‘I find money pays the bills better than truth,’ she said.
He grinned at her and she knew she wouldn’t be here at the lake talking to him if she wasn’t interested in blowing the lid off.
‘I used to think this was all about the Neurohydroxy, but it’s not, is it? That’s just a primer. It’s about the electronic messaging Jamie told me about.’
‘Ah, the infamous nanotechnology injected into the subject. Fascinating. There were rumours that mRNA vaccines were capable of it but papers on it are, understandably, suppressed. Nobody will believe you,’ she said.
‘They won’t have to because I know where the asset is.’
‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Now I know I’m close.’
She walked away.
‘So, it’s true?’ he asked her.
He didn’t follow her. Instead, he sank into the shadows behind the treeline and headed for the road. The buses to Chapel Stile were like rocking-horse shit and he was late already.
Chapter 31
Paul’s hands shook as he packed his bag. He could kick himself for hanging around to wait for the police, but Tilda told them it’s what everyone should do. The last thing he wanted was to be flagged as a person of interest because he showed too little concern over the death of his partner. Or too much interest because he was freaking out.
Jamie’s death had been gruesome.
He felt lost. He’d always been sure about what action to take. Certain of his convictions. Master of his destiny. Now though, he wasn’t so sure. The sensation of ambiguity troubled him. He didn’t know what to do with it.
And now Angelina. He’d genuinely almost vomited on the copper when she told him Angie was dead.
Beautiful, small, delicate and clever Angie. His first love. Unrequited. Taunting him from afar, reminding him how he wasn’t in her league. The artist, the ethereal untouchable sister of the man he envied to such an extent that he’d let resentment cloud his judgement.
He examined his behaviour towards the detective microscopically, and thought he’d done a pretty good job, all things considered. He’d managed to pull off shock, grief and compassion all in one, he thought. He’d given it his best shot. He wasn’t an actor; he was a salesman. He’d made mistakes and he’d told the detective about his affair with the CEO. It looked bad. That was his problem, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
He laughed at his own stupid thoughts. Salesmenareactors!
The first law of selling was to tell a story to your audience.
Being a sociopath also helped.
But it wasn’t necessarily a derogatory term these days. Most professionals accepted that the attributes of somebody with a personality disorder were the same ones desirous for the world of hard-nosed commerce. Buyers only wanted to see the illusion of empathy, reliability and trust. Sellers could acquire these things a variety of ways. Charisma and charm were but two examples. Manipulation and risk taking were arguably more valuable. Paul thought he possessed a healthy balance of all of them.
But he’d never been as good as Jamie. That was why he’d accepted Hank’s offer so readily. His offer to work his way deeper into the core of Hampton-Dent. It involved becoming a lab rat and he’d willingly done it because he had nothing to lose.
Until he did.
Now, he understood they were obliterating his mind.
He glanced over at the remaining sachets of powder on his bedside table. He was drinking too much of the goddam stuff. He knew it. He was a grown-up. He knew when he was becoming addicted to something because he’d been hooked on most substances available on the open market (as well as the illegal ones) at one point or another in his life, and he could sense the slippery descent into losing control, but that was the whole point. The chemicals made the nanotechnology work better. He’d signed up for it. He knew what was at stake.
So did Jamie.
Until the night in New York that changed everything.
Jamie’s biggest mistake was introducing Angie to Hank Hampton. He loved her work; he admired her fine talent. He spent a fortune on her genius. But he wanted more in return than she could give. Hank Hampton thought he could own anything.
If it wasn’t for sale then he’d just take it anyway.
But Angie hadn’t been for sale.
