The Signal (Delphi Group #1)

by John Sneeden

RUPERT STERLING WALKED through the heavy London snow. His face was set with purpose, and his breath formed billowing clouds that dissipated in the darkness. He glanced up at a street lamp and noticed the flakes swirling around it like white moths.

The Victoria Embankment, which runs along the north side of the Thames, was crowded that night. The snow was the first of the season, and there was excitement in the air. Loud tourists made their way toward Westminster and the historic sites. Locals, usually on their way home after work, swarmed to the local pubs to celebrate winter’s gift.

The old spot didn’t need to be defined. Ian and Rupert had worked together in the early nineties. Ian was an intense workaholic American and Rupert an extroverted free spirit who brought out the fun side of his Yank friend. Having hit it off, the two had spent many evenings together in their favorite pub.

The text had come as a complete surprise. Rupert had replied but received no response. Whatever his friend was going to say, it would not be said until Friday. The sidewalk angled uphill and turned to the left, indicating he was almost there. Rupert lowered his head and quickened his pace.

The Shakespeare was one of London’s most beautiful historic pubs. Nestled just two blocks off the Thames in the City district, it had served patrons for over a century. The interior celebrated England’s famous poet, with reliefs of his head and plaques of his writing scattered throughout.

He looked around for any sign of Ian. To his immediate left was a table of American tourists. One of the women hoisted a mug into the air, using a faux-British accent to declare her approval of the pale ale. To Rupert’s right were a man and woman dressed in business attire. The man held a glass of wine in one hand and leaned awkwardly into the woman, talking with slurred speech.

It didn’t surprise Rupert that Ian was not in the front. If he had suggested a meeting at their old spot, he would be at their favorite table.

Rupert pushed his way through the crowd toward the double archway at the back. He had never seen the pub this full. People were pressed together, and the smell of beer hung in the air. After passing through the wooden arch, he looked toward the table in the right corner: their table. His first reaction to the bearded man seated...

Rupert held out a hand, but his friend hugged him instead. It had been too long for a simple handshake. After several long seconds, Ian finally pulled back and gestured toward the table. “Have a seat, mate. There are some things I need to tell you.”

On a slow night, the man sitting on a stool in the back room of the Shakespeare would have stood out. Unlike most of the patrons, he was alone, and his demeanor made it all too clear that he wanted to remain that way. Only server Vanessa Wells seemed to notice the man’s dark countenance. In fact, she would later tell police that she was uncomfortable in his presence.

He scarcely paid attention as Vanessa Wells handed him his second beer. This would be his last, a self-imposed limit when on the job. The German never broke his own long set of rules. They kept him alive.

As his gaze returned to the table across the room, his body tensed. The target had a guest. The German watched as the two hugged, exchanged words, then sat down. He smiled. Everything was falling into place.

Rupert leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Surely you’re joking. That’s all you can tell me?”

Ian took a sip of beer before answering. “I’m afraid so. At least for now.” “So, you took a job in Switzerland because it paid well, only to find out the people you worked for were involved in bad things. But you can’t tell me who these people were or what they were doing?”

There was another long pause before Ian answered. “First of all, I’ve missed you. Other than Amanda, there are very few people I care about more than you. And second…” He swept his gaze around the room then lowered his voice. “Second, I wanted you to know in case something should happen to me.”

“In case something should happen to you? Why not go to the authorities?” “I am going to the authorities, just not now.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t come over until tomorrow. I have another meeting tonight, one that may last a while. I think it will help me get some of the answers I’m looking for.” “Who is it?”

“Does Amanda know you’re in Britain?” asked Rupert. Amanda was Ian’s life, the only light from a failed marriage. Seeing her was first on his agenda when he returned home.

“She knows I quit my job, and she knows I might be coming to see you.” “Where is she now?” “She’s on a dig in Israel, but she'll be returning to the States in two weeks.”

After the server left the ticket, Ian stood, put on his coat, and dropped a few bills on the table. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” “You’d better.” Ian sm...

The traffic had lightened considerably, and the previously crowded sidewalks were deserted. Ian wondered how hard it would be to find a cab. As he stood there, his thoughts turned back to Rupert. He hated keeping his friend in the dark, and he understood his irritation. But he also had no regrets about holding things close to the vest. The less his friends knew, the safer they would be.