‘How suitable?’ said Jane, with a swiftness that surprised even her.
‘Considerably more than you are remunerated at the moment, I am certain,’ he said, attempting a joke.
‘And if I don’t want to? What will you do to me then? Kill me?’
‘Dear lady, nothing like that. We’re not monsters. Just businesspeople making money. We’ll simply deposit a large sum of money into your bank account and leave you to try to explain it away at your trial.’
‘You mean from this moment on, I’m as implicated as the rest of you,’ said Jane, flatly.
‘Well, yes, obviously.’
‘I won’t accept the money.’
He tapped at a sleek scratchpad. ‘Too late. That is your bank account, I believe?’ He showed the screen to Jane, whose eyes bulged at the new balance. ‘So, Luke – are you in or out?’
‘Fifteen per cent,’ said Luke, who could never be accused of not learning from past mistakes.
‘Agreed,’ said Mr Geoffrey. ‘But I would council you against pushing things too far, Mr Parrish.’
‘No need,’ said Luke cheerfully. ‘I’ve got what I want. What about you, Jane?’
She hung back. ‘I don’t know. I’d like to think about it.’
‘Again, my dear. Too late. I suspect that, even now, an astonished bank clerk is staring at the really very generous stipend we’ve just paid you. May I advise you to accept gracefully and just go with the flow.’
Jane closed her eyes – a picture of indecision – and then sighed and opened them, injecting a newer, stronger note into her voice.
‘Of course I’ll do it. Have you any idea what it’s like nannying morons with more privilege than sense through their pointless lives? Watching them drop more at the gambling tables in one night than I earn in a year? Listening to them talking about themselves for hour after hour after endless hour? About how difficult their lives are? About their perceived problems? None of which involve how they’re going to pay the rent at the end of the month. It’s all about how Daddy’s a money-obsessed megalomaniac and Mummy’s a drug-addled wreck? Or the other way around,’ she added, in the interests of equality. ‘And nothing is ever their fault? Do you know how hard it is not to slap them senseless ten times a day? Try holding me back from making myself some decent money.’
Luke blinked. ‘Think you and I need a quick chat when we get home, Jane.’
‘Fire truck that, Parrish. We’re equals now. Pay someone else to listen to your incessant whining.’
‘Well, who’d have thought?’ said Bolshy Jane. ‘Well done, you.’
Luke appeared genuinely shocked. ‘Jane . . .’
‘What?’ She wheeled on him.
He stepped back. ‘Nothing.’
Jane nodded towards the door. ‘We need to get our bracelets back. I’ll tell the clinic we’ve been swimming and then the spa, but they’ve been a couple of hours without movement and it’ll show up somewhere.’
‘Of course,’ said Mr Geoffrey. ‘This way.’
Luke gestured around. ‘So this – all of this – is actually genuine.’
‘Oh yes. We are exactly who we say we are.’
As they exited the pod bay, the captain detained Jane briefly. ‘Thank you for your assistance. Your handling of Terence was spot on.’
‘It’s my job,’ said Jane, modestly. ‘And I don’t want to criticise in any way, but I do think some sort of discreet psychological evaluation might be useful in future.’
‘Well,’ the captain said, ‘I always think you have to be a little bit bonkers to do this in the first place, but I shall certainly recommend it. Again, thank you.’
‘I’m sure you would have had Terence well in hand without me.’
‘It’s kind of you to say so, but most of my time would probably have been occupied with preventing Pennyroyal solving the problem by shooting him.’
Jane blinked. ‘Well, in that case, I was very happy to help.’
‘Yes, good work with the notebook.’
‘Thank you, but his academic nature didn’t take long to reassert itself, did it?’
‘No. I’ve often noticed how one’s true employment reveals itself in a crisis, haven’t you?’
Jane stared.
She smiled. ‘Sober counsellor? Dealing with unstable people?’
Jane stared. A rabbit exposed in car headlights. ‘Oh. Yes.’
The first officer appeared at her elbow. ‘Captain Smallhope, we need to upload the cargo for the afternoon drop.’
‘Yes, of course. Coming now.’
Luke called to Jane from the door. When she looked back, both first officer and captain had melted away.
They were escorted back to the waiting room. The other customers had long since departed. Their belongings were ready for them on the table. There was an expectant pause as they slipped on their bracelets and then Luke said to Mr Geoffrey, ‘Well, I’m very happy to promote you. In fact, I’m quite enthusiastic. I know loads of people who’d be interested. And would happily pay for the privilege.’ He stopped for a moment, looking thoughtful. ‘In fact, if an opportunity presents itself, I might not mind reinvesting some of my own commission.’
Mr Geoffrey beamed. His teeth gleamed like a supernova. Jane could feel her retinas shrivel. ‘Excellent, Luke. I shall certainly talk to some people about that. Now, initially, we’d like you to spend some time socialising. At which you are so good. Just chat generally – it’s very important you say nothing too specific at this early stage. Just pass on the names of anyone you think might be interested. We’ll carry out suitable checks, of course, both personal and financial, and if they pass muster, then we’ll ask you to introduce us – and that really is all you have to do. As you can see – no risk to you whatsoever.’
Jane was thinking – had this been Eric Portman’s role? As another young, rich, single man he would have been ideal. Were they considering replacing Eric Portman with Luke? Or were they still unaware of Imogen’s betrayal and Luke was simply a normal addition to the team? Hay would almost certainly have people on Portman at this moment. If they – whoever they were – had associated Nuñez and Klein with Eric and Imogen then Eric might no longer be alive. What happened to people who were no longer useful to them?
Luke nodded. ‘But – and I don’t think you can blame me for wanting absolute confirmation – you really do . . .’