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

I told her. It was nice to be completely open with her. I wasn’t going to at first but she deserved to know. She was in this and I wanted to bounce some ideas off her. I told her about the Kozlovs and how much I worried about Emma, and how I was going to find her without getting the police involved. Sophie was perfect throughout. She never once interrupted, save for the odd gasp of astonishment, and let me get it all out. I loved her for that.

‘So now I know this is a message and if I can just find out what this key is for, I can find her. I know I can,’ I finished, exhausted by my efforts.

‘Wow Tom, you sure as hell have an exciting life! Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police? They might be able to help.’

‘No, definitely not,’ I replied, firmly. ‘Jack will help anyway he can, but I can’t risk it. If the police catch up with the Kozlovs they would have no reason to keep Emma alive and that is the only hope I’m clinging on to.’

She nodded with understanding.

‘So now I just have to find what this key is for,’ I muttered, holding it up to show Sophie.

She paused silently and stared at the key. She stood up and rushed to her bag. ‘I know what that is!’ she shouted, rummaging through all her possessions.

‘Shit! You do?’ I replied, buzzing with adrenaline.

She pulled out her set of keys and held them up, showing off one key that looked identical to Emma’s. I took them from her and held them together. They were the same.

‘Oh my god, this is it! What is this key for?’

‘About six months ago Emma came to see me and we chatted. She mentioned she wanted somewhere to store her stuff. Important stuff. Well a couple of years ago, when things with David got bad, he started messing with my things. Items that had real sentimental value. I wanted to hide them and someone told me to get a locker somewhere. You could pay a pound and keep the key, knowing your stuff is safe somewhere in London. Somewhere no one would ever find it. It was quite a cool, romantic idea to me and Emma agreed. I never asked her if she did it in the end. I guess she did.’

‘So where is this locker?’ I begged, almost bursting with intrigue. I needed to know with every fibre of my being.

Sophie smiled at me softly and spoke.

‘Victoria Station.’ Chapter Twelve

‘I always miss out on the good stuff!’

This was beginning to feel achievable. Since the day she left Emma had been like a ghost to me, always just out of reach. But I could feel her near me again.

Victoria Station. As soon as Sophie had uttered the words I was up on my feet and ready to go. It was only early afternoon and I could be there soon. I could follow Emma’s trail of clues all the way to her.

‘Thank you so much Sophie, you have no idea how much this has helped me,’ I said, hugging her as tightly as she had done earlier and making for the door.

‘Wait, are you going there now?’

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘Well... can I come?’

I thought quickly to myself. Why not? I would love the company and as it was her idea to store stuff at the station in the first place, it makes sense that she shows me exactly where.

‘You sure you want to come?’ I asked quickly.

‘Yes please. I always miss out on the good stuff!’ With that she snatched up her bag, slipped on a light jacket and walked past me, out the door.

‘OK... I guess that’s fine then,’ I mumbled and followed her out of the building.

The station was less than ten miles away and even in London traffic, was reachable in half an hour. Sophie offered to use her car and I wasn’t going to argue. She was a safe enough driver and it would allow me time to prepare myself. What if I was wrong about this? What if this was all a coincidence and she had just left me an old key she didn’t need? No. I knew it was a deliberate plan. If she had just flung her keys down, why didn’t she leave her house key, or back door key for that matter? No, this was her way of getting a message to me. It has to be.

‘Do you think it can still work?’ Sophie asked.

‘What?’ I replied, not sure what she meant.

‘Well...you and Ems. I mean even if she didn’t want to leave you there is still the lies about the job and the wedding. Plus the fact that she is one of the best con artists of the twenty-first century. Do you think you can ever trust her again?’

I thought her questions over for a second.

‘I don’t know,’ I said truthfully. ‘I guess it depends what her explanation is for all this. It may not help but I need to talk to her and hear her side of the story, you know? I guess it depends what is in this locker.’

Sophie smiled and nodded, it was clear she didn’t want to push the topic anymore.

‘I can’t explain it, Soph. After weeks of thinking she never loved me, finding out she could have this big criminal past, didn’t seem to faze me that much.’ I paused for a brief second. ‘Can I be really honest?’

‘Of course, always.’

‘I kind of like it. I don’t know why but it’s exciting, right?’

‘It certainly is never boring with you guys!’ She grinned.

I had underestimated Sophie in so many ways. As soon as we hit traffic, she dipped down some side roads and sped off impressively fast. She was enjoying the adventure; I could see that in her eyes. We whizzed down roads I had never seen before, weaving in and out of the parked cars. Before I knew it, we were there.

Victoria Station is an impressive building. As we approached you could make it out from a good distance away. It stood tall in the London skyline, the dark red bricks standing out sharply against their paler equivalents. The white clock face appeared to be working and told me the time was not yet two in the afternoon. With Sophie driving, we really had made good time.

We eventually parked and snaked through the queues of pedestrians and traffic into the building. There were many buildings I loved in London but the more I saw of this one, the more I like it. If I found information helping me find Emma it would officially become the best building of all time.

Sophie lead the way, and I followed swiftly behind. Even on a Monday, half way through a working day the station was full of people. People of all ages, races, genders and, no doubt, sexual orientation. It seemed to typify the whole of London inside one building. As I walked, I glanced at the faces of some people and saw that glow of delight when two people who haven’t seen each other for a while finally meet once more. It was beautiful. I wondered what it would feel like to see Emma again. It was going to be perfect.

‘It’s this way, come on,’ called Sophie, taking my hand in hers to avoid getting separated. We moved past the open spaces, through an archway you could easily miss and finally around a sharp corner. Standing there in front of me must have been at least five hundred lockers. All identical, with hard silver casings, and nothing to tell them apart save a small number printed on each one. They were just the same as you would find in any cheap gym or school and, no doubt, in all the railway stations in London.

It looked at one point as if they had tried to enforce the rule where you only use a locker for 24 hours and then return the key into the door, collecting the pound coin held as hostage as you left. That rule had clearly either been abandoned or completely ignored as nearly all the keys were missing and most of the rusting lockers looked like that hadn’t been opened this side of the millennium.

‘What do you think? Good idea, huh?’ Sophie asked.

‘Perfect. Nobody would ever know it was here. I didn’t even know they had lockers here.’

‘Neither did I. A friend told me about it. I think the station are probably embarrassed about the state of these lockers and as a result they are a perfect place to hide a secret.’

We were the only ones here. It was quite a shock to the system after being in the busy station seconds before to being suddenly alone. It seemed like the kind of place people got murdered in films. That thought led me on to a more worrying thought. The Kozlov brothers. What if they had been following me? This was the last place in the world I wanted to be if mad criminals were watching me.

I forced myself to see reason. Firstly, I had been careful going to Dr Davies’ office and when I had left I had headed straight home. I was out for ages so if they had wanted to attack me they would have. I couldn’t see how anyone could have followed us after the way Sophie had driven and, as this room was so empty, we would be able to hear anyone else. No, we were safe. Realistically, they were probably less concerned about me now. Must have thought their message would scare me into submission. How wrong they were.

‘This is my one,’ Sophie said, slipping her key into 137. It opened loudly, creaking with stiffness. She didn’t ask for privacy and made no attempt to cover the contents of the locker so I looked in.

It was an incredibly sad sight. I had expected Sophie to hide things of high value that she didn’t want destroyed but looking in all I could see were trivial items. There was a small teddy bear, a book and what looked like a photo album. It would have taken the actions of a very sick and sad man to destroy these sorts of things. Looking in Sophie’s eyes I knew these meant something to her. Not so trivial after all.

‘He wasn’t a nice man,’ she sobbed, weakly. I wrapped my arm around her and let her get her emotions out. It had been the worst time of her life and being here must be bringing back some terrible feelings.

‘He’s gone, Soph. I know it was awful but he is sad and pathetic and you are sweet and kind and beautiful... so much better off without him! He was lucky to ever know you. I know I am.’

She turned to me and smiled gently, looking me right in the eye. I think we both realised how much we both needed each other at that moment. There were never any romantic feelings between us, but there was a desperation for one another, and the realisation that getting through life without each other was unthinkable. She was my rock and I endeavoured to be hers.

‘This is not about