The Pursuit of Emma - Dave Moyer (top business books of all time .txt) 📗

had chance to speak.

‘I know it’s hard but I need you to be quiet, OK? Don’t say a single word until I am sure we are safe to talk. Nod if you understand.’

I nodded.

I didn’t see Jack for the next five minutes. He carried Rachel into our spare room and closed the door. I assumed he was getting her into bed and hopefully looking for anything that might be suspicious.

He reappeared and smiled weakly. I wasn’t sure exactly what that smile meant and gave him one of my best ‘what is going on here mate’ looks. He smiled again and scribbled ‘spare room is clean’ on the back of my unopened post. Then he carried on carefully checking every item possible for hidden bugs or listening devices. It probably took another quarter of an hour for him to check the whole flat (it’s not the biggest). I watched him work in quiet admiration.

It couldn’t be easy for him either. He was now involved in something he didn’t need to be and must surely be worrying about his own safety as well as Rachel’s. And trying to keep me alive too. But he was handling the situation with as much grace - and methodically reasoning - as I thought possible of anyone.

Jack had still been very new in the force when I moved to London and I rarely, if ever, got to see him at work. Now the training had kicked in and I could see why he had progressed up the ladder so quickly. He was excellent.

It is a strange feeling when you get to see someone you used to crawl about in sandpits with, working and shining as a full adult. You get a sudden wave of emotion. First, you get a nostalgic stabbing, as if your childhood really is over and you can never go back. Then you feel an immense sense of pride at what they have achieved and the person they are becoming. Well, I certainly felt all those emotions that night.

After what seemed like an eternity Jack spoke.

‘OK. We’re all safe...for now!’

I breathed a sigh of relief and slid a cup of coffee in Jack’s direction. He sat down opposite me at the table and smiled again. I felt protected and the more he smiled the more I felt it.

‘I’ve looked everywhere and I would bet my life that they have never been in this house. Nothing has been touched.’

‘Are you sure? I tidied up loads last night. Maybe I hid their tracks a bit or something?’

Jack nodded as if knowing I was going to say that.

‘I know you did, but there are certain things that don’t get tidied away. All the markings are consistent with your ‘cleaning’. Bugs have to be placed on certain items and within certain distances of each other to be effective. Trust me; we are safe here at the moment. I can’t guarantee the same for any of our phones though so be careful.’

‘OK Jack, thanks.’

‘It’s what I do.’ He took a sip of the coffee and immediately looked like he wanted to spit it out. He forced it down and got up to make himself a fresh one. ‘Gone cold,’ he explained.

I waited as patiently as I could, avoiding the temptation to drum my fingers on the table. I was really grateful for all his help but finally could wait no longer.

‘Jack, what do you know?’

He sipped his fresh coffee and held up a finger indicating he would be right back, before jogging into the spare room. He came out with his shoulder-bag and returned to his place at the table.

‘OK Tom, it’s a lot to take in. So I’m going to start at the beginning and tell you as much as I know. Then you are going to have to help fill in the gaps if you can. Let me talk first alright?’

I agreed, eager to finally know something. It felt like for the first time in weeks, I might be able to answer one or two of my thousands of questions.

‘So after I left you, I headed straight back to the station and ran her name through the system like you asked and nothing came up.’

‘So that’s good right?’

‘No it’s not. You see, most people have some history we can trace people with. I opened up the search as much as possible and nothing. Running your name through it there are a few sentences about late payments for parking tickets and whatever which is normal. But with her, I could find nothing,’ he stated matter-of-factly.

‘So I ran her parents names, Terry and Louise right? Tried every different spelling I could think of and still nothing. It is possible for one person to lead a perfectly clean life and never appear on our systems but three members from one family? Impossible.’

I wanted to intervene and question what all this meant but I bit my tongue and allowed Jack to continue.

‘This made it hard. Technically there was nothing else I could do. Luckily for you though, I found the number for Stevie Cram. Remember him?’

‘No,’ I replied truthfully.

‘Well, he was my superior at Warwick for a while. We got on great and I covered for him several times. Anyway, he got transferred to London and has been doing pretty well down here, so I gave him a call.’

‘Why?’ I couldn’t help myself asking, even though I was sure Jack was going to tell me if I hadn’t interrupted him.

‘Because, London has all the money. Everything is worse here right? Crimes are much bigger in the big cities and the resources the force have here are much larger to combat that. Also if Emma was born here they are more likely to have something on her, right?’

I nodded silently, feeling slightly embarrassed for not working that out myself.

‘You’re right. Sorry mate, carry on.’

‘So I asked Stevie to do everything he can to find any kind of lead. And guess what? He found nothing. Literally nothing.’ He let the thought hang for a second, as if trying to get across just how serious this was.

‘At first he just came back and apologised, saying he couldn’t find anything. But after some gentle persuasion he agreed to try again. Said he knew somebody and he would follow a hunch.’

‘So then what?’

‘Well nothing for a while. I didn’t hear back from him for about twenty-four hours. Then he phoned. And it all fell into place.’

‘He found something?’

‘Yes. I felt like kicking myself when he told me. I had tried every possible spelling of Emma and Sharpe and Jordan and anything else I could think of. But think about it. She faked her job, she faked the wedding, God knows what else right? So why would Emma Jordan be her really name?’

The thought hit me like a bucket of ice. I knew she had lied, but somewhere deep down, I hoped she could explain it. I thought deep down I knew her, but it was looking like I didn’t even know her name.

‘You see, if you change your name you do if for a reason. Normally to cover up something illegal. It’s not as easy as you think. Faking documents is expensive, detailed work. Not something you just do on a whim. This was planned and arranged.’

Jack stopped for a second. He could see how painful it was for me to hear all of this and seeing his friend upset was weakening his police force resolve. He waited for my eyes to meet his and gave a tentative look, as if asking if I was alright. I nodded, faked a small smile and asked him to carry on.

‘We’d been searching for Ems like a civilian, not a criminal. But if she had changed her name there was a good chance she had done something wrong. So Stevie had opened up the search to include criminal activities with somebody possibly under the identity of ‘Emma Jordan.’ And nothing...

‘Nothing? I thought you said you found something?’ I spluttered.

‘Wait, let me finish. So Stevie phoned me back the second time and still hadn’t found anything. We agreed, with regret, to give up. She was a ghost and according to our files, never existed. Then a couple of hours later he phones back. Says he has just received a call from an agent in Barcelona. This is where it gets interesting...’

‘Go on then, what?’

‘So, this agent phones up Steve and demands to know why he has been searching the name ‘Emma Jordan’ through the files. Stevie is trapped and doesn’t really know how much he can tell the agent so he passes my number on to him. Then he called me to give me the heads up. About five minutes after that I get a call from a detective in Barcelona asking me the same question. Apparently they have been looking for someone who has been known to go under the pseudonym of Emma Jordan and get alerts if her name appears on the system. I asked them what their suspect looked like and guess what they said?’

‘Blond hair, blue eyes, unbelievably beautiful?’ I guessed.

‘You got it. I made up some nonsense about looking for a different one but managed to convince the agent to send over everything he has on his suspect. It took a lot of doing but he seemed desperate to catch her and was willing to do anything that might turn up leads. I promised to let him know if I heard anything and hung up.’

‘Thanks mate,’ I said weakly. I’m not really sure why I said thanks. To be honest, I still hadn’t processed any of the information. So, that was that. Emma (or whoever she was) was a criminal. I guess I knew that before - it was the only logical conclusion - but I still couldn’t believe it. But that wasn’t why I had thanked him. I think the truth behind it was that I was scared for her. I heard a detective wanted to catch her and instead of being glad, I was worried. I wanted to help her, if you can believe it. And Jack had, at least for the moment, covered the fact she was in London. I was sure it was illegal and could get Jack in a lot of trouble. I wanted him to know how much it meant to me.

‘Thanks,’ I breathed again. ‘Seriously, you went out of your way so much for me. I really appreciate it. And now I’ve got you involved in God knows what and it’s all for no good and...

‘Stop,’ Jack commanded. ‘I love you mate, you know that. You’ve been like a brother to me since forever. You know that. I’ve got your back. If you’re involved in something, I want to be, OK? And don’t worry about me, I can look after myself. And we will sort it all out, I promise.’

I believed him. I smiled at him in stunned awe and thanked him again. We sat there in silence for a second, trying to understand our own thoughts. Eventually I spoke.

‘OK, go on then. What has she done?’ It hit me that I knew she was a criminal but had no idea what crimes she had done. I knew it had to be pretty bad to just disappear like she did, but what was it? God, what if it was murder? No it couldn’t be, could it?

‘It’s a lot mate. I’ll let you read for yourself.’ He opened his shoulder bag, pulled out a thick folder and slid it across the table at me. ‘Take your time. I’ll go and check on Rach.’

‘What about the note? The bullet?’

‘We’ll work it out. Read through it mate and then we’ll talk.’

Jack stood up, downed the rest of his drink and slipped off quietly to see his wife.

So here it was. Since Emma left I had juggled thousands of questions without answering them. All I had to do was turn the page and read. But I couldn’t. The second I turned