‘Could do with a check throughout the evening, though. See if there’s anyone hanging around outside the building.’
‘That’s easy enough. I can put a BT technician in the street and run a PCSO by now and again. I’ll have a guy waiting at the Stoke Newington end so one other and me should be enough in the Strand. Do you need pictures?’
‘That would be great, Luke. There’s a snag, though. If Raj is being followed then I’ll need Harvey checked out too.’
‘Where’s he?’
‘He’s at the London Metropolitan University – Holloway Road, Islington. He’s in the business school today and I’ve told him to stay there all day. I know it’s all short notice but if Raj is hot then there’s a chance that Harvey is too.’
Lesporis nodded thoughtfully. ‘Not a problem,’ he said. ‘If Raj is tailed from the Strand I’ll know pretty quickly, so once we’ve identified the tail I can peel off and head up to Islington. I’ll get in place and the others can join me as and when. Do you have any idea who might be after him?’
‘He said Asian so my worry is al-Qaeda.’
‘They have some real pros, but they also have a fair number of amateurs,’ said Lesporis.
‘The guy Raj thinks was following him was almost on top of him, so not a pro. But it’s not the one he saw that I’m worried about; it’s the ones he didn’t see.’
‘Understood,’ said Lesporis, scribbling a note on his pad. He smiled, showing perfect teeth. ‘Consider it done. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know anything.’
‘You’re a star, Luke. Thanks.’
Shepherd’s mobile rang. It was Button. ‘A little bird tells me that you’re in the house,’ she said.
‘I’m in with Luke, fixing up some counter-surveillance on Raj and Harvey.’
‘Problem?’
‘I’m not sure. We’ll know in a few hours.’
‘Can you pop up to my office on your way out?’
‘I’ll be right up. Luke and I are done,’ said Shepherd.
Button was sipping a cup of tea when Shepherd walked into her office. She flashed him a smile and asked if he wanted anything but he shook his head and sat down. ‘I just wanted a chat about what happened on the boat,’ she said.
‘All good,’ he said.
‘You were shot, Spider.’
‘I was wearing a vest.’
‘Thank God.’
‘Actually, God had very little to do with it,’ said Shepherd.
‘You nearly died.’
‘I’ve been shot before, Charlie.’
‘I’m just saying you were in a very violent situation and I wanted to check you were okay.’
‘Physically or mentally?’
She smiled. ‘You know what I’m going to suggest.’
‘A sit-down with Caroline Stockmann?’
‘I think it’s called for. I’ll get her to give you a call and fix it up.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘It’s a pity that it went the way it did,’ she said.
‘You’re telling me.’
‘I meant in terms of the investigation. We really needed to know what Kettering and Thompson were planning.’
‘Thompson will talk,’ said Shepherd. ‘With Kettering out of the picture he’ll sing like the proverbial.’
‘The problem is that Kettering was the top dog. And the fact that he’s dead means his European contacts will go to ground. We’ll sew up the UK end, that’s a given, but my feeling is that they were part of a bigger plan and that plan is probably going to go ahead no matter what happened here.’
‘I think you’ll find that Thompson knows a lot about what was going on,’ said Shepherd. ‘He was the one always mouthing off about the global conspiracy. He’d be the one pushing for coordinated action with the Europeans, I’m sure of it.’
‘We’ll certainly give it a go,’ said Button. ‘I tell you, it’s hard enough dealing with the Islamic fundamentalists but when we have home-grown right-wingers threatening terrorist outrages as well we’re going to be stretched resource-wise.’
‘I don’t know. Penetrating groups like Kettering’s is a lot easier than trying to get into the Islamic cells.’
‘No argument there,’ said Button. ‘If it wasn’t for Chaudhry and Malik we wouldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve managed so far.’
‘I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite them,’ said Shepherd.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Charlie, they gave up Bin Laden. And by dropping that bloody map the Americans have put their lives on the line.’
‘Is that what the counter-surveillance is about?’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘Raj thinks he’s being followed. He might just be jumping at shadows. We’ll know by tonight.’
‘Keep me in the picture.’
‘Soon as I know, you’ll know,’ said Shepherd.
Malik looked at his watch. It was four o’clock in the afternoon and his last lecture had just finished. He went to the library, which was almost empty, and sat down at a table by the window. He pulled a bottle of water from his backpack and took a sip. He had three essays to write but couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm for starting any of them so he opened up his laptop and started browsing through YouTube, listening through headphones so as not to disturb the other library-users.
He started off looking at music videos but soon got bored with that. He searched for ‘suicide bombers’ and began looking through the videos, mainly news footage of attacks in Iraq, Israel and Pakistan. There were some comedy videos too, though Malik failed to see why anyone thought it was acceptable to make fun of terrorists.
A girl sat down opposite him and he hurriedly closed the YouTube window, even though she couldn’t see the screen.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?’ She was in her twenties with shoulder-length black curly hair and a wide smile.
Her skin wasn’t quite as dark as Malik’s and though she had a definite accent he couldn’t place where she was from.
‘Sure, yeah, no problem,’ he said. He’d been so busy watching videos that he hadn’t noticed how the library had filled up and now most of the tables were occupied. ‘I’m only skiving really.’
She leaned over the table towards him, her voice a low whisper. ‘Yeah, me too,’ she said. ‘I left my key in the flat and my flatmate won’t be back until eight so I thought I’d just hang out here.’
‘Yeah, it’s one of the few places left in London where you can sit for free,’ he said.
She gestured at his laptop. ‘Were you watching a movie?’
‘Just browsing through YouTube,’ he said. ‘Nothing special.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Harvey. Well, it’s Harveer but everyone calls me Harvey.’
‘Harveer? Is that Indian?’
‘Pakistani,’ said Malik.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s no big deal. What about you? Where are you from?’
She grinned mischievously. ‘Guess.’
‘Guess?’ He sat back and linked his fingers. He studied her olive skin, her dark-brown eyes and her jet-black curly hair. Not Asian, he was fairly sure of that. Her skin was too light. Her English was good and there was a trace of an American accent, which probably meant that she’d gone to an international school somewhere. She wasn’t oriental and she wasn’t dark enough to be from the Philippines or Indonesia.
Her smile widened. ‘Do you want a clue?’
‘I’m thinking Lebanese,’ he said. ‘Or one of the Gulf states.’
She raised one eyebrow. ‘Well done,’ she said. ‘Qatar. No one ever gets where I’m from.’
‘I’ve never been,’ he said. ‘What’s it like?’
‘Hot in the summer. Dusty. Nice restaurants. That’s pretty much it. I prefer London.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ he said.
‘And you study here, right?’
Malik nodded. ‘I’m doing an MBA in Business Studies.’
‘Computing.’ He pulled a face. ‘Hated it, but my dad’s a programmer so he pushed me into it.’
‘So you’re going to work in the City?’
Malik frowned. ‘The City?’
‘That’s what guys with MBAs do, isn’t it? Work for a bank or a broker. Become a master of the universe.’
Malik shook his head. ‘I’m going to open a sushi restaurant. The best sushi restaurant in London. Top end. I’m going to fly in the best fish from around the world and employ only top Japanese chefs.’
‘I love sushi,’ she said.
‘Then you can come to the opening night.’
‘You’re really going to do it? It must cost a fortune to set up a restaurant.’
‘I’m working on the finances,’ said Malik. ‘But it’s going to happen.’ He leaned forward. ‘So you know my name, what’s yours?’
‘Nadia,’ she said. ‘Hey, are you good with computers?’
‘I studied them for three years,’ said Malik. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘My laptop keeps freezing but I don’t know why. Maybe you could have a look at it some time.’
‘Sure.’ He nodded at her bag. ‘Have you got it with you?’
‘It’s at home. Can I call you?’
‘You want my number?’
She smiled prettily. ‘That’s normally how it works, Harvey.’ She took out her mobile phone and looked at him expectantly. He grinned and gave her his number. He hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of spending the evening in the library, but it was turning out to be the best place he could have been. ‘What are you smiling at?’ she asked.
‘Just pleased to meet you,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t planned to be here but I’m glad I came.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘I was thinking exactly the same thing,’ she said.
Chaudhry left King’s at just after five o’clock. He walked along to the tube station at Charing Cross with the hood of his duffel coat up, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. He went down to the platform, took out his Galaxy tablet and began reading, just as he did most days when he was on the tube. John’s instructions had been clear. No looking around, no backtracking, no looking for a tail. And no looking for the counter-surveillance people either. When the train arrived he managed to find a seat in the middle of the carriage. And he kept his eyes on his tablet.
He stuck to his instructions, and the only time he looked left or right was when he had to cross a road and even then he made a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with anyone nearby. When he got home he got himself a can of Coke from the fridge. He was halfway through it when his phone rang. He looked at the screen. It said ‘Dentist’, which meant it was John Whitehill calling.
‘How’s the weather?’ asked Whitehill.
For a moment Chaudhry was confused, but then he remembered the procedure. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I was imagining it, right? Just me being oversensitive.’
‘I’m afraid not. You were being followed.’
Chaudhry’s stomach turned over. ‘Shit,’ he said.
‘Two Asians. One in a blue Puffa jacket, just like you said. He was waiting for you outside the university and got on the tube with you. He was in the next carriage. The other guy was waiting for you at Manor House.’
Chaudhry could feel his heart pounding. ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he said. ‘I’m screwed, right?’
‘There’s no need to panic, Raj. You’re at home and we’ve got your flat under surveillance. Nothing can happen to you while you’re there. I’ve got two men with guns in a car round the corner and they can be with you in seconds.’
‘Where’s Harvey? He should be home by now. You said you talked to him, right?’
‘Raj, take it easy. Harvey’s on his way home. All the signs are that he’s not being followed, but we won’t know for sure until he gets back to the flat. When he does get back, make sure you stay in for the night. No popping out for a takeaway.’
‘I’ll be hiding under the bed, mate,’ said Chaudhry.
Shepherd laughed. ‘There’s no need for that,’ he said. ‘Look, it’s probably nothing. Maybe someone that Khalid has sent to check that you’re on the straight and narrow. Make sure you’re not out drinking or letting the side down.’
‘What about the mosque?’ asked Chaudhry. ‘Do you think it’s safe? I mean, I can pray at home, it’s no biggie, but I’d prefer to go to the mosque.’
‘Let’s wait and see what we can find out about your tails,’ said Shepherd.
‘Seriously, I’m shitting myself here.’
‘I understand, Raj. But if there was any question of them intending to harm you it would have happened already. Surveillance is just that. Watching. And like I said, so long as you stay put nothing can happen to you.’
‘And you’re not lying about the men with guns? You’ve got armed cops nearby?’
‘I told you I’d never lie to you, Raj. But they’re not cops. They work for MI5. Different rules. They don’t wear uniforms and they don’t make a song and dance about doing what has to be done. In the very unlikely event of anyone trying to do you any harm they’ll be straight round and they’ll take care of it.’
‘Thanks, John,’ said Chaudhry. He grinned. ‘It’s funny, I know that’s not your real name but I can’t think of you as anything other than John.’
‘John’s fine. A rose by any other name and all that.’
‘Well, whatever your name is, I’m glad you’ve got my back.’ He ended the call and switched on the TV. He had studying to do but he couldn’t concentrate so he lay on the sofa and watched the news and then a very unfunny situation comedy about three Americans sharing a flat in New York that seemed to be about five times the size of the one that he and Malik lived in. He got up and opened the fridge but there was nothing in it that he wanted to eat. He found a packet of pistachio nuts in a cupboard and began to eat them, piling the broken shells on a copy of The Economist.
It was just before eight when Chaudhry heard the sound of a key in his lock. He bolted off the sofa and dashed to the kitchen. He grabbed a breadknife from the sink and stood in the kitchen doorway, his heart pounding. The door opened slowly.
‘Harvey, is that you?’
‘Who the bloody hell are you expecting? Ninja assassins?’
The door opened wide and Harvey walked in, shaking his head. Chaudhry ducked back into the kitchen and returned the knife to the sink.
Malik closed the door and tossed his bag on to the floor.
‘Lock it, will you, mate?’ said Chaudhry. ‘And put the bolt across. Do you want a coffee?’
‘Yeah, coffee’d be good,’ said Malik. He locked the door. ‘Has John called?’
‘A while back. He said he’d call again once they’d followed you.’
‘There was no one following me,’ said Malik, dropping down on to the sofa and reaching into the bag of nuts.
‘You shouldn’t have been looking,’ snapped Chaudhry. ‘Didn’t you listen? We had to come home and not do any checks at all. There were people doing that.’
Malik swung his feet up on to the coffee table. ‘Chill, brother,’ he said. ‘I did what John said. But I was the only one who got on the bus and no one got off with me. So I can’t see that anyone could have been following me.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s the remote?’
‘Why are you so bloody cool about this?’ said Chaudhry. ‘There was someone following me. Don’t you get what that means?’
‘John said it was probably nothing.’ He shelled a nut and popped it into his mouth.
Chaudhry walked towards him, his eyes blazing. ‘Are you retarded? He said that because he doesn’t want us to worry. You know what he told me? He said there are guys with guns waiting round the corner, ready to step in if we get in trouble. Does that sound like nothing, you soft bastard?’
Malik stopped chewing, his forehead creased into deep frown lines.
‘I’m serious, mate. Guys with guns.
We could be in deep shit here. Of course John doesn’t want us panicking, but that doesn’t mean we should sit around like all’s well with the world.’
Chaudhry’s mobile rang and both men froze. It was on the coffee table by Malik’s feet. It continued to ring – ‘Poker Face’ by Lady Gaga – so Malik picked it up, then he grinned.
‘It’s your dentist,’ he said.
Chaudhry’s face hardened. ‘That’s John.’
Malik turned the screen towards him. ‘It says it’s your dentist. Relax, will you?’
Chaudhry took the phone from him and pressed the green button.
‘How’s the weather?’ asked Whitehill.
‘As well as can be expected,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Harvey’s just got home.’
‘I know, that’s why I’m calling. There’s good news and bad news.’
‘Okay,’ said Chaudhry hesitantly.
‘The good news is that Harvey was clear. There was no one on his tail.’
‘And what’s the bad news?’
‘The two men who followed you are sitting outside in a van.’
Shepherd checked his rear-view mirror but Malik’s Golf was nowhere to be seen. He slowed to sixty. ‘I’ve lost eyeball,’ he said into his radio mic.
‘Delta One, I have them,’ said the driver of the surveillance vehicle closest to the VW. ‘We’re just coming up to junction three. All clear.’
Delta One was in a white Transit van with the name of a building company on the side. There were another two MI5 vehicles following Malik and Chaudhry. Delta Two was a middle-aged lady in a Mini and Delta Three was a young man in a suit at the wheel of a Ford Mondeo. All were highly trained in counter-surveillance and took it in turns to get close to the VW and check for anyone following.
Shepherd was in his Volvo and had been ahead of them since they had joined the M1. Prior to getting on the motorway Malik had carried out two simple anti-surveillance measures. He’d gone completely round a roundabout and exited without indicating, and he’d made a left turn after indicating right. Both times the VW had been closely followed by one of the MI5 surveillance team.
By the time the VW had joined the M1, the surveillance team were sure that there was no one following, but they had continued to keep the car under observation while Malik changed his speed according to Shepherd’s instructions: a spell at 80 mph was followed by five minutes at 50 mph. When they had reached junction two he indicated that he was going to leave the motorway but at the last moment changed lanes and continued heading north.
False Friends (The 9th Spider Shepherd Thriller) Page 33