Page 47 of The Spy Who Tamed Me

The scuba gear he’d set in place earlier was still there. Less than thirty seconds later they were two feet underwater and swimming away from the blaze. Jared kept them close to the side of the canal and brought them to the surface beneath the shadows of the nearest bridge. He wanted to see that okay sign.

The kid was like an eel in the water, and when Jared gave him the sign the kid nodded vigorously, wrapped an arm around his neck and signalled right back.

So under they went again.

Two more times they surfaced, and soon enough came upon a row of houseboat hulls. Jared started counting them off. Six—and then a sharp right into an adjoining canal.

They were halfway through the turn when another boom sounded—a boom that shook the water. That didn’t bode well. Forward progress suddenly became a whole lot more difficult, with water flowing swiftly in the opposite direction, and Jared clung with all his strength to the canal wall.

That secondary explosion was neither his nor Damon’s doing.

Something to worry about.

Their last crawl along the side of the houseboat hulls took as much time as the rest of the swim put together, but eventually they surfaced again. Every muscle in Jared’s arms and shoulders was screaming with the weight of Celik and the drag of the water.

This time they’d surfaced next to a ladder that was half hidden between a houseboat and the canal wall. Jared wasted no time in getting the scuba gear off them and sending Celik up the ladder first.

‘There’s a towel waiting for you. Grab it and get warm.’

Moments later they were in the bowels of a comfortably shabby tourist houseboat and Jared was turning lights on.

‘Are we good?’

Celik nodded, his eyes bright and his hair sticking up in tufts. ‘Did we lose them? The bad men?’

‘Yes. Jump in the shower and get warmed up while I put some soup on. Then I’m going to tell you a story about a little boy who never knew he had an aunt. An aunt who loved him very much, even though they’d never met. An aunt who wanted nothing more than to meet this little boy named Celik and help him to grow up healthy and happy and strong. Do you like the sound of that story?

Celik nodded.

‘Good. Because next time I tell it I’m going to add speedboats, aeroplanes, sleepy mice and penguins.’

Rowan stood in front of the stern-faced grey-eyed man and stared down at a picture of what had once been an elegant Amsterdam canal house and was now little more than a pile of rubble, courtesy of some kind of explosion or bomb. The owner of the house—one Cerise Fallon—had not been injured in the explosion, but according to her there had been two others in the house at the time of the incident. A client, whose details had been lost along with her phone, and her seven-year-old son.

The next picture in the pile showed a picture of a beautiful woman standing in darkness, staring up at her burning house, her face lit by the nearby flames. Her tears looked convincing.

‘Two days ago you asked me if you could brief Jared West on a situation involving Antonov’s son,’ said Rowan’s boss. ‘Know anything about this?’

‘No, sir. I know nothing about this.’

‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘I never briefed Jared. I haven’t been able to get hold of him. Have they found any bodies yet? Her son? The body of the client?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Then how do we know this isn’t something that the Dutch authorities set up in order to spirit the child away? With the mother’s full co-operation?’

‘We don’t.’

‘Do we know what caused the explosion?’

‘From what we can gather a boat caught fire outside the house. And then someone shot a grenade into a first-floor window. There’s a Dutch forensics and recovery team working on it now.’

‘A grenade?’ Rowan winced.

‘Was it West?’ he asked again.

‘I don’t know.’ Nothing but the truth.

‘You said you hadn’t been able to contact him. How many times did you try?’

‘I called his number immediately after I spoke to you about the case two days ago. My assistant has been trying to get hold of him ever since.’

‘And your inability to reach him didn’t make you suspicious?’

‘He’s just bought a yacht. I thought—’ Rowan stopped. There was no point continuing.

‘You presumed?’

‘Yes, sir, I presumed to know where he was.’

‘Get him in here, Director. Preferably tonight. Make me believe that Jared West had nothing to do with this.’

‘Yes, sir, I’ll try.’

When Rowan still couldn’t raise Jared she called his sister.

‘Rowan!’

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