It seemed to answer the question, and for a few seconds the two of them stood saying nothing, Pearson still dressed as he had been in Randal’s photographs, minus the pale gray suit jacket now and the tie, the collar of his blue shirt open.
From the corner of his eye JJ could see the nanny fussing around children at the distant kitchen table. It was only a glance but Pearson caught it and said quickly, his tone suddenly conciliatory, “My study’s upstairs. Perhaps we can talk in there.”
“Lead the way,” JJ replied, confident he wouldn’t have any problems, and followed him up the stairs, keeping a couple of paces behind, letting the gun fall to his side rather than walk like a movie villain with it pointing at Pearson’s back.
The house was better inside, modern, simple, like it had been decorated by someone with an eye for design. Even the study avoided the traditional walnut and leather JJ had expected from the look of Pearson himself. Instead it was all light, brightly colored furnishings, a beech desk, a wooden seagull hanging from the ceiling.
JJ pointed at a small yellow sofa and waited till Pearson was sitting before perching on the edge of the desk. He was still looking around, noticing the children’s books among the others on the shelves, a teddy bear half out of sight behind the yellow sofa. Finally he made eye contact and said, “Why does Berg want me dead?”
“What are you talking about? Berg’s dead.”
“That line’s getting tiresome. Now let’s save time: I know Berg’s alive and I know he wants me dead. What I don’t know is why.”
Pearson responded, his tone clipped and harsh, “Okay, Hoffman, I won’t insult your intelligence, but kindly do me the honor of not insulting mine.” He sounded like a lawyer now as well as looking like one, a sense of gravitas about him that was as incongruous in the child-friendly surroundings as JJ with his gun. “If you place the needs of Russian Mafia factions above those of the British Government you can hardly be surprised at the outcome.”
“I don’t put anyone’s needs above anyone else’s,” JJ said, not making the more obvious objection that he had no Mafia connections.
Undeterred and combative, Pearson countered dismissively, “Of course! Your famous contractual status. But I’m afraid being a dual-nationality mercenary offers you no dispensation. You take the Queen’s shilling, you abide by the Queen’s rules. Viner knew that, you knew it, everyone connected knew it.”
JJ didn’t respond at first, confused by how certain Pearson was, and by his disdain and bloody-mindedness in the face of a gun. Then he realized that Pearson really didn’t have any idea what was going on, that he’d been fed a story and had taken it whole, choking on it, losing any sense of reason he might have had.
“You’re wrong,” JJ said eventually “Yeah, I kill people for money, but that’s all I do. I don’t deal information or play politics, I just kill the people I’m paid to kill. And Viner and the other people who worked with him ... Why would any of them have played games? What could they have gained from it that they didn’t have already ?”
Pearson’s expression changed to one of mild condescension and he said, “Taking what you say at face value, I am willing to accept the possibility of your being an unwitting pawn in Viner’s treachery, and if that really is the case then I do sympathize with your plight. But the die is cast. It’s in Berg’s hands now.”
“That’s why I intend to get to him.”
“A fanciful thought,” Pearson said, smiling, the condescension oozing like liquid around his words. “But Berg’s protection isn’t even in our hands. An overreaction in my view but, without knowing the full extent of Viner’s network, Philip thought it safer to be at a step’s remove.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, I do sympathize, as I’ve made clear, but I really don’t think I’m in a position to help you any further.”
JJ had to admire his gall or self-belief or whatever it was making him talk like that when he was the one in the position of weakness. “You seem to misunderstand something, Pearson. I didn’t come here for help, I came here to get information. And I’ll get it, because out there maybe it’s my life in danger but in here it’s yours. And, if necessary, it’s your children’s too.”
Pearson snapped back, “Leave my children out of this.” A knee-jerk response, a reaction so immediate and powerful that for a moment he looked ready to launch himself from the sofa.