In the Evil Day Read Online Free

colour came into it.
    ‘Raise it to the skies.’
    Brinkman looked around for eavesdroppers, spoke in an even lower voice. ‘I don’t like to bring this up, Herr Anselm, but you are the senior person here. Herr Baader does not seem to grasp the urgency. The landlord is making serious threats about the arrears. And there are other problems.’
    ‘He’ll be back soon. I’ll impress the urgency of this on him,’ said Anselm.
    Baader owned the business. He was in the West Indies on honeymoon. Honeymoon number four, was it five?
    ‘There is more,’ said Brinkman.
    ‘Yes?’
    Brinkman moved his head from side to side, bit his lower lip.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Herr Baader wants me to charge certain expenses to the firm which we cannot justify as business expenditure. I could go to jail.’
    Anselm wasn’t in the least surprised. ‘Have you mentioned your concerns to him?’
    Brinkman nodded. ‘He doesn’t hear me.’
    ‘I’ll talk to him.’
    ‘Herr Anselm, Herr Baader interferes in the payments.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘He signs some cheques. Others don’t come back to me.’
    ‘I’ll talk to him. I promise.’
    Duty done, fearful, Brinkman nodded. Anselm turned back to the window and thought about Baader and his lusts, his juggling of the accounts.
    The tap on the glass. Beate with the cordless, again.
    It was O’Malley. He whistled when Anselm told him about Serrano.
    ‘You’re sure it’s his case she’s carrying, boyo?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Anselm. Tilders didn’t say yes when he meant, I think so. He had trained Otto and Baader had trained him and Baader had been properly trained at everything except probity in accounting.
    ‘Not socks and shirts and the dirty underpants?’ said O’Malley.
    ‘Could be hand-carved dildos and old copies of Vatican News for all we know . ’
    ‘Shit,’ said O’Malley. ‘John, I’m desperate on this bastard. We need a look, just a quick look. Minutes.’
    ‘Take a look,’ said Anselm. ‘Feel free. You have the time and place. Our work is done.’
    ‘John, John.’
    ‘Not our usual line of work,’ said Anselm. ‘You know that.’
    ‘Nonsense, I know Baader would do it.’
    He would too, thought Anselm. ‘I don’t know that. Ring him on his mobile.’
    ‘Listen, you can find someone to do it, John.’
    ‘Even if I could, these things come home to you.’
    ‘Ten grand.’
    ‘What do you want for ten grand?’
    He told Anselm, who sighed. ‘That’s all? Take on a bodyguard for ten grand? The prick may take his job seriously. I am of the absolutely not opinion.’
    ‘Twelve.’
    Anselm thought about it. He knew they shouldn’t get involved in things like this. But there were salaries to be paid, including his. He knew someone who might be able to arrange it for a thousand, fifteen hundred dollars. ‘No,’ he said.
    ‘Twelve, that’s it.’
    ‘Fifteen, win or lose.’
    O’Malley’s turn to sigh. ‘Jesus, you’re hard.’
    Anselm pulled a face. He could have got twenty, more. He disconnected and rang Tilders. ‘There’s something we have to do.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Tilders. ‘What?’
    ‘What kind of case did Zander buy?’
    ‘Aluminium photographer’s case.’
    Anselm was silent for so long that Tilders thought the line had died. ‘John?’
    ‘Tell Otto to buy one. The same. Exactly.’
    It took a call to the locksmith and four more calls, twenty minutes on the phone.

3
…HAMBURG…
     
    THE SCHNELLZUG slid into the huge vaulted station, punctual to the second by the Hauptbahnhof ’s great clock. Zander, the bodyguard, appeared first, blocked the doorway of his sleek carriage and didn’t give a damn, looked around, took his time. He was slight for someone in his line of work, blond and elegant in a dark suit, jacket unbuttoned. When he was satisfied, he moved to his left and Serrano stepped onto the platform. He too was in a dark suit but there was nothing elegant about him. He was short and podgy, a sheen on his face, hair that looked