Chapter Thirteen – Interrogation
It had seemed like the right thing to do – help a young lady who seemed about to get herself into a spot of bother. He knew that 'er Ladyship had ordered him to contact her should things get interesting; nevertheless he had decided that there had been no time to waste. So he had gone to the apartment, posing as a salesman. However, the fellow with Natasha did not have much in the way of patience, and so Parker found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. Having been out of options at that point, Parker had no choice other than to follow the man's orders and get into the back of the car, along with Natasha, who had kept silent. As soon as they were seated, restraints appeared out of nowhere, holding their hands to their sides. Even as Parker opened his mouth to protest, a mask clamped onto his face and some kind of gas knocked both him and Natasha out.
The next thing Parker became aware of were shadows flitting against a wall. It took him a moment to realise that the shadows were caused by some people standing not too far away, holding a conversation. Pretending to still be unconscious, Parker lay still, straining his ears to try and pick up any useful information.
"Well, I couldn't get anything out of her." It was the chap with no patience.
"They will." The second voice had a crisper, businesslike edge to it.
"Stubborn little bitch," Impatient said, sourly.
"She's very tenacious, yes. Perhaps that is why she's one of only three primaries left," Business replied.
"She's been lucky," Impatient scoffed.
"Natasha is very smart," said a third, well-spoken voice.
"They're all smart," Business said.
"Of course, but Natasha came from a good source," Posh replied. "A rather interesting one, too, as it happens. But her background is not really your concern."
"I'm stung," Impatient retorted. "So what do we do with Bozo in the corner?"
"He'll have to stay here for the moment," Business said. "What did you think you were doing, bringing him along?"
"I had no choice," Impatient said. "It was either that, or shoot him point blank. Geesh, the guy wouldn't shut up."
"I'd be interested in finding out some more about him," Posh said. "He may be useful."
"Doubt it. Couldn't understand a damn word that came out of his mouth," Impatient said. "I think he's French or something."
"Nationality makes no difference to me," Posh replied. There was a pause, then the sound of rustling. Business spoke.
"Here's your payment. And stay low for a bit."
"Yeah, sure." Impatient sounded as if he had no intention of doing so. There were the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing.
"He's a liability," Posh said.
"Torres is small time," Business replied.
"It's the small ones who make the big mistakes," Posh answered, suddenly not sounding quite as amiable as before.
"I'll make sure that he's dealt with," Business said.
"Good," Posh replied. "Now, go and wake our new friend in the corner."
"Another problem we didn't need," Business grumbled, his voice getting louder as he approached Parker, who did a good impression of waking up as Business shook him by the shoulder. He sat up, getting his first look at the men whose conversation he had been covertly listening to. Business was not quite as old as Parker had first thought. He appeared to be in his mid forties, with salt and pepper hair, and was what the ladies would describe as being ruggedly handsome, although Parker did not particularly like the flint-like look of his pale blue eyes.
"Hi trust that you're going to hexplain to me what I might be doing in your company?" Parker asked, deciding to play dumb.
"Yes. I must apologise for the actions of my colleague," Business said.
"Hi should think so," Parker said. "Hi could sue, you know. Wrongful imprisonment and kidnapping, for a start."
"There's going to be no need for that," Business said. "Come, let's get you a drink."
"Hi'd rather be on my way," Parker said. "Hi've got targets to meet. My boss doesn't happreciate tardiness." He allowed himself to be shown to a table, where Posh was skulking.
"I see that you're not French," he said to Parker, as Business disappeared out of the room.
"Certainly not," Parker replied, indignantly. "What gave you that idea?" Posh didn't answer him. He was older than Business, looking to be nearing sixty. He was very tall but very thin and seemed to Parker that one well-aimed kick would snap him in half. At first glance, he came across as being less callous than Business. However, Parker did not feel any more inclined to trust him.
"May I ask what you 'ave done with the young lady hi was with?"
"She's fine. I can assure you that she will not come to any harm," Posh told him.
"Hi wish hi could believe you," Parker said.
"You'll have to take my word for it," Posh said.
"That's a little difficult when one 'as been forcibly taken at gunpoint, hand continues to be held 'ostage," Parker replied. "You see my point, don't you?"
"Yes, of course. However, I'd like to ask you some questions."
"Such as?"
"Well, I'm curious. You claimed to be a salesperson, yet we could not track you down through the AIDD system. This would mean that you are not an American citizen and therefore should not be employed."
"Hi'm on a visitor's working visa."
"I don't think so somehow. Besides the AIDD discrepancy, you were not carrying any items usual of a salesperson."
"Hi like to travel light. Hi'm not a young fellow, much has I would like to be again." Parker looked suitably forlorn. Posh let out a chuckle.
"Okay, I see that I need to be a bit more direct. Have you ever seen Natasha before today?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Hi'd remember a pretty face such as hers, for certain."
"Who do you work for?"
"Hi work for myself."
"Doing what?"
"This and that. Hi is a bit of a Jack of all trades."
"What brings you to the States?"
"Friendly business."
"With whom?"
"Begging your pardon, Sir, but where hi come from, hit is not considered good manners to pry into hanother man's personal matters."
"You're not in your country now."
"That is quite obvious." The interrogation was interrupted by Business coming back with a glass of water, which he placed in front of Parker.
"For you," he said. Parker peered at the glass suspiciously.
"How do I know that you 'ave not contaminated this water?" Business sighed impatiently.
"Here," he said, picking up the glass and then taking a sip. He placed the glass back down. After carefully checking to see that Business was not showing any ill effects, Parker also took a sip. Business turned to Posh.
"How are you getting on with our friend?"
"Just fine," Posh replied.
"Hi beg to differ," Parker said. "Hi don't happreciate being interrogated like some lowlife criminal. You are not the police and hi 'ave not done anything wrong."
"You are quite right," Posh said.
"So hi can go now?" Parker asked, hopefully. Posh glanced up to Business and then back to Parker.
"Not just yet. I need to have a word with my colleague first."
"Fine. Do has you please," Parker huffed. "Hi mean, it's not has if hi 'ave anything better to do now, is it?" He pretended to sulk as Posh and Business left the room. He sat back in the chair and contemplated his position. They had not yet discovered the receiver hidden behind his ear, so that may have a use at some point, although he had no means now of outbound communication. It might be irrelevant, anyway, though Parker doubted that they were about to let him walk out the door. These chaps were definitely into the same sort of murky affair that Natasha was caught up in. He wondered what had happened to the young lady and was genuinely concerned as to her welfare. She might have been very odd – aside from looking like Mr Tracey's dead wife – but she did not appear to have been a bad person. Parker had known some very unsavoury types during his life, and she had not been like that. He decided that Natasha should be his priority, whatever fate those two characters outside were plotting for him. After some minutes, they came back in.
"We have a proposition for you," Business said.
"Hi'm listening."
"You mentioned in our discussion that you wished you were a younger man again," Posh said.
"Yes." Parker was uncertain as to where they were going with this.
"What if I said that I was able to make that happen?"
"You're pulling my leg."
"I can assure you that I'm not," Posh said.
"Well, hi know that hi'm not the most 'andsom fellow, but hi don't really want any surgery."
"No surgery required," Posh said.
"Are you saying that you 'ave discovered a fountain of youth?"
"Yes and no. More will be revealed if you're interested in my proposition." Posh sat back and folded his arms expectantly. Business simply stood looking enigmatic. Parker knew an opportunity when he saw one, even if what he had in mind was not on the same wavelength as Posh and Business. He looked hard at Business and then at Posh.
"So, what's in it for me, then?"
Elsewhere in the building, Natasha was enjoying a little more freedom – in relative terms. They had questioned her relentlessly, but she had given nothing away. She knew though, that they were not satisfied. She shuddered slightly. That probably meant they would be planning some sort of hardball interrogation. She'd heard stories about what that involved. Some of the others had called it Room 101, a reference to Nineteen Eighty-Four, by George Orwell. Natasha had never read the book personally, but Lucy had at some point and now Natasha recalled it perfectly. Room 101 contained the worst thing in the world. She pondered the book some more. Big Brother. To one generation, it was the name of some sort of reality television show, a genre popular in the early years of the century. Most never even realised that the basis of the show lay in Orwell's novel. To Natasha, the term represented something far more real and frightening than people parading around for the cameras in an artificial environment. Lucy had been a person who had little time for conspiracy theories, but Natasha could well believe those Lone Gunmen types. For as far as she was concerned, Big Brother was real.