The Hunter's Prayer

If he’d woken up or if the candle had blown out, or if this was something that simply didn’t work outside the world of the cinema, then she’d really made a mess of things, because Brodsky would know that she’d tried to kill him again and this time he might not be forgiving.

Then the noise came, hard to distinguish at first, like a fighter plane somewhere in the dark sky. It took shape, declaring itself unmistakably across the city: an explosion, some kind of alarm bell filling the void as it died down. Soon there’d be sirens and she was full of nervous excitement, her heart tripping like she was on speed.

She flagged down a taxi, relieved and exhilarated as she sat in the back for the short drive to the hotel. There were other feelings lurking in there, but she smothered them because she knew she had no reason to feel bad about Brodsky or going against Lucas.

It was a life that would be on her conscience but she was happy to carry it, no less so than if she’d been an executioner, carrying out the will of the state, ridding society of those who didn’t deserve to live.

She felt confident, empowered, and then she got back to the hotel and immediately stumbled into herself, her triumphalism crumbling guiltily around her. Lucas was sitting in the lobby, clearly waiting for her, his seat positioned so that he could see anyone coming into the hotel. She waved as soon as she saw him, trying to look cheerful, like someone who’d been out seeing the city, knowing she couldn’t conceal what he half knew already.

Lucas waved back and smiled a little but by the time she reached him, he looked stern again and said, ‘Take a seat. There’s something I need to tell you.’ She sat down, still trying to look innocent. ‘I spent the evening making a few calls, looking into the information Bruno gave us. I discovered something very interesting about the ownership of Larsen Grohl.’

It took her a second or two to realize this talk was nothing to do with her visit to Brodsky. She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t mentioned it when he clearly knew she’d been there, but then she added it all up, that he hadn’t mentioned it because this was more important, whatever it was he’d found out, the ownership of Larsen Grohl.

‘Why? Who owns it?’

‘You do.’

‘What? I don’t get it.’

He nodded, his face somber as he said, ‘It’s one of your father’s companies. It means the person who murdered your family wasn’t some enemy from the past; it was someone on the inside, someone in a position to use company funds and a company account to do something like this.’

She still couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying, except that he’d been right, that someone her dad had trusted had plotted to have him killed. Someone within Larsen Grohl had used her dad’s own money to have him and his family murdered.

A siren sounded as some emergency vehicle sped past the hotel. Lucas seemed oblivious, so she said, ‘We need to speak to Simon, find out the names of all employees of Larsen Grohl, past and present, find out if any of them had grudges.’

‘It’s more straightforward than that. We just need to find out who authorized the payment.’ He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how to broach it.

‘What is it?’

‘For the time being at least, it’s probably best if you don’t speak to Simon about this.’

‘Why not?’ She answered herself, laughing as she said, ‘You don’t seriously think he had anything to do with this?’

‘He had the most to gain.’

‘You don’t know Simon. And think about it: if he did this to get his hands on the business, what about me? I’m still alive, and I have the business now. He even knows I’ve left it to him in my will, so . . . Why am I still here? If it’s him, why am I still here?’

‘Biding his time? If anything, that could explain why the threat to you disappeared: because you were too close—it would have raised suspicions. As it is, you’ve given him free rein to run the business and he can wait until the opportunity arises.’

She shook her head. ‘No, you’re wrong. I trust Simon totally.’

‘Do you?’ He stared at her quizzically, like he knew something about her that she didn’t know herself. Another piercing siren sounded and this time Lucas glanced briefly towards the lobby doors before saying, ‘So he knows about me, does he? He knows you’re here in Budapest? He knows what you’re doing?’

She didn’t respond because she knew how it looked and that she had no explanation for it. She’d wanted to keep Lucas to herself, to keep this whole business to herself, but not because she hadn’t trusted Simon. She wasn’t even sure why she’d wanted things like that except, perhaps, the belief that revenge was her responsibility, and that she hadn’t wanted it taken away from her, the only thing left that she could do for them.

Lucas seemed to notice that she was upset because he softened now and said, ‘Look, I’m not saying it’s your uncle. I’m just trying to keep you safe and prepare you for all possibilities. We’ll find out, then you can tell him. In the meanwhile, you have to make like nothing’s happened.’