“I no longer have it I’m afraid, it is at the bottom of a ria in Spain, along with my boat.”
The man’s expression didn’t even flicker.
“Could you take your jacket off, Sir.”
Vaughan complied and watched as the man padded it down before rounding the table and padding Vaughan down very professionally.
“Here is your jacket, Sir. You can go up when you are ready; the Commodore is waiting for you in briefing room eight on the fifth floor. Reception is through the security system over there, Sir.”
“Thank you, gentlemen.”
The main entrance and corridors were not as busy as during the day but there were still a lot of staff on duty. At the door to the briefing room Vaughan knocked.
“Come in.” The Commodore sat with a woman and a man both of whom Vaughan vaguely recognised.
“Ah, Vaughan, you made good time. May I introduce our Foreign Secretary, Eleanor Geddings, and Home Secretary Marcus Hatton-James. Have you had a meal?”
“I grabbed a burger from the train’s buffet car on the way,” replied Vaughan shaking hands with the two ministers.
“Coffee and some sandwiches are on the way, take a seat,” said Campbell. “It is Ian Vaughan here who is responsible for not only exposing the planned coup against the Portuguese Government but also exposing a dangerous and corrupting influence within SIS.”
“We received some further praise about your work from the Portuguese Ambassador only a few days ago, Mr Vaughan,” said Eleanor Geddings, giving Vaughan a wide and friendly smile.
“What we would like you to do, Vaughan, is to take us through this latest operations of yours starting from the day you left Madeira,” requested Campbell.
Two hours later, Campbell and the two ministers sat silently looking at Vaughan trying to take in what they had just heard.
“Was it our decision to get her out through Western Sahara, Commodore?” asked Eleanor Geddings.
“No, Minister, it was forced on us by circumstances. Jan Vermeulen had people watching ports and the main airport in Mauritania.”
“She was lucky to fly out of Nouadhibou then.”
“She was indeed, it was very smart thinking on the part of our local man to get her up into Western Sahara so quickly.”
“Who governs Western Sahara now?” asked Hatton-James.
“Basically Morocco, but Algeria continues to make claims. At a recent United Nations C24 colonisation seminar apparently the Moroccan and Algerian delegates came to blows over the issue.”
Hatton-James looked at Eleanor Geddings in amazement, “Really, they actually came to blows in the seminar!”
“So it has been reported.”
“Good heavens.”
“And the UN just stood by and observed,” said Vaughan, receiving a sharp look from both ministers.
“Where are Lieutenant Heathcote and Mrs Patterson now, Mr Vaughan?” asked the Home Secretary.
“Safely tucked up in a safe house, Home Secretary.”
“But the Lieutenant was wounded.”
“She has recovered well, despite my crude surgery. According to Mrs Patterson, the wound is healing well and the bruising subsiding.”
“In the attack they actually threw grenades into our boat, as well as firing on it.”
“It wasn’t the government’s yacht, Home Secretary, we thought that Vaughan’s cover as a maritime author on the earlier mission was better achieved by the use of his own yacht. During his previous operation in Madeira there was a risk that he may meet someone whom he knew and who would know his boat,” explained the Commodore, “The government will of course pay for its complete replacement, Vaughan.”
“There are many other expenses I will have to claim; after my dismissal I was forced to use my own funds to cover the expenses for the three of us.”
“I’ll get one of our accounts staff to go through it all with you, Vaughan, as soon as you wish.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You mentioned that the Portuguese secret service were very keen to question this banker who owned the apartment in Lagos. I don’t fully understand why,” said Eleanor Geddings.
“We believe that it is something to do with the financing of the arms trade and possibly the coup, maybe leading to exposing details of the individual backers,” said the Commodore. “Vaughan here and I discussed this possibility some time ago and the Serious Fraud people are actively searching through what information they can get from the City.”
“Isn’t this more a Portuguese Government matter?” asked Geddings.
“It is, Foreign Secretary, but it is also ours insofar that British subjects may be involved not only in the illegal arms trading but also supporting the recent coup attempt. If we find the information first it will give us the opportunity of either sorting it out here discreetly, or handing the information over to demonstrate our support and friendship with Portugal,” replied Vaughan, closely watching the politicians’ reactions.
“Oh God, the Treasury will go bloody mad if there is another banking scandal centred on London,” groaned the Home Secretary putting his head in his hands. “Was this rogue agent involved with the coup?”
“We won’t know for sure until we have tracked him down but it is a possibility,” replied Vaughan, “I would suggest, however, that we avoid issuing an international arrest warrant and instead, once we have an idea where he has gone, send a small team that includes a Special Branch Police Officer to actually make the arrest, that would significantly reduce the spread of information regarding the reasons for the arrest.”
“It sounds as if you are volunteering for the job, Mr Vaughan,” said the Foreign Secretary, looking at Vaughan intently.
“If those are my orders, Foreign Secretary, I will be happy to carry them out.”
“You think you know where he is, don’t you,” said the Commodore studying Vaughan carefully.
“I have an idea, Sir, yes.”
“Get yourself checked into the Firm’s hotel and see me back here tomorrow morning at about ten o’clock,” said the Commodore. “I’ll come with you to the lift.”
In the corridor the Commodore stopped Vaughan and said, “I owe you a great debt, Ian, but that debt I am afraid can never be used as a ‘Get you out of Jail Card’ but it does help in getting you up the promotion ladder.”
“I don’t play Monopoly, Sir, so I would never have thought of picking up the ‘Get out of Jail Card’ you refer to,” replied Vaughan stiffly, offended by Campbell’s insinuation.
“You never struck me as someone who played that game, that is why I hired you. I am sorry that I had to make it clear now, but in this world such matters must be expressed in black and white clarity, grey boundaries create too many problems. Now I must get back and discuss a few more issues with our guests while I have their full attention.”
Twenty minutes later Vaughan paid off the taxi in Chelsea, close to the DELCO offices, and walking past them noticed Lorna Parker-Davis standing at the reception desk apparently sorting through a pile of paperwork. At the Firm’s “hotel” he was greeted, swiftly checked in and shown to his room.
“What time would you like your morning call and breakfast, Mr Vaughan?” asked the steward.
“Better make it seven o’clock for the call and say seven-thirty for breakfast.”
“Certainly, Mr Vaughan, good night.”
***
The next morning Vaughan found the Commodore waiting for him in the Albert Road briefing room together with Lorna.
“Good morning, Vaughan.”
“Good morning, Commodore, Lorna.”
“I want Staunton found first of all and I’ve deployed a large number of people and organisations in this country to find out where he has gone,” said the Commodore, indicating that Vaughan should sit opposite him at the table. “We are also searching for a Miss Alice Morgan recently employed here as one of our communication staff.”
“Her flat in Croydon was searched the day b
efore yesterday, Vaughan. Fingerprints and DNA found there indicate the recent presence of Staunton,” informed Lorna Parker-Davis. “In his apartment we found some pictures that definitely confirmed their ‘close’ relationship and Miss Morgan’s DNA.”
“How many passports did Staunton hold?” asked Vaughan.
“On this Portuguese business authorised by Sir Andrew Averrille he was operating under his own name we believe,” replied Lorna.
“Previous ops?”
“We collect in all alias passports on return from each duty.”
“Is that just DELCO or this place as well?” said Vaughan.
Lorna picked up the phone and dialled. “Document division…? Good… This is Lorna Parker-Davis acting PA to Commodore Campbell, can you send up the passport issue and return sheet for Senior Agent Leonard Staunton… Fifth floor briefing room eight. Thank you.”
“You think he is using a passport retained from a previous operation with which to leave the country?” said the Commodore.
“If that is what he has done, my guess is that he has gone to Madeira, to conclude an arms deal with the minder of the late illegal arms trader Kazakov. He now needs money and a lot of it.”
“Of course, Vaughan, the man you saw Staunton talking to in Funchal.”
“Yes, Sir. After Kazakov’s death the minder became almost by default the guardian to Kazakov’s mute daughter, so he would also need the funds available from any cache of weapons Kazakov held, to support her.”
“Mute you say?” said the Commodore.
“Yes, Sir, mute, in fact quite a sorrowful looking young girl, when I saw her at Kazakov’s old house, who must feel very alone now.”
The Commodore looked at Vaughan and could see the man’s shared sense of loss and the loneliness it brings, and made a note to grant Vaughan leave to spend time with his daughters.
“Did this Kazakov have any link to Vermeulen?” asked Lorna.
“I don’t know but I am sure Staunton does have and I’m sure that he wanted to take that black notebook to use it and avoid being incriminated by it,” said Vaughan. “I guarantee that GCHQ never received it.”
“Why would they?” asked Lorna.
“Because it was in the most complex code I’ve ever seen. Agreed I am no expert, but the pages I studied on the passage from the Selvagems to Gibraltar did not reveal anything like a pattern,” replied Vaughan.
“Well, Staunton wouldn’t have been able to,” Lorna said with some feeling. “In my short time here, before I was given the job across the river at DELCO, I was in the next section to his and everyone knew that he passed coded stuff to his assistant to do, even if the stuff was above their STRAP level, because he didn’t have a clue.”
“Which begs the question why was he so well in with Sir Andrew Averrille if he was that rubbish at the job,” said Vaughan.
“That same question has been bugging me for years, Vaughan,” said the Commodore.
“Did anyone know of the relationship between Staunton and this Alice Morgan?” asked Vaughan.
“Nobody in the communications room knew of it,” said Lorna. “The joke was that the person she was overheard talking to on the phone was a Lenny from Covent Garden Market.”
“When it was in fact, Lenny Staunton,” said Vaughan. “Are you all right, Sir?”
“The first time I saw that young lady in our communications room was just after the assassination attempt on Walid al Djebbar. I remember saying to Heathcote at the time that I had seen her before, and went as far as having her file brought up but there was nothing in it that presented any problem. Now I have just remembered where I had seen her before, and that was the day after Sir Andrew Averrille had been appointed to the top post and he had thrown a garden party for senior staff and partners. She was there with Staunton, but not with Staunton if you understand me.”
“You mean that she was brought along by Staunton to be seen by someone else,” said Vaughan.
The Commodore nodded, “Yes, Vaughan, I think that is precisely what I mean.”
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” said Lorna.
“Staunton found a love child of Sir Andrew’s and has cashed in his winning Monopoly Chance Card, worth a lot more than the two hundred pounds on it,” said Vaughan.
“That is one hell of a leap, Vaughan,” said Campbell, frowning.
“In the light of current circumstances, Sir, maybe somebody should put the question to Sir Andrew.”
“You are right, Vaughan, but I would be a lot happier to have more than just Miss Morgan’s DNA.”
“We have it, Sir, both on record and from her flat, we could in fact do a two way match to Sir Andrew, from his records,” said Lorna.
“This is not helping us find Staunton though, is it,” said Vaughan. “How long does it take to dig out Staunton’s document record?”
There was a knock at the door. “This answer your question, Vaughan.”
“I hope so, Lorna.”
“Sorry it took so long, we had a problem checking it against his operations list.”
Lorna, thanking the clerk and taking the list, passed it across the table to the Commodore who carefully studied it.
“Two are missing, the first, EU/Italian was in the name of Leonardo Giovani and the second was South African in the name of Laurens Van Vuuren,” said the Commodore, “I don’t recall him having worked in Italy.”
“Maybe he was just blowing the bloody doors off of something,” said Vaughan, in his best Michael Caine mimic.
The Commodore looked up and frowned for a moment then made the connection with the film “The Italian Job”. “Oh, yes, very droll, Vaughan.”
Stifling a giggle Lora asked, “Shall I get these details out to the airports and ferries, Sir.”
“Yes, Lorna, and we better also do the same for Alice Morgan’s passport.”
“Yes, Sir, I will get onto it straight away. We have already issued details of Staunton’s own and Alice Morgan’s passport but so far have not heard anything.”
“Last night, Vaughan, you again linked Staunton with the coup. This is not just because he mentioned it when you met him in Gibraltar is it?”
“No, Sir, it’s that I got the feeling from Agent Ascensao that De Lacerda was linking the banker who owned the boat and the Lagos apartment to his search for the coup backers. I am sure now that Staunton was the organiser of the snatch operation based on his rapid arrival in Gibraltar and the vast amount of time he has spent recently, supposedly, tidying up so called loose ends of a previous operation I suspect is more to do with covering his tracks and others in connection with the coup.”
“Mmm, let’s keep that thought, Vaughan, and see if we cannot add a little more substance to it.”
For the next half an hour the three of them went back over the timetable of events as they knew them starting at the time Vaughan sent his text message from off the coast of Morocco. Assuming that Alice Morgan had intercepted the message and passed the details onto Staunton they concluded that it was Staunton who arranged the snatch. To use the banker’s boat and Lagos apartment also clearly indicated Staunton’s deep involvement in Portugal’s wealthy hierarchy increasing the chances of his involvement in radical political change.
At the end of the discussion Vaughan moved on to a meeting to sort out his expenses, followed by a chance to phone his daughters. He had just put the phone down when Lorna came into the room. “You were right; Staunton flew out to Madeira on his own aboard yesterday’s early morning Easy Jet flight from Gatwick. We have people checking CCTV to see if Alice Morgan saw him off.”
“What name did he use?”
“Laurens Van Vuuren.”
“Right, what next?” asked Vaughan.
“The Commodore asked whether you would be prepared to do the arrest. We will put a man from Special Branch with you to do the formal bit.”
“You mean I can’t kill him?”
“Afraid not, Vaughan, but accidents do happen,” Lorna replied.
“Can I take that as a yes?”
“Yes, you can, Lorna. Can you sort me out a good photograph of him; I may need to show it to a couple of people?”
“Certainly, and you are booked on tomorrow’s Easy Jet flight, it leaves at 0710 hours.”
“How did you know I was going to volunteer for this one?” said Vaughan, frowning at her, then shaking his head said, “I had better pack and get some sleep.”
“A car will pick you up at 0400. You will be travelling under your own name, it appears that you are too well known in Madeira to use an alias,” replied Lorna smiling.
“Probably yes, and there is not enough time to grow a beard.”
***
Arriving in Madeira three days before Vaughan, Staunton had retrieved his gun from the airport locker he had hired then, picking up the hire car he had ordered, immediately drove to the Kazakov household and settled the arms deal with Boris. That done he was intending to lay low in Funchal and leave with the arms shipment to the Cabinda Province of Angola in a week’s time, the luxury of knowing that most of Vermeulen’s contact data was in his hands, helped ease his fears of failure over Campbell’s position. He was actually beginning to believe that he no longer needed SIS to manipulate those subtle shifts in control that would make him rich and powerful, even the idea of northern Chile being the base of his operation was becoming an attractive dream the more he considered it.
Checking in at the hotel, Staunton, using the name Leonardo Giovani, went straight to his room and unpacked. Picking up his phone he intended to try phoning Jacobs again, then dropped it back on the bed, realising that if Jacobs was being held by the police they would be able to locate the caller. Crossing the room to the writing desk Staunton pulled a receipt from his wallet and on the back of it started a shopping list, the first item of which was hair dye, he then left the hotel and made his way over to the car rental offices before sorting out his change of appearance.
By evening Staunton’s hair had gone quite grey and with thick framed horn-rimmed spectacles he looked more like a university professor than the almost unmistakeable government agent of his former appearance. He studied himself in the bathroom mirror, was pleased with what he saw and even surprised by how much his appearance could be changed by such small adjustments.
In Treacherous Waters Page 28