Free The Code War by Ciaran Nagle Page A

manicured finger nails that gave you away?' Pete
looked down at his fingertips. 'No. Was it your upper-class accent
that occasionally slips through when you forget to talk common?'
She hesitated playfully. 'No.' Nancy pretended to
ponder.
    'Hmm. Maybe it was the..'
    'Oh no ,
the cheque for this trip,' wailed Pete. 'My mum.'
    '…the cheque. D rawn on Barings Bank of London. A bank for toffs. In the
name of Sir Edmund Temple-Grenville. Your father, I
believe.'
    'My dad always signs a few cheques
and leaves them for my mum. For shopping in Harrod's and such like.
She's not supposed to use them for me.'
    ' And
then I simply cross-checked your dad's name with Who's Who and it
gave me his title and all his details. And there you were too. Pete
Temple. First son.'
    'Oh no, I'm ruined.'
    'No-one need ever know.'
    'You mean that? Can you really keep a
secret?
    'Mum's the word.' Nancy tapped her
nose twice with her finger.
    'Very funny. Oh, Nancy. Thank you
so much. I'm so grateful.'
    'The car, Pete.'
    'Oh yes, the car. OK, no problem.
Yes. I can take care of that. So long as the others don't know it's
me. I'm sure I can sort you out a little Polo. For a
day.'
    'No.'
    'What do you mean, no?'
    Nancy looked at him patiently.
    'OK, a Golf. But that's it. That's all I
can manage.'
    'No.'
    'What do you want?'
    'Jaguar. XJ12. Automatic. With
air-conditioning and FM radio. And electric windows. And a full
tank of petrol.'
    'No. You're mad. They'll cut me off. My
parents will cut my inheritance.'
    Nancy went to the door and grasped the
handle.
    'All right. It's a deal.' Pete
dragged her back. 'It's a deal,' he repeated. 'I'll do
it.'
    ' Thank
you,' said Nancy. 'You're a gentleman. And in your case, you're not
only a gentleman, you're probably a knight. Or an earl. Or a
baronet. Or something.' She smiled conspiratorially and walked to
the door again. 'Won't say a word,' she whispered with a grin. She
grasped the handle a second time.
    'Hang on,' said Pete grabbing her
by the waist and pulling her back into the middle of the room.
'What about your side of the bargain?'
    'I'm fulfilling my side. I promised to
keep your secret.'
    'I think there was something else.'
    Nancy sighed. 'Oh, very well.' She
placed her hands on his shoulders and flicked her hair back. 'But
you owe me, OK?'
     
     
     
    Lev's Bistro,
Eilat
     
    Nancy swallowed a small sip of wine and reflected on the second
spooky event that had happened shortly before. Was there a ghost in
the apartment?
    The evening was deliciously warm
and the candles on the tables added a magic glow to the knots of
people who had come out to dine. Barely
thirty yards away the sea lapped onto the fine sandy beach and here
and there upturned fishing boats awaited the next day's work.
Desert cicadas chirruped away noisily on nearby trees. There was a
hubbub of conversation all around that occasionally surged as
people on one table or another exploded in mirthful exuberance or
engaged in the type of loud discussion that Israelis so delighted
in. The mood was joyful as if everyone had their own reason for
celebration.
    Martin was recounting an anecdote from
one of his university rugby club's outings.
    'So there I was in the front row of the
scrum, we've locked arms and we're just about to engage with the
other team. There's onIy a minute to the final whistle and we're
just one point ahead. I was face to face with one-tooth Tarrant,
the dinosaur of Durham, and he's seriously unchuffed that they're
losing. Now bear in mind, that morning I'd washed my hair and I
couldn't do a thing with it. I'd tried rollers, curlers, crimping,
you name it, nothing worked.' Pete and Andy are rocking in their
chairs laughing.
    'Then the referee shouts 'engage'
and we all crash against each other. One-tooth Tarrant sees his
opportunity and he grabs my hair and starts pulling it. I shouted
'ouch, let go' and he shouts in his gritty Glaswegian accent 'your
hair's a mess anyway' - a sentiment I could hardly disagree with,
to be