Nobody’s Hero (Ben Koenig #2)

Chapter 85

The quickest way to verify the information was to split up Hobbs and Nash and ask them the same questions. They carried Nash, still secured to the kitchen stool, to the room Margaret wasn’t using. They put her on the bed.

It was clearly Nash’s room. It had a younger vibe than the one Margaret was resting in. Maybe too young. Like she played on being daddy’s little girl. Got what she wanted that way. There were stuffed toys on a chair and Spice Girls posters on the walls. A pair of brown Dr Martens under her dressing table. A mug with ‘Girl Power!’ written on the side. Stained with tannin. If Koenig had gone into this bedroom blind, he’d have figured it belonged to a fifteen-year-old in the nineties.

But it wasn’t all teddy bears and Baby Spice. There was also a complete set of first edition James Bond novels on a display shelf. A serious collection. And Moonraker , The Man with the Golden Gun , Goldfinger , and a couple of others had yellow spines. Probably served two purposes. The yellow would keep Hobbs out of her room. Ensured her privacy. More importantly, first edition Bonds were a shrewd investment. They were finite. A first edition Casino Royale went for over sixty thousand bucks in 2019. And unlike portable assets like gold and jewellery, books didn’t attract scrutiny at international borders. Koenig doubted an underpaid and overfed customs agent would know the difference between a highly collectible Dr No and a mass-produced Live and Let Die . Even the scholars couldn’t agree. A couple of these in her hand luggage and she’d be walking around with six figures’ worth of undeclared currency.

They returned to the living area. Draper leaned against the kitchen island. She studied Hobbs the same way a vivisectionist studies a squirrel monkey.

‘I need to tell you two things,’ she said eventually. ‘The first is that Koenig and I don’t exist. Koenig shot your daughter and I waterboarded her, but no one will look for us. We won’t have to explain our actions to anyone. Koenig’s a ghost, and I’m so well protected there’s more chance of the president having to answer for this. Do you believe me?’

Hobbs nodded.

‘The second thing is that you and Harper will need to work hard to stay alive. My default position is that I want to kill you. Now, I’m the first to admit that I’ve got a somewhat checkered past, but compared to you I’m a fucking saint. You and your daughter are monsters. I’d be doing the world a favour if the last thing I do today is open your throats with Koenig’s knife.’

This was the Jen Draper show. Koenig kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t have added anything that would have scared Hobbs any more than he already was. Draper had delivered her monologue in such a casual, singsong way that her tone didn’t match her message. But Koenig knew Hobbs believed her. Hell, he believed her. If Draper didn’t get what she needed, Hobbs would die tonight. His daughter would die tonight. And then Draper would walk away.

‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ Draper said. ‘You’re going to tell us about every job you’ve been hired to do in the last five years. Every single one. We decide if it’s relevant, not you. We’re then going to question you. And then we’re going to question your daughter. If her answers don’t match yours, you both die. You don’t get a chance to confer, you won’t be allowed to amend your answers. These are the rules of the game – do you want to play?’

‘On one condition,’ Hobbs said. ‘Harper gets immunity.’

Draper snorted. ‘This isn’t the Make-A-Wish Foundation, asshole. Five minutes after we leave, some people are going to arrive. They won’t be the cops and they won’t be feds. They won’t even tell you who they work for. You’ll be transported to a place that isn’t on any map, where you’ll be questioned under the banner of the Patriot Act. For as long as they fucking want. Unwittingly or not, you’ve threatened this country’s national security. You and your daughter are now enemy combatants. So, no, Mr Hobbs – even if you know who the Zodiac Killer is, Harper is not getting immunity.’

She said, ‘Now, why don’t you start by telling me who Jakob Tas is?’