Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Eight

By seven o'clock Sarah was dressed: jeans, a white T-shirt, and her favorite but well-worn Jemberland boots.These jeans, which used to be too tight, are now loose.She threaded the belt through the loops of her trousers and tightened it. It was still hot in the street outside.She also felt hot and uncomfortable after watching it.Her boots squeaked on the marble tiles as she entered the kitchen.She poured plenty of ice into the goblet, then the whiskey, and drank it down in two or three gulps.Then she poured in some more whiskey, and sipped it slowly while watching the melting ice cubes. At seven fifteen, the phone rang three times.Sarah withdrew her outstretched hand.The recording transponder is on.The speaker's voice is soft and firm, with a slight American accent, and it is Christina.The clicking sound on the phone means she is calling from a public phone booth. It was a pleasure to meet you today. Hope to meet up soon, maybe find a time to have a drink or two.This is a code word agreed upon by both parties.After she finished speaking, she hung up the phone.

Sarah put down the phone, rewound the tape, and erased the previous recording. She let the tape continue for a few seconds, and what remained behind was a previous recording. Hearing the very familiar, stammering voice above, she was startled, and the muscles on her face couldn't help twitching.It was a message Dante had sent her before, asking her to call him back, saying he missed her and hoped to see her soon.She felt sick to her stomach, and the hot whiskey rolled from her stomach to her mouth.She slammed her fist against the stop button, nearly smashing the phone.She pressed the rewind button with trembling fingers and listened to his recording again, only feeling heartbroken and guilty.She erased his recording, and also erased her doubts.

She took her coat and baseball cap off the coat rack and went over to turn off the radio.A familiar song drifted into her ears.What was playing was Suicide Blonde, played by the Inks Rock Band.She laughed, and the laughter echoed in the empty room.She turned off the radio and went out the door. A few hundred yards away, Christina stepped out of the phone booth and hurried down Main Street.She made her way through the hustle and bustle of the King's Road without anyone paying particular attention to her.If anyone looked at her, it was just looking at her.There's not much they can remember: a blonde with a fit body and maybe a pretty face.But it's hard to tell, because she's wearing a baseball cap with the brim pulled down so low that her face is hidden.She didn't show off.She was not walking aimlessly, nor was she hiding.She looked ahead without squinting, without wanting to provoke other people's admiring gazes.Unobtrusive, unremarkable, unobstructed, that's what she liked.She turned the corner and walked toward the white pickup.

The car was parked in a side street across Chelsea Green Road, about ten minutes' walk from where she lived.It was a plumber's Ford van, and it was so thick with dust that I needed someone to write on it with their fingers and clean it for me.Except that the glass is colored, there is nothing special about it.It's an ordinary white Ford van that you see on the streets every day. This is Daniel.Korda had been ordered to steal it six months earlier.He put a fresh coat of paint on it and changed the license plate to have the exact same number as another car that someone else had registered so it was a legitimate van.He sold it to Christina and called it a temporary spare.

Christina didn't touch it once in half a year, just to see if it was still there.She kept it for such a use.She put the key in the lock and turned it, opened the door, and got into the car.She locked the backpack she carried with her in the glove box.In one of her plastic bags was a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and the exact same pair of sneakers she was wearing now.She put the plastic bag on the passenger seat, fastened her seat belt, said a quick prayer, and turned the key in the ignition.The car started right away.She looked in the mirror, she didn't want to wreck the car, and started the car cautiously.

She drove through Chelsea, onto the less-trafficked Earls Court Street, turned left onto tree-lined Cromwell Street, and onto the Four Freeway.When she passed Heathrow Airport, there were many large passenger planes flying over the airport.Twenty minutes later, the factories and big shops were far behind, and there was a country scene: hedged fields and farmhouses.She drove in silence, thinking of nothing but the road ahead. She turned off the highway at Junction Fourteen and onto a narrow winding country road.The hills of Upper Lamben lay before her eyes.Retired thoroughbred horses roam freely in the field, and children riding ponies walk slowly on the winding country roads.The hay drying in the field exudes a burst of fragrance.This is the second time grass has been mowed from this fertile soil this year.

She turned onto an unsigned side road.The pickup truck bumped up and down on the uneven path, and the stones on the road were splashed around by the wheels.Five minutes later, she turned the car onto a dusty, little-traveled trail used by the Forestry Commission. She drove slowly up a rolling field of coniferous trees.The pigeon perched on the tree was startled by the truck, flapped its wings and flew into the sky. She took the backpack out of the tool box, opened the car door, and stepped onto the soft ground covered with pine needles.She looked around first, then stood still for a few minutes, listening.She's alone here.Those startled pigeons returned to the tree they had just perched on, their chirping gradually turned into intermittent cooing.Satisfied, she locked the door and walked on through the grove.

She came out of the small coniferous forest and strode over the uneven ground as if it were level.The only ones watching her fade away were the pigeons.They probably thought she was an evening excursion. The afterglow of the setting sun through the pine trees painted the world red and gold, and it also shone on the face of Christina who appeared and disappeared in this maze.As she walked, the trees became denser, and she was almost hidden.Half an hour later, she felt as if she had become an invisible person. In the depths of the dense forest, the light dimmed.She looked at her watch.It would be dark in less than an hour, and she quickened her pace, time was running out.The light grew dimmer and she finally came to the edge of the woods.

The trees gradually thinned out, and a small valley appeared in front of my eyes.Its center was about a mile away, in a large stone house.The only indication that there were people inside were two Mercedes parked at the top of the circular drive in front of the house.One of them was a black sedan and the other was a red convertible. Christina smiled to herself and walked towards the house down the hill. Carl.Heinz.Kessler is sitting in the study of his country house counting money.In front of him are stacks of banknotes sealed in plastic bags, each stack of 10,000 pounds.He counted fifty stacks and put them on the table.He seemed to be doing a tiresome but necessary job, but there was no irritability in his face.Sitting here counting money like a bank teller, waiting for someone from Catania to come, is not pleasant.

Catania's instructions were very clear: no one else could see the man he sent but him.His wife is still in Frankfurt and would like to stay with her natal family for a few more days, so she is not a problem.He put the staff off for the night, sent them to Lambon for a meal, and put the money on his account, in order to keep them out of the house.It was disgusting to do such a thing, but it had to be at a time like this.Catania said a friend had already helped them deal with Sarah.Jason's question requires a payment of one million pounds as a reward.He asked Kessler if he could fix the problem.The rest of the money, he Catania will settle in Rome.It's fair and reasonable for Kessler to pay a portion, isn't it?

Kessler agreed, but on condition that Matthew.Arnott also had to pay a portion.He turned to Arnott, who was standing behind him nervously watching him count the money. Now it's your turn. Arnott picked up a briefcase at his feet and placed it on the desk in front of Kessler.Kessler opened it with a smile.Inside was a box full of banknotes, ten thousand pounds each, all bound with paper tape.Kessler started counting.After counting fifty stacks, he closed the briefcase and returned it to Arnott. Don't be so sad.Either way, you've earned it. What is a mournful face?What should I look like?Arnott asked, you sit there and think everything will be fine.Not at all.It's bloody scary.How do you think we'll be all right?The police have come to me five times, each time asking the same question. Kessler turned around from his chair and fixed his eyes on Arnott.Arnott waved his hand in the air. Don't worry, I play by the rules.I don't have any abnormalities.But I've had enough.I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and I really wanted to go back to the United States and leave. Don't be a fucking fool, Kessler growled, this is what they want.He stared at Arnott and said, you have to stay in the bank, behave like a diligent staff member, do your job well, and don't let Kara go out of line.Enjoy your money.If I can't erase this memory after two years and want to go back to the United States, it's not too late to go then.Now you have to hold your breath.For God's sake, don't blame everyone. Kessler stood up and sat on the edge of the desk, facing Arnott.His tone softened, but the corners of his mouth were tensed, and he spoke plausibly. What else do you want?Since being Sarah.From the day Jason found out, it was inevitable.All this was necessary only because of her.Catania saw this.I agree with him.It is too late to cringe now.How much did you get, Matthew?thirty million.High risk high reward.This is the banker's motto.Don't stare at me like I'm a devil.I am fifty-five years old and one of the most reputable bankers in the City.I have everything I want now.Do you think I'll let it go down the drain?Let Sarah.Did Jason, Scarpirato or Matsumoto ruin it?He leaned in front of Arnott, we had to do it, we had to kill them.Catania made a move, and we reap the rewards.If he hadn't done it, I would have done it without hesitation. Arnott looked at him in horror and anxiety, and was speechless for a moment, unable to speak a word.He turned and sat down in a chair next to Kessler's desk. But Sarah.Jason isn't dead, is he?She might as well shake it all out.Then we'd be charged with murder. Kessler snorted: Jason wouldn't say it.I won't tell you the details, but she has a deal with Catania. Arnott looked at Kessler blankly.Kessler smiled and said: You can't be wrong if you believe me.Jason wasn't a problem anymore.She may have gone into hiding somewhere, or she may have had a nervous breakdown, and we may never hear from her again. Kessler looked at his watch: You can go now, the courier will be here in a while. Arnott stood up. Oh, Matthew, for God's sake, don't be so sluggish.It's all up to us now.If you calm down, there will be no further complications. Arnott nodded, then left and went out.He got into the red Mercedes and drove away. He did not see the woman crouching under a large rhododendron in the garden thirty yards away. Kessler bundled stacks of banknotes and put them into a plastic bag, then closed the door of the study, stepped on the wooden floor with both feet, and walked forward along the long aisle.When he passed a mirror, he stopped consciously to look at his own face.Just then, the floor behind him creaked.The smile on his face froze suddenly. He turned around in horror.In the aisle stood a woman with blond hair and fair skin, a strong body wrapped in a tight T-shirt.She wears a baseball cap on her head, which makes her look a little more scary.If it weren't for the murderous look on her face, she would still be pretty.There was sarcasm and contempt on the corner of her mouth, and the look in her eyes was very cold.She seemed indifferent to everything around her, only interested in him.She looked at him, staring at him like a weapon aimed at him.However, the most indifferent thing was her lips and the cold smile hanging on them.He couldn't see what kind of smile it was.It looked partly hateful, and partly sympathetic.He had rarely felt fear before, but now he had a taste of it.He felt the creeps.As always, he took an offensive-for-defensive approach. who are you?How did you get in?he asked sharply.His voice echoed in the hallway.Christina still had that smile on her face. Oh, just slipped in through the front door.It's you who didn't close it.It's rare for you to be so thoughtful.Her voice was not high, and her voice was full of contempt.Her hostility was still palpable. Kessler didn't say anything, and he felt more and more nervous.The usual arrogance was gone at this moment, and he began to sweat.Sweat was showing on his pink City shirt.This woman is a bad comer.He looked at his watch.Catania's messenger is coming soon.No one could see him with the messenger.Miraculously, he began to panic.He felt the absurdity himself, so he lost his temper again.Why should he be afraid?He stepped forward, in the woman's direction. Christina lowered her face and said sharply: "Stand still."I'm not done yet.There was authority in her voice.He stopped, momentarily bewildered. Your little contract, yours, and Catania's, isn't finished yet, is it?Kessler turned his head slightly to one side, his eyes wide open.He seemed to recognize her.Are you a messenger? Christina laughed, Messenger?She figured it was probably a little joke from Catania, the messenger, the messenger yeah, if you think so. Kessler's raised shoulders relax, why don't you explain?Listen, I've got the money ready.He held up the plastic bag, take it.He began to return to normal, with obvious arrogance in his tone. Oh I will take it.But I have something to tell you first. Kessler was puzzled. As I said just now, the contract has not yet been executed.Sarah.Jason wasn't dead yet. Kessler got a little impatient: Yes, I already knew that.But I don't think she's a problem anymore. Christina sneered and said sarcastically: On the contrary, she helped a lot.The smile on her face was gone.Her voice had become deathly soft, and her contract had been terminated.It was replaced by a new contract.She took a step forward, this time to your contract.She saw sweat dripping down his face deformed by fear. Can we talk, you are probably mistaken. She sneered sarcastically: No, Carl.Heinz, you are mistaken.You think you're smart, don't you?You and Catania are complicit.Well, I didn't want to tell you, Sarah.Jason is smarter than you.You killed her best friend and her colleagues, and you want her life. Do you really think she will spare you? I didn't kill them. Yes, you didn't kill it.It's me, and I'm doing it neatly.But it's one thing.Both you and Catania wanted to kill them, so hired killers.If not me, it will be someone else.From Jensen's perspective, it's you and Catania who pull the trigger. Christina pulled the gun out of her back and pointed it at Kessler's head.He raised his hands and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.She held the gun in both hands and pulled the trigger mercilessly.The bullet flew into Kessler's forehead.The mirror behind him was instantly dyed red.He fell to the ground and died instantly. Christina walked over to his bloodied corpse and looked down.There was a lot of blood.Every time there is so much blood, and the bloody smell, and it is always the bloody smell of the prehistoric era, which makes people feel exciting.The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The plastic bag was next to his body, and the banknotes in it were about to fall out.Bright red blood flowed towards it.She picked it up with gloved hands.She took out her backpack, put the pistol in it, and put the money in it.Panting heavily, she walked down the aisle from the back door to the outside. She wanted to run, but she didn't.She crossed the gravel drive to the wooden fence, stepped over it, and walked across the narrow clearing to the woods. The grove stood like a wall in front of her.From a distance of two hundred yards it was featureless, but seemed impassable.It was getting dark and it was difficult to find the way.She quickened her pace, and then began to trot.Branches slapped her in the face, and she fell twice, with skin cuts and knees on roots and stones, but she felt no pain. She was drenched in sweat as she approached the clearing where she parked.She stopped in the bushes, calming her rough panting.She looked into the darkness, but there was nothing in the clearing.She ran to the van, put down her backpack, took out the keys, opened the back door of the van, put the backpack in, took out the money, and counted out 400,000 pounds.She put the plastic money bag into the other bag, and put it with her own backpack under a pile of old newspapers.She locked the car door, hurried to the driver's door, jumped into the car, and drove away in a hurry. Christina looked at her bloody knee and cursed loudly.These pants are going to be burned.There was nothing she could do about the torn pieces and the blood on the roots and stones in the woods.Maybe it will rain heavily and wash away the blood.She looked at the clear sky and frowned. She drove from Lamben to a secluded farmhouse in Sussex.This is Daniel.Korda's farmhouse.She parked the car in front of the farmhouse.Daniel heard the motor of the car and the sound of the wheels on the gravel, and came out to meet her.He raised his eyebrows and looked at her questioningly.She nodded at him. All is well.She took out her backpack, took out the Browning and the Ruger that killed Dante, put them in a plastic bag, and handed them to Korda. Get rid of them. Korda took the bag and nodded.From under the old newspaper she took the bag containing the four hundred thousand pounds. this is for you. He smiled, thanked her politely, and took the money and the gun into his home and locked them in his safe.Then he came out, drove the van into the garage, and locked the garage door. After entering the house, Christina put on all the outfit she had brought, put the original clothes and sneakers into a plastic bag, and handed the plastic bag to Daniel when he came in. Please burn them. He nodded, and took the bag outside into a hut.He lit the incinerator in the cabin.Christina followed in and stood behind him.When he opened the oven door, she felt a rush of heat and saw an amber flame inside.She watched him put his clothes and shoes in there.He closed the oven door and led her into another cabin where a red Ford Mondeo was parked.He handed her the car keys and watched her drive the car and disappear into the night. Tomorrow he'll take the van to a friend's used car yard.It will turn into scrap iron with a volume of one foot square.The car that served as a clue to a murder will never exist. Sarah.It wasn't ten o'clock when Jason got home.She wandered across Carlyle Square, breathing the evening air freely.She likes this hot summer night, this long-lasting sky, the fragrance of flowers and trees, the dust on the road, and the crackling sound of automobile exhaust. She thinks all these are so intoxicating.She stopped at the door of her own house, and a neighbor's tomcat named Mickey came out of the garden and was friendly to her.It lay down on the ground, then rolled from side to side, and immediately raised a small amount of dust.Sara smiled and bent down to stroke it twice.It stood up triumphantly and rubbed around her legs affectionately.After five minutes, she pushed the cat away, said good-bye to it, and walked into her own door.Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a car parked at the corner of the square with a man sitting in it. She didn't cause much trouble to her watchers this evening.She walked first in Battersea Park, among the people who jogged, played cricket, football, walked and bowls in the park after dark.Then she went back to the King's Road, went to the Europa store on the corner of Old Church Road, bought some magazines, and then took the bought "Clothing", "Vanity Fair", "Economist" magazines to the red restaurant, ready to eat deliciously. a dinner.Two people who watched her also entered the restaurant and two women.They were about her age, chatting and laughing, but not so freely.They are waiting in line for a seat.Sarah sat flipping through magazines while her two watchers, after a predictably discreet and predictable argument with the waiter, moved to a seat three tables away from her. The waiter walked up to Sarah and handed her a menu.Sara took her time reading the menu, began to order, and then changed two.She drank a delicious bouillabaisse, followed by a glass of champagne and half a bottle of red wine, and ate grilled steak and French fries while drinking. She sat at the table and pretended to read a magazine while she ate.Her mind was still in a mess and she couldn't figure it out.Her thoughts are ups and downs, difficult to control, and difficult to calm down.She thought about Eddie and Alex.For the first time in a long time, she thought of them.What to tell them about what happened?What do you say?There is nothing to say.She didn't want to involve them, they were leading completely different lives now.It was too early to think about them, and it would interfere with her thoughts at this time. She thought of Christina.Should she deal with her?Should you trust her?From the standpoint of logic and common sense it shouldn't.But her hunch was that it would work. Christina was right.She needs friends, no matter how unorthodox, and Christina can help her.Sarah wondered what she was doing now, and what she might do with the information she had given her.That was valuable information, but was it worth giving it to her?Who is it good for? She has acted as a catalyst.Now she can do nothing but wait.As for whether to trust Christina, she has her own insurance measures: she has left a package for Jacob and Jack.If there was a reason to kill Kessler and Catania, there was a reason to keep her alive. But she'd have to wait a while for proof, proof of blood.She sighed deeply.She didn't like to moan like this, but there was no other way.If she hadn't miscalculated, at least this time someone was doing justice.Is it good or bad to do so?she does not know.But one thing she knew, this time she couldn't do it herself. She broke off her reverie and called the waiter to pay the bill, raising her voice so high that her watchers could hear her.She paid the check deliberately in a leisurely way so as not to catch the two of them off guard.She tipped generously and said good-bye to a few waiters who were standing there.Her approach was very different from that of Christina, and what she was trying to do was to impress anyone who saw her that night with her performance.If needed in the future, this group of people can provide her testimony. When she entered the house, the big clock in the hallway had just struck ten o'clock.She went into her bedroom, lay on the bed, turned on the TV, switched to the ten o'clock news channel, and heard the end of the opening song.She was about to put the pillow away when she suddenly turned to face the TV screen. Giancarlo Giancarlo, President of the Bank of Italy.Catania was assassinated.Still receiving the latest reports.Catania, his wife and two friends were leaving a restaurant in Rome when two people on a motorcycle rushed towards them and the person in the back shot him.Catania was shot several times and died on the spot.His bodyguards returned fire, killing the gunman and seriously wounding the motorcyclist.The bodyguard recognized the driver.The person is being rescued at the hospital under police custody.As usual, the mafia is suspected, but so far there has been no indication as to why the president of Catania was shot Sara didn't listen to what was said afterwards, she sat quite still.She was horrified, stunned, sick.Hour after hour, her shock gradually eased, and her nervousness relaxed.Was it her carefully considered words that became the fuse of this matter?Was it because of what she said, or was it a coincidence?She doesn't know.Still, if her guesses and suspicions were right, Catania wouldn't be the only one to die. It was midnight when Christina got home.She was tired and tired.She called Fieri first, and as soon as he spoke, she knew something was wrong.He cursed, angrily asked her to read the newspaper, and told her to go on vacation.She told him she had done a neat job and asked him what was wrong on the other end.He first praised her for doing a good job, but he seemed disapproving in his voice.He said he was in a meeting and had to go, but then added that she had done a good job, said it was business as usual, and hung up. Christina turned on the TV and couldn't wait to switch channels.At twelve o'clock at midnight, she watched the news program of the cable news network.Catania was assassinated.The killer was killed, but his accomplice had been captured.Christina began to feel jittery.Will he confess?Will it become soft bone?This danger was unacceptable to her.Quickly and methodically, she began packing her suitcases. She had a hiding place in Rio that she had bought four years ago in case of such an eventuality.When she was done tidying up, she went to take a shower and let the hot water run on her for a long time.When she was dressed, she poured a large glass of brandy and sat quietly in the darkness of her study, thinking about her next move.She will fly to Rio, the earliest flight is not until tomorrow night.She stayed up all night, anxiously waiting, constantly following the news reports. The arrest of the motorcyclist is indeed a big deal.His name is Caesar.Romagna is Fieri's confidant and a veteran. He has done several very sensitive assassinations and once cooperated with Christina.It wasn't impossible that if he confessed it would be the end of her and Fieri.She hoped that he would rather die than recruit, and she also hoped that Fieri would send someone to kill him.Fieri might as well try, because he has nothing to lose by doing so.This is probably why he had a meeting in the middle of the night. Christina thought, I don't know Sarah.How would Jason feel when he heard the news.She is unknown.She couldn't get in touch with her or risk getting burned.Anyway, Jensen was also a curse.She has shown that she enjoys playing this dangerous game.Collaborating has served her well so far.They struck a deal, and the situation was clearly in Christina's favour.Jason provided information, why?She only vaguely promised to help if she was needed.Her message set off a chain of events that unfolded within hours.This means millions of pounds to Christina, but now Fieri may not pay her as much.High returns are due to high risks, she understands this and accepts it.But at this time she felt that the deal was a loss.Sarah.Jason did a better job than her. Jason was eager to avenge those two people, and now they are both unlucky, but she herself did not take any risks.Well, Jensen didn't know at the time that the information she provided would elicit such a bloody reaction so quickly.It is also impossible for her to know whether Christina will kill her immediately after she tells the secret.What she took was a risk with mixed success.As far as she's concerned, it's been worth it.But things have changed.What are Jason's interests now? Christina thought to herself, if there is a chance at that time, should I kill Jason? It's too late to do anything now.Anyway, she thought Jason was a great threat.There are still coincidences in their interests: reticence, great discretion, telling a few lies when necessary.She is in Sarah.Jason saw a strong instinct for self-preservation.Because of this, her faithfulness is beyond doubt. Christina heard a faint sound outside the window.She put down the wine in her hand and listened quietly.The voice became louder, and a smile appeared on her face: It turned out that it was raining, and it was raining heavily, so the blood, rubbed off skin, and torn pieces of cloth on the trousers would all be washed away by the heavy rain clean