Heick sounded contrite. “I should have gone straight to Karl. I had to be sure though. That’s why I needed you to secure his involvement. That piece of paper is extremely valuable if you know how to use it.”
“Well, let’s talk about that.” Thomas set the coffee down and drew himself back in the chair. “I’m not after money. You’ve taken an uninvited interest in my life and the lives of those around me. I want my anonymity back — and theirs. Sheryl, Miranda, her family. Karl too.” He took it as read that Heick wielded that sort of power.
“Agreed. When the job is complete I will turn over my files to you.”
“What about copies?”
“I don’t keep electronic records for unofficial projects.”
Thomas decided to trust him, on that point at least. Karl had said that the Shadow State had a similar policy. “Then tell me what you need.”
Heick filled in more details and then phoned for a car.
* * *
It was more of a clinic than a hospital, though the effect was the same. Once those doors glided back together to seal off the outside world you were in no doubt you’d entered a private domain. The floor gleamed and the subdued lighting conveyed an immediate sense of calm. Thomas had noted three floors on the display. A fourth floor lift button suggested a deeper level of exclusivity. The men and women working there were attractive, as if the elite clientele required beauty around them as part of their treatment. Unless they provided extra services.
The suit outside the private suite at the end of the corridor stood up to greet Heick. Thomas looked for — and noticed — the bulge in the lining of his jacket. They were taking no chances with Jack Langton’s safety.
“You can go in.” Heick eased the door handle down.
Jack was in better shape than Thomas expected, propped up on pillows and watching television.
“Good to see you, Thomas. What, no grapes?” Jack laughed to himself. “Pull up a chair.” He seemed enthralled with the satellite sports channel until Thomas turned the chair away from the screen — all the better to see him.
“So how are you, Jack?”
“Yeah.” He moved the arm in a sling out a short distance and then winced. “Getting there. I was bloody lucky really.”
“What happened?”
Jack froze for an instant and stared at the screen. Only Thomas could see his eyes weren’t following anything.
“What?” Jack recovered his senses. “Oh, just wrong place wrong time. My new friends are taking care of me now.”
Thomas read between the lines. The old friends being Karl’s contacts who had already started the process of turning Jack against his suppliers. Thomas took out his notepad and wrote across one of the pages: Don’t say anything important — room might be bugged.
Jack’s eyes widened. Thomas figured he was starting to realise he’d jumped from the frying pan. Jack gestured for the pad and added a line below: Am I in danger?
Thomas ignored the pen in front of him. “When do you reckon the doctor will let you out of here?”
Jack looked distinctly green around the gills. “Er, not sure yet — they’re keeping me in for observation.”
Thomas grinned. Got that right, mate. “Nat and the family are fine. Someone’s with them now, making sure they’re okay.” He pointed to the door and Jack opened his mouth wide, bearing his teeth. “I’ll give them your love, shall I, Jack?”
As he got up to leave, Jack grabbed his wrist with his good hand. Thomas waited as Jack scrawled another line: Please help me.
Why?
Jack grew frantic now, adding a feverish note that Thomas had to concentrate to decipher: Got a meeting — could make us both rich if I get out in time. My contact introducing me — someone influential.
Thomas felt a lump forming in the pit of his stomach and scrawled back: Is she Belgian?
Jack stared up and nodded as if Thomas had just pulled off the world’s greatest card trick.
“Right then, Jack, I’d better be off.” He tore out the page and handed it back, turning the chair round to face the television. Jack didn’t bother trying to return the note, he knew the score. He’d already started eating it when Thomas reached the door.
“Don’t forget your old friends, Jack.”
Jack stopped chewing long enough to mouth a one-syllable reply.
Chapter 34
Heick walked Thomas out the building and kept schtum until they reached the street.
“You know the venue and you know the date. It has to be done that week — enough evidence to expose me without endangering or humiliating Henriette. Understood?”
Thomas nodded. Poor bastard. Heick sounded less sure of himself than ever.
“And you don’t want to know—”
Heick scratched at his lapel. “I don’t want to know anything until it’s all been done and you present me with the footage.”
Thomas supposed he should have been surprised when a thick white envelope emerged from Heick’s suit. It felt heavy, as if it held a thousand secrets.
Heick’s arms fell down by his side. “Additional information and expenses.”
Thomas didn't ask. He knew how to take a hint.
* * *
By the time Thomas reached Paddington Green police station he finally felt he understood the bigger picture, and how he’d unwittingly set events in motion when he rescued Barbara Leibowicz’s baby from Moretti’s people. Although he hadn’t quite figured out the pecking order between Barbara Leibowicz, Moretti and Jack Langton. In the end, what did it matter who was the bigger scumbag? No, but what did matter was a tenuous thread from Leibowicz to Moretti to Heick, and one from Jack Langton to Henriette Voclain and Heick. If she really was being offered a promotion within the Shadow State, she must have already proved her candidacy over the years. And now, thanks to Heick, she was also on Karl’s radar too. Heick must want all bases covered.
He pushed the door and smiled to the desk sergeant, who turned her nose up at him and his SSU ID as she clicked the buzzer. And a lovely day to you too, Officer. Thomas’s brain was still fitting the pieces together while he took the stairs in twos. Hadn’t Sir Peter Carroll been quick to dismiss the possibility that Henriette and Heick could be involved together? He was still pondering the ‘why’ when he met Karl coming down, coffees in hand.
“Are you psychic, or is Christine tracking my ID card again?”
“Your paranoia does you great credit, Tommo.”
Thomas smiled. That was true, and Karl hadn’t given him a straight answer. Safely inside the information room, Thomas swapped a bulky envelope for a facsimile of a coffee and a small packet of biscuits. Karl ran the envelope under his nose, as though it were a cigar.
“I’ll play mother, shall I?” Karl broke the seal and ran his thumb over the edge of the banknotes. “Fifties and twenties . . . I’d estimate, maybe four grand.”
Thomas was past being impressed. “Good. We’ll buy some new surveillance equipment. And we’ll need to book a room for a week at the Asterion Hotel. Let me explain . . .”
Thomas talked and Karl made notes — a role reversal. But Karl, being Karl, not only asked questions, he asked the right ones.
“Where do the meetings take place and how do we know who’s attending?”
Thomas paused then, because the spectre of Jack Langton was on his mind. And there was no time like the present.
“How long ago did you first connect Jack Langton to the Shadow State?”
Karl ran a hand lightly over his mouth. “Look, Thomas, you have to understand . . .”
“Jesus, Karl. Come on — two years? Three?”
Karl put his pen down. “Remember when we first got acquainted in the service — properly, I mean. And how I had you figured as another spy within the Surveillance Support Unit?” He pressed his hands together. “Well, of course I checked you out. Yes, all right, and the lives of those around you. Standard procedure. Then I came across Jack Langton — practically a friend of the fa
mily and he’s a dealer.”
“So you investigated him as well?”
Karl tried a Celtic charm offensive. “Come on, Tommo, he’s not exactly mastermind material. Obviously he had contacts from somewhere . . .”
“Is it true that every assignment we get is deliberately chosen by you and Christine?”
Karl’s patience had worn thin. “Thomas, what do you think we do here?”
“Honestly? Sometimes I have trouble telling.”
“Let me paint you a picture. The Shadow State is a threat to whatever passes for democracy in Europe. A network of industrialists and politicians and military . . .”
Thomas swallowed some coffee. It tasted bitter, which seemed appropriate. “I’ve heard this speech before.”
“What do you want me to say? I used you? All right, I did. I’ve been pursuing a lead and in a few days’ time that will take us directly to Henriette Voclain, who — Heick tells us — will be given higher office.”
Karen Edwards’ heavy footfalls approached the door. Karl scooped up the envelope and shut it in a drawer.
“Hey, lads, I just wanted to let you know that DI Ferguson called me in about the Leibowiczs. It’s all legit apparently, only I’ve been kept out of the loop because of my association with you two.”
Thomas laughed. An internal turf war — the stupid bastards.
“Give her the camera code, Karl. We owe her that for Theo Pritchard.”
Karl took out a piece of paper from his wallet. “Log on to this website and you can configure the device to alert you when someone goes to the Leibowiczs’ back door. Chances are, you’ll get there first.”
“Thanks.” She looked genuinely moved.
Thomas had come up with another idea. “Can you get us the address for Pritchard’s granddaughter?”
Karl rolled his eyes. “You are a total boy scout.”
By five o’clock Thomas had packaged up a thousand pounds in fifties and sent it anonymously from the nearest post office. It was the least Heick’s money could do.
* * *
Apart from a slice of the cash for Karl’s expenses, Thomas kept hold of the envelope. He figured he had other debts to settle.
“I appreciate the gesture.” John Wright accepted the two grand without counting it and placed it in his office safe — Thomas did the decent thing and turned away at the crucial moment.
They rejoined the family in the front room and Thomas listened to their Spanish holiday plans — a three-hour Stansted flight to Alicante, followed by a seven-seater road journey from the airport. Having been on a couple of holidays with the clan in the past, he felt a pang of envy.
Miranda seemed to have lost her membership card for their glee club. They’d already rowed about the trip the previous night when he’d misjudged the situation by offering to cover her losses from the bar. It turned out that not only did he not understand women, he also didn’t have a scooby about how much a successful bar could turn over in a good week.
He sat, watching Miranda as she observed the chatter around them. And even wondering if she’d packed the green bikini that he really loved seeing her in failed to lift his mood. He played the part, determined not to ruin the buzz for everyone else — an Oscar winning performance, unless you counted Miranda on the judging panel.
Once upon a time, after witnessing someone being shot — even though the bastard deserved it — Christine had referred him to a counsellor. The good doctor had asked him whether he compartmentalised his feelings and he’d laughed at the question. Didn’t everybody?
After John and Diane had confirmed their Spanish trip, Thomas arranged for an artist friend of Jack Langton’s to look after them over there. John Wright had the details. They were cutting it fine though, leaving only a day before his own excursion with Karl to the Asterion. He stayed over at the house so he could see them off first thing in the morning. Sheryl would meet them at the airport. He’d have preferred to have them all together from the get-go but he could hardly give out orders.
Miranda and her brothers went to their bedrooms, leaving him with John and Diane. He went through their itinerary again.
“And no one else knows where you’re going?’
“Straight,” Diane insisted. “Anyone who does know we’re away thinks we’re in Portugal. Like you said.”
He smiled. He’d done the research and given them flight times and enough pre-holiday tittle-tattle to convince a jury.
“You want a drink, Thomas?”
“No thanks.” He waved the idea away.
John poured himself a brandy, took a sip and then passed it over to Diane. There was something touching in that, romantic almost. Diane swirled the glass and peered into it, as if she could read the future.
“You gonna be alright, Thomas?”
“I’ve got Karl. Nothing bad ever happens around him.”
Their smiles didn’t outlast the brandy vapour.
“Miranda knows she can contact me at the Asterion, on my new mobile. I’ll be fine.” Except, right that moment he didn’t feel fine. He could always talk to John and Diane about anything except his job, and he saw no good reason to break with tradition now. So he swallowed it and said goodnight.
He knocked on Miranda’s door before turning the handle. It wasn’t locked.
“Any thoughts on where I should end my tan?” She stepped out of the ensuite bathroom and let her robe fall open.
“Why don’t I just show you?”
Chapter 35
“How is this going to work, exactly?” Thomas pored over the hotel plans.
“There are conference suites on the first and second floors. Ms Voclain will be staying on the fourth floor — room four-three-nine.” Karl tapped a ruler against the paperwork.
“You hacked into the hotel system?” Thomas raised his coffee cup.
“Well, I had help from Heick. I’m not a gambling man but I’ll wager Heick’s organisation—”
“The Bureau of Intelligence and Research,” Thomas cut in.
“So he tells you! Heick’s outfit either financed the hotel, or they own it — same thing to all intents and purposes. Security’s tight around the conference rooms where the formal business meetings are held. They’re absolutely out of bounds to us.”
“Pity.”
Karl lifted his makeshift paperweights and the plan scrolled in from both sides. “Don’t you worry about that. I may have managed to call in another favour.”
“Would that be Teresa again?”
“No comment. Anyhow, we go in tomorrow — Heick has set everything up. All we do is receive the images. Did I mention he’s vetoed any sound recordings?”
“You what?” Thomas stared incredulously.
“He wants to undermine Henriette and himself, not betray other Shadow State members. They have long memories and an even longer reach. So it’s exposure by association.”
“And you’re gonna accept that?”
“For the time being. Right, let’s check the equipment one more time.”
Thomas had always respected thorough. He opened the case and carefully moved the devices, placing them on the table in the same pattern and with approximate spacings. It wasn’t exactly an Aladdin’s cave for spies: three micro cameras, a couple of tracers, two RF detectors and a couple of anti-intrusion devices. Thomas held out his phone for inspection.
“Do you want to test it one more time, Karl?”
“Why not.”
A simple modification — according to Karl, anyway — enabling a person to take a call and have the phone’s camera work at the same time, and without it showing on screen. Best of all it filmed automatically for the duration of the call, for side-on surveillance.
Thomas picked up Karl’s call and walked around the flat in conversation, taking in his photographic wall gallery. Perfect. After okaying the footage, he powered down the phone and double checked that he’d packed the charger in one of the bags.
“We’re all set for tomorrow then. Incidenta
lly, are you bringing any personal equipment?”
Karl shook his head. “Lizzie and Robert aren’t coming on this trip.”
No Brownings then. Thomas wondered if he ought to tell Karl about the Makarov pistol already wrapped in a sweatshirt and stowed away.
* * *
There was no cover story. For the duration of their stay they’d work days at the police station and spend the evenings at the hotel, unless something interesting came up. DS Edwards had allowed them some leeway — split shifts if needed — as long as the data and evidence analysis didn’t suffer. Perish the thought.
They left Thomas’s flat and travelled to the Asterion by tube. Thomas insisted they pay by cash to prevent anyone tracing an Oyster Card. Likewise, they left their SSU IDs behind at the flat, relying instead on the temporary Met Police passes that Edwards had allowed them to carry. They wouldn’t be mistaken for coppers, but they were obviously police staff of some kind.
Heick had set the rules in stone and the first one was no contact. They knew which room was Henriette’s and Heick had already trained a hidden camera on the door. So far so good, but Thomas wondered what Heick wasn’t telling them.
Tower Hill station was awash with tourists and over-enthusiastic tour guides offering cheap deals to unwary travellers. They muscled through, two bags apiece, and walked the short distance to the Asterion. It wasn’t hard to find — the collection of flags of the world on the roof was a bit of a clue.
Thomas checked in first, making sure his temporary pass saw daylight. He leant against the reception desk casually, as Karl went through the same rigmarole, and noted the business conference signage and the list of sponsors. Among them were a smattering of global brands and a few unknowns such as ASI. Except, now he knew all about ASI in a way that many of their investors never would. It didn’t rile him as much as he thought it might. Karl had long since explained that the Shadow State had infiltrated most major institutions at some level. Chances were that the majority of the delegates were simply there for the usual reasons: conduct business, make contacts, plunder their expense accounts and enjoy illicit sex with strangers.
Shadow State Page 15