Ann groaned inwardly, but spoke breezily on the phone:
‘It's all on schedule, Prime Minister. The diving teams will be in place by tomorrow, as will the five Chinooks. The freighter, the Pretoria Queen, has sailed from Rotterdam and has the bonded crates for the gold on board. We have a senior man in Guernsey controlling that end and Ross Bryant, our tame SAS chappy, is overseeing the whole shooting match. We hope to begin the extraction on Saturday morning and hope to be finished within three to four weeks. We should start teeing up an inspection of the gold in Guernsey with the Swiss ASAP. No doubt, they will need weeks of advance notice. They also need to organise a transport aircraft to carry the three hundred tons of gold back to the vaults in Zurich.’
The PM was relieved.
‘Excellent Ann, thank you very much. As usual, your efficiency puts us all to shame.’
Ann thought she noted a touch of sarcasm in his voice – but no matter, soon he would be smirking on the other side of his face.
‘Shall I contact the Swiss, Ian?’
‘Please do so, Ann, I'm going to be another week or two here in New York, but hope to be home by the time they are ready to inspect.’
‘That's fine, Ian, is there anything else?’
‘No, not that I can think of. Just keep the French and the Germans off our backs until I get back.’
‘I’ll try, sir. I'll try,’ she answered uncertainly.
The PM hung up and Ann smiled sweetly at Chloe.
‘Can you pop out and leave me with Suzi, darling. It's confidential stuff.’
Chloe jumped up and left the room as Ann continued.
‘The old buffer is none the wiser for our plan. By the time he gets back, the shit will have hit the fan, and we will have ‘left the building’.’
Suzi grinned and asked for clarification on a few points, which Ann gave. Suzi agreed to get on with them in the morning and left the office after arranging to meet at Ann’s apartment at midnight. Ann had provided her with a pass and credentials permitting entrance.
Ann's next job was to call in Patric Silver and arrange an 11:30pm pick up. She also instructed him to ensure that her ‘double’ did a bit of face time in and around the city. Nothing too ostentatious, but shopping and dining and travelling in the car specially provided. Ann wanted to be sure that the ‘doppelganger’ was right up to the mark.
Patric agreed to escort Ms Leslie around town in the morning, whilst Ann worked in her office. He would report back on public reaction tomorrow evening.
‘One more thing,’ ordered Ann. ‘There’s a restaurant out to the south of Brussels on the Waterloo road, up in the hills, off the beaten track – ‘Le Claret Jug’. The owner is a wealthy golfing freak ex-pat. The road up is hard to find and extremely narrow, with a steep drop on both sides. Be careful, I don’t want my girl going over the edge – nor you come to that, Patric! It's very expensive and very exclusive. I've used it once or twice. Take her there tomorrow night and see if she passes muster as me. I've booked a table for 8pm. It's up to you whether you dine with her, but I would probably recommend not.’
‘Yes ma'am,’ concurred Patric, thinking, ‘another bloody late night!’
The final arrangement to make before the daily evening Cabinet was to call Ross Bryant.
‘Are you travelling to the French military base tomorrow?’ she demanded abruptly.
‘Yes ma'am.’
‘Well, just ensure that the bloody divers are ready to go on Saturday morning. There are to be no slip ups, Lieutenant – none whatsoever. Is Brady in Guernsey yet?’
‘No ma'am, he flies out tomorrow morning – first thing.’
‘Good, the sooner that idiot is out of my way the better. Good night, Bryant.’
What Ann didn’t know was that Bryant, Brady and Patric Silver were meeting that evening to discuss Ann Fletcher.
What she also didn’t know was that they were to have two extra uninvited guests at their seditious little party.
Day 40
Thursday 23rd January
Brussels
Ross Bryant arrived at Patric Silver’s flat at 8pm. Brady was already there sipping a large gin & tonic. Joanie had prepared some snacks for the three men, and had then gone out with Chloe and Chris to the CSC for dinner, leaving the three men free to discuss Ann Fletcher without incriminating her.
As Ross entered the flat, John Stubbins walked down the stairs on his way out to fetch a takeaway pizza.
‘Good evening, Patric. Are you well?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘Oh, hello John,’ replied Patric, slightly taken aback. They specifically hadn’t invited John because of the reservations he had aired at their last meeting.
‘We are just saying a farewell to Andrew Brady. He's away for a month or so tomorrow. Would you like to come in?’ Patric immediately kicked himself for making the invitation. The last thing they wanted was John confusing the issue with his loyalty to Ann being so robust. However, Patric was let off the hook, and exhaled with relief;
‘No thanks Patric. I'm collecting a pizza from round the corner. Perhaps another time.’
Doctor John continued down the stairs as Patric closed the door, but fired a telling parting shot.
‘Say hello to Ross for me,’ and he disappeared.
‘Shit,’ thought Patric. ‘He definitely suspects something,’ letting the others know of his concern about John Stubbins. ‘He's a lovely chap, but he won't have anything said against Ann. It's the effect she has on the unwary and naïve.’
‘Never mind him,’ muttered Ross, ‘we've more important things to discuss.’
He knocked back a whisky and picked up a sausage roll, gulping it down before continuing.
‘Look, I'm going to be straight with you. I am not happy with the whole situation concerning Auric. For a start, why is the gold going onto a South African registered freighter before going to Guernsey. The Chinooks could easily make it in one hop.’
Brady interjected.
‘Isn’t it to clean and crate the bars in bonded containers for easy transport to Switzerland?’
‘Yes, I know, but it's a bit much isn’t it? Couldn’t we use a British freighter?’
Patric joined in.
‘I'm also concerned about this ‘doppelganger’ that Ann has arranged. I really can't see what the purpose is. She says it's in case someone tries to attack her. I find that scenario highly unlikely. Why should Ann Fletcher be a target for assassination?’
‘I agree,’ said Brady. ‘I also think she has arranged for me to be as far away as possible during the recovery process.’
Ross nodded:
‘That's true, Andy. She does not like you very much at all. To be blunt she has hinted that I make you disappear – permanently - and I could! You should see the credentials I have.’
Ross pulled the letter of authority from his inside jacket pocket and handed it round.
‘I've seen another like this,’ added Patric. ‘Today, in her outer office, whilst Eleanor Fisher was in with Dame Ann, one of these was lying on her desk, and the name at the top was Dame Susan Macintyre. Does anyone know anything about her?’
The other two conspirators shook their heads.
‘Whoever she is, Ann must trust her.’ said Brady thoughtfully.
‘I doubt that, Andy. I've got one, and she wouldn't trust me to tie my shoelace without double checking. More likely, she is using her.’
The three sipped their drinks and munched on vol-au-vents, ruminating.
‘Has Chloe come up with anything yet, Andy?’ queried Ross in hope more than confidence.
‘Not yet. She's working in Ann’s outer office with Fisher – can we trust that woman? – and is keeping her eyes open.’
At that moment the phone rang in Patric’s flat, and it was Bryan Wester.
‘Hello, Bryan, how’s the new job going.’
‘Excellent, sir, thank you very much. I can't thank you enough. I do hope you don’t mind me ringing you at home?’
Bryan hesitated and then spoke firmly.
‘I might be speaking out of turn sir, but I've had a great deal of experience of working in environments where certain high grade clientele have conversations which they do not intend to be overheard or deciphered.’
Patric was puzzled.
‘What do you mean, Bryan?’
‘What I mean is that I pick up snippets of careless talk at dinner tables, and twice in the past two days I've heard such conversations at the CSC. I only ring you, sir, because at the hospital on the ship I accidentally heard you mentioning to your good lady wife that you were concerned about Dame Ann Fletcher and her motives. You’ll beg my pardon, sir.’
Patric smiled.
‘No problem, Bryan. What did you hear?’
‘Well sir, Dame Ann and her daughter came in for dinner and after a few glasses of fizz, Dame Ann began talking to her daughter about ‘going away’ and ‘very soon’ and ‘not coming back to this shithole,’ Now sir, that is not the sort of talk I'd expect from our deputy PM. In addition, a new lady came in on Tuesday and was asking around about Dame Ann. A very attractive and refined lady, sir. She was asking questions about gold!’
‘Did you get her name Bryan?’ begged Patric hopefully.
‘Oh yes sir, Dame Susan Macintyre. I hope I've been of service, sir?’
Patric was beaming.
‘You certainly have, Bryan. I reckon that makes us more than even. Good night and thank you.’
‘Good night sir. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.’
Patric hung up and turned to his pals.
‘I knew it, I bloody knew it. The cow has been overheard planning a trip far, far away and for the long haul. Susan Macintyre has also been heard sniffing around asking questions about Auric. The pair of them must be in cahoots. I wonder if they have a history?’
Brady looked up and confirmed the theory. He had just remembered that he knew Suzi of old.
‘Oh yes, they have history alright. The woman came to our wedding. She was Ann’s very best friend!’
Ross was more convinced than ever.
‘Whatever they are up to, they are in it together. The sooner Chloe gets some useful information, the better placed we will be. Luckily, we've got time on our side. Op Auric starts on Saturday and will last at least three weeks – maybe four. So anything Chloe can tell us may be of use. I suggest that you go to Guernsey as planned Andy, and keep your eyes peeled for any trouble. Check that gold in carefully - bar by bloody bar! Patric, you are with the woman every day. Try to probe her with innocent questions.’
Patric didn’t hold out much hope.
‘That won't be easy. It's Dame Ann who dictates our conversations, and most of those lead up to her bedroom, which I've avoided so far!’
Brady laughed.
‘Maybe some pillow talk is just what we need.’
All three men sniggered like teenagers as Patric poured another drink.
Just then, the front doorbell rang.
‘That can't be Joanie, she has a key, and it's far too early,’ stated a surprised Patric as he rose to answer the ring.
He opened the door, and two men, both wearing suits and ties stood immobile facing Patric.
‘Can I help you?’ asked Patric genially.
‘Good evening, sir. My name is Smith and this is Mr Jones. Here is our identification. We should like to come in and speak to your small gathering,’
Patric was taken aback, but recognised the IDs produced – they were from the SIS – MI6 to be exact.
He ushered them in and introduced Smith and Jones to Brady and Bryant.
‘Good evening gentlemen. We won't keep you long, and hopefully what we have to say will help to reinforce any views you may have about our esteemed deputy Prime Minister and her nefarious activities.’
Brady, Ross and Patric let out a joint sigh of relief.
‘Christ,’ stuttered Brady, ‘I thought you’d come to arrest us!’
Smith didn’t smile, but instead sat down and Jones stood behind him.
‘I’ll keep this short, gentlemen. We've been observing your movements as a precaution. You all have close contact with Dame Ann and it has been necessary to ascertain your ‘loyalties’, shall we say. We have also been observing Dame Ann Fletcher – for some several years now, and we are as concerned as you are about her activities concerning the British gold. She has a record as long as your arm, going back many years, concerning personal blackmail, financial irregularities, professional manipulation and recently, attempted murder. You’ll be interested to know that she attempted to kill the entire Townsend family by driving them off a cliff en-route to Frankfurt airport and the United States! More interestingly, she has recently made a three-day trip to Cape Town to visit with a shipping magnate – the same magnate who owns the freighter she has rented for Operation Auric. We know about her deception regarding your daughter Group Captain, and we know that her relationship with Dame Susan is dangerous and potentially explosive. We believe that they are in collusion with Mr Richard Castle – a friend of yours I believe, Lieutenant Bryant. So you can see that our sentiments and reservations are mutual.’
Patric was incredulous.
‘How could you know anything we have talked about. This place is secure.’
‘Is it, Commander, is it?’
‘Oh fuck!’ exclaimed Patric. ‘My engineering pal who swept it…he's one of yours!’
‘Maybe,’ replied Smith non-committally.
Ross Bryant had had enough.
‘So what's the upshot of all this ‘observation’, then? What do you want us to do – because I’ll bet my mortgage that you’ve got plans for us.’
‘I suspect your mortgage is worthless these days. Lieutenant, but I take your point. We suggest that the good Group Captain goes to Guernsey as planned and watches the gold like a hawk. Use that pistol Mr Brady if you have to! Commander, stick close to Dame Ann and listen out. You may be the vital link when she runs for it. She may well use you as a getaway driver – and watch your back. She’ll kill you in a heartbeat. As for you Lieutenant, send a man – one of our men - onto the Pretoria Queen to monitor the cleaning and re-crating process. It's a vital loophole you’ve missed. Apart from that, let Chloe remain at her mother’s side, but beware. Mother daughter links can be strong – especially when millions of dollars are at stake. We shall maintain a close watch on you all, and if any of you discover what the woman is really up to – let us know. Do not go off half-cocked and try something stupid or reckless. She is far too clever and you will always need serious back-up. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?’
The three friends looked at each other and silently agreed that they had little option.
‘It's a relief that we are not acting traitorously. We’ll do our best.’
Smith grinned for the first time.
‘Oh, you are indeed traitors, gents – but this is a complicated world we now inhabit, and who can say what may be right or wrong. Here is my card. Call me!’
He handed one card to each man and left one for Chloe.
Smith and Jones then departed, after snatching a couple of sausage rolls from the coffee table.
After the door closed, Patric turned and spoke indignantly:
‘Whatever we do next, the first thing I'm going to do is find that bloody bug!’
***
Patric Silver had dropped Ann Fletcher at her apartment and ten minutes later Suzi Macintyre joined her.
They sat sipping large vodkas & tonic and were chatting idly.
It was about 12:30am and both women contemplated an early night after the prolonged activity of the previous evening. It had been extremely enjoyable but tiring nonetheless. Tomorrow would be a busy day and an early night might be a sensible option.
Might be.
Ann had stashed some notes in her wall safe, and Suzi had peered at Ann’s hand as she tumbled the combination lock. However, it w
as impossible to read the numbers from her current sitting position. Suzi made a mental note to take a different seat tomorrow evening.
A mobile phone on Ann’s desk suddenly, and clearly unexpectedly, rang and she stared at it in frozen surprise before picking it up and sitting at the desk.
‘Carol Leslie. Yes. Yes. Ready to copy.’
Ann wrote something on her desk notepad, and then replied rapidly with a series of numbers and letters – at least twenty characters in length – far too long for Suzi to remember.
Ann continued to listen, then spoke again.
‘Confirmed, access by the twenty-fourth – today. What about the transfers I've requested?’
She listened again as the mystery caller, whom Suzi correctly deduced was a banker of some kind, spoke again.
‘Okay,’ confirmed Ann, ‘that is correct. I’ll be in touch. Will you post the necessary access codes and cards to the address you hold.’
She listened as the caller spoke again.
‘Yes, that's also correct. Thank you. Good night.’
Ann pressed the button cutting off the caller, switched off the phone and then placed it in her safe before locking it.
Suzi waited a few seconds before speaking. Ann sat at her desk with her head in her hands, and after a few seconds looked up with an expression which combined joy, relief and triumph.
‘And who the hell is Carol Leslie?’ demanded Suzi.
Ann’s expression darkened as she made the crucial decision to involve Suzi fully – or at least as fully as she needed to be.
‘We need to talk, darling. I haven’t been completely candid with you. It's time to come clean and talk in detail about the next month, and the essential preparations we should be making. But first – bed – I've got something to celebrate and I know just the thing to scratch a particular itch which has just come over me ……….. you!’
The next hour was spent making love in Ann’s bed, and Suzi recognised a different Ann Fletcher – one suddenly freed of all the cares of the world.
However, she was extremely keen to hear the full story, and learn why her partner was so full of confidence and newfound verve.
What Ann revealed would both excite and terrify her.
Snow! The Series [Books 1-4] Page 98
