20

While Julien was cooking dinner, Ilya put the birds and animals he'd made into a box and brought them out of the spare room. After all the things Julien had bought him, he was glad he had something to show him—give him, if he wanted them. The seagull had been put on the windowsill, though that didn't mean Julien wanted all of these. Oh God. Of course he won't. He'll think they're childish. Ilya turned to walk back.

"What do you have there?"

Julien called.

"More stuff I made."

"Show me."

Ilya set the animals up in a line along the edge of the granite worktop.

Julien stopped chopping leeks. "You made those?"

"No, I found them hidden in the attic. Don't sound so incredulous. I'm not just a hot, sexy stud…on legs."

Julien laughed. "They're amazing. Even better than the condor on the windowsill. How did you manage to twist metal into something so realistic?"

"How many silver wire birds have you seen in the wild?"

But Ilya was pleased he was impressed and still teasing.

"You could easily sell those. How large could you go?"

"What are you thinking? Life-size blue whale?"

"Why not?"

Ilya started to laugh, then thought about it. "Maybe, but the wire would have to be thicker and I'd need hard core welding equipment and scaffolding and an aircraft hangar to build it in. Not sure anyone would want something that big."

"The Tate?"

"Imagine me rolling on the floor laughing."

Julien came round to the other side of the worksurface and pulled him into his arms. "You're brilliant. Talented in so many ways."

"Too many to count?"

"Absolutely."

Julien kissed his forehead then moved back to work on the leeks.

"Are you going to let me come with you to Deal?"

"I'd rather you stayed here and made more of these."

"I have this feeling you plan to leave tomorrow, and I don't want to be here on my own for a week. I want to come with you. I can be useful. You know I'm good at picking pockets. We could work together."

"Okay."

"Please let me come. I promise I'll—oh! You said yes. I thought I was going to have to resort to sexual bribery. And no, you can't take the okay back now. Oh my God, you'll never know what you missed. What a tragedy. I feel sorry for you."

Julien chuckled.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Not with dinner. I mean with Deal."

"Google places to stay. Maybe an Airbnb. See where they are in relation to a property called Deerhurst on Sandwich Road. I want to be close but not too close. Ground floor, if it's a flat. But preferably a cottage without close neighbours. For five days from tomorrow. I hope we don't need that long but…"

Ilya worked quietly for a while. "How near is too near because there's a cottage a couple of hundred metres from Deerhurst. Sandwich Road is one of the main roads into Deal."

He brought his phone over to show Julien.

"That one's fine. I'll book it after we've eaten. I assume you're okay with leek and mushroom risotto?"

"As long as there are no mushrooms or leeks in it."

"You're in luck."

While Julien was cooking, Ilya read about Deal and looked at all the pictures he could find. He was reading about the castle when Julien brought the food to the table.

"Want some water?"

Ilya pushed to his feet.

"Please."

When he sat down, Ilya twirled his fork in the rice. He wasn't hungry.

"Stop playing with your food and eat it."

"I'm just taking out the mushrooms and leeks."

But he ate when Julien stared at him.

"You don't think this is a setup, do you?"

Ilya asked.

"I did some googling on the train. Ringbold is a well-known collector of ancient Greek and Roman coins. It's rumoured he bought a gold Ides of March coin four years ago for almost three million pounds. The most expensive coin sale ever. It was struck by Brutus, one of Julius Caesar's assassins."

"Zaebis'! Or in English—Holy shit! But Lors would never be able to brag that he had it without risking it got stolen."

"Maybe just having it is enough, or that other collectors know you have it. There are still a lot of paintings looted in World War Two that are in the hands of people who will never admit to holding them. Though that's different because they're stolen goods."

"A coin like that belongs in a museum."

"There's one in the British Museum."

"This idiot just carries something of that value around in his wallet? He's asking for trouble."

"It doesn't say that online, obviously, or that he was the buyer, so I'm not sure how Lors knows, unless, as I say, it's just that other collectors know. I still don't feel it's a trap."

"But you'll work on the principle that it might be?"

Julien nodded. "I really shouldn't have you with me."

"Don't change your mind now."

"No."

Ilya managed about half of the food, and a few more forkfuls when Julien held them to his mouth.

"It's tasty, but I can't eat anymore,"

Ilya pleaded.

They washed up, then Julien sat back at the table and took out his wallet.

"That's not your name on the credit card."

"It's the card I use for jobs with Lors."

"But then he knows where you are."

"He's sending me to Deal. If I didn't use the card, he'd be suspicious."

"But…"

"But what?"

"Why not book somewhere else with that card and book the place you want to stay at with your own? I just have a weird vibe about you being this close to the end of the three years. You can't be too careful. I mean, what if Lors is friends with Ringbold?"

Julien stared at him. "Well, if I wasn't paranoid before, I am now. I hadn't thought of that. You're right. I'll book two places."

The first place Julien booked with Lors' card was in Deal itself, a ground floor flat within metres of the sea. The second, with his own card, was the cottage close to where the Ringbolds would be staying. Google maps showed satellite images of Deerhurst as a large detached house, standing in an acre of land. The owners were Derick and Sandra Womack. Sandra was Ringbold's younger sister.

Ilya sat and watched as Julien pulled up information from all over the internet.

"Derick works, his wife doesn't. They have a large dog, which is bad news if I need to get into the house, but it's twelve years old, so maybe not such a worry. Their teenage children are at boarding school."

Julien checked Sandra's social media presence on Facebook and Instagram, where she went shopping, where her husband played golf, the restaurants they frequented… And found photos of the Ringbolds and the Womacks, separately and one of the four together at some charity event in New York.

"I'm in awe of your sleuthing skills,"

Ilya told him.

"Three years ago, I had no time for anything that wasn't related to medicine. When I got trawled into this, I quickly realised that the more I knew, the less chance there was of being surprised. You're right about being extra careful this close to the end."

"It doesn't have to finish the way you think it will,"

Ilya whispered.

Julien shot him a small smile, then turned back to his phone. "Teenage children who might come home to see their aunt and uncle is a case in point about being prepared. Making the snatch on the street in Deal, maybe at the Saturday market might offer the best chance, assuming they go there. It's a popular touristy thing. Lifting the wallet on the pier doesn't offer an easy escape. Pursued by a guy yelling ‘thief' means someone is bound to step in our way. You're right too, that in this weather, he'll be wearing a coat. If the worst comes to the worst, I might have to break in."

"They're Americans. They'll want to see what Deal has to offer, even if they've been before. Why come all this way and stay in the house when they can take a walk on a promenade with an unspoilt seafront? There's a castle, a pebbly beach, a pier, an excellent breakfast to be had at the end of the pier and no tacky places selling sticks of rock and kiss-me-quick hats. The town's said to be one of the best places to live in the UK."

"Thank you, Mr Wikipedia."

"So what's the plan?"

"We're going to have to keep the house under surveillance and follow them when they leave. In a restaurant, he'd take off his jacket. That might be the best chance."

"And you'll let me help with the lift of the wallet?"

Julien nodded. "You'll have to dress down. I don't want you to be memorable. No blue hair or Hello Kitty T-shirts. Or that jacket because I'm not sure I can see you in that without doing filthy things to you."

"You're the boss."

Julien laughed. "If only that were true."

Two days later, they'd driven past the Womacks' house on the way to their Airbnb cottage, which turned out to be delightful. Warm and cosy with a modern kitchen. Despite having been sitting in the car for over three hours, all Ilya wanted to do was lie down. Preferably with Julien.

He slumped on the couch. "You said to remind you to pay the toll charge for the crossing."

"I'll do it now. And for the return trip."

"Does it matter that you're leaving a record of crossing the Thames?"

"Only if we're caught. And I'd have the congestion charge to pay if we'd gone the longer way round."

"I'm too tired to unpack."

"I don't want you to unpack anything apart from the food we brought with us. We might need to leave quickly. Only take from the bag what's needed at that moment."

"Might that be lube and a condom?"

Julien laughed.

"How are we going to know when the Ringbolds are likely to arrive?"

Ilya wished he'd not asked when Julien explained. Flight time arrival was the starting point, assuming no delays, then estimate of time taken to get through immigration, to collect their bags and either rent a car or get an Uber or use the train. There were a lot of variables.

"Stop moaning,"

Julien said.

"I haven't made a sound."

"In your head. If I don't work things out, I'd have to spend hours watching the house instead of being in bed with you."

Ilya mimed zipping his lip.

"The train from Heathrow goes into London first and takes around three hours. Two changes and lots of stops. They won't get the train. I'm thinking they'll use a private hire or an Uber. It's quicker."

"But expensive."

"I don't think money's an issue for a guy who'd spend millions on a coin. It's a long way for the Womacks to drive there and back, even to collect family. Two cars on their drive suggests the husband and wife are at home anyway. It'll be an Uber."

"They might rent a car."

"They might but I doubt it. Long flight. They'll be tired even if they came over business class."

Julien checked his watch. "One hour and we'll go for a walk, then wait nearby for them to arrive."

Ilya perked up. "An hour? We can find lots to do in an hour."

"We're driving into Deal to have a look around and check in at the other Airbnb."

"You are no fun."

"Fun comes later."

"Promise?"

Ilya took in everything Julien pointed out in the town. Parking spots, dead ends, possible hiding places, the police station—only open for two hours a day, which was a mixed blessing—a hut where bikes could be hired… He also took in what Julien was telling him about denying they knew each other, telling the police about how his father had held him in the house, to think only of himself if he was put under pressure.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. There was no way that Ilya would desert Julien. Ever—probably. But Ilya wasn't going to think about that because it was too soon for those sorts of feelings.

"Maybe the Americans will want to see where Julius Caesar landed,"

Ilya said as they walked to the other Airbnb.

"Except there's no X marks the spot."

Julien stopped walking. "This is the accommodation."

He opened the lockbox with the code he'd been sent, retrieved the key and they went inside. It was nice, though much smaller than the cottage. They didn't linger and were back where they needed to be within the hour. Moments later, they were ready to go walking.

"It's going to be hard not to look when we go past the house,"

Ilya whispered.

"You can look. Just don't stare. Remember the cars."

Ilya glanced down Deerhurst's drive as they went past and memorised the number plates of the two silver cars, one a Lexus, the other a sleek Jaguar. A hundred metres up the road, with the house no longer in sight, Julien led Ilya into a field where they crouched behind an abandoned piece of agricultural machinery. They could just see the entrance to Deerhurst through a gap in the hedge.

"What are we waiting for?"

Ilya asked.

"For the Ringbolds to arrive and whether the car stays, which means they'll have rented. If it leaves, we have only two cars to keep an eye on. I'm guessing they'll use the Lexus. The Jaguar is a big vehicle to park in Deal."

"This is like being a spy,"

Ilya said.

"Ninety-nine percent boring, with one percent that scares you shitless."

Ilya was bored within moments, not that he was wishing to be scared shitless. They chatted about the way to get Ringbold's wallet and Ilya knew Julien was trying to stop him getting involved, but…

"A team of two has more chance of success,"

Ilya pointed out. "My plan is best. I steal your wallet. You rush after me. I bang into Ringbold while you're yelling at me and I try his left pocket and when you help him up, you try his right."

"We're only going to get one chance at this, otherwise it has to be breaking into the house."

"Or you tell the police everything."

"Lors will deny it all. I can't even wear a wire when I supposedly take the coin to him. I'm searched every time I go."

"Then we don't mess this up. We'll do what you say. We'll park in that layby on the way to Deal tomorrow morning, wait for their car to pass, then follow them. If we think we're going to lose them in the town, I'll get out and follow on foot while you find somewhere to park."

They waited for an hour in the cold before a black car pulled into the Womacks' drive. A few moments later, it pulled out again and returned the way it had come.

"Think that was them?"

Ilya asked.

"Yes. We can go back now."

"For sex?"

Julien nipped his nose. "I was thinking pizza."

They set off back to the cottage side by side. When their fingers brushed, Ilya wasn't sure if it was an accident or not. Then Julien took hold of his hand and Ilya almost fell over. When he was upright and walking like a human again, he wondered if Julien would let go, but he didn't. Ilya threaded his fingers through Julien's expecting him to pull away, to say something, but he didn't.

For once, Ilya saw the point of keeping quiet, so he did, and just enjoyed the few minutes while they lasted because he was pretty sure a passing car or a group of people suddenly climbing over a stile, or even a cow looking over a hedge would put a stop to the hand-holding.

The keeping quiet didn't last long.

"Is it public displays of affection you don't like or is it that you don't want anyone to think you might be gay?"

Ilya asked.

"There's something about it all that makes me cringe."

Ilya swallowed his hurt. "Why are you doing it then?"

"I'm trying to get used to it because I know you like it."

That sent an arrow right into Ilya's heart. When they reached the gateway to their cottage, Julien tugged off Ilya's beanie and pushed his fingers into his hair to bring his face to his. Then he kissed him, his tongue sliding warm and wet over Ilya's bottom lip before he slipped it into his mouth. Ilya was lost at sea in an instant, carried out on a fast riptide. Julien was kissing him and nothing else mattered.

When Julien finally broke away, they were both breathing heavily.

"You know we were being watched, right?"

Ilya said.

Julien's eyes widened. He glanced round, then turned back. "The horse?"

Ilya nodded. "He'll tell everyone!"

Julien growled. "Inside right now."

Later that evening, they were cuddled up together on the couch and Ilya could tell Julien was still fretting.

"What's wrong?"

"Apart from the fact that you shouldn't be involved? You could be seen. I can't be sure Lors doesn't have someone watching me."

"Why would he?"

"Because he's never trusted me. Why would he change now? We've not factored in that Ringbold might have a jacket on under his coat. Or that he might carry the wallet in his trouser pocket."

Ilya shrugged. "Maybe we just need to follow him and see where he keeps it. Or we could act when he first takes it out. I run, you yell and bingo. Then it's just a matter of being fast enough. You could run after me and make sure I'm not caught."

"Or I could do it."

"I'm better at it than you are."

Julien raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"We're overthinking this. We follow, we wait for an opportunity and, if the moment is right, we take it. If it's not, we don't and the day after we try again. We can watch to see how he reacts to things. It might give us some ideas. It doesn't have to be tomorrow."

"No."

"If we talk about it anymore, I'll get a headache and I have a promise of fun from you."

"So you do."