Free Blood Money by Chris Ryan

doors along.’
    ‘Then that looks like the place we want,’ said Li.
    Opposite the cinema was a long, low, single-storey building painted in pale yellow. The sign said: ST THOMAS’S CLINIC . One section of the building had bars on the windows.
    Li turned round and pretended to take an interest in the film poster. ‘How are we going to enquire about her?’
    Amber joined her. ‘We could say her mother is ill and asking for her to come home.’
    ‘Risky,’ said Alex. ‘That might really worry Bina if she heard us.’
    ‘Suppose we say we’re her friends and we’ve come to visit her,’ said Paulo. ‘Nothing suspicious about that. And we’ll just see what they say.’
    ‘I’ll go in,’ said Li.
    ‘And me,’ said Paulo.
    ‘Right, that means Hex, Amber and me are backup,’ said Alex. It was their standard practice when investigating to go in twos. Then, if they had to follow up or try a different approach, there were still three who hadn’t been identified. ‘We’ll find an RV point and text you the location.’
    In the clinic’s reception area, a fan rotated slowly below a yellow ceiling. A nurse holding a clipboard bustled up to the counter. ‘Yes?’
    ‘A friend of ours is here having treatment,’ said Paulo. ‘She asked us to bring something for her.’ He patted the small leather bag on his belt pack as though it contained the item. In reality it contained a toolkit.
    The nurse frowned. ‘What’s her name?’
    ‘Bina Bhattacharya.’
    The nurse shook her head. ‘I don’t think we’ve got anyone of that name here. What was she in for?’
    Li thought quickly. The principle was always to say as little as possible, and to stay as close to the truth as possible. ‘Tests, I think.’ She deliberately made it sound vague. The less they seemed to know, the better. ‘But she definitely said it was here.’
    Paulo’s phone bleeped: he had a message. He clicked to open it. It was from Amber. A photo of Bina came up on the screen; it had been taken a few days before at the building site. She was standing next to Li and Paulo, holding a trowel. ‘Look,’ said Paulo. He showed the picture to the nurse. ‘Here’s what she looks like.’
    The nurse stared at the picture. Her manner changed. ‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘Your friend is not here. She has not been here.’
    The same thought occurred to Li and Paulo simultaneously: Why had the nurse’s mood changed? But they were careful not to let their reaction show in their faces.
    The nurse gave the phone back to Paulo, keeping it at arm’s length, as though looking at the picture was going to make her give something away. ‘You’ll have to go now,’ she said. ‘If you don’t have an appointment you can’t see anybody.’ She turned away from the desk, as though eager to escape.
    Definitely trying to hide something, thought Paulo. And flustered by it; as though she doesn’t have to do it very often. But it was clear they weren’t going to get any further by asking questions.
    He pulled Li’s sleeve. ‘We’d better go,’ he said. He looked at the nurse. ‘Sorry to have bothered you.’
    They turned and left the clinic. Beside the entrance, a rubbish bag was propped against the wall. A rat scurried away as they approached, but it had left a hole in the black plastic. Something caught Li’s eye and she crouched down as though tying her shoelace.
    She only needed a glance. In among the papers and wrappers that had been thrown away was a small red band of plaited cotton. It was Amber’s friendship bracelet – the one she had given to Bina. What was it doing there?

13
    C ONSPIRACY
    ‘Has Alex texted the RV?’ said Paulo.
    Li clicked through her messages as she walked away from the building. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘South for a couple of blocks; the park with the big white building.’
    The route took them back past the gaudy cinema. They walked slowly, like two friends having a chat. Someone might be watching from the clinic, so they