Ethan Justice: Origins

12: Saturday 24th September, 22:15

JOHN AND SAVANNAH debated their next move in the soft-cushioned, mahogany-legged chairs in the sitting area of their suite at the Ritz hotel.

John was amazed that Savannah hadn't headed straight for the hills. In fact, she seemed almost pleased that his best friend was dead, as it proved that John wasn't in need of professional help. Her reaction to the reality of John's predicament had given him a much needed dose of testosterone and convinced him to take the trip to Waterloo alone. What sort of man would drag an already troubled girl into even greater danger?

"Look it's just three stops on the Bakerloo line. You stay here and enjoy your bath and I'll be back before you know it."

"Or dead more likely." Savannah threw her arms up. "You've got no idea who could be waiting there."

"Nobody knows that I have this ticket. Knowledge of its existence probably died with Mark. Mark wanted me to have whatever is at Waterloo Station."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Of course not, he was dead, but his arm was outstretched like he wanted to give me something."

"Maybe he wanted to give it to someone else. Besides, they said he killed himself so why didn't he just leave you a note?"

John leaned back on two legs of the chair, which emitted an unhappy groan in complaint. He sat forward again before anything snapped. She must understand. She didn't have to come with him, but he still needed her support.

"Mark had a letter opener in his head and a dagger in his back. How can that have been suicide? Somebody has either messed with the evidence or the police have issued a lie to keep the lid on this thing."

"What thing?"

"I have no idea."

"Did you have any idea what Mark was mixed up in?"

"He was a financial wizard of some sort, trading in risky stocks and so forth."

"Have you ever been to his office?"

"No, he worked mainly from home."

"Did he talk about his work?"

"No, never."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"Listen, I know what you're driving at but we've been best friends since school and if he was selling weapons I'm sure I'd have suspected something. Christ we told each other everything. He would have told me."

"Even if it put your life at risk?"

"Shit, shit, shit. I don't bloody well know any more. All I do know is that he knew I was outside when he was being murdered and he wanted me to find the note."

"All right," Savannah said.

"All right what?"

Savannah stood up and slid out of her new dress a few feet away from John.

John's eyes opened wide and his mouth opened wider. She looked soft and smooth and clean and beautiful, despite everything she had been through. John struggled to speak.

"I'm not ... sure ... we've got time for that," he said.

"It's got to beat being raped up the bum by filthy Arabs," she said walking over to the bed with great purpose in her stride.

"Well ... I don't know what to say." John stood up and made tentative steps towards the bed. "I'd certainly hope so."

"Well come on then slowcoach." John looked to the tall ceiling and mouthed 'thank you' when out of nowhere his jeans hit him full in the face. Savannah was retrieving her old clothes from the other Harrods bag. She slid a lithe leg into her jeans. "I'm not letting you get killed alone. Hurry up and get changed."