Page 31 of The Impossible Fortune
Every time you met someone Elizabeth used to work with, there was something or other.
‘Sorry for the mess,’ says Jasper, taking a seat at the dining-room table. ‘My wife was always the one for visitors, I’ve never quite got the hang of it. Where are these famous photos, then?’
Elizabeth sits next to him and shows him her phone. ‘It looks real to me, but I’m not the expert, am I, Jasper?’
‘No, no,’ agrees Jasper, then looks at Joyce. ‘That’s me. I’m the expert.’
‘I wish I was an expert in something,’ says Joyce. ‘Even if it’s bombs. Do you have to keep up with all the new bombs?’
‘Keep up?’ says Jasper. ‘Umm, let me think. I do get a regular invitation to a little place on the south bank of a river; you just might have heard of it – it’s called the Thames.’
‘That’s nice,’ says Joyce. Jasper seems very jolly. ‘Yes, I have heard of it. Some lovely shops.’
‘Let’s just say that this particular shop is of the secret variety,’ says Jasper. ‘And we shall say no more on the matter. Naughty Jasper, hush my mouth.’
‘Oh, I understand,’ says Joyce. She doesn’t, but there’s no need to offend anyone.
‘He means they still let him go into MI6,’ says Elizabeth. ‘The building is on the South Bank of the Thames.’
‘I’m sorry,’ says Joyce to Jasper. ‘I didn’t pick up on that.’
Jasper waves two hands to let Joyce know it simply couldn’t matter less. ‘I pop in from time to time, see what’s what. Shouldn’t really talk about it.’
‘I’m used to it from Elizabeth,’ says Joyce. ‘You’d think no one else ever worked for a living.’
Jasper scrolls through the images.
‘What do we think?’ Elizabeth asks.
‘Oh, it’s real,’ says Jasper. ‘It’s Russian. Or Russian-made at least, not that that signifies anything. Pretty solid bit of kit, stable. It didn’t go off?’
‘Our man spotted it,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Decided to take a taxi that morning.’
‘Very wise,’ says Jasper. ‘Very wise indeed, I would say. So where’s the bomb now? May I see it? I’d love that. Have a tinker? Try not to wake the neighbours.’
‘It seems to have disappeared,’ says Elizabeth.
‘Ah,’ says Jasper. ‘A disappearing bomb. Happens, doesn’t it? Though they often make their presence known sooner or later. Ha, ha, ha. One shouldn’t joke about bombs, of course. Bombs are very serious, Joyce.’
‘Understood,’ says Joyce.
‘You’re certain it’s real?’ Elizabeth asks.
‘Who is ever certain of anything?’ Jasper asks. ‘But if it’s not real, someone has gone to a great deal of trouble to make it look real.’
‘And big enough to kill?’ Elizabeth asks. ‘Or just send a message?’
‘Big enough to kill,’ says Jasper. ‘And then some. Blow you straight through the roof still holding the steeringwheel. Send you halfway to space. Ha, ha, ha. Again, one shouldn’t joke, one shouldn’t joke.’
‘The sort of thing a connected criminal might be able to get their hands on though?’ Elizabeth asks.
‘Oh, with ease,’ says Jasper. ‘You can pick these things up online these days.’
Elizabeth’s phone starts to ring. She walks over to a corner and answers. ‘Donna, about time. What do you have on The Compound?’
Jasper looks up at Joyce. ‘I know I shouldn’t wear these trousers with this shirt, by the way. I do know that. A part of me wants to make the effort, but the other part of me … well, perhaps you know.’
‘I do know,’ says Joyce. Elizabeth still paces, listening to Donna. It occurs to Joyce that this whole thing could have been done over the phone, but Elizabeth had decided to come in person. Why was that? Is she rediscovering the thrill of the chase maybe? Good for her if she is.
