Rip Tide

‘So what happens next?’ asked Liz. She wasn’t going to let Fane wriggle out of this.

‘Well, nothing for the moment. There’s an investigation into her murder underway, and the Greek police are already a little suspicious about why the girl was working for UCSO. It seems she was wildly over-qualified for the job she was doing. Another reason not to have picked her, I’d have thought. Bruno’s keeping his head down.’

Liz said, ‘If we assume Blakey’s suspicions were correct and there is a leak, the question I have is: why? Why would anyone go to so much trouble? I know the UCSO shipments were very valuable, but surely an oil tanker has to be a better bet. If I were a pirate, I’d rather demand a ransom from the likes of Exxon or Shell than from a charity.’

Fane considered this. ‘I agree,’ he said finally, as if conferring a blessing. ‘There must be another agenda being pursued.’

‘And if it turns out that your agent’s death was connected with UCSO, then it’s something important. If it’s worth killing for.’

Fane nodded. ‘The problem is, my hands are tied in Athens right now. At least until the local police are out of the way.’

But I don’t have that difficulty, thought Liz. She said, ‘We have a few leads in Birmingham to follow up. It would be useful to check the UCSO side of things over here as well. If there is a connection between Amir Khan and UCSO, it might not be confined to their Athens office.’

Fane nodded. ‘I’ll ring Blakey and tell him to expect a call from you.’

Honours even, thought Liz.

When Fane suggested having coffee upstairs, she shook her head. She’d got what she’d wanted out of the lunch and had no desire for more of Geoffrey Fane’s company.

‘Oh, come on, Elizabeth,’ he said in his most charming manner. ‘I’ve apologised, so let’s raise a cup of coffee to our further close co-operation.’

Liz relented; it would have been churlish not to. As they climbed the broad staircase up to the library, Fane pointed to the clock. ‘Do you see anything odd about that?’

Liz stared for a moment at the round face with its roman numerals. ‘Yes. There are two sevens and no eight.’

‘Clever girl’, he said approvingly. ‘Not many people notice that.’

‘Why don’t they change it?’

‘It’s been like that since the clock was made. It’s kept that way, perhaps as a reminder that nothing is perfect.’

Was this a further apology? ‘Well,’ Liz said, as she climbed the staircase, ‘perhaps all intelligence services should have a clock like that. To remind us that what we see is not necessarily the truth.’ Their eyes met for an instant and they both smiled. For different reasons, she thought.

Chapter 23

In the library, Liz sat down in a button-backed leather chair while Fane collected coffee from a table by the door. He brought the cups over and sat down next to her, facing the door, stretching out his long legs and leaning back. Given the rather fraught conversation downstairs, he looked surprisingly pleased with himself. He looks like a cat, thought Liz. If he had a tail he’d be swishing it.

One of the porters came in through the open door of the library, followed by another man. The porter pointed to Liz and Fane, and to her astonishment she saw that the newcomer was Martin Seurat. From the expression on his face, Martin seemed as surprised to see Liz as she was to see him.

‘Ah,’ said Fane, ‘Monsieur Seurat is here.’ He looked at Liz archly. ‘I forgot to say that I’d asked him to join us. I thought it could be useful for us to compare notes on Amir Khan.’

As Seurat came across the room towards them, Fane stood up. ‘Martin, how good to see you,’ he said, sounding uncharacteristically warm. ‘You know Elizabeth Carlyle, don’t you?’

Martin had recovered from his initial surprise. ‘Of course – though I know her as Liz. She is Thames House’s liaison with our other Service.’

As the two men sat down, Liz wanted to box Geoffrey Fane around the ears. He had set this up, and was clearly determined to enjoy a joke at their expense – since the Frenchman would have no idea that Fane knew he and Liz were seeing each other.

He said to Martin, ‘Kind of you to come over on a Friday. I hope it won’t spoil your weekend.’

‘I am sure it won’t,’ said Martin, and left it at that. As Fane glanced at his watch Martin winked at Liz.

Fane said, ‘Elizabeth and I have been discussing the prisoner you’re holding… Amir Khan. We were wondering if you’ve got any further with him.’

Martin shook his head. ‘He has continued to be unco-operative. I am due to see him myself next week, and will certainly let you know then if this particular bird begins to sing.’

Liz decided to cut into the conversation. ‘We’re trying to find out more about Khan’s activities here in the UK and how he might have been recruited. As you know, we think he went to Pakistan for training. His parents emigrated from there before he was born. He went supposedly to visit relatives, but we think he attended some sort of training camp.’