We Have Lost The President

by Paul Mathews

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. No one knows where the cheese is.’

  That was the news she’d wanted to hear. Britt now had confirmation from one reliable source who worked in Buckingham Palace. She needed two more sources. But first she needed to squeeze all the information that she could from Herbert. ‘Tell me, Herbie – what was it you did, or didn’t do, when you screwed up last night?’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. It’s all sorted.’ He zipped up his jacket. ‘Can we go? I’ve got a three-cheese lasagne in the freezer back at the pod.’ He stared into Britt’s eyes. ‘But it’ll need warming up.’

  ‘Don’t be so impatient. We got all evening. And all night.’

  Herbert’s eyes lit up. ‘Have we?’ If Herbert had a tail, it would have been wagging furiously by now.

  Britt’s American drawl became more seductive. ‘Just answer my question and then we’ll go back to your pod.’

  Herbert checked no one was listening. ‘Okay. I was in the area of the fridge where they keep the big cheese. At about half past ten, I went to one of the master bedrooms to have a little nap. Six hours later, I woke up. I checked on the cheese. It wasn’t where it should’ve been.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Then I checked the camera system. It failed at eleven – every camera inside and outside the fridge. I didn’t raise the alarm until five. The cheese was taken out of the fridge during those six hours. We know it’s not hidden in a corner somewhere because my uncle has turned that fridge upside down. The cheese is gone.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I messed up. I know. But once you get into one of those beds, it’s hard to get out.’ He circled the edge of his drinking tube with his index finger. ‘The bed in my pod is a bit like that.’

  It was time for Herbert to go walkies. Britt took her digi-pen and pad out of her bag and switched them on. ‘Write down your address.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Herbert, with a look of disappointment. ‘We can go there together.’

  ‘I have to file a report first. You go on ahead and I’ll meet you at the pod. But don’t worry. It won’t take me long and the report won’t mention you.’ She touched his hand. ‘I swear on the life of the president of the New States.’

  Herbert gazed at her with a dreamy expression. ‘You are a super-mega lady, Pellie Cann.’

  And you’re a super-mega dumb ass, thought Britt.

  Herbert scribbled down his address and handed the digi-pen and pad back to Britt. Then he stood up. ‘My six-pack is going to be waiting for you. And my three-cheese lasagne.’

  They were going to have a long wait. Super-Mega Electro Thrash were starting to return to the stage for the second half. But Pellie Cann’s performance was over.

  Herbert moved to the door. ‘See you in a bit, Pellie.’

  Britt waved and Herbert disappeared out of sight. She waited a moment, to make sure he was far enough away from the pub. Then she got up and left, just as the band were launching into their new song, Thrash it all night.

  Britt was too tired to thrash anything. She was heading home.

  Chapter 19

  Howie and Martha were sitting at a table by the window in The Savoy hotel’s exclusive Premier Diners restaurant. It was the number-one place for A-list celebrities, top politicians and big-business people to come and enjoy a meal. And Howie was more than enjoying his experience. He’d already consumed a jumbo prawn cocktail and the largest sirloin steak he’d ever seen. He was now patiently waiting to order one of the super-mega-sized desserts, while Martha half-heartedly jabbed a fork at her salmon salad.

  Apart from the fabulous food, things hadn’t gone as expected at The Savoy. They were here because Martha was sure that Daisy Gray would still turn up for her eight o’clock dinner date with the chief of police. But it was nearly nine now, and neither Daisy nor the chief had set foot inside the restaurant.

  Martha dropped her knife and fork on her plate and pushed it away. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time, Howie. But I don’t think they’re coming.’

  ‘You did tell her to cancel it.’

  ‘I know I did. I also told you to stay sober today.’

  Howie looked down at his empty plate. ‘Point taken.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s unfair. Even with your unscheduled afternoon power nap, you did extremely well for a first day. You’ve obtained some excellent information. I’m impressed.’

  ‘Thanks. But we’ve still got to try and piece it all together and work out what the bloody hell happened.’

  ‘Yes.’ Martha twisted her lip. ‘I just hope Vice President Gray hasn’t already spilled the beans to the chief of police. If the boys in sky blue get involved, I can’t see this staying Code Red confidential for very long.’ Martha shook her head. ‘I should have got one of my agents to follow her. It’s my stupid mistake.’

  Howie had a thought. ‘Maybe they met up, like they planned, but went somewhere else for dinner?’

  Martha’s ears pricked up. ‘That’s possible.’

  ‘Daisy is a pain in the arse, but she’s not stupid. She knows how you work. She probably guessed that you, or one of your team, would be here.’

  ‘But there are hundreds of restaurants in London. They could be anywhere.’

  ‘Yeah. But the chief’s office is only round the corner. If they did keep the arrangement, I bet they didn’t go far.’ Howie pointed out of the window. ‘The Strand Palace Hotel has a half-decent restaurant. The vice presidents have their Christmas parties there.’

  Martha stood up. ‘Then what are we waiting for? They should be on their desserts by now.’

  Howie was also on his dessert. But he was a special investigator now. And, just like James Bond, he would have to put his own personal interests to one side for the sake of national security. Dessert would have to wait.

  Martha gestured to a waiter and asked for the bill. Then she turned to Howie. ‘Can you pay with the cash I gave you? It’ll save me rummaging through my bag.’

  Howie cleared his throat. ‘I spent it.’

  Martha’s voice went up an octave. ‘What?! All in the pub? What were you doing? Buying a round of drinks for the whole civil service?’

  ‘No. I, erm … had to pay cash for an appointment to see Cherry Blush. That gym is an expensive place.’

  Martha’s voice went up another octave. ‘Two thousand pounds for an appointment with a personal trainer?! That’s downright criminal!’

  ‘It was a complete con. But all legal.’

  Martha took a deep breath and her voice returned to normal. ‘She’s obviously learnt a lot from her employer.’

  Howie didn’t think it was the right time to mention the five thousand pounds he’d also paid for a month’s gym membership on his credit card.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ sighed Martha. ‘I’ve got cash.’ A minute later, the waiter arrived and the bill was paid. Then Martha took Howie by the arm. ‘Come on. Let’s see if you’re right.’

  They rushed out of The Savoy, dodged the evening traffic and ran into the Strand Palace Hotel. Once they had located the main restaurant, they started to wander around, ignoring the curious looks from diners. It didn’t take them long to find what they were looking for – Daisy Gray and the chief of police at a corner table. Howie could see the chief was eating a chocolate pudding. His stomach rumbled at the sight of it. This special investigating was hungry work. He would kill for one of those puddings right now.

  Martha was the first to their table. The couple didn’t notice her arrival. Martha coughed and the chief of police looked up. When he saw Martha’s face, he stopped eating his pudding and sat back.

  ‘What’s the matter, Freddie?’ asked Daisy, completely oblivious to Martha’s presence. ‘You full up already?’

  Howie arrived at their table. ‘If he can’t manage it, I can. Be a shame to waste it.’ He was only half-joking.

  Daisy jerked her head around. As soon as she saw Howie and Martha, her eyes filled with fear. ‘What are you two doing here?’

  Martha scowled. ‘We might ask you the same question.’


  ‘W–w–we’re just having dinner,’ stuttered Daisy.

  ‘Last minute change of venue, was it?’ asked Martha, her voice dripping with irony.

  ‘We didn’t fancy The Savoy,’ mumbled Daisy.

  Martha was merciless. ‘And has anything interesting popped up in conversation, Vice President Gray? Anything work-related, for instance?’

  Daisy looked petrified. ‘What, y-you mean the w-w-work thing we talked about, this morning?’

  Martha bit her lip and nodded.

  ‘Oh, w-well. I might have m-mentioned it.’ Daisy forced a laugh and composed herself. ‘You know how these things happen. One minute you’re choosing the side orders for your main course, the next you’re telling a trusted external stakeholder that the president’s gone miss —’

  ‘Let’s not tell the whole world, eh?’ interrupted Howie.

  Martha gave Daisy a look that would have wilted a cactus. ‘With all due respect, Vice President Gray, I think it’s time you left the restaurant and went home.’ Martha turned to the chief of police. ‘Howie and I will stay here – to see just how much of the work thing you’ve discussed.’

  Daisy stood up. ‘R-right. I’ll … I’ll get going.’

  The chief of police stood up. ‘We’ll catch up soon, Daisy. Don’t worry. I’ll smooth everything out here. And pay the bill. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night,’ muttered Daisy. She didn’t say another word and scurried out of the restaurant without looking back.

  The chief of police turned towards Martha. ‘That was a little unnecessary, Martha. She’s the vice president for homeland security. Not a junior civil servant.’

  ‘Yes. And I am the head of the National Security and Intelligence Service, in case you’d forgotten. And this, Frederick, is a Code Red security matter. So I make the decisions about who knows about it and who doesn’t. Vice President Gray has no authority to tell you anything.’

  ‘I respect you deeply, Martha. But you’re being overdramatic. I’m the chief of police, not the exiled king of England.’ He stood up and turned to Howie. ‘I’m sorry. We haven’t been introduced. I’m Frederick English, London’s chief of police. You can call me Freddie.’

  Howie shook his hand. ‘The name’s Pond. Howie Pond. Presidential spokesperson and, as from today, special investigator.’

  Freddie smiled. ‘Ah, Howie Pond. Licence to eat chocolate pudding, eh?’

  Howie chuckled and gazed down at Freddie’s dessert. ‘Something like that.’ It wouldn’t be professional to ask Freddie if he really could finish it. Not yet, anyway.

  Martha’s nostrils flared. ‘I’ll continue to call you Frederick, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘If formality makes you more comfortable, then please do so. Now, sit down. And we can discuss this work matter.’

  Howie pulled up an extra chair and the trio sat down.

  Martha didn’t waste any time getting to the point. ‘How much did she tell you?’

  Freddie lowered his voice. ‘Vice President Gray told me about your missing person, the ongoing search at the palace and that the National Security and Intelligence Service wants this all to themselves.’

  Martha scowled and shook her head. ‘I knew it.’

  ‘She told me because she’s anxious that everything should be done to locate your missing person. And she believed it to be in the best interests of national security.’

  ‘I make that decision, Frederick.’

  ‘So you say. But that doesn’t mean it’s always the right decision.’

  This was turning into a real heavyweight clash. The only thing that seemed to be stopping them from lunging at each other was the half-eaten chocolate pudding in the middle of the table. Howie had better leave it there for now.

  Martha spoke her next words slowly and clearly. ‘Read my lips. I don’t want the police involved.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Freddie. ‘We are the very people who can help you find your missing person. We’re the eyes and ears of London.’

  ‘You’re also the mouths of London,’ snarled Martha. ‘Very big ones.’

  ‘If you’re just going to insult me, I can head for home right now. Oh. And I’ll be alerting my operational commander to your work matter on my way there.’

  Martha leaned forward, her voice less aggressive than before. ‘Look, Frederick. I cannot afford for this information to reach the public domain in any shape or form. Our missing person is unlikely to be walking the streets of London waiting for one of your foot patrols to wander past him. So for now, we play it my way.’

  Freddie mulled over her words. ‘Okay. Here’s the deal. I won’t pass this down the chain for another twenty-four hours. But I can’t hang on to it for any longer. Considering who we’re talking about, I think I’m being generous.’

  Martha paused to think and then responded. ‘Forty-eight hours.’

  ‘No, twenty-four hours is my final offer. If I get hauled before a vice-presidential committee in three months’ time, it’s going to be hard enough to explain a day’s delay on my part. I could lose my job for that alone. Police operations are my responsibility. Not yours. If I sit on this for more than twenty-four hours, I’ll look incompetent.’

  Martha breathed in through her nose and stared at Freddie. ‘Alright. Twenty-four hours. That will have to do. But on one condition.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Freddie.

  ‘I want to run some names past you. You tell me if there’s anything I should know. And this goes no further than the three of us.’

  ‘Of course, Martha. Anything I can do to help. Fire away.’

  ‘Sky Eastern. Chairwoman of Eastern Oil.’

  Freddie’s face looked blank. ‘Do you have a photo you can show me?’

  Martha sighed. ‘I don’t have photos of anyone. She’s American. In her sixties. Wears lots of jewellery.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That doesn’t help.’

  ‘Let’s move on. How about Olga Frik from Auto-Tech Industries?’

  Freddie shook his head. ‘No. Her name means absolutely nothing.’

  ‘What about this one – Cherry Blush? She’s a personal trainer at American Fitness.’

  Freddie chuckled. ‘These aren’t exactly Britain’s most wanted, are they?’

  Martha raised her voice. ‘Does the name mean anything to you or not, Frederick?’

  ‘Alas, no. Who’s next on the list?’

  She lowered her voice. ‘Viktor Maxim. He’s a Russian businessman.’

  Freddie looked thoughtful and rubbed his chin. ‘Hmmm. Viktor Maxim, you say?’

  ‘Yes. I do say.' Martha waited for a few seconds. ‘I can tell it’s a name you recognise, Frederick.’

  ‘Your powers of detection are as strong as ever, Martha. I have heard of him. Viktor Maxim is a Russian chap. He owns a large number of businesses. In fact, I believe he bought that American Fitness place you just mentioned.’

  Martha half-smiled. ‘Yes. He’s bought a lot of things. And people, if you believe the rumours.’

  Freddie shook his head. ‘Personally, I don’t. One or two individuals have come forward and made claims about him. Bribery, black-market activities, extortion, kidnap. That sort of thing.’

  Howie nearly jumped out of his chair. ‘Kidnap?! Who’s he kidnapped?’

  Freddie laughed off the question. ‘No one. It’s all unsubstantiated nonsense. He’s Russian, a successful businessman and he enjoys a millionaire’s lifestyle. A lot of people don’t like those three facts. They make false allegations.’

  ‘And you investigate these allegations?’ asked Martha.

  ‘When resources allow.’

  ‘So how many times is that?’

  ‘Approximately?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Freddie thought hard. ‘Exactly … zero.’

  ‘I knew it!’

  ‘I can’t waste time on wild goose chases. It would be irresponsible of me to devote valuable police resources to —’

  ‘Maxim is here this
week,’ interrupted Martha. ‘Did you know that?’

  Freddie nodded. ‘Yes. I spotted him in The Savoy yesterday evening.’

  Martha’s expression was becoming more serious. ‘You spotted him? Or you met him?’

  Freddie chuckled. ‘Yes. That’s right. We were finalising our plans to kidnap your missing person. Once we’ve got the ransom, that’s it for me. Early retirement. I’ll be writing my memoirs. And don’t fret – I shall be very kind to you, Martha.’

  ‘I’m glad you find this funny, Frederick.’

  Freddie held up his hands. ‘Forgive me. I’m being flippant at a time of crisis. And I sense Mr Maxim is a person of considerable interest to you. So let me tell you this – he is not a person of interest to the police. He has never been arrested, charged or convicted of anything in this country.’

  Martha’s eyes widened and she fixed them on Freddie. ‘That might suggest he’s being protected.’

  ‘Evidence, Martha. Evidence. Always the starting point of any enquiry. And if you have any evidence for that allegation, I would be more than happy to review it.’

  ‘Do you know Petra Putinov?’ asked Martha. ‘She works for Maxim.’

  ‘I don’t know her. But whenever Maxim has dinner at The Savoy with a woman, it’s always the same one. And I’ve heard the name Petra mentioned. So that’s probably her.’

  ‘Was she there with Viktor Maxim on Monday evening, Frederick?’

  ‘Yes. I believe she was.’

  ‘And were they dining with anyone else?’

  ‘I had to leave early. So I can’t give you a full list of his dining companions.’ Freddie clasped his hands. ‘Now, are there any more names you want to run past me? Because I was halfway through a chocolate pudding.’

  ‘No. That’s all. You’ve been moderately helpful.’ Martha got up to leave. ‘Howie, are you coming with me or staying here?’

  Howie’s stomach rumbled so loudly, the people at the next table could hear it.

  ‘You’ll be staying,’ continued Martha. ‘Very well. Just don’t overdo it. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow. And I need you to be firing on all cylinders.’

  Howie couldn’t remember the last time he’d fired on all cylinders. But he wouldn’t worry Martha with that information right now. ‘I won’t stay long. See you tomorrow morning.’