Plague fair [Рафаэль Тигрис] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 3

the backyard.

"Do you think you could hide from me?"

Solomon took off his badge, turned it over in his hand, and, without thinking, threw it into the trash.

"Now let, the plague bitch, look for me in the garbage."

London cab pulled up in front of his raised hand.

–Where shall we go, sir? – asked the taxi driver.

–To the Tower, – called Solomon, the most popular excursion route in London.

The taxi arrived to the Tower. Solomon bought a ticket and headed to the fortress. The guide talked about the history of the Tower, about the ravens, about the prisoners, and about the jewels of the Royal dynasty. The phone was still silent and Solomon calmed down.

"So all this time she followed me through this stupid badge."

Solomon dialed Yesenia's number.

The phone was still off. He nervously tossed it into his pocket, but then the bell rang.

–Hello, Mr. Grande. Did I disturb you, sir? – Solomon recognized Spencer's voice.

–Absolutely. I'm even glad you called.

–It something the matter, sir?

–Yes, it happened. Yersinia monitoring my every step.

–Where are you now?

–On a tour of the Tower.

– Fine. After 30 minutes, go to the Royal treasury. This is the safest place in London. I'll meet you there.

–Agreed.

   Solomon entered the royal treasury with a crowd of tourists.   A huge wall was showing a movie about the coronation of the Queen of England. Then began the treasury itself. Solomon noticed the massive half-meter-thick iron doors.

"What a safe place this is,"– he thought, as he looked at the crown, which bore a huge diamond.

–Good afternoon, Mr. Grande, – someone nearby said softly.

–It's good to see you, Mr. Spencer.

–A very original place for rendezvous, isn't it, sir? – Spencer smiled, -Do not be surprised, but this is the most protected place in London. Here, every inch is carefully viewed and recorded. I know this well. I worked in the tower security service for 7 years. Now tell me, what happened to you today?

Solomon began to tell the story in order, not concealing the disappearance of Yesenia, the letters received from Yersinia, and the badge thrown into the trash.

Spencer listened carefully and said.

–To be honest, I don't see any crime, sir. Someone's stupid jokes that you take too painfully. Drive back to the conference, sir, and for God's sake, don't take it so personally.

Spencer's words calmed Solomon somewhat and he regained his peace of mind. They headed for the exit. Solomon got into a taxi and drove towards the institute.

Phone rang. The number was unfamiliar but memorable because the last digits coincided with the date of Solomon’s birth.

– Solomon, where are you? – he heard Yesenia's voice.

–Is that the same I wanted to ask you. Where did you run after my performance? And the phone is off.

– They took my mother to the hospital. She had another heart attack. I was with her the whole time. My phone has been dead since morning. I'm using the other one now. So, Solomon, where are you now?

–I was on a tour of the Tower.

–Have you gone for a walk in the Tower? In the middle of a conference!

–Yes! I understand that it's stupid. Your hasty departure and those idiotic text messages from Yersinia confused me.

–And you decided to hide in the Tower?

Together they began to laugh.

–You see, Yesenia, I lost my head without you.

–I see, Solomon, I see.

Solomon arrived at the hotel late in the evening. The day had been busy, and he was quite tired.

"I need to relax," he thought and dialed Yesenia's number.

– Hey! How Mom?

–It's okay, she's sleeping. How are you?

– Good! Can I invite you to a restaurant?

–Great idea!

– Come on, tell me in which restaurant we will spend this evening?

–Okay, wait.

Solomon even closed his eyes in anticipation of an early meeting with Yesenia. He really liked the girl. And this was despite the warnings expressed in the morning by Mr. Spencer.

"She is not capable of evil; my intuition does not deceive me," Solomon thought.

He received a message from Yesenia:

"Restaurant Sherlock Holmes. See you in an hour. "

And then there was the address.

It was already late in the evening, when Solomon left the hotel.

–Is everything all right, sir? – Mr. Spencer asked.

–More than right, – Solomon answered enthusiastically and getting into a taxi.

The clock in the hotel lobby showed noon as Spencer and security personnel stood at Solomon's door.

"Dont disturb," read the sign on the handle.

–Why isn't he answering calls? Strange. Bring the keys.

In Solomon's room, Spencer began to look around carefully. An open bed, a Jacuzzi filled with water, 2 glasses on the bedside table.

–It looks like he wasn't alone, -Spencer said, – of course! I do remember. There was a lady with a hood thrown over her head. Let's go to the monitor room! Don't touch anything here.

The guards started playing the video recordings from the previous night.

– Stop! Here it is! He leaves the room and goes down the stairs. Goes down to the basement.

–Sir, someone is leading him. Look, he has a cell phone in his hand with the screen on.

Indeed, Solomon was walking, holding a mobile phone in front of him and carefully following the image on the screen.

–Went into the basement, going to the underground sewer. He entered freely into the collector. How could this door was unlocked?

–There are more questions than answers so far. The underground collector is already out of our area of expertise. Call Scotland Yard immediately.

Half an hour later, Inspector Johnson was carefully examining Solomon's room. His assistant took fingerprints from the glasses and immediately checked them in the database.

–I'm more interested in, what your client's guest looked like? – asked the detective – let's go, Spencer, let's try to see her face.

They went down to Spencer's office.

–Here she comes with him to the hotel. Her head is covered with a hood. And now she leaves the hotel but alone. And again, the faces can not be seen even with high magnification. The lady is deliberately hiding. I wonder where he got her from? After all, he didn’t pick up it off the street, did he? You said he was a medical scientist, didn't you?

–Yes, he is a participant in a scientific conference, – Spencer replied, -and where did the client go last night? That's what we're going to find out from the cabbie. We got his number.

–Well done, good job.

–The cabbie said that he dropped his client to the "Sherlock Holmes" restaurant.

– That's great. Send an employee over there right away. Have him go through all the video recordings footage and get a picture of the lady.

   Soon the detectives had an image of Yesenia in their hands.

–I seem to remember her, – Spencer said, – let's play through the footage of the first day of the client's arrival.

–Here, look. It was she, who was with him when client checked in.

–She booked a room for him, the porter recalled.

–Who paid for the room?

–It's strange, but this is not the organizing committee of the conference. It was paid in cash by this particular lady.

–Well, well – this already smells like a planned action,– said Inspector Johnson, – the criminals needed your doctor to settle in this hotel. Why?

–Yes, because the sewer of London passes under us, and from there it is easiest to go unnoticed to the Thames. Let's go down to the basement.

The detectives put on knee-high rubber boots, put on respirators, and opened the door to the sewers.

–Normally the entrance is locked, but on this day the door was open,– Spencer said.

–Well, it's clear that someone tried in advance. It's probably from the pest control team you called the day before. Everything is professionally planned. And here is your client phone or what is left of him.

Johnson shined a flashlight on the wreckage of Solomon's phone.

–Completely broken, beyond repair. And the SIM card must have been thrown far into the Thames. Your client was kidnapped and lured here, stunned and taken away. No mobile, no peeling. What was his job?

–A major specialist in the plague.

–Wow! It smells like bioterrorism. We need to call it counterintelligence. He will soon be loaded onto a foreign ship and taken away.

–He is our client. He must be found.

–What can we do? Lots of precious time was wasted.

They returned to Spencer's office.

–So it is. A professionally planned kidnapping of a bioweapon specialist.

–Sir, here's the fingerprint data, – Johnson's deputy reported, -belonging to two different people. In the criminal file cabinet, it does not appear.

–There is