped me, the other night?”

“Could be.”

“You don’t think it was a mugging?”

“The lads do.”

“Why were you there, anyway? I thought you were on leave.”

“I am. Officially.”

Oh, shit... “Sir Monte’s got you workin’, on the sly. Tailin' me.”

He glared at me. “Boss...has me keeping an eye on you.”

“He doesn’t trust me.”

“Why should he?” he shot back. After a moment, he added, “You were in that embassy for twelve hours.”

“Prince Tafiq didn’t show up till nearly five, and you know where he was.”

“So what were you doing?”

“Buildin' trust. Gettin' info. Findin' out what I could.”

“And...?”

“I don’t think Prince Tafiq's your man.”

“Boss says you said that.”

“He was involved with Perriman for months, but all of a sudden he’s killin' men who look like him? And not just any guys, but guys who can be linked back to the embassy? Plus Tawfi’s dumb enough to leave behind DNA?”

“Toffee? He’s your sweets, is he?”

I huffed a laugh and spelled the name for him, adding, “I think he’s being set up.”

Reg glanced at me and said nothing more till we were at the hotel and he’d seen me up to my room. As I was opening my door, he said. “I dunno if I should tell you this, but...we think he was being blackmailed, your Toffee. By Perriman.”

“Why do you think that?”

“A couple big deposits were made to his checking, over the last six weeks. Routed through a dummy company owned by Kahyr.""Prince Tafiq's company..."
"Yeah. We’re wondering if the first three men were killed just to mix up Perriman’s murder. Like Agatha Christie does.”

“Jesus,” popped out of me. I actually felt ill. “But there’s some business deal goin’ on between him and The Faure Group, so this timin’ seems all off. Unless they’re the ones pullin’ something...”

“Oh, bloody hell, are you some conspiracy freak?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t think 9-11 was inside job, or that there was a second gunman at Kennedy’s assassination. But I’ve had dealings with The Faure Group and I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

“So you said. Yesterday’s conference was between them, Kahyr, and three other companies -- Seluruh Dunia, Quan Shijie and Ves’ Mir. So far just seems to be a normal partnering of people working on oil and gas exploration. Spread the costs.”

“But not the profits. Right.”

“All nice and normal.”

I shrugged and started to enter the room, then stopped. “Seluruh Dunia -- that sounds familiar.”

“Based in Singapore.”

“Griff’s wife’s from Singapore.”

“Second one, yeah. But a British expat. Her Da’s high up in the company.”

“You boys have been diggin'.”

“Same as you have. Gotta cover every corner.”

I nodded. “Come on in; let’s discuss this some more.”

Reg stayed in the hall. “After what happened last time?”

I looked at him. “I’m not gonna try anything with you.”

He shook his head, his eyes locked on me. “No.”

I stepped back out of the room and closed the door. He took a wary stance.

“Reg,” I whispered, “are there cameras in my room?”

He hesitated then said, “Just mikes.”

“Then come on in; make your report from here.”

“Why?”

“I...I just like bein' around you.”

“Why!?”

“I don’t know! But...but ridin’ with you in the car, I felt...I felt safe.”

“Well, you’re back here, now; I’d not leave, again, were I you.”

He started away, but I grabbed his jacket sleeve. “Y’know, you liked the kiss.”

He pulled away but didn’t look at me. “You got me by surprise.”

“Reg...you liked the kiss. I could feel it.”

His breathing grew faster. “What'er you up to?”

“Come back in. Let me show you...”

“What -- your candy boy wasn’t enough for you, tonight?”

“You have his apartment bugged!?”

“No! But it don’t take much to figure.”

“Well that’s not what I want, right now. I just want to be with you.”

“You wanna turn me queer, like you.”

“No!”

He shook his head, fighting himself, then backed away, whispering, “You are a devil.” Then he spun and stormed away.

I watched him get on the elevator. Watched it close. Heard it whisper away.

And I chuckled, thinking, I’ve got him.