There were two layers of piles. Four neatly stacked piles along the top row with a top card of a queen of diamonds, a seven of clubs, a king of diamonds, and a joker; and seven neatly stacked piles on the bottom row: three of hearts, seven of hearts, five of clubs, six of spades, seven of spades, nine of hearts, and a four of spades.

Why was there a joker on the top row? That didn’t make any sense. She took her mobile from her jacket pocket and pulled up a web browser. She hadn’t played much solitaire, preferring Maj Jong to a card game other than bridge, but she knew the joker didn’t belong. She was right. Although the piles were correctly arranged, Miles should not have been playing with a joker.

“So, what did you find on the computer?” Liam came and sat down beside her.

“Crystal’s working on it.” She pointed to a small conference room where Crystal had the computer hooked up like an intensive care patient. From the window, Sophia could see her friend signing a string of filthy words.

He leaned over and looked at the display on her mobile. “Really, you think this is the time to be playing games?” Taking her arm in his hand, he was about to pull her from the seat but she pulled her arm back.

“This is important. I think this might be it, anyway. It might explain the camera.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I think this might be the shipping information.”

In a search engine, she pulled up the International Container Bureau’s international standard for identification of shipping containers and looked over the requirement—four letters, seven numbers. This could be it, she thought, and became excited. There was a way to be sure. She could calculate the check digit. Slowly she went through the formula, multiplying and subtracting, until she verified that four was indeed the correct last digit.

“Liam? Remember I told you that we feared an intruder on the network?”

“No, not really . . .”

“Well, we feared it nonetheless, maybe we didn’t tell you for fear you would panic and it turned out to be nothing. Now, however, we believe it to be related to the case in some way. We’re not sure it’s Placko’s men or belonging to the buyer. Either way, it’s not us. So, we’ve monitored the transmissions. The intruder has only hacked into the cameras. They want to see what we see. Why? If it’s someone who is involved, they shouldn’t have to see what we see. It didn’t make sense until I saw the cards.”

“What do the cards mean?”

“I think it’s the shipping container’s ID. That’s what we’re looking for, isn’t it?”

“Show me.”

“Well, I knew to some extent what we were looking for in terms of the identification, four letters and seven numbers. That matches a game of solitaire completely. The joker confused me but then it doesn’t really matter what card goes in the fourth place because we know it symbolizes the letter U.”

“How—”

“That doesn’t matter. You can search that later. In the meantime, just understand, the top row is the four letters: QSKU and the bottom row is the seven numbers 3756794. So, you can check port authority to confirm that the shipment is indeed there and go pick up your weapons.”

He stood looking at her dumbfounded. “Are you sure?”

“Not a hundred percent, but ninety.” She shrugged. “Why are you just standing there? I thought this was time sensitive.”

Liam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his mobile. “What were those numbers?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Monday morning, Sophia couldn’t find Liam. No one in the office had seen him and said he must be on assignment. It was odd she hadn’t heard from him all weekend. Perhaps he had tried to contact her but whatever measures Crystal put in place to block him had worked.

After trying his mobile for what seemed like the hundredth time, she knocked on her boss’s door.

“Sir, I can’t seem to find Liam.”

Vincent put down the shoe he was scrapping against his desk leg. A pile of mud lay on the floor. “Liam’s taking the day.”

“Oh, why? Is he sick?”

“That’s what he says. I think it has more to do with Gikhrist Stewart.”

“Who’s that?”

“Didn’t you hear? They think Gikhrist Stewart is the buyer. Three of his men showed up at the shipping container Friday evening.”

“Should I know who Gikhrist is?”

“The man who killed Liam’s wife.”

What?

“Look, Evans,” Vincent continued, “if you want more information, contact Liam. I have work to do.” He banged his shoe against the floor and placed it back over his socked foot. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Get out, Evans.” He waved her away.

Sophia slowly backed from the room. Liam had a wife? His wife was murdered by Gikhrist Stewart? No wonder he wasn’t in. No wonder he’s been out of sorts. He wasn’t the ass. She was. Who was this Stewart? Why didn’t he just tell her? She had to find him and apologize.

Someone tapped her shoulder. It was Crystal.

“Sophia, did you hear about Gikhrist Stewart?”

“I just did. Who is he?”

“He manages a securities company—smart and highly skilled in the technologies department. We’ve been trying to get him for fraud and various other crimes but he always manages to get away. We even sent a woman undercover but she was murdered. Did you know it was Foxton’s wife? I didn’t know he had a wife.”

“I just found out myself.”

“Horrible news. For years Foxton has been trying to arrest or perhaps even kill Gikhrist. The closest Foxton got to revence was when he ran over his dog.”

“Oh my God.”

“Stewart deserved worse.”

“No wonder Foxton’s taking the day off. Why don’t they arrest him? He’s behind the purchase of the weapons.”

“It’s the goal but as of now, we still don’t have enough to tie him to the sale and his men are not talking. Hopefully they will soon. If only for Foxton’s sake.”

Sophia nodded. She headed directly out of the office. She needed to think.

“One ticket please,” Sophia asked the woman behind the glass. It was 2:30 in the afternoon and Sophia had tracked Liam to this location—an old cinema in Hammersmith. There was a worry he was here to meet a contact, in which case, she risked ruining it for him, further jeopardizing their working relationship.

“What movie?”

“Oh . . .” Sophia looked up the board and picked the first one she saw that didn’t sound like it would involve a lot of fake screaming. However, she couldn’t be sure he was at that one, so she replied, “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Well, you have to pick one.”

“I’ve arranged to meet my boyfriend here but I can’t remember the name of the film we arranged to see. So, I need to check them all.”

“Why don’t you just ring him?”

“I can’t. His mobile’s turned off.” She tapped her fingers on the counter. “Look, give me number eight. Is it good?”

She just shrugged.

Sophia dug around in her bag and pulled out the money. Money that was going toward a movie she would never watch. She wished she had brought a picture of Liam to show the girl but doubted whether the girl could ID him. She took the ticket and entered the theater.

The old cinema reeked of popcorn. Although the architecture was beautiful, the carpets were worn and the velvet curtains that hung from the ceiling had begun to fray and thin. Ahead of her, an old woman in gray uniform vacuumed, and other than one short teenager behind the refreshment’s counter, the foyer was empty.

Based on the posters that lined Liam’s walls, she skipped the first few movies and entered an old forties film, Cat People. She had no idea when the film had started but only a handful of people sat inside. She slowly walked to the front, turned around and made her way back to the exit. As she went, she studied the faces. A few turned to look at her but then turned back to the screen. She only stopped when the scene turned dark and she could no longer make out the faces. One thing was certain—Liam was not watching that movie.