I gave her the address.
“I know of it. There’s a couple ofinterestingtenants.”
“Do you know it well enough to get us out?”
“Us?”
“Prima is with me.”
“Fascinating,” she muttered under her breath with a total lack of enthusiasm. “Give me an hour.”
Forty minutes later,Iris rang.
“There’s a service corridor on the thirty-second floor. Maintenance access leads to a freight elevator that opens in the sub-basement, where there’s a loading dock on the east side—no camera coverage for about fifteen seconds between sweeps. I’ll have a car waiting.”
“How did you get building schematics in forty minutes?”
“I know a guy who knows a guy.” She paused. “You’ll owe me double for this.”
“Roger that.”
“Twenty minutes. East loading dock. Don’t be late.”
“Understood.”
“Wait.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
“Which unit are you in?”
“Penthouse.”
I heard her snicker. “Now thatisfascinating. Archon’s?” She drew out the name. “You know he’s into some twistedshit, right? Alternative lifestyle. BDSM clubs. I heard he was in some kind of relationship—God, must be seven or eight years ago now. A woman died.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “Do you know what happened?”
“Not the details, but it allegedly happened at a club called the Crucible.” She paused.“You aren’t involved?—?”
“Iris. Can you help us get out or not?”
She sighed. “Yes, fine. Twenty minutes.”
The line went dead.
Phee was still standing close enough to have heard both sides of the conversation and already had something on the screen of her mobile. “The Crucible is in Shoreditch, which isn’t far from here.”
“Right,” I muttered, thinking through our next steps. First, we needed to escape the gilded cage Kiernan kept us in. Then we could make the next plan.
“She said seven or eight years.”
“That lines up exactly with the leave,” I agreed.
“The death of someone he was close to would explain taking six weeks off.”
“Definitely.”
The escape was clean.Mostly.
