Resurface by Tony Batton

Author:Tony Batton [Batton, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 21st Century Thrillers
Published: 2016-10-10T04:00:00+00:00

Fifty-Four

AFTER AN HOUR OF FURIOUS computer work, Kate leant back in her chair and smiled, her cup of tea cold and forgotten. Following a number of internet searches, and a couple of well-placed calls, she had built an extensive file. She had been looking at everyone who had visited with Bern. He had no living relatives, no apparent friends outside business. His late wife's family had taken sides against him. As a result, his only visitors were from his legal team. One lawyer, who looked like she was probably in her late twenties, seemed to have visited once or twice a week. Her name was Fiona Farrow.

Kate had found a nicely professional profile and picture on the law firm's website. Something about her looked familiar, but she couldn't place it. A law firm surely couldn't be party to Bern's escape, but perhaps off-the-record Farrow would be prepared to share a few clues picked up in her dealings with Bern.

Kate needed to speak to her face-to-face. She quickly made a note of the law firm's address, then started gathering her things.

Three hours later, having travelled by bike, train and the Tube, Kate strolled through the door of Kravats, Solicitors, located just near Liverpool Street in the City.

The perfectly preened receptionist looked up, with a mixture of warmth and condescension. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Kate said, trying to sound important. "I'd like to speak with Ms Farrow." Kate was ready with a complicated ruse, but the receptionist's reply was unexpected.

"I'm sorry, we have nobody of that name here."

Kate frowned. "Of course you do."

The woman's smile stiffened. "We only have thirty staff. I know them all."

Kate shook her head. "She's on your website."

The receptionist raised an eyebrow and turned to her computer. She quickly called up Kravats' website and typed in the name Farrow. The profile came up.

"Well I don't understand it," said the receptionist, peering closer with a frown. "Clearly there's an error."

"This woman has been visiting one of your clients in prison."

"I don't see how that would be possible. Who exactly are you?"

Kate drew herself up to her full height. "I was hoping to speak with her."

"Yes, but what about? Let me call one of the partners."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Never mind. I'll show myself out."

As she hurried away, she discounted the possibility that the receptionist knew what was going on. Perhaps someone in the firm did, but whatever the case, Farrow had gone to a great deal of trouble to fake her identity in order to speak with William Bern. Whatever the reason, whatever the truth of the firm's involvement, she didn't just have a name. She had a face.

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