Chapter 18 Chapter Seventeen

Wednesday morning.Seven thirty.Sarah carried a small white paper bag with a handle through the Intercontinental Bank trading floor.The paper bag containing milk cheese coffee and toast swayed as she walked, and the white foam of the coffee slowly seeped out through the lid of the polyethylene plastic cup.She sat down at the proprietary trading desk, took out her coffee and a slice of toast wrapped in a greaseproof paper, and began to eat.This is a morning routine, safe and familiar, to be enjoyed quietly. A few seconds later, Matthew.Arnott took the seat next to her.She nodded at him, then went back to reading the butter-stained copy of the Financial Times while eating toast.She had no intention of looking at him, nor letting him see her eyes, for fear that her own eyes would reveal her intimate knowledge of him.Simon.Wilson was blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.After Sarah finished her toast, she lit a cigarette.

God, I'm feeling sick, Wilson complained, going to the Acoustic Department nightclub last night.Stayed until four o'clock in the morning. Arnott laughed and wanted to celebrate again, huh? Wilson nodded, don't you want to? Arnott said with a smug smile: I like to make my joy unconventional, that's all. Sara nearly choked on a puff of cigarette: So what is Mr. Super Unconventional going to do? Arnott turned to look at her.She met his gaze with the certainty of knowing that if there was anything in her eyes it was contempt. I think I'm going to Positano for the weekend with my girlfriend.

Sara shrugged: Positano in July, I don't think it would be very comfortable?too many people.I've always felt that May and June are much better. Wilson snickered to himself.Arnott turned on the monitor and muttered under his breath: You are a fucking clown. Sarah thought: Positano?What was he and Carla doing there?Was it a meeting with the mysterious mastermind? She had been paying attention to him that day, and as long as she felt that he was not looking this way, her eyes would secretly glance to the left, paying attention to his every move.She found the man to be quite unremarkable.A mediocre man has committed a heinous crime.It is at least a little convincing to say that Scarpirato committed a crime.And the mysterious mastermind.What kind of person would he be?Sarah looked around and asked herself.She tried unsuccessfully to paint a psychological profile of the man.What filled her mind was an expressionless face.

She found it difficult to concentrate and stared at the monitor distractedly.No one trades.None of them wanted to make trouble.The burnout after a boom, the disappointment after a climax has arrived.Sarah leaves work at four o'clock. She went home, changed into her work clothes, and printed out a report for Barrington.She couldn't imagine reporting her findings verbally.Somehow the written form gave her a sense of distance, as if she were a reporter writing a report. She had just finished printing when the phone rang.It was Dante calling. I need to see you.His voice sounded like a rough caress, and Sarah began to break out in a sweat.It was 5:30, the sun was still high in the sky, and the heat was seeping through my jeans.After a brief silence, she answered mechanically.

ok, i'll come over. She got into the BMW and started it.She turned on the tape recorder, and it was the tape of Soul II: Soul Eleven.She drove up the King's Road to his apartment in the Wellington Square area, her heavy percussion permeating her as if on autopilot. He appeared at the door with a smile on his face, and took a step back to let her go ahead.Neither of them spoke as she walked through the hall.He led her across his room to the roof deck.Then he brought two glasses of white wine and set them on a wooden picnic table.Sarah sat on the bench opposite him, raised her glass to her mouth, and looked him straight in the eyes.

He was wearing blue jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, the first time she had seen him without his uniform.She noticed the thick black hair and tanned skin on his arms.She reached across the table, grabbed his forearm, and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Their conversation was intermittent and rambling.After a while, he took her hand.Both were impatient.He led her into the apartment, to his bedroom with the curtains closed and cool.He kissed her passionately and pushed her down on the bed. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down.She was wearing nothing underneath.For a while he just looked at her lying beneath him, then bent down and kissed her face, clasping hers with his.

Sarah lay in bed with a linen sheet half-draped over her naked body.The cool morning air mixed with gentle sunlight filtering in through the thick curtains woke her up.It was a quarter to six.It had been dawn for more than an hour, and the birds were jumping around and chirping non-stop in the tree-lined square.She lay motionless for a moment, resembling a victim of a major accident, assessing the extent of her injury before moving her body.The purging joy of last night was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable emptiness.Sarah knew this approach would only intensify her own need.Seeking comfort from discomfort is a futile, but nonetheless, repetitive practice.

Sarah was lying on Scarpirato's huge bed, not far from him.She analyzed her situation calmly and detachedly.She saw it very clearly: the result of association with this man would be nothing but destruction.Yet she saw just as clearly that any attempt to break the association was futile.The severance was inevitable in the end, and not too far away, she had felt.She would sit and wait for that moment to come.So, freed from her doomed efforts to leave him, she removed a layer of guilt. She admitted that he was very attractive to her, and wondered again what it was that attracted her.He wasn't the first dangerous, destructive man she'd slept with.she and johnWhen Carter went out with her first serious boyfriend, she had counted on her to have kept dangerous men out of her system.When she met Eddie, she became even more convinced of it.Then Scarpirato came into her life, and it was a setback, one of the most extreme experiences she had ever experienced.Perhaps he was destined to be her last guinea pig: catharsis.She quickly came to this conclusion.Well, let him be her catharsis.He used her for selfish purposes, but she also had selfish purposes.From another perspective, he was undoubtedly her prey as well.Feeling a surge of relief at this thought, she slipped out of bed, dressed, and left.

Sarah handed the report to Barrington at twelve-thirty that day, just before his scheduled lunch with the visiting delegation of German bankers.She sat in his office next to the grandfather clock that ticked delicately and melancholy.He told her that he only gave her ten minutes. I've made some rather interesting discoveries.They have been written down in full and are now handed over to you.She handed him an audio tape on which Jacob had transcribed all the relevant conversations.This is not court evidence, but it is clear that criminal activity has occurred, and the extent of it is quite alarming.

Barrington's eyes widened as he listened to her, and he made no effort to hide his surprise.So he is right to He.Miller's trap has been triggered.He didn't mention it to Sara, just squinted and listened to her carefully.In the silence that followed, he tried to think hard. He looked at the woman sitting in front of him, and for the first time felt a vague ominous omen.He dismissed the thought immediately.This kind of thinking is out of date.He picked her, recommended her, and she has produced amazing results in a short period of time.These are facts, and he must pay attention to the facts.He'd been taken aback by her use of the bug, that's all, but now that he knew her energy, everything would be fine.He had told her about the scope of the investigation, and she had proven herself to be an ingenuity that exceeded his expectations.This is the correct way to look at the problem, instead of thinking that I underestimated her at the beginning.He smiled at Sarah across the desk.

That's quite the difference, Sarah.Well done.The situation is disturbing.It's extremely disturbing, but it's not easy for you to find out the truth.He did not mention the methods she employed.Sarah could tell he was avoiding that. I'll read your report carefully, listen to this tape, and get back to you when I get back.But in the meantime, you just do it.He glanced at the grand clock.Sara understood the cue and got up to take her leave. You need a digital tape recorder to listen to this tape.She smiled, but I'm sure you'll have some here. Barrington met Sarah's eyes for an unnecessarily long time.There was no cunning in her face, but he couldn't shake the impression that she was driving him.They shook hands and said goodbye to each other.He watched her leave his office, walk down the long hallway, and shut himself in the room. His emotions were mixed: excited, restless, wary.He doesn't like anything unexpected or surprising, because such things are professionally dangerous.The only thing that works is turning it in his favor. At twelve forty-five, Ethel, Barrington's secretary, announced that the German banker had arrived and was waiting.Barrington walked across the drawing room to the dining room.He opened the door with a smile on his face and walked in.He was a man of air, a charming host, tall, poised, and confident, but his thoughts often drifted involuntarily from the guest to the tape, to Sarah.Jason. Lunch time is not long.At 2:30, Barrington shook hands with the guests and said goodbye, and walked briskly back to the office.He talked to Ethel, told her that no one should disturb him for half an hour, and told her to find a digital recorder.Ten minutes later, she knocked lightly on the door, walked in with the cassette recorder, and backed out quietly. Barrington put the tape into the cassette compartment, pressed the play button, and leaned back in his chair to listen.Sarah had explained that she had edited the tapes in advance so that all relevant information would fit together on one tape.Of course, it was Jacob who did it, but Sara said nothing about his involvement.She didn't think Barrington would approve, and anyway, she would have liked Jacob not to show up, just in case something went wrong. Barrington listened in silence for fifteen minutes, occasionally pausing the tape recorder to replay snippets that illustrated Arnott's and Vjital's criminal activities.Then he turned off the tape recorder and began to read Sarah's report.He more agrees with her point of view.Although she didn't mention Scarpirato directly, it does appear that he is the third person in the cabal.But he needs to get some real evidence before he can take targeted action against the Italian.Jason should still continue her investigation, to get the evidence of this person, to find out the true identity of the fourth person. Barrington rang the buzzer to summon Ethel and put her through James.Bartrop.Bartrop couldn't find it for a while.Barrington cursed to himself.He was eager to show off his discovery. The two of them got on the phone at ten o'clock that night.Barrington was enjoying a quiet night with his wife, Eileen, in a penthouse suite on the Bank Tower. Sorry to call so late, President.Just got back from a short overseas trip. It doesn't matter.I'm calling because our girl has some very interesting news.It seems that our judgment is correct.Where she works, there has been some anomalous activity, much like what we suspect.She wrote a report that provided hard evidence, preliminary but first-rate. Bartrop felt his pulse beating faster. What kind of real evidence?How did she get it? Barrington paused, phone call, and conversation.She intercepted it. Bartrop's eyes widened.He was silent for a moment, then returned to his careless indifference, originality, your girl. It looks so, doesn't it? You hinted that she could do it.This doesn't sound like a question, but a bit of reproach. Very oblique.I told her the scope of the investigation.What method she thinks is convenient for investigation is her business. Free as a duck into water, right? Um. Any idea where she got the hardware from? Come on, come on, Bartrop.I didn't ask, the less I know about that kind of thing the better.You know this. Bartrop frowned: Shall I send someone over to get that thing?I wish I could see it right away. For a moment, Barrington felt that he was the boss, but he suppressed the impulse: that's hard to say.But I'll send someone over here.where are you? Not without surprise, Barrington wrote down the address.Most of the houses in Chelsea Square are worth more than one million pounds.Anyway, he didn't expect Bartrop to be so rich. Bartrop sat at home and waited.The room was silent except for the rhythmic purring of the cat Trout, who was napping on his lap. He was sitting by the desk in the study, meditating, and beside him was a bottle of aged, low-alcohol, high-end malt whiskey.He could occasionally hear soft voices faintly coming from the garden outside the house.Two guards kill time.He had been under protection for eighteen months, an unwelcome intrusion but a necessary one because he had clashed with members of the Medellin cartel during a protracted covert mission in Colombia .He was probably on their hit list.No one could say for sure, but the friend wanted to minimize the risk, so he was protected twenty-four hours a day and night wherever he went.Those people have a good memory, but his memory is not bad either. Half an hour later, he heard a car pull up and his doorbell rang.He put Trout down and walked down the stairs and through the hall.Through the peephole in the door he saw Munro standing in the doorway with a large envelope in his hand.He opened the door. It's from the Bank of England, sir. Bartrop nodded, took the envelope, and went back to the study.He sat down at the desk again, tore open the yellow brown paper envelope, took out the report, and began to read it. Then he listened to the tape.He thought of Fieri.He can be sure that his train of thought is correct, and Sarah.Jason was on the right track, too, even though she didn't know it yet.He smiled with satisfaction.It was a good start, and he had confirmed the existence of a conspiracy.The unknown fourth person may be Fieri.If this is the case, then the joke can begin. He called Barrington. The material is excellent.As our American cousins ​​say, we made a fortune with this girl.Just let her get on with it, be careful and don't startle the snake.We have yet to establish who the third and fourth persons in this plot are.The third looks like Scarpirato, we just can't be sure yet.Didn't she give any clues about the fourth person? No. If you get a chance, maybe ask her where she got those devices.I know she is sensitive, but I can ask sideways.Maybe she'll say it herself. I will do my best.Barrington grunted. Bartrop thought he should have insisted on having a connector in the first place.If not a vice president, at least someone who is a little bit willing to get their hands dirty.He knew it was too late to make a change. Oh, one last thing.Today is Thursday, Bartrop said.All of this happened on a Monday.Why did it take so long to report to us? I just received it this morning.I don't know what she did before.I think it might be rude to complain about her delay, given her momentous discovery. This is not a complaint, President.Just curious. When Bartrop read the report, Sarah was at her home in Carlyle Square, five minutes away from him.She was lying in a hot tub with the bathroom window wide open.Warm air drifted in, creating flowing steam over the perfumed water.She poured half a bottle of calming, geranium- and lavender-infused body wash into the tub.A candle was lit next to the bathtub, and the flame flickered in the breeze, casting flickering shadows on the wall. She tried to close her mind.She combines three irreconcilable roles of employee, spy and lover.This triple role started to overwhelm her.Both roles may be maintained.She didn't know how long she could hold on like this. Sleeping with Scarpirato ruined her game plan.Right now her energy can barely respond to a few things.She lay in the semi-darkness, looking at the flickering candle shadow, her body soaked in hot water felt a little nervous. She looked at the Swatch waterproof watch.It was eleven o'clock and she was very tired.She stepped out of the bathtub, wiped herself quickly with a towel, and went to bed before her body dried.She put the phone on off.She hadn't said a word to Scarpirato all day.She didn't want to call him, and felt that he wouldn't call her, so she decided not to have any expectations, at least tonight