Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

list?”
    “Err, I‟m not sure I‟m that good, sir.”
    “Then you must copy it in your own handwriting. Do it now, dispose of it as
    soon as you can, and don‟t tell anyone I gave it to you.” She took out a notepad and
    began to pencil the addresses down. Conran took back his list and put it through
    the paper shredder. “Don‟t get yourself killed, but do everything you can to find
    him. And stay in contact with me. I‟ll personally take care of any expenses, so
    submit them to me directly.”
    Thornton stood up. “Yes, sir. I‟ll find him.”

    136
    Fyn Alexander

    Chapter Fifteen

    The sky was bright blue over the River Thames, but the wind was sharp and
    cold. It was Saturday, and even in the first week in April, London was buzzing with
    tourists hanging around Traitor‟s Gate where Princess Elizabeth had been brought
    to the Tower of London in 1554.
    Angel sat on a bench beside the river at Tower Bridge wearing his Irlen lenses
    to protect his eyes. When Matilda Thornton had called him an hour ago, he was up
    and wandering around the apartment wondering what to do next. He had put fresh
    sheets on the bed, cleaned the bathroom, and washed the dishes after his breakfast.
    When she asked him if he wanted her to come to the apartment, he had said he
    would meet her somewhere else just to be out and moving around. Nervous energy
    was making him sick to his stomach.
    “Angel?” The voice came from beside him, and he turned to see an attractive
    young woman.
    “Oh my God. I didn‟t recognize you.” He stood up like Daddy would to greet a
    lady. “I expected you to be all roughed up like we were at the castle.” He laughed.
    She wore a pair of smart black pants and a knee-length black wool coat over a
    white blouse. Her blonde hair was fastened in a ponytail, and she had a little bit of
    makeup on, just enough to brighten her fair skin. “You‟re really pretty.”
    “When I‟m not covered in mud?” She laughed. “Thanks.”
    “Can we walk? I can‟t keep still. What‟s your first name? I forget.”
    “Matilda. Mattie. Come on, mate,” she said. “Start talking. Tell me everything
    you know about where Mr. Saunders went ten days ago.”
    Hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket against the chill, Angel
    walked beside her. “That‟s just it. I don‟t know anything except he took his French
    passport with the name Louis-Philip Laurent.”
    “How do you know about his French passport?” Mattie asked.
    “I was snooping around when I first moved in with Daddy and I found a bunch
    of stuff I wasn‟t supposed to see. The box he keeps hidden was still in the same
    place. Since I already knew what was in it, I guess he thought there wasn‟t much
    point in moving it. The French passport is gone, and he took his GLOCK 26 but no
    scalpels. I guess he‟s gone to France, but who knows. Do you know where he is?”
    Mattie also had her hands stuffed into her pockets. She kept playing with
    something, and a couple of times she pulled out a small notebook to glance at it. “He
    did go to France, and I have a general idea of where he might be.”

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    137

    “What are we waiting for?” Angel shrugged. “Let‟s go.”
    “Hang on a minute, mate.” Mattie stopped and looked at him. “You can‟t come
    with me.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because you could get killed.”
    “I don‟t care. I‟m coming.”
    Mattie looked into his eyes for a minute as if assessing his veracity. “I don‟t
    think Mr. Saunders would want that.”
    “I know him better than you do. I‟m going to help find him.”
    “That‟s true, you know him better, but I know my job better. You‟re not
    coming, Angel. I only met with you to find out what you might know.”
    Quietly he said, “I don‟t know anything.” He looked down at his boots, noticing
    that they needed a polishing. Daddy would have made him do them before he left
    the house. “I have to get Daddy back.” To get out of the busy pedestrian path, Angel
    moved over to the railing and leaned on it, looking down at the dark green water.
    Mattie leaned her elbows on the railing beside him, and Angel moved slightly
    closer to her. “That‟s an S and M kink, isn‟t it?” she asked. “Is that what you‟re into
    with him?”
    “What are you talking about?” Angel looked at her.
    “Calling your partner daddy.”
    Suddenly irritated, Angel snapped at her, “It‟s not a kink. It‟s a mark of
    respect. Daddy