when?’
‘Not sure. Since the last course, I think. I’d noticed they were spending a lot of time together. I was going to tell you. Must have slipped my mind. Or maybe I just didn’t want it to happen. Denial, or something.’
Ben watched her approach. Dr Brooke Marcel. Expert in hostage psychology, with an alphabet of letters after her name. Based in London, she’d spent years as a consultant to specialised police and military units, but was recently spending more and more time lecturing at Le Val. She was thirty-five, maybe thirty-six. He suddenly realised that maybe he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought.
‘No reaction?’ Jeff asked, watching him closely.
‘Not my business,’ Ben said.
‘Come on. There’s always been something between you two. All those nights sitting together in the kitchen, drinking wine, listening to music. Going for walks. Don’t act like you don’t care.’
‘There’s never been anything going on between me and Brooke. Only in your head.’
‘I don’t know what she sees in that pumped-up twit, anyway. You’re more her type.’
Ben ignored that. ‘He is what he is, but he’s paying a lot of money for this course.’
‘I get it. You want me to be nice to the bastard.’
‘Too much to ask?’
Jeff kept his eyes on Shannon as he chewed it over. ‘It just might be, yeah.’
‘Remember what we agreed, Jeff,’ Ben said. ‘At Le Val we always respect our clients, no matter what. OK?’ But he didn’t like the lecturing way it came out.
‘Even the arseholes.’
‘Especially the arseholes.’ Ben walked over to the door, opened it and stepped out just as Shannon reached the building. Jeff followed him outside, muttering something that Ben didn’t catch.
Shannon’s grin broadened as he greeted them. He was a big guy. At six-three he was four inches taller than Ben, probably fifty pounds heavier, about five years younger. He raised his hand to his face and whipped off the shades.
‘Ciao, Jeff, ciao, Benjamin,’ he brayed at them. ‘How’s it going, boys?’
‘It’s Benedict, not Benjamin. And you can call me Ben.’ Not a great start, he thought.
Shannon grunted with a dismissive gesture. ‘Whatever. Benedict, Benjamin, Ben, it’s all the same to me.’
Ben could feel Jeff bristling beside him. He threw him a quick warning glance. Respect the client, no matter what.
Brooke came up behind Shannon. ‘Hello, Ben,’ she said softly, and smiled.
‘Hi, Brooke.’ Ben patted her arm affectionately, like he always did. Shannon noticed it, and cleared his throat.
‘The rest of the guys should be arriving soon,’ he said.
‘Fine. The accommodation’s ready for you all.’ Ben pointed over at the trainees’ block, across the yard from the main farmhouse.
‘I won’t be kipping here,’ Shannon said. He put a big arm around Brooke’s shoulders and pulled her tightly against his side. ‘Us two are booked into the Cour du Château. This little lady deserves a bit more luxury than this old place has to offer.’
‘That’s miles away,’ Ben said.
Shannon grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be here bright and early in the morning. Always punctual.’
‘Nice wheels, Rupert,’ Jeff said dryly, motioning towards the Porsche.
Shannon’s eyes twinkled. ‘Oh yes. I’ve hit the fucking jackpot this time.’
‘So this would be the contract you were telling me about,’ Ben said.
Shannon nodded. ‘You don’t know the half of it, Benjamin. Steiner Industries. Protecting the head honcho himself, Maximilian Steiner.’
‘Kidnap threat?’
‘One attempt so far,’ Shannon said. ‘Failed, but only just. What d’you expect? The guy’s a billionaire, for Christ’s sakes. Have I hit paydirt, or what? He’s paying one point two million for this gig. And there’s a shitload more to come. You should see the place we’re going.’
‘Congratulations, Rupert,’ Ben said. ‘Looks like this new business venture of yours is really taking off.’
‘You bet your arse it is. And this is just the beginning, pal. I’ve been looking at new offices. Docklands, right on the river, three floors. PA, receptionists, you name it, the works.’
‘Here’s my advice, though,’ Ben said. ‘I know you’re flush from getting this Steiner contract. That’s great. I’m pleased for you. But take it easy. Don’t go mad with it. This is a tough business, and you never know what’s round the corner.’
Shannon reddened. ‘Listen to this guy. Are you for real, Hope?’
‘I just meant, be careful, that’s all. Don’t go spending it all at once, before you’ve even earned it.’
Shannon laughed and slapped him on the arm. ‘You sound like my fucking nanny. You know what your problem is? You’re getting old and slow.’
‘Forty next birthday,’ Ben said. ‘Be dead soon.’
‘Fucking forty,’ Shannon guffawed. ‘Five years from now you’ll be just another flabby-arsed, ulcer-ridden businessman sitting behind a desk.’
‘You might be right,’ Ben said. Now he could sense indignation radiating from Jeff in waves. Couldn’t say he blamed him.
Shannon grinned down at Brooke and squeezed her to his side. ‘Now why don’t we see about heading back to the hotel and grab some nosh?’
‘Any plans for tomorrow?’ Ben asked her.
She shrugged. ‘Not really.’
‘We’ll be doing kidnap simulation exercises in the morning. How d’you feel about coming along and playing the principal?’
‘Sounds fun,’ she smiled. ‘Looking forward to it.’
The Sheldon Hotel, Dublin The next morning, 10.15
The audience broke into enthusiastic applause as the speaker brought his presentation to an end. Up on the low stage, Dr Adam O’Connor smiled from the podium, thanked them all for listening and started gathering up his notes. People rose from their seats and started filtering out towards the exit. Adam folded up his laptop, walked over to the projector and
