Page 29 of Licence To Howl
She jabbed him in the arm. ‘One day I’ll make you prove that.’
Fantastic. He grinned. ‘No problem.’
Chapter Twelve
Devereau plumpedup the pillows and cushions, making himself comfortable on the bed, while Scarlett ordered some coffee from room service and then went out to make a call. Greensmith’s system of only writing draft emails meant that he didn’t have to worry about any lack of security within the hotel’s wifi system but, in case Solentino had indeed managed to bug his room in the intervening hours while he’d been away, he turned on the television, ramping up the volume to cover the sounds of any typing. He read the email Greensmith had already left for him, instructing him to do whatever was necessary to find out what Solentino was up to – albeit without placing himself in any immediate danger or crossing the Italian authorities – and told him to update her on his progress as soon as he possibly could. Like the good little werewolf he was, he did just that.
CS is planning something nasty.Likely in London but he also mentioned Paris and Berlin. If I commit murder for him, he’ll allow me access to his gang which so far includes Geraint Vissier and Rospo Accetti. CS has a girlfriend called Alina Bonnet who is also involved somehow. There was another man called Mike Lancaster but he is deceased as of today. CS killed Lancaster in front of me.
CS is goingto approach a Greek named Avanopoulos who might be able to help him with some kind of transportation to Germany. From what I could gather he had someone called Bartan in the frame but he’s no longer available. Don’t know what kind of transport is required or what is being moved but it’s likely something dodgy. I don’t know how I’ll proceed but I’ve got until tomorrow morning to decide.
Devereau scanned his message.It was short but brevity was no doubt better than any long winded descriptions. He’d deliberately left out mention of who Solentino had told him to murder. He didn’t want to give Sarah Greensmith the opportunity to disappoint him. Besides, as far as his immediate MI5 boss was concerned, Scarlett was still safely tucked away in good ol’ London. He hoped that his inclusion of Lancaster’s murder would make Greensmith realise how dangerous both this situation and Solentino actually were. Devereau had no problem admitting that he was out of his depth. He knew how he’d deal with Solentino if the man were a werewolf or someone he came across in his old patch in London. But this sort of international intrigue, not to mention potential terrorism, was far out of Devereau’s realm of experience.
Leaning against the pillows, he watched the flickering images on the television with unseeing eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t going to kill Scarlett. There had to be some way to still ingratiate himself with Solentino, however, and keep Scarlett safe. Devereau’s stomach grumbled loudly and he grimaced. The laxatives were already beginning to work their dubious magic. He hesitated, waiting to see if his bowels were about to empty themselves. Apparently not yet.
The laptop screen flashed and he glanced down. Huh. Greensmith had already replied. He hadn’t been expecting to hear from her so soon but he supposed that not only was she carefully monitoring the email address, she was also stirred into action by the information he’d provided. There was nothing like the whisper of an impending attack on your own capital city to galvanise your security services into action.
Under no circumstancesare you to commit murder.
Yeah,no shit. He snorted mildly to himself.
It is imperative,however, that you find out more about CS’s plans as well as any other members of his organisation. He’s not a supe. Impress him with your werewolf abilities. Talk about your time as the Shepherd. Get him to open up to you.
She madeit sound so easy.
Doyou have any details on a possible time frame for the attack?
That wasthe one question he could answer. He quickly typed out an answer.
The earliest datewill be December 22nd.
Devereau waiteda moment or two before refreshing his screen. Greensmith didn’t waste any time responding.
CS told you that himself?
No.But it could be the only reason why Solentino was so keen to get his greasy, bloodstained mitts on the Ring of All Seasons. Legend stated that anyone who wore it on the night of the Winter Solstice would get glimpses into their future. Unless he was mistaken, that was December 21st. Assuming the legend was true, it provided the perfect failsafe mechanism for anyone considering an elaborate plan of action that might involve death or life imprisonment if it went badly. Solentino wasn’t planning a suicide mission. He wasn’t the type. There was no doubt in Devereau’s mind that Solentino wanted the ring as a rubber stamp to prove his impending action would work. If the ring showed him a future he didn’t like, he could cancel everything with no harm done. Although admittedly that would also create some sort of bizarre time travel, future proofing conundrum of the type that made Devereau’s head hurt if he thought about it too much. If you could see into the future, could you then change that future? Or was it already immutable? He doubted the merits of getting into that sort of discussion with Sarah Greensmith, however, and opted for a simpler answer.
I workedit out from other things he’s said.
There.That ought to be enough.
This timeit took Greensmith longer to answer. When she did, her instructions were terse and to the point but without any sort of helpful advice that he could actually use.
Get CS to trust you.Find out exactly what he’s planning. I’ll expect another update within twenty-four hours.
Devereau waitedbut nothing else was forthcoming. Eventually, he sighed audibly, massaged the back of his neck, and closed the laptop. The only good thing about any of this was that Christopher Solentino wasn’t nearly as smart as he believed himself to be. Devereau certainly possessed the will to get the man to trust him. Now he only had to find the way.
* * *
By the timeScarlett finally returned, the coffee which had arrived via room service was cold. She seemed unperturbed by its temperature, downing it in several uninterrupted gulps before smacking her lips. When she caught Devereau staring at her, she shrugged.
‘What? I needed something to get the taste of that woman’s blood out of my mouth.’
‘You didn’t like how she tasted?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t like how I was all but forced to drink from her,’ Scarlett replied. ‘I’m not a performing seal.’
Devereau opened his mouth to warn her against saying anything else, in case somebody really was listening in to what they were saying. Scarlett was already one step ahead of him, however. She pulled a long narrow wand device out of her bag. ‘This is what took me so long.’
