The cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 39

I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Chasing leads, maybe

…

Sometimes the best-laid plans worked out, but today it was as if the Gods were trying to ruin my day.  Earlier days this week had been getting darkish between three and four, but today it was a little later.

It meant we had to spend a little more quality time together before we embarked on some breaking and entering.

Of course, it might have helped if I’d told her what I was intending to do before I brought her along for the ride, but it was exactly for that reason I did because if she didn’t like the idea, there would be little option to change he mind.

But the initial displeasure was expected.

“Breaking and entering is not exactly how I envisioned my first few days on the job market.”

“You learned all of the requisite skills in training.  I know, I was your partner in crime more than once.”

And that was a question I had once told myself I’d ask her if I ever ran into her again outside of work.

Which I did now.  “Why was that?”

At a guess, it had to be because I knew what I was doing whereas the other men were more like blunt instruments.  They’d taught us the finesse in breaking into a wide variety of entrances, but they seemed to like and use bashing the door in.

“I knew I had a better chance of success if I stuck with you.”

“What about Yolanda?”

She was another woman I had put into the same category as Jennifer, she was possessed of a calm demeanor in a crisis, and actually took the time to lean the subtitles of her tradecraft.  I had been disappointed when she didn’t make the final cut, though I suspect there was more to her ‘failing’ than met the eye.

And, I never got to find out the real reason.

I had liked her and had thought the feelings were mutual, but after she left, I’d not heard from her again.  I guess I could have tried to reach out, and might still do if this ever came to an end where I didn’t finish up dead.

“She was never going to stick the distance.  I got the impression she wasn’t happy about one of the others making life uncomfortable for her.”

“Student or instructor?”

Interesting she should say that because I had thought there was something going on between her and Maury, and when I asked her she didn’t deign to answer.

“Both.  She considered it was best just to leave.”

Which apparently, she did.

But, back to our current problem.  “All I need you to do is have my back.  I’ll go in, see if he is there, or anyone else, and if the coast is clear, we’ll search the place and leave.  No need to be there one second longer than we have to be.”

But I will; be disappointed if the USB is not there.

“That means we have about an hour to kill,” she said.

Which is why I decided to stop off at a traditional English pub and have an early dinner of bangers and mash.  I was not sure why it just appealed to me.  I’d feel so much better breaking in with a full stomach.

And a mobile phone with the sound turned off.

…

© Charles Heath 2020

First Dig Two Graves – the editor’s final draft – Day 5

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

…

Talk about rescue missions gone wrong.

John is not very good at this, though who’s to say Sebastian isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

So, tossed in a basement awaiting his fate, who should he discover: Zoe

Mission accomplished.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished as she tears strips off him for being a fool, firstly to come after her, and second, for trusting Sebastian.

But, they’ve been in tighter scrapes before, and the fun is just about to begin.

After a few minutes of catching up!

And, no doubt, Sebastian is somewhere near plotting his own operation to fix up the first operation.

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

…

Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

…

First Dig Two Graves – the editor’s final draft – Day 5

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

…

Talk about rescue missions gone wrong.

John is not very good at this, though who’s to say Sebastian isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

So, tossed in a basement awaiting his fate, who should he discover: Zoe

Mission accomplished.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished as she tears strips off him for being a fool, firstly to come after her, and second, for trusting Sebastian.

But, they’ve been in tighter scrapes before, and the fun is just about to begin.

After a few minutes of catching up!

And, no doubt, Sebastian is somewhere near plotting his own operation to fix up the first operation.

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 52

A visit to Heidi’s mother-in-law

…

I had intended to go to the Burkehardt residence with Ceceila as backup, but that would have left Francesca to her own devices, which to me would have been to turn up at the residence unannounced.

If Francesca had wanted to leave, Cecelia would let her, and it would not surprise me if she either let her bosses know how things were going, especially in relation to Juliet, and that they would want Francesca to find her.  The other possibility, is that Francesca was on her way, or already at the residence making herself known on behalf of her employers.

That I was wrong on all counts when I rang Cecelia to see if she had left, was disconcerting.  It meant another game was in play.  I was sure she had reported to her employers by now, and that they had asked her to impede us at every turn.  It just made it harder to guess why Francesca was with us.

I was stopped at the gate to the main Burkehardt residence by guards, who, I deduced from their dismissive manner, had been instructed to turn everyone away.  I asked them to tell the Mistress that I had information on the Countess Heidi von Burkehart’s whereabouts and then waited ten minutes before the gates magically opened.

If Alessandro was there, I would have some explaining to do.

I parked the car on the gravel outside the front portico and walked up the stairs to the front entrance.  The doors were open and a man in a morning suit was waiting for me.  I’d give the gate my Detective Inspector’s name, without the Detective Inspector prefix.

“Come this way.”

It was all he said.

I followed him through to a large room off the side of the entrance hall, what looked like a library, with several full-size suits of armour.

The older Countess was waiting for me at the front of her desk.

“Mr. Johnson, though I’m sure that bears no resemblance to your real name, and Detective Inspector you definitely are not.”

“I assure you I am, but it’s just one of my jobs.  Like I told your son Alessandro back in London, they only call me when it looks like the jurisdiction is about to change.”

“You have no authority here.”

“True, but like I said, they call me in when that happens.  My other self is the one with no borders, nor do I care about jurisdiction.  I come, solve the problem, and then go.  I am only interested in the wellbeing of the Countess Heidi.  Don’t make this into more than it is.”

“Security said you were going to be a pain, as did the people I employed to find the countess.  Perhaps I should fire them and employ you instead.”  She went behind her desk and sat down.

I sat in a chair to one side of the desk.

“It won’t do you much good to try.  I’m not doing this for the money.  I’m supposed to be retired, but I have an old boss who won’t let me go.”

“Rodby, yes.  His wife is the sister of the countess.  Fancy having a direct connection to a spy organisation.  I only just found that out but I’m sure you knew that.  I presume your other self is a spy?”

“I wish.  The suits, the cars, the toys.”  I shook my head.  “Nothing quite as glamorous, I can assure you.  And I only just discovered the Heidi connection too.  One of the drawbacks, we don’t always get the whole story.”  A bit too much sharing, but it was more to disarm the old lady, who looked to me still had some fire and brimstone in reserve.

“You said you have information about the countess?”

“I do.  But before I tell you, I need to know is there anyone you have managed to make angry, or you have caused problems for, or who wants to buy this enterprise, perhaps with prejudice?”

She gave me a look that was surprise or contempt before she summoned her best angry tone to say, “That’s absurd.”

It meant one of the three suggestions was right.

“You run a very profitable and well-respected operation here.  It no doubt creates rivalry with others in the same line of business who are not as well run, perhaps.”

It had to be a business rival.  The most recent information from the research team mentioned that there were several suitors for the business after the Count died, but no one specific. 

I could see her expression soften, that it was a problem she wanted to resolve herself, but it was not working out.  Alessandro had tried and failed to make it seem like business as usual, but a ship without a rudder soon foundered.  The uncertainty about the successor to the count had created uncertainty in the investors.

“There is one person, though I’m not sure he qualifies as aggressive but he is incompetent.  Alberto Dicostini.  The count and he were friends and business partners until Dicostini stole from the business.  After that, they became bitter rivals.  I am sure it is he who killed my husband, and later my son, the count.  It is why my sons and daughter have such security.  He had vowed to kill us all.  He will fail, as he always does.”

And there was a possible solution to the problem.  It was possible that it was Dicostini behind the fake countess, and if he presented her as the countess and she inherited, that what is hers would become his.  It’s almost foolproof.  The fake would have to pass the keen eyes of the Burkehardt family.  I’d seen the fake, but I hadn’t known the real one.

“You are vehemently opposed to the countess inheriting are you not?”

“She is an incompetent fool.”

“But a member of this family, and if she was to inherit, would she keep it in the family?”

“You’d think so, but a friend told me she was going to sell it, maybe not to Dicostini, but it will have the same effect.  He will get what he wants.”

“Have you tried to convince her to do the right thing.  As far as I can tell, she is the lawful heir.”

“There is another.”

“Which your investigators told you about?”

“How do you know this?”

“I have one of them with me.  Not here now, but back in Sorrento.  That might not necessarily be the case.  I’m beginning to believe that she is not a legitimate heir.  I suspect that Vittoria Remano, as she calls herself these days, did have a child, but not by the Count.  And although the count said he fathered a child, I believe he never got to see anything but photos, nor living proof, just the word of a maid.”

“And the birth certificate?”

“Did you get you investigators the check it?’

“I assumed they did.”

“Then they’ve got two days before I bring the three women to the solicitor’s office for the signing.  One of them will be a woman claiming to be the countess.”

“So, you know where she is?”

I sighed.  “You’re not listening to me.”

She paused for a moment as if to go over our conversation.  Then, “You’re saying the woman you have is not the countess?”

“I’m saying I don’t know, but if it was the real countess, who was kidnapped with Mrs Rodby, why is Mrs Rodby still missing?”

© Charles Heath 2023

The cinema of my dreams – I never wanted to go to Africa – Episode 6

…

Locked up with nowhere to go

…

It looked like a military camp, but the soldiers were not like my captor. They were as I had expected, of foreign origin. The woman driving the pickup was American, and also the last person I’d expect to see in what was quite obviously a military camp.

The pickup stopped with the brakes squealing outside a large wooden building covered in camouflage netting. The man sitting next to me got up, jumped off the end of the vehicle. The woman got out, they exchanged words in quiet voices I could not hear properly, then she walked away.

He walked down the side of the vehicle hitting the metal side quite hard. To wake me up, perhaps.

“Get down Mr. James. I’m not buying the jelly legs anymore.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t been pretending when they picked me up but maybe he knew my condition better than I did. I didn’t think it was worth annoying him.

I slid to the end of the well and dangled my legs over the side then slipped slowly till my feet touched the ground. Aches and pains in my ankles and knees, but they would hold me up.

Time to move on.

He stood beside me. “This way.”

As I surmised, we went into the wooden building, down a narrow passageway for a distance, and, judging by the gentle downward slope and the temperature drop, we were either going into a cave or underground.

A minute, two, then he stopped and opened a door. “Inside.”

I took a deep breath and stepped into the room, expecting to be either shot or worse.

But it was nothing like that. It was just an empty room with a camp stretcher.

The man put his head in the doorway. “Get some rest, Mr. James.”

The door swung shut and I heard the key turn in the lock. This was not a room that could readily be escaped from.

…

© Charles Heath 2019-2021

The cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 38

I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Chasing leads, maybe

…

I’d expected more questions from her, but the ride in the train to Wimbledon, and then to the car, she had very little to say.  There was no doubt she was intrigued by the offer, but there was some trepidation too.

But it didn’t auger well for her longevity if she trusted people this easily.  I had expected a lot more questions if only to find out what the job was.  

Then, by the time we reached my car, it seemed she had time enough to think about everything.

“How do I know you’re not going to kill me too?”

She was standing on the other side of the car, yet to open the door.  I was about to get in.

I looked at her across the roof.

“I could have done that ages Ago if that was my intention.”

“Not in a public space unless absolutely necessary.”

She was quoting the manual.

“So, I’m about to take you to a quiet spot in the country and shoot you?”

“Unlikely.  You don’t have a gun with you.”

“A knife then?”

“I’m sure you don’t have one of those either.  Besides, there’s a few other ways that don’t require weapons.”

I was astonished this was the conversation.

“I asked for your help, and that wasn’t to practice my killing skills.  But, where we’re going that might happen to either of us.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a residence in Peaslake.  Do you know of it?  It’s about an hour away, southwest, I think.  I’m not expecting to find anyone, but I am looking for a USB drive.”

“This O’Connell character’s?”

“Yes.”

A few seconds passed as she took that in, then, “If you are not expecting anyone to be there, why do you need me?”

“Rule whatever number it was, expect the unexpected.  And get back up if it’s available.  And there are other people looking for these documents, and the USB.  Not friendly people I might add.  I have no idea if they have the same information I have, so I’m expecting the unexpected.  We have worked together and you know me.”

We had performed several assignments together for training purposes, as each of us had with the other four.  She hadn’t been the best, but she hadn’t been the worst.

I saw her shrug.  Acceptance?

She opened the door and got in.

It took me 15 minutes to get to the A3 and head towards Guildford.

A few minutes later she asked, “What the hell did we sign up for?”

“What do you mean?  I thought it was pretty straight forward.  Something other than a dull as ditchwater 9 to 5 job behind a desk.”

“I mean, don’t you think it’s odd we do all of this stuff for 6 months, almost to the day, then get an assignment, and it all goes wrong.”

“That our instructors were frauds?”

“We didn’t know that, and apparently they didn’t either.  Do you know if any of it was real?”

“Seemed to me it was.  And we only have this Monica’s word that Severin and Maury are frauds.  I mean, I was surprised to learn they allegedly didn’t exist, but you and I both know that in organizations like the security services have wheels within wheels, departments unknown to other departments, event MI5 or the police, so who’s to say what really happened.”

“And you say you now work for this character Dobbin, whose another department head.  As is this Monica.”

Put like that, it seemed very confusing.

“There are others that I’ve run into, working for both Dobbin and for Severin.”

“You mean Severin is still out there?”

“Yes.  He tracked me down.”

And when I said it out loud, it crossed my mind why he hadn’t come after her, but the answer to that was he might have thought I was the only one that O’Connell hadn’t killed.

“And he thinks you are still working for him?”

“It’s complicated.  I’m kind of doing a soft shoe shuffle around all of them and trying to find out what the hell is going on while keeping them at arm’s length.  That might go horribly wrong which is also a good reason why I need help.  We really should find out what we got into.”

“I’d prefer not to.  He hasn’t come after me.”

“He will.  It’s only a matter of time.  You’re in the system, and I have no doubt he has access to that system.  You’ve just been lucky so far.  And you equally know as I do, there’s no such thing as luck in our line of work.”

Another minute or so passed.

Then she said, “If you’re trying to scare the hell out of me, it’s working.”

…

© Charles Heath 2020

First Dig Two Graves – the editor’s final draft – Day 4

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

…

John’s search for Zoe was at an impasse, simply because it was her job to disappear and reappear at will, and he knows he was no match for her in that regard.

So, having gone to her residence in Paris, not finding her there which was predictable, the place looked like it had not been visited in months, he concluded a short stay might help to clear his head.

Until he gets a phone call.

Kidnappers, other than the Russians, have captured Zoe, and they’re ringing him for a ransom.

Odd, because he was not the one who placed the kidnap order on her, so why would they be ringing him?

This was initiated by Zoe, no doubt playing the kidnapper by sending him to a bigger payday.

If that’s the case then John has to deduce she has faith in him to come and get her.

Which he’s going to do, but not on his own.

It’s time to call Sebastian, someone John knew would know what to do.

Or at least hope he does!

An excerpt from “If Only” – a work in progress

Investigation of crimes doesn’t always go according to plan, nor does the perpetrator get either found or punished.

That was particularly true in my case.  The murderer was incredibly careful in not leaving any evidence behind, to the extent that the police could not rule out whether it was a male or a female.

At one stage the police thought I had murdered my own wife though how I could be on a train at the time of the murder was beyond me.  I had witnesses and a cast-iron alibi.

The officer in charge was Detective First Grade Gabrielle Walters.  She came to me on the day after the murder seeking answers to the usual questions like, when was the last time you saw your wife, did you argue, the neighbors reckon there were heated discussions the day before.

Routine was the word she used.

Her fellow detective was a surly piece of work whose intention was to get answers or, more likely, a confession by any or all means possible.  I could sense the raging violence within him.  Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

Over the course of the next few weeks, once I’d been cleared of committing the crime, Gabrielle made a point of keeping me informed of the progress.

After three months the updates were more sporadic, and when, for lack of progress, it became a cold case, communication ceased.

But it was not the last I saw of Gabrielle.

The shock of finding Vanessa was more devastating than the fact she was now gone, and those images lived on in the same nightmare that came to visit me every night when I closed my eyes.

For months I was barely functioning, to the extent I had all but lost my job, and quite a few friends, particularly those who were more attached to Vanessa rather than me.

They didn’t understand how it could affect me so much, and since it had not happened to them, my tart replies of ‘you wouldn’t understand’ were met with equally short retorts.  Some questioned my sanity, even, for a time, so did I.

No one, it seemed, could understand what it was like, no one except Gabrielle.

She was by her own admission, damaged goods, having been the victim of a similar incident, a boyfriend who turned out to be an awfully bad boy.  Her story varied only in she had been made to witness his execution.  Her nightmare, in reliving that moment in time, was how she was still alive and, to this day, had no idea why she’d been spared.

It was a story she told me one night, some months after the investigation had been scaled down.  I was still looking for the bottom of a bottle and an emotional mess.  Perhaps it struck a resonance with her; she’d been there and managed to come out the other side.

What happened become our secret, a once-only night together that meant a great deal to me, and by mutual agreement, it was not spoken of again.  It was as if she knew exactly what was required to set me on the path to recovery.

And it had.

Since then, we saw each about once a month in a cafe.   I had been surprised to hear from her again shortly after that eventful night when she called to set it up, ostensibly for her to provide me with any updates on the case, but perhaps we had, after that unspoken night, formed a closer bond than either of us wanted to admit.

We generally talked for hours over wine, then dinner and coffee.  It took a while for me to realize that all she had was her work, personal relationships were nigh on impossible in a job that left little or no spare time for anything else.

She’d always said that if I had any questions or problems about the case, or if there was anything that might come to me that might be relevant, even after all this time, all I had to do was call her.

I wondered if this text message was in that category.  I was certain it would interest the police and I had no doubt they could trace the message’s origin, but there was that tiny degree of doubt, about whether or not I could trust her to tell me what the message meant.

I reached for the phone then put it back down again.  I’d think about it and decide tomorrow.

© Charles Heath 2018-2020

First Dig Two Graves – the editor’s final draft – Day 3

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the final revision.

…

OK. So the story is about Alistair’s mother seeking revenge on Zoe for killing her son.

She’s not the only one.

Zoe is or was an assassin. She had a substantial number of kills to her credit, she doesn’t share numbers so we won’t find out exactly how many, and there are others who seek revenge too.

One is co-incidentally, the head of the intelligence service John’s friend Sebastian works for, a man by the name of Worthington, who had a twin brother whom she killed by mistake.

He has been using his position in intelligence to track the woman who executed his brother for some time, and being in Venice at the time of the Alistair affair, catches sight of Zoe recovering in a hospital after requesting to meet Sebastian’s newest recruit.

Of course, Sebastian is playing fast and loose with the truth, as always, but the damage is done.

Zoe aka Mary Anne aka Chantal is not being hunted by three different people and has just had a bounty put on her head guaranteeing even more people searching for her.

All while heading to a meeting in Marseilles about a freelance hit.