‘Used one before?’
I shook my head.
‘Got the shirt?’
I pushed my hand into my handbag and pulled out a plain black button-down shirt, size small.
The man held it up for a moment before nodding.
‘All right, you go off and have a coffee, and come back in an hour and we’ll be ready for you.’
The following morning I headed to Liverpool Street station, first thing. It was my day off and Anna had already left for the office by the time I made my way down to the kitchen, leaving David, who sporadically worked from the house these days, in the kitchen tossing pancakes in return for whoops and giggles from the girls, sitting side by side in their highchairs.
I had arrived early, changing in the pub toilets before taking my place at one of the booths which stretched along one wall of the building so that I had a full vantage point of the concourse at Liverpool Street station on one side, and an uninterrupted view of the restaurant on the other.
The man arrived at 8 a.m. on the dot, as arranged. As he walked towards me, I noticed his brogues shining under the stark light of the bar. He ran a self-conscious hand across his hair, which was pulled slightly to one side with too much wax.
‘Good to meet you.’
He held out his hand first, trying to take the lead. The man was twenty-six, according to the CV I had pulled off a poorly protected recruitment agency online, and had been working for the company for three years without enough movement towards the top to elicit any real loyalty to his employers.
‘Stephen, isn’t it?’
I kept my voice brisk, professional, remembering my brief training.
I ordered us some sparkling water, which arrived in a large glass bottle. Just before the waitress poured, I stood up, as I had been taught.
‘Actually, I’m sorry, my chair is a little damp, do you mind if we move over there?’
I started walking towards a different table, slightly around the corner.
Stephen hurried after me, unnerved by the shift in tempo, followed by the waitress. Settling myself again with a clear view of each side, I smiled tightly as she poured out our drinks, casually surveying the room for anyone who might have moved tables after us; anyone who might be rearranging themselves closer to where we now sat.
After she left, I turned to Stephen.
‘As I mentioned in my email, I am part of the team launching a new trading and commodities company, based here in London. We already have an office in Greece, which we launched in the wake of the crisis there, and we have grown so fast that we are opening a UK office and are currently scouting the best talent in Europe to be part of our team.
‘We are offering our new recruits a very healthy salary as well as shares in the business. Given recent reports on insider trading, it is our belief that there is a great need for such an ethical company in the City.’
Stephen’s smile widened. He was easier than I could ever have dreamed. ‘Oh, definitely.’
‘Well, I’m sure you have never encountered such things personally …’
He snorted, sitting straighter, relishing his chance to impress me.
‘Don’t bet on it. I’ve heard of tens if not hundreds of cases …’
‘Surely not, even at a prestigious company like TradeSmart?’
I took a sip of my drink, feigning only a polite interest.
Stephen’s eyes glistened.
‘Oh, believe me, I could tell you some stories.’
I leaned towards him, ensuring the buttonhole camera in my shirt was level with his eye, the microphone picking up every word.
‘Oh, I’d be fascinated. Please do.’
CHAPTER 50
Anna
It was nearly eleven on Monday morning by the time Harry finally answered my texts, his response brief, giving away nothing but an address. Informing Clarissa that I was going to a PR meeting, I gripped my phone tightly in my coat pocket as I headed out of the immaculate glass doors.
It was not so much an address as an alleyway, I realised as I approached. I paced the concrete, waiting for him to appear, the stench of bins flooding out from the back of the café on the high street. Finally, he arrived, turning into the side street and walking past me, instructing me to follow him like a dog.
‘Now what did this woman say?’
He spoke once he was ready, carefully unpeeling the plastic from his packet of cigarettes.
Snatching the unlit cigarette from his hand, I waited for him to pull his lighter from his pocket, pausing before leaning into the flame.
‘I’ve told you, she was asking about David … She said she had an interest in Clive’s business and she … she said she works for MI bloody Six, Harry.’
His expression was cool as he digested the news, the two of us moving with the crowd along Charterhouse Street, wind pressing against our coats as we turned right towards Hatton Garden.
What must we have looked like to the outside world – friends, colleagues, lovers? Did they notice the sweat seeping from my pores?
‘What the fuck is going on?’
My voice was low but persistent. He stopped and leaned against a wall, and I turned to face him.
‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, OK? Now you need to calm down—’
‘Calm down?’
‘Anna …’
He reached for my wrist and reluctantly I shook him off, desperate for him to tighten his grip.
‘Anna. I don’t know what is going on any more than you do, but—’
‘You don’t know? You don’t seem to know much, Harry. For someone who claimed to know everything.’
My voice was low now, pleading.
‘Just tell me, truthfully, does Clive know? Is this some kind of trap?’
‘Anna, listen to me. You need to calm down … If Clive knew, you think he would send someone to play mind games with you on Hampstead Heath? Is that really what you think?’
I rubbed my hand against the side of my head, suddenly aware of a throbbing pain above my jaw. It had been a bad night’s sleep again with the girls and I had forgotten to take my pills this morning, which I knew meant the headache would only escalate.
‘I don’t know what to think.’
He bent his head so that our lips were nearly touching, the sharpness of his breath on mine as he spoke.
‘But what if he did find out, Anna?’
His eyes shone fiercely, seeming almost black in their intensity.
When I pulled my body away, his grip tightened.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
The smoke from his cigarette rolled into my eyes.
‘It’s not supposed to mean anything. I’m just asking what you think would happen if, by some means, Clive was to find out what you have been up to? A man like that … I can’t imagine he would take too kindly to it.’
‘Don’t you bloody threaten me, Harry.’
Tearing myself free of him, I felt my voice trembling. A group of office workers huddled under the canopy of an estate agent’s looked up from their cigarettes.
‘Look, just calm down, will you?’
He held out his arms in a placatory manner.
‘Jesus, look at you. I’m not threatening you. I’m just saying, if Clive did know, I don’t think this is how he would approach the matter.’
I watched him, too confused to blink.
‘Look, I’m the one under serious heat here, Anna. My bosses, they’re getting tetchy. They’ve been pouring resources into us, into you, and well, frankly, we need more. So far, you’ve not given us much to run on here. I’m worried that if we don’t get something to them soon, they’re going to pull the investigation, move it on to someone else.’
Snatching a breath, I turned my back slightly so that the smokers enjoying the free domestic drama could not see my face. Recently, pictures of David and me had started to appear in the background of the society pages of the Evening Standard and I was conscious of the possibility
of seeing someone who might recognise me.
‘But what do you mean? You said it was OK – you said you were waiting for news and I needed to be on call, when you were ready.’
‘Oh, come on, Anna. I didn’t want to put pressure on you, not with everything else that was happening at the time. But what did you think, that they were going to keep paying you to swan off on fancy holidays, without providing anything in return?’
‘What the fuck, fancy holidays? This is my life, Harry! I’m risking everything I have for this, my whole fucking life is a sham and everything I’ve done has been for them, for you!’ There was a moment’s silence as we both recovered from the admission I had made. But if Harry felt it, he didn’t let it show.
Wiping away the tears forming at the edges of my eyes, I spoke again, more quietly. ‘They can’t just pull me off my life, like I’m some sort of fucking shift worker.’
‘Really, Anna? You really think there is anything these people can’t do? How long has this been going on now? Look, I didn’t want to push you, and I still don’t. I know it’s been a difficult time, but … Well, if we want this not to be turned over to someone else, we’ve got to bring them something.’
For a moment, I paused. Would it really be so bad – being left to get on with my life, with the girls, with David, my job … away from Harry? Quietly, I let the possibility of it wash over me.
As if reading my mind, Harry continued, ‘Of course, they would never let you stay.’
‘What do you mean?’
A flash of disdain passed over his face,
‘Oh, come on, Anna, you can’t seriously think they’re going to just leave and let you get on with life … You and David and the girls, as if none of this ever happened? You really think they’ll trust you not to—’
‘I can be trusted.’
Harry laughed.
‘Anna, you’re a spy – no one trusts you, no one will ever trust a word you say, not really.’
‘What about you?’
He shook his head wistfully, pulling out another cigarette, his eyes pausing for a moment over the packet.
‘I’m under no illusions.’
When he looked up again, there was something in his face I did not recognise, and then it was gone.
Moving forward, he gently curled his fingers into mine.
‘Anna, we’re on the same team, OK?’
He looked into my eyes, a slight pressure from his thumb against my face. Slowly, pushing a strand of hair from my cheek, he leaned in and kissed me carefully, his lips pressing lightly against mine.
A shock, like an electrical current, rippled across my mouth and from nowhere, I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. After a moment, Felicity’s face appeared in my mind and I pulled back, sweeping the tear from my cheek and shaking my head before speaking again.
‘None of this explains who the fuck that woman was, Harry.’
It was the first time I had ever rejected him and I saw the fact of it settle over him, his face adjusting accordingly. For a moment, he was silent, then he said, ‘I’m going to make some calls, OK?’
Flashing a look towards the main road and then back to me, he continued, businesslike.
‘What I think is that this woman must have been from a different department, and because of the nature of what we’re doing – because Clive knows so many people and precisely because we’re not going to let anyone find out about you, because our priority is to protect our assets …’
Asset. The word made me flinch.
‘Because of all that, she might not know what we’ve already got in motion.’
How can I help? Those were the words with which I had pleaded with him, all those years ago, when initially he had refused to bring me in. Weren’t they? I had pushed my way into this, and now that I had slipped through the door, the door had been bolted behind me, just as Harry had warned me it would be. Exactly as I had hoped.
His voice was softer now, tender almost.
‘She probably doesn’t have the clearance to find out, OK? Now you just have to calm down and stop worrying, and I’m going to sort it out. But, regardless, we need to step up our game.’
‘Harry, there’s something I didn’t tell you, something I found while I was away.’
Was I aiming to ingratiate myself with him, to prove my worth; or was it that finally I was ready for this all to come to an end, in a way that I had not been before?
There was something unsettling about his demeanour as I continued talking, against my better judgement.
‘I should have told you straight away, I just thought maybe I could find out more first.’
By now I knew this was a lie. In truth, I had been worried that once he found what he needed, once the pieces of the puzzle had come together, there would be nothing left to hold us together. That was why I had not told him about what I had found out in the Maldives. Maybe it was not so much happiness that had lifted my spirits over the past few months as the feeling of control.
‘On its own, I don’t know how much it means, but I did some digging on the shipping records I got from Jeff’s bag, and the company who owns the boat, Strategic Services, has three shareholders: Clive and Jeff, and the third is a man called Francisco Nguema. He’s some kind of African businessman; as far as I can tell he’s involved in all sorts. I saw them together, in the Maldives, him and Clive, having a meeting one morning.’
I watched his face close in on itself, his fingers forming a fist at his side.
How long did that silence between us last, before he spoke, his voice taut with anger?
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this the last time we met?’
I swallowed, unable to tell him I couldn’t risk it being the end of the case.
‘I only just worked it out. I’m sorry—’
‘You lied to me.’
‘I didn’t lie. It’s like I said, it took time … Anyway you had this information, why the hell didn’t you figure it out? Why is this on me?’
I had hit a nerve. Harry shook his head, the vein in his neck pulsing.
‘You have no fucking idea how much work I’ve had going on, Anna. You think this is the only thing I’m dealing with?’
‘Harry, where are you going? Come on … Shit.’
I reached for him but he brushed my hand away and walked, his rage pulsing through the air around me as he disappeared into a thrum of bodies weaving towards the Tube.
CHAPTER 51
Maria
I woke early with the girls. For the past few days Anna had been tetchy, unreachable. I knew from the stream of one-sided texts and emails, the unanswered midnight pleas, that things between the two of them had been strained in recent months. She was slowing down, her output weakening. I wondered if she was already beginning to question everything.
It had been nearly two years by now that I had been working as the girls’ nanny. Already, I had been a part of the family almost a year more than I had planned. But everything had changed. What would have been the point of returning to my degree now? I was already resigned to what I had to do, and I was good at it. I was learning fast. Unlike Anna, I knew what I had got myself into.
There had been moments during my time at the house that I had found myself a hair’s breadth away from telling her. The truth was, for all her weaknesses, I liked her. I wanted to trust her. From an operational perspective, it made sense; together, we could have formed an alliance that would have made bringing them down infinitely more achievable. Yet, there was something that told me not to. Something that stirred uneasily inside me when I looked into her eyes; something that told me Anna could be the one to get us both killed.
After all, how could I really trust someone who had no idea of what part she played? It was just as my father had told me, one night as we sat with our backs against the wooden slats of my bed, quoting his favourite philosopher, Thales of Miletus. ‘To know yourself is the most difficult thing.’
PART THREE
CHAPTE
R 52
Anna
After that, there was silence.
For a few months after our meeting on Charterhouse Street, the money kept trickling into my bank account just as it had for nearly three years, before, one morning, it stopped. Just like that. From then on Harry, and any trace of him, ceased to exist. The harder I searched for him, the further away from me he seemed to slide.
The girls’ second birthday passed by in a blur, as though I was looking in from the sidelines through frosted glass, David and Maria tending to their every need.
The newspapers I tried, on the pretext that I was hoping to consult with Harry on a piece he had once written, were adamant they had not heard from him in years. The payments, when I finally dared to try and trace them with the help of a seemingly indifferent employee, were registered to a bank in the Cayman Islands which refused to disclose any information whatsoever. It was as if Harry had simply cut a hole around himself and stepped out of the world.
Over the months that followed his leaving, the memory of him, which presented itself frequently and often without warning, mellowed until it was a brief stab of pain that gave way to something else: more a sensation than a feeling, a ripple of cold air over my skin as I tossed in bed at night, David beside me; a prick against my finger as I absent-mindedly ran my fingers along the roses that lined our garden.
In time, I would allow myself to apply the same techniques with Harry that I had been taught to use when unwanted thoughts of Thomas arose. I would learn to allow myself to compartmentalise the swell of memories as they threatened to crush me. But at this moment, I was not ready to forget. The thought of him, the thought of our mission, was all I had to hold onto. The thing upon which I relied to push me through the guilt, the fear, the irrepressible feeling that something was very wrong.
Once my computer had come to life, I opened the search engine, taking a brief glance over my shoulder to make sure the office was empty before typing in his name. It was a ritual I practised again and again, the monotony of it, the certainty of his name right there before me, his face like a calming hand on my shoulder. An assurance that I was not losing my mind.
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