Chapter Six
Ishmael
Ishmael watched as Ollie made him another Americano.
“So,” Ollie said. “Here’s where we’re at. The Met is looking for a single shooter who left the scene of last night’s shooting. The cameras on your warehouse and the surrounding ones are no good as someone hacked into their feeds and wipes footage from the past twelve days off of the feed.” Ollie smirked at that. Jamal had been quite thorough. “The press are saying it was a drug deal gone bad and are looking at organised crime connections given the sophistication of the hack.” Ollie sat the cup down in front of his boss.
Ishmael lifted the cup, drinking in the aroma.And they will say nothing unless we want them to.
Ollie continued. “Jamal confirms everything here is clean. The only fly on the ointment is the kid. He can place you coming in the front.”
“The lock on the back door was damaged and wouldn’t work.” He was quite angry about that, actually. It was a star of the art smart lock and some fool had tried to get it to unlock the door by smashing it. They’d damaged it enough that it would need to be replaced entirely. Upon seeing the damage, he’d walked around to the front and waited for a moment when he could slip in the front door unnoticed by anyone arriving or leaving the club. That hadn’t been terribly difficult as it had been one in the morning on a weekday. If the kid hadn’t been there, it would have been a matter of walking through the lobby, entering his private hallway to access his lift, and having Jamal replace the footage.
“Yes. They smashed the camera there as well, but the ones at the club caught footage of a guest from the club who managed to sneak out the rear entrance and went walking in the correct direction.”
“And how did they get behind the bar?”
Ollie grimaced. “One of the bartenders took him into the storeroom during her break and apparently had an assignation. I’ve already terminated her employment. She did tell me what his drink orders had been, though, so I managed to pull a credit card slip. I’ve emailed it all to Father, and he will be sending a registered letter to the offender once he’s gotten the rest of his information.”
Ishmael took a sip of his coffee.
“That leaves us the boy. The smashed camera and lock have no effect on your alibi, as security discovered them this morning during a sweep, officially. A reprimand has been placed in last night’s security files for failing to watch the monitors properly and not realising the alarm was apparently non-functional before this.”
Ishmael nodded. He already knew the men would have been paid a bonus, in cash, for this.
“So, just the boy,” he said, wearily. He’d recognised the young man when he saw him that morning. It was the same young man he’d observed checking in.
“Yes, and he is definitely a problem. He made the front desk confirm it was you and then mentioned the incident to his regional manager in front of another regional manager and an area manager.”
“Shit.”
“Now, we were alerted by Jonas Welby, his regional manager, immediately. He and his companions made their excuses about needing to get ready for the conference and left as soon as this Kristoffer Jones started talking about seeing you.” Ollie picked up his iPad and tapped on the screen.”Jamal has been tracking him since you first notified us. He’s finishing his breakfast now while talking to Lorraine, his manager.”
“I want him brought in,” Ishmael decided, studying the boy’s face.
“Now?”
“Yes, but be discreet.”
“Of course,” Ollie said, sounding aggrieved. “I’ll make arrangements right away. Do you want him here or in the office?”
“Here, in my study.”
“He’ll be here within the hour.” Ollie hurried off to fulfil his promise. He came to a stop at Ishmael’s front door. “Oh, what about your morning meeting with Sean?”
Ishmael smiled. “Consider it cancelled.”
“Got it.” The door closed behind him with a soft snick. Ishmael continued to drink his coffee. He hadn’t managed to grab more than a power nap after making it back to his penthouse. He’d had to contact Ollie and Jamal and get the ball rolling for damage control. Ollie had shown up right away, taking point with Jamal and Ezra, his head of personal security. Only then had he managed to sleep, albeit only for such a brief time. Finishing his drink, he got up and poured himself a glass of orange juice while contemplating what to do about breakfast.
His phone buzzed.
“Sir,” Said Ollie on the other end. Everything is in place. He’ll be up shortly.”
“Understood.” Ishmael ended the call. He rinsed his glass out and sat it down on the drainer. It was time to get ready to greet his guest. He went into his ensuite bathroom and showered. Next, he used his electric razor to quickly rid himself of the small amount of auburn stubble starting to reappear along his jaw. Then he dressed himself in his suit. He was just putting in his cuff links when his bodyguard buzzed his phone to alert him he had an expected guest. He answered it.
“Housekeeping is here,” the man said simply.
“Let them in,” he replied, coming out of his bedroom. The door opened, revealing a laundry cart. “He’s in the bag,” the woman said simply. He nodded at her and tugged the bag onto the floor, thankful for the diminutive size of the boy. It was bad enough that he was dead weight without being any more cumbersome than he was. The woman helped him remove Kristoffer from the bag, then filled it up with towels and bedding before leaving.
He looked down at the unconscious boy. He really was a lovely thing. Exactly his type. Small but not boney, with a lush bubble butt that as just big enough to grab. Pretty to look at and by all accounts, well mannered. Jamal’s investigation had shown he called his mother a lot and she him. If he hoped what he planned worked as it would be a shame to have to kill him.
He picked him up and carried him into his study. He left him prone on the floor while he fastened the swing onto two of the eyelets in the ceiling. He called for Ezra to come up to assist him. A few minutes later, Ezra arrived, looking baffled. When he realised what his boss was up to, he gave a wicked grin. After stripping Kristoffer, Ishmael had Ezra hold him up while he fastened him into the swing before suspending him. Lastly, he placed a gag in the boy’s mouth.
“Stay here in case he wakes up. I’ll be right back,” Ishmael said. His hair was a mess. He needed to impress the boy, not present an untidy front. He quickly styled it, then returned to his study. “Please wait in the living room. You’re free to help yourself to coffee and juice from the kitchen,” Ishmael informed Ezra. He moved his chair to in front of the picture window, turning it to face the boy. When he awoke, he’d be the first thing he saw.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t also be the last.
