Whistleblower

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 64

  Jan was also on the E19 heading towards Antwerp and home to Brussels. But, near Breda and unable to resist the temptation any longer, he pulled off, went into a rest area and plugged the voice recorder into his own laptop on the passenger seat and listened. Not bad. He smiled to himself, then phoned Jonathan.

  "The first piece of recorded evidence, Jon. Guido's voice in full soprano. Tell Jim. I'm now heading home. Any idea where Tom is?"

  Tom Hanrahan was still driving south in his small rented Opel following the big BMW's red lights and wondering whether it was heading for Brussels - in which case he was worried he might lose it. But suddenly he saw its orange indicators come on and take the N16 into Mechelen. it was now ten o'clock, the traffic much lighter. At a junction, dominated by a tall, red and yellow MacDonalds sign, the BMW turned and headed straight for the MacDonalds car park. Tom followed. He parked behind a sign that said Family Combo Special and sat and watched the BMW. Nothing happened for twenty minutes. Then the driver's door opened and the tall woman emerged. In the street lighting, Tom saw that the headscarf was gone. Instead, long black hair hung below her shoulders. She was a smart looking woman in a dark suit and she wandered around her own car, speaking on a mobile phone. Tom got out, strolled passed the 'Play Place', around a short hedge and stood in the shadow. He wrote down the BMW's registration number and returned to his own car to watch as the woman got back into hers.

  The area was even quieter and darker now. A light drizzle was falling but a few cars were still using the drive-in. Then a big black Mercedes turned into the car park, circled around and parked a few spaces from the BMW. Tom watched a small, round man in a suit get out, open the rear passenger door and pull out an umbrella that seemed to sparkle in the lights. He put it up over his head and strutted quickly around to the passenger door of the BMW, shook the umbrella and got in. It could only have been a few metres but the man seemed determined not to get wet. Five minutes later, the rain had stopped and he emerged carrying the laptop that Jan had used and the rolled up umbrella. He gave a delicate wave to the woman in the BMW, opened the rear door of the Mercedes, put the umbrella on the back shelf, shut the door and got into the front. Then he drove off.

  Tom now followed the Mercedes at a safe distance, but too far to read its registration plate.