‘Anal,’ was Green’s response as he walked into the bathroom.
Ryker opened the wardrobe door to reveal two suits and two shirts, pressed and hung. Underneath was a spare pair of shiny black leather shoes. Ryker left the doors open and went to the drawers, pulled each of them open. All he found were neatly folded black boxer shorts and socks. He moved back to the wardrobe and searched inside the small case that was next to the shoes. Empty. Next he went through the pockets of the suit jackets and trousers. He found a mobile phone.
‘You said Cardo had a phone on him?’ Ryker said as he took the phone out of the pocket and looked it over.
‘Yeah,’ Green said, coming out of the bathroom. ‘Why?’
Ryker held the phone up for Green to see.
‘Don’t open it,’ Green said. ‘That needs to be bagged up. Searched properly.’
‘Yeah. I know.’ Ryker tossed the phone over to Green, who caught it, then Ryker carried on his search. This time he found what he was looking for. He took out the folded piece of paper from Cardo’s suit pocket. ‘Come here.’
‘What is it?’ Green asked.
Ryker unfolded the paper and stared at the red-inked words and the symbol underneath. The message was simple; I’m coming. He held the paper out for Green to see.
‘Shit. So it really was her.’
‘Yes.’
‘And Cardo knew she was after him?’
‘Maybe he didn’t know what it meant. Or didn’t believe it was real. Either way, he never said a word. More fool him.’
‘What the hell is going on here?’
‘I’m not sure. But I know a man who might.’
‘Walker.’
‘We need to speak to him.’
‘But Munroe–’
‘Screw Munroe,’ Ryker said. ‘This time I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Green opened his mouth to speak then stopped when Ryker’s phone vibrated. Ryker took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He didn’t recognise the number. The country code was Spain.
‘Hello,’ Ryker answered with suspicion in his tone.
‘It’s Eva. Eva Kozlov,’ came the smooth voice down the crackly line.
‘This is a surprise.’
‘I need to see you.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘There’s something you need to know. About Inspector Cardo.’
Ryker only thought about the proposition for a couple of seconds. ‘Tell me where.’
CHAPTER 31
Eight years earlier
The Red Cobra walked up the steel stairs of the apartment block, her backpack tight on her shoulders. Her footfalls were barely audible, even in the thick black boots she was wearing, and despite the rickety stairs she was treading on. Moving with caution and stealth was second nature. Her breathing quickened as she assuredly ascended, though it was well within control. She was taking it easy. Always better to take your time, leave something in reserve. Just in case.
When she reached the top floor, the Red Cobra pushed open the thick metal door and exited the stairwell into the hallway. The apartments of the building – a post-war block that was in some need of modernisation – were largely occupied. Its central location in the heart of Berlin meant it remained a popular building despite its current state, particularly for early twenty-somethings with little money.
The Red Cobra approached the door to apartment 1515. With her gloved hand, she reached into a pocket and drew out a key, turned it in the lock, then pushed open the door. She would leave the tight-fitting leather gloves on as long as she was inside the apartment. No point leaving evidence.
It was dark inside. She didn’t turn on the lights, just carefully closed the door behind her. The studio had two windows to the outside world. Through them, the Red Cobra could see the glittering orange lights of the Berlin skyline, broken up by large patches of black from the nearby Tiergarten – Berlin’s largest inner city park.
The Red Cobra slid the backpack off her shoulders and moved through the bare space to the right-hand window. She kneeled onto the floor and unzipped the main pouch of the backpack. She took out a granola bar. She’d not had breakfast and she didn’t plan to eat again for a number of hours and felt like she needed the energy. Gently, she tore off the end and pulled the bar out of the packet, being careful not to break off any crumbs. Then she stuffed the empty packet in her jeans pocket before pushing the whole bar in her mouth. Cheeks bulging, she chewed.
When she was finished, she rummaged in the backpack, pulled out a water bottle, and took a swig before setting it down on the floor. Next she took out a tripod and her spotting scope. She propped the tripod in place, attached the scope, then got her sights aligned and focused on the building rising tall into the sky two hundred yards away – the Waldorf Astoria hotel.
She found the windows of the suite she was looking for and took a few seconds to make sure she was happy with the focus. The curtains in the hotel room were closed, and the lights were off. It was six a.m. and the target was still in bed. This was the third morning the Red Cobra had been here and she was beginning to notice a routine in the target’s movements.
The Red Cobra reached into the backpack to retrieve the digital camera and the coupler that enabled her to attach the camera lens to the eyepiece of the scope.
When the device was set up and ready to go, she sat and waited.
Sunrise came an hour later. The Red Cobra was awake and alert. Another hour had passed when she noticed the faintest twitch of a curtain. She turned on the camera and hit the red record button. The target’s wife opened the bedroom curtains first, then a minute later in the large lounge area.
During her two previous visits to the studio, the Red Cobra had gathered more than thirty hours of recordings that she’d transmitted over the internet to her employer. So far there had been nothing notable in the recordings she’d taken, but this was what she’d been asked to do. She knew little of whom the target was, she didn't much care. She was certain that before long her orders would change. After all, operating a digital camera and scope was hardly her main skill-set.
Three more hours passed. The target and his wife showered and dressed – he in a smart grey business suit, her in tight-fitting jeans and a blouse. Then they ate a belated breakfast in the room.
Not long after that the target’s assistant arrived together with the usual small entourage. Then the target and his crew left, leaving the wife to her own devices. She too eventually left, on her own. Perhaps another shopping trip to the nearby designer stores, the same as yesterday.