by Ted Tayler
Colin lay on his bed for a while thinking of Athena and the prospect of keeping a close watch on her for a few days.
“It’s a dirty job,” he thought, “but someone has to do it.”
His thoughts drifted to the morning when they swam in the pool together.
“This isn’t doing me any favours,” he muttered. “I’d better get off this bed and either take a cold shower or maybe go to the pool and cool off for an hour.”
Colin spent the next few hours exercising; first, in the gym, then in the pool. He ate a light lunch and returned to his quarters. The promised cash had arrived, and his e-mail inbox included a positive response from the stores. Everything he needed would be ready on Friday. Sketchy details of Athena’s trip were also there. He might need to be adaptable. If she stuck close to her parents for most of the time, it would be okay. If she went off-piste, he might have a problem.
Colin delivered the proposed itinerary for the Dunfermline job to Erebus in the main building.
“Ingenious, dear boy,” he chuckled, “that shouldn’t raise too many suspicions, well done. Good hunting at the weekend. It’s a long trip, so if you get home late from London, you can catch up an hour’s sleep on the train on Friday morning.”
Colin was leaving when the old man added: -
“Try to remember what this London job is about won’t you Phoenix? The bright lights of London and the beautiful people it attracts can be beguiling. You must be on your guard throughout; there must be no, shall we say, distractions?”
“No problem,” said Colin. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
He had barely made it through the door and was closing it behind him when he heard the old man say,
“Ah, but will she dear boy, will she?”
CHAPTER 19
Meanwhile, in deepest Devon, it was Tuesday afternoon. The lousy weather of the weekend had cleared and a worker from a nearby farm passed the Range Rover for the fourth time. Alarm bells rang; and not just in a literal sense.
Later that afternoon the local newspaper carried a brief statement in the ‘Latest’ column on its website.
‘The naked body of a man, believed to be in his seventies, was discovered in a tent near Crazy Well Pool, Princeton earlier this afternoon. Clothing and other camping equipment were found at the rear of the tent. Police are not seeking anyone else in connection with this incident. Next-of-kin have been informed. More news in our next update.’
A copy of the extract arrived from the surveillance section. Colin asked them to pass the information on to Erebus and make sure the boss saw future updates too. He explained that he would be absent for the next seventy-two hours. Maybe Erebus needn’t feed the police any misinformation on Sir Godfrey. Better safe than sorry, the next updates might be different if the police can’t find plausible answers to their questions.
Colin trawled through his wardrobe and found a few things that fitted the bill. He asked the others in the stable block to see if they had items to spare with no luck. He discovered that the ‘dressing up’ box wasn’t much use for this job either. Most agents had to blend in with the lowlifes of the world, not rub shoulders with the high rollers.
He settled for a minimal choice from his shirts and trousers but selected a variety of jackets and coats. Might as well be comfortable and warm on this stakeout at least. He wanted to get to London and find a place to stay tonight. To avoid bumping into Athena on the train up to town in the morning. Colin was aware he needed a suitable hotel. Erebus might baulk at paying three hundred quid for two nights, bed-and-breakfast.
Colin Bailey had his own comfort zone. He could rough it in a bandwagon or sleep in a field if required. But if he had the chance to spend time in the ‘smoke’ he needed to stay true to his roots; even if someone else paid for it. No five-star accommodation for him. He’d be just as happy to find the closest budget price hotel to Athena’s parent's gaff and use that as his base.
The train arrived at Paddington Station just before a quarter to six that evening. A ten-minute trip took him to Kensington Road and his wish was granted. He soon settled into his forty-nine pounds a night room and felt at home. Well, maybe not at home, but not out of place, that was a start.
The next couple of hours Colin spent on a reconnaissance of the Belgravia home and the surrounding district. He didn’t stand around in one place too long in case the local neighbourhood watch reported a dishevelled person in the vicinity. A short trip over to Harley Street familiarised him with where Athena’s mother had to visit for her appointment. He made copious notes on tube and bus timetables; then identified shortcuts that might prove useful. At ten o’clock he found a pub and drank a beer; then he found himself drawn towards the Pizza Express. He was powerless to resist. It seemed just the thing to help a man have a good night’s sleep–exercise, beer, and a pizza. He slept well and dreamt not of Athena but a cuddly comedian from Dudley, West Midlands.
Athena endured the commuter-packed journey from Bath to Paddington. She was swept along by the crush of people leaving the platforms making their way into the dark corners of the earth. She hated this mode of transport, she much preferred the car. Her preference was for something with a throaty growl under the bonnet; open-topped would be even better.
The problem was these days London had become a nightmare for a car driver travelling in from the sticks. Congestion zones, bus lanes and nowhere to park that didn’t cost a fortune. The train and tube had become a necessary evil. Made even more horrid because of her experiences six years ago.
Athena cut herself off from the world, the horns and sirens with white noise through her headphones. Nobody ever looked up or talked to anyone nearby on the underground these days. She prayed she didn’t run into a face from her past. This trip was a quick dash to her parent’s house. She wanted to wait for them to get home and then give her Mum moral support tomorrow when she faced that worrying appointment with the specialist. As soon as they learned what they were dealing with, then she could decide on a plan of action with her father and return to Larcombe Manor.
The next stop was Sloane Square. She had opted for this as it was handy for her family home plus she could pick up a few things at the shops as she walked to Vincent Gardens. She must get her Mum a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine for herself for a start. Milk, bread, and a few basics would be sensible too. Her parents had been out of the country for a while, Athena doubted the fridge contained much that was still edible. Her list grew as she headed out of the station and made her way home.
Meanwhile, just around the corner from Vincent Gardens, Colin kept watching. Dressed in a natty shirt and sweater combo with dark slacks, he felt like a tailor’s dummy, but at least, he blended in with the crowd. While he sat in his trendy street café, nursing a hot cup of coffee, he was fine. Once he had got his fingers warm and put his fleece jacket back on he’d brave the elements. It was dry; but boy it was a chilly morning.
Colin had chosen this spot because it gave him the best view of Athena’s home and the adjoining main street, without being stood on her front doorstep. There was no chance of her slipping by without him spotting her. Just as he thought he should ask for a refill, she appeared.
The sight of Athena striding along the street with her shopping bags reminded Colin of that first day at Larcombe. A galleon in full sail, and no mistake. Erebus had been right. Other pedestrians scattered before her. Nothing or nobody got in her way. She marched into the side road, skipped up the steps to the bright red door and although she fumbled with her keys, she was safe inside in seconds.
“Nine points five from the Swiss judge,” said Colin. He finished his coffee, picked up his fleece and made his way to the door of the café. A moving target was the order of the day. He walked further up the street and bought a paper in the newsagents.
He didn’t fancy reading it, but the Financial Times proved a useful screen. On the off-chance, Athena reappeared and took a second look at the man wandering along the opposite pavement.
Time drags on a stakeout Colin discovered. One plus point of being in London was there was always traffic and pedestrians by the hundred. So, he never felt exposed. The odds of someone looking out of a window and thinking ‘who is that man lurking outside?’ were a million to one.
The seventeenth taxi to turn into Vincent Gardens delivered Athena’s parents back home. Athena appeared in the doorway within seconds of the cab stopping; she hugged her father and helped her mother indoors. Father persuaded the cabbie to lug their heavy suitcases from the cab to the hallway and then paid him. Colin thought judging by the cheery wave the taxi driver gave him as he left, he must have given him a huge tip. Big enough maybe, to go a long way towards paying for his hernia operation.
After the door had closed on the family Athena, Colin hoped for an hour or two free. He fancied a bite to eat and getting inside in the warm again would be a bonus too. Plenty of places existed for people to lunch in the vicinity. It didn’t take long to get sorted.
Athena paid close attention to her parents as they told her everything they’d been up to over the past few months. They asked her how she had been and did she still enjoy her job working for the charity. Athena was more interested in finding out what was wrong with her mother’s health.
“Mummy,” she said, “the charity work keeps me very busy, but it’s so rewarding. We help so many people; I can’t tell you. Now that’s enough about me and the wonderful people you’ve met this summer, what’s up with you? Daddy tells me you’ve not been well.”
Her father sat on the arm of the chair by her mother and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll find out more tomorrow when we see Dr Ramanayake. He’s a consultant cardiologist, and he’s the best. Your mother has been diagnosed as having coronary artery disease. She had been getting chest pains. She suffered shortness of breath now and then too.”
Her mother squeezed her husband’s hand and took up the story.
“I had a few dizzy spells and nearly slipped and fell in the shower several mornings. Daddy said it was the champagne cocktails. There was nothing for it, we had to see a doctor in Monte Carlo. The silly man told me to stop smoking, change my diet and exercise. Darling, if I have to take Zumba or Pilate’s classes you might as well kill me now.”
Athena asked what they thought Dr Ramanayake would suggest was needed.
“If making ‘minor’ lifestyle changes,” her mother said, throwing her hands up in mock horror, “isn't enough to manage my heart disease; I’ll need medication to help my heart work in a more efficient way. In due course, I’ll have bypass surgery. The surgery isn’t a cure, but provided I make the adjustments to my lifestyle they’re referring to; it should be manageable.”
Athena hugged her mother. Both had tears in their eyes. Neither was a familiar occurrence. Open displays of affection and emotion had never been family traits. Athena only recalled a handful of occasions when her mother had held her close. When a grandparent had died or the first time she went away to school. Other than that, they were very rare.
Inside the house, the family continued to talk and to bond. Outside, Colin Bailey maintained his vigil, replenished after his lunch break. The evening drew closer and lights were coming on around him. He had to stay vigilant. Were Athena and her folks dining at home, or were they going out to a restaurant?
Colin tried to imagine Athena in the kitchen. He attempted to conjure up a scene of domestic bliss behind that bright red door but failed. They had to be coming out later. Colin was sure of that. He could not go off duty until they arrived home again and tucked up in bed for the night.
Sure enough, a taxi arrived just before eight. The three Foxes would soon be whisked off to somewhere expensive; Colin decided to set off towards Knightsbridge. Okay, he didn’t have a clue where they might go. But he knew it wasn’t a drive-through McDonald's. His research had pinpointed the general areas they could get the quality of cuisine they preferred. There was nothing else for it. He picked one of his shortcuts and prayed they were heading towards the Brompton Road. A quick trip across to the Danish Embassy and up Hans Road. He jogged most of the way arriving less than twelve minutes later.
Colin allowed for the time it took for the three of them to exit the house, into the cab and then negotiate the evening traffic; he was convinced he’d miss them by minutes. The car could be half a mile away in either direction. This was pointless. He was breathing hard and looking left and right on the old A4. A taxi was coming out of a road just across the street from where he stood.
“Got you,” he exclaimed, checking the number against the one he’d scribbled on the top of the FT.
They had chosen to dine at Montpeliano’s, one of the best restaurants in London. Typical Athena, Colin remembered the quality of those first meals at Larcombe Manor before he’d been shown to his real quarters in the stable block. She and her family were a class act.
He couldn’t risk getting too close, but there were dozens of places of interest to occupy him for an hour or two. A quiet drink, a snack and a read of the newspaper and then a stroll opposite the restaurant in Montpelier Street. It was half-past ten before he knew it.
The door opened under the blue canopy and a group of people emerged from the busy restaurant. A taxi pulled forward from twenty yards further along the street and stopped to collect them. Colin started towards the main road. As he turned the corner and pressed himself up against the building, in the shadows, the taxi passed him. He recognised Athena’s father sat facing the back of the cab.
“Time for me to clock off and have a good night’s sleep,” said Colin as he trotted back to their family home, retracing his earlier steps. The taxi had dropped them off and disappeared by the time he got to Vincent Gardens. Lights shone both upstairs and downstairs. The people in his care were safe until the morning.
After a healthy, rather than a hearty breakfast in the morning, Colin packed and got ready to leave the hotel by seven-thirty. As Athena and her parents were due at Harley Street for an eleven o’clock appointment, he left for Paddington. He needed to drop his kit in Left Luggage and then get back to babysitting duties. There was no guarantee when Athena would return to Larcombe, but Erebus had been adamant she should return today. Unless she elected to travel on the last train of the day, Colin had to be on the one behind her. The risk of being on the same train was too great.
After the cold snap yesterday, Thursday morning had heralded a warmer day, and the sun shone brightly. It was a great start. Colin took up his post by just after a quarter past eight. It was quiet. The red door remained shut.
Colin looked up the street. He saw an electric milk float making its way from delivery to delivery; other than that, nothing. It was odd that such a busy city should experience these occasional moments of calm. Odd and a trifle worrying Colin thought, is it the calm before a storm?
In Milton Keynes, one of the disposable cell phones buzzed. A text message had arrived.
‘Meet at Oxford Circus. Today 1.30 pm.’
“It is time,” said Karim as he read the message.
“Let us read from the Quran,” Irfan said, “that we may become worthy martyrs and kill many infidels.
The three young men gathered together and embraced. This was their destiny. In just over six hours their work on earth done. As Irfan and Karim read, Arshad referred to the train and tube times to have the details to hand for their journey.
At Larcombe Manor, the surveillance team was alerted by an unusual piece of traffic. They intercepted a direct message from Pakistan to the maisonette in Milton Keynes. There was no intermediary in Birmingham or Leicester on this occasion. The order had been given.
Erebus and the three remaining senior members met briefly to decide on what action to take. Erebus ordered an immediate strike on the Milton Keynes address. The agents who had been watching the property were unarmed in case they attracted the police’s attention. There were several other Olympus staff within an hour’s drive from the maisonette to
supply the firepower this sortie needed.
Five armed men, dressed from head to foot in black, burst through the door of the property in Milton Keynes. They were set to take out the three would-be bombers before they left for London. They found the maisonette deserted.
“The birds have flown,” the squad’s leader reported to Larcombe. “Repeat, the birds have flown.”
Erebus had planned his next moves ahead of this possibility. He instructed Brad the squad leader to leave the items he had said to take with him on the raid. He was to leave contact numbers and names for the cell members in Birmingham and Leicester. The items were to appear to be casually left by the bombers, perhaps tucked into a copy of the Quran to highlight a favourite text, or in a bedside drawer.
The names and numbers were for the security services to discover to give them the pleasure of cleaning up the remnants of the cell. They needed to be careful not to make it look as if the information had been planted. MI5 would receive an anonymous tip-off later today, regardless of the outcome in London. Erebus hoped they still had time to stop the bombing. Before someone had to clean up the remnants of the bombers and heaven knows how many innocent people in Oxford Circus.
The squad needed to move on to the next stage once they had completed their task. They were to change into civilian clothes, carry concealed weapons and travel to London. Erebus calculated that they should be at the tube station by noon at the latest. This gave them ninety minutes to trace the bombers and neutralise them. This had to be achieved without alerting the public, the police, and the security services. Not to mention the bombers themselves.
To reinforce the attack squad from Milton Keynes, Erebus ordered Rusty to take two men with him and to drive to London.
“I know I can rely on you Rusty,” he said, “it’s all-hands-on-deck for this one. Ring Phoenix on this number and add him to your crew. The more eyes and ears we have at Oxford Circus the better. It will be as hard as finding three needles in a haystack. A haystack that has eighty-five million people a year bustling through it.
