Double Agent

by Tom Bradby

  ‘I’m not a cynic,’ Kate said. And when she realized that Grove had truly no sense of humour, she went on: ‘Ian was right all along. It’s not easy to admit that, but it’s true.’

  If nothing else, she thought, she was becoming a much better bloody liar.

  ‘We shouldn’t blame Kate in any way,’ Suzy chipped in. ‘It was all so plausible. Who wouldn’t have jumped at such a sensational story? If true, it would have been the most amazing intelligence coup of the modern era, enough to make anyone’s career.’

  Kate didn’t dignify this with an answer.

  Grove leant forward, her reading glasses brushing against her clipboard. There were a lot of ticks on her checklist now. ‘After all this,’ she said, ‘you suddenly wake up one day and decide that Ian Granger was right all along and that you were duped?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You didn’t meet anyone, see anyone, receive any new information before experiencing this Damascene conversion?’

  ‘No, but when I had time to reflect, it was the only explanation that made sense.’ She forced another smile. Given they all knew that Grove’s sole aim here was to bury this file in the darkest recess of the Service’s vaults, her show of probity was beginning to grate. ‘You know as well as I do, Mrs Grove, that in our world we never get hard and fast answers. There is no black and white. When you have ruled out all other potential explanations, what remains is the truth, however unlikely. Upon reflection, I decided Ian had been right. I feel no shame in admitting it.’

  ‘So you accept this matter is closed?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Good. Good.’ Grove nodded sagely. ‘We appreciate your cooperation, Mrs Henderson. I know this has been a tough time for you.’

  ‘And the prime minister.’ Grove looked confused. ‘I mean, to have been falsely accused in this way,’ Kate said. She was laying it on really thick now, but why not? She might as well enjoy it.

  She glanced up at the light above her, in which she suspected a microphone was hidden. Whoever was listening – MI5, certainly, perhaps even the prime minister himself – she hoped they appreciated the effort she was putting into her show of contrition.

  ‘Yes, yes. Monstrous. Very difficult.’ Grove stood. ‘Thank you, Mrs Henderson.’ She offered her hand. ‘A relief to all of us, I’m sure, to have this matter finally resolved.’

  Kate took the proffered hand. She even kissed Suzy, though she didn’t grace Ian with an answer when he asked her in the corridor outside how it had gone. Let his ambition sweat a moment longer.

  ‘Kate,’ he said, as she turned her back on him. ‘Thank you for your contribution.’

  She faced him. ‘To what?’

  ‘This inquiry. And the Service, of course.’

  ‘Is that some kind of joke?’

  ‘No, no. I wanted to thank you for all you have done.’

  Kate retrieved her bag and walked away, without bothering to offer him a reply.

  She found Julie waiting for her by the lift. ‘Don’t,’ Kate said, raising a hand to forestall any show of emotion, for which she no longer had the stomach.

  ‘I’m not going to cry,’ Julie replied. ‘Not now, anyway.’

  ‘One day soon we’re going to meet up and get very, very pissed. And we’re never going to talk about any of it again.’

  ‘You did the right thing, Kate.’

  ‘You don’t think that. And I’m not convinced I do, either. So I need to get out of here before I change my mind.’

  ‘I do think it, actually.’

  Julie launched herself into Kate’s arms. They held each other until Kate released herself and belted for the stairs before the emotion welling inside her could find expression. She was damned if she was going to be seen leaving the building for the last time in tears.

  Sir Alan was at the last security barrier, readying himself to leave to get back to the hospital. Rose was beside him, her arm still in a sling from the kidnap. The doctors had made clear to all of them that the mental scars would take much longer to heal.

  Rose touched Kate’s shoulder in support. Sir Alan did not appear to know what he should do. ‘I thought I’d better pipe you out,’ he said.

  ‘Off, I think.’ He looked confused. ‘Don’t you pipe someone off? It’s a naval term.’

  ‘Yes, yes, perhaps so.’ He stared at the floor. ‘I’m sorry it had to end like this, Kate.’

  ‘I’m not. I should have made this decision a long time ago.’

  ‘Are you certain you’re doing the right thing? I’m sure my successor—’

  ‘Your successor?’

  He glanced at Rose, as if it was a decision they had reached jointly. Not for the first time, Kate wondered just how far the friendship between her aunt and their superior extended. But she choked off the train of thought. Not her business. ‘I’ve taken the decision to stand down,’ Sir Alan said. ‘The search for my replacement has already begun.’

  For a moment, Kate was less sure of her own decision. Perhaps it was the old competitive spirit or, as she would have preferred to see it, her conscience. ‘So Ian got what he wanted.’

  Sir Alan glanced at Rose again. ‘We can make sure there’s a future for you here, Kate.’

  She wavered for only a moment more. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘To answer a question Stuart once asked of me, I don’t think in the end it is possible to be a warrior for truth and the mother I’d like to be. And if I must choose, then I know what it has to be.’

  Kate could have told Sir Alan – and, indeed, Rose – that an agreement to allow Stuart to come and go unhindered in continental Europe had been the explicit quid pro quo with Shirley Grove for lying through her teeth a few minutes ago or, as Grove herself had put it, ‘telling the complete truth of the entire affair’. But they would, no doubt, have guessed as much.

  Kate kissed Sir Alan. ‘Bloody good luck, my friend,’ he said.

  She hugged her aunt, who whispered only, ‘See you at home.’

  She nodded at the security guard, who let her out of the building for the last time.

  She swung right and headed westwards towards Battersea in the drizzle.

  It was a gloomy night, but warmer than it looked, a close humidity wrapping the capital in its suffocating embrace. Kate shrugged off her coat, slipped it over her arm and glanced back at the organization to which she had devoted most of her adult life.

  She walked on, faster and with greater purpose. Tonight, she had her own version of truth or, rather, of her role in this universe.

  She was going home.

  Where she belonged.

  She picked up the pace and burst through the front door of the house to find Fiona and Gus waiting in the kitchen.

  Kate took them in her arms, their warm hands wrapped tight around her. ‘It’s over,’ she whispered. ‘It’s all over now.’

  Acknowledgements

  My primary thanks, as always, to my incredible wife, Claudia, my partner in life and work. I’d also like to thank my brilliant agent, Mark Lucas, and wonderful editor, Bill Scott-Kerr – and indeed Eloisa Clegg and all the fantastic team at Transworld. Thanks also to Rayhan Demytrie for her help in Tbilisi. And thanks to those in the Security Services who assisted but would prefer to remain ‘in the background’.