Free Lethal Profit by Alex Blackmore Page A

‘No,’ she responded, puzzled. Was Valerie still looking for this woman? ‘Why do you ask?’
    â€˜I want to know what she looks like. Whether she was…’ Valerie hesitated, as if trying to think of something to say. ‘Whether she was more beautiful than me.’
    Eva gazed at Valerie’s perfectly structured face; the high, strong cheekbones, the blazing green eyes, the full lips. Could anyone so attractive really be that insecure?
    â€˜I…’ Eva opened her mouth to respond but Valerie didn’t let her finish.
    â€˜I must go,’ she said as she got up and threw some coins onto the table. ‘I hope you have got what you need from me now.’ Without another word, she picked up her coat and walked out.
    The kissing couple opposite briefly observed Eva as she followed Valerie’s retreating figure with her eyes. When the waiter finally arrived with their bill they separated for just long enough to deposit a twenty Euro note and put on their coats to face the autumn cold before their lips locked again. The dark skinned man had paid his bill and left before Valerie. He waited outside the café, lighting a sweet-smelling cigarette and pulling his cheap overcoat tightly around his thick torso. As Valerie left the café he watched her walk determinedly across the small square on which the café stood. When she took the first right turning down a typically narrow Parisian street, away from the Métro and the hordes of tourists, he pulled the collar of his coat up high, stepped off the pavement and followed her.

    Eva paid the remainder of the bill and wondered why she had bothered trying to communicate with Valerie. Leon must have completely the wrong end of the stick to imagine that she was at the centre of it all. She was simply a vulnerable young woman who had been hurt. Jackson had been a passionate man who did nothing in moderation and this had been especially true when it came to Valerie. From what Eva could gather, Valerie had arrived in her brother’s life with a history of abusive relationships. A tragic, secretive beauty who needed to be saved. Of course, Jackson had saved her. Other than a weakness for beautiful women his downfall had always been that he wanted to be a hero; after what he had done as a teenager he had told Eva helping others fleetingly made him feel like a decent man. He had asked Valerie to move in with him just a month after they had met at the aid agency and then he had supported her with his modest wage, whilst she apparently spent her own on shoes and handbags. Eva had found the idea of their relationship uncomfortable. It had happened too quickly and it seemed just too reckless – too much too soon. But when it came to having any authority on relationships, Eva was on shaky ground.

    Walking back to the hotel, she gazed around at the beautiful city, with its wide boulevards, elegant vistas and cosy cafés. She felt unable to enjoy her surroundings, or really see what was around her; inside something just felt numb. Since Jackson’s second death, everything had fallen apart, she thought sadly. Or had she destroyed it? It was difficult to tell. As she approached the glass-fronted door of her hotel close to the Gare du Nord, Eva felt the vibration of her phone that Leon had returned to her. She stopped outside, pulled open the zip on her bag and leaned against the peeling orange-painted wall to read the text. As the screen came to life, revealing the sender beneath her fingertips, shock flooded through her body, inflaming every one of her nerve endings. Jackson.
    She opened the text, her fingers fumbling over the buttons to the point where she almost dropped the phone. The message contained a series of incomprehensible letters, numbers and symbols. She read it several times but it made no sense at all. Eva’s skin chilled. She had no idea what was going on, none at all. The powerlessness made her feel