Page 31 of Master Class

Clarissa blinked. “It’s his personal phone,” she said. “He had it in his pocket. He took the photos of me in the penthouse on his private cell.”

“So…?”

“So I’ll call him just before the meeting. The burner phone only has one number programmed into it – his personal number. If he answers, it will mean that he has his phone on him when I meet with him.”

“So?” Edge’s frown deepened.

“So I’ll steal it from out of his pocket,” she said.

“How?”

Clarissa looked embarrassed and ashamed. “My parents died when I was a teenager, and I turned into a wild-child for a few months before my grandfather finally drummed some sense into me. While I was on the streets, I got arrested on a pickpocketing charge.”

“You got caught pickpocketing?”

“Yes. Once. But not the other thousand times I did it,” she smiled.

Clarissa was trembling with nerves and apprehension. Her hand holding the phone shook like she was in the grips of a dreadful fever. Edge sat across the desk from her, and smiled reassuringly.

“Do it,” he said. “Make the call, but remember the plan.”

Clarissa pressed the key to dial the Congressman’s pre-programmed number.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Clarissa said softly.

“And…?”

“We did it,” she said.

Congressman Jansing’s voice suddenly became tight with interest. “Edge fucked you?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In his office.”

“Perfect!” Jansing’s voice leapt with his elation. “Did you get photos?”

“No.” She paused just long enough to sense the Congressman’s malicious glee begin to turn to rage, and then went on. “I got something even better. I recorded it as a video.”

There was a long moment of stunned heavy silence. Clarissa could feel herself sweating. She heard Jansing moving about, as if he were searching for a more secure location from which to speak. When she heard his voice again it was whispered and conspiratorial. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I recorded everything.”

“Does Edge suspect anything?”

“No.”

Clarissa flicked her eyes across the desk. She wasn’t sure whether Nick Edge could hear the conversation. His face was set in stone. She couldn’t read his expression.

“Where are you now?” Jansing demanded.

“I’m in another room of the house.”

“Where is Edge?”

“He’s still in his office.”

“And you’re sure he doesn’t suspect anything?”

“I’m certain,” Clarissa said. “I hid the phone between some files on his desk.”

There was another long pause. Clarissa licked her lips. Her mouth felt dry. She let out a tremulous little breath and crossed her legs.

“Meet me,” Jansing demanded. “Right now.”

“No,” Clarissa’s voice rose a little in alarm even though she had been prepared for this eventuality before making the call. “It’s too late, and I’m too tired. I’ll meet you tomorrow night.”

Jansing clamped his lips tight. He thought quickly. If he threatened the girl again, she might destroy the evidence. Reluctantly, he decided he could wait twenty-four hours. A day wouldn’t make a difference to Nick Edge’s ultimate demise.

“Fine,” Jansing growled. “Tomorrow night. 8 pm. Meet me in the same alley as last time.”

“The alley?” Clarissa repeated, and flashed a triumphant smile of confirmation to Edge. “Okay. I’ll be there at eight.”

Chapter 15:

Clarissa didn’t arrive for volunteer work the next morning. Instead she caught a cab directly to Edge’s house. In the afternoon they went shopping. Clarissa bought a black wig and a short black skirt.

Edge bought a new phone.

When they arrived back at the big house the sun was warm, and the air was alive with the sounds of birds. Clarissa ventured out onto the back lawns of the property, feeling the lush green grass between her toes as she strolled through the gardens. She was tight with nerves and anxiety. She phoned her grandfather and spoke to him briefly. The old man’s voice was upbeat and carefree – but Clarissa knew him well enough to see through the charade. The weeks of crisis had aged her grandfather and deadened the sound of his voice.

When she ended the call, she saw Edge limping towards her. He had his own phone to his ear, talking quietly as he walked. He hung up just as he reached her.

“You okay?”

“I’m nervous.”

“The waiting before an operation is always the worst part.”

Clarissa nodded. “I thought going for a walk would relax me,” she had the warm sun on her back. The bright light filtered through the stuff of her skirt to highlight the long fine lines of her legs.

Edge nodded. He had a small parcel in his hand.

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