Codename Villanelle No Tomorrow Die for Me by Jennings Luke

Codename Villanelle  No Tomorrow  Die for Me by Jennings Luke

Author:Jennings, Luke [Jennings, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789124025199
Amazon: 9124025194
Goodreads: 54905463
Publisher: John Murray/Mulholland Books
Published: 2020-01-01T08:00:00+00:00


It’s just after 6 p.m., London time, when Eve and Lance walk into the Goodge Street office, carrying their overnight bags. They’ve taken the Underground from Heathrow, which was slow, but not as slow as battling through the rush-hour traffic in a taxi.

Billy swivels his chair to face them. On the floor beside him is a small tower of foil takeaway cartons. He stretches lethargically and yawns, like an inadequately exercised cat. ‘Good flight?’

‘Had worse.’ Lance drops his bags and noses the air. ‘Did something die in here while we were away?’

‘How are you, Billy?’ Eve asks.

‘Not bad. Tea?’

‘God, yes please.’

‘Lance?’

‘Yeah, go on.’

Eve resists the urge to open the streaming window and let a little air into the curried fug of the office. She’s anxious for Billy to do two things. To find out everything possible about Rinat Yevtukh, the Ukrainian who went missing in Venice, and to launch a worldwide search of recent internet traffic for the name, or codename, Villanelle. Both undertakings are likely to be complex, and experience has taught Eve that to get the best out of Billy, you don’t rush him.

‘How’s it been?’ she asks him.

‘Same,’ Billy says, moving unhurriedly towards the sink and flipping a tea bag into each of the mugs on the draining board.

‘What the lady means is, did you miss us?’ says Lance.

‘Didn’t really notice you weren’t here, to be honest.’

Lance unzips his overnight bag and pulls out a package, which he throws to Billy.

‘What’s this?’

‘Souvenir of Venice, mate. Just to show we were thinking about you slaving away while we were living the dream.’

‘Nice one.’

It’s a gondolier’s red and white striped T-shirt. Eve darts a grateful look at Lance; never once did it occur to her to pick up anything for Billy.

‘So where are we?’ she asks Billy, when the tea has been circulated.

‘I’ve been chasing Tony Kent.’

‘Anything new?’

‘Bits and pieces.’

‘Spill.’

Billy swivels back towards his screens. ‘OK, background. Kent is an associate, friend, whatever, of Dennis Cradle, now dead. The money that the Twelve used to pay Cradle was routed via Kent, and the original source for this information is a document provided to Eve in Shanghai by Jin Qiang of the MSS, the Chinese Ministry of State Security. Agree so far?’

Eve nods.

‘Open source intelligence on Kent is hard to find. Basically, his online presence has been scrubbed. Not a whisper on social media, and highly selective bio-data. Enough detail not to look deliberately redacted, but nothing that leads anywhere.’

In her pocket, Eve’s phone vibrates. Without looking she knows it’s Niko. Billy glances at her, wondering if she’s going to take the call, but she ignores it.

‘Even so, I’ve been able to join up one or two of the dots. Kent is fifty-one years old. No kids, two divorces.’

‘Are the ex-wives contactable?’

‘Yes, one now lives in Marbella, in Spain, and the other runs a Staffordshire bull-terrier rescue centre in Stellenbosch, South Africa. I rang them both, saying I was trying to get in touch with Tony. The first one, Letitia, was so drunk she could hardly speak, even though it was only eleven o’clock in the morning.



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