I managed a tight smile and pointed to the computer screen.
‘And you can see what fun citizen journalists can have when they aren’t bothered by the truth.’
I turned to Kate. ‘Anyway, have I convinced you finally that you’re not shielding a psychopath and murderer?’
Kate smiled. ‘Oh yes. I never really believed that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Psychopaths and murderers don’t worry about the safety of guide dogs. You had Omar in that fight. You let him go because of Olivia.’
I smiled. ‘Is that why you didn’t leg it while I was away?’
‘Partly,’ she said, ‘but mostly I rely on my instincts. Anyway, the question is what now?’
‘I have to contact a woman called Virginia Walsh. She supervised my exit from SIS and she’s one of a handful of people who know the truth.’
‘Will she help?’
‘Not without a lot of pressure, but I may be able to manage that,’ I said. ‘I’ve always known that a day like this might come. I have a plan and I know how to contact her. Tomorrow’s Sunday, so it shouldn’t be too hard.’
‘The church thing?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK,’ Kate said. ‘You look at UpstairsBackstairs and see what’s developing. I’ll make us some supper.’
When I went through the postings, the frenzy seemed to be dying down. The thread of the so-called story remained the same. I was a former spook who was wanted for murder and Omar’s only sin was to have had an affair with my wife.
I turned to news websites and discovered that the follow-up to the previous day’s mosque raids was becoming serious. There were reports, quoting unnamed intelligence sources, that an attack was being planned on an unspecified target somewhere in Britain. There had been more arrests and more were planned and the sweeps in London and the Midlands were described as intelligence-led. This was being denied by Human Rights groups who described the security forces as flailing around and arresting Muslims indiscriminately. Iran was also becoming a firm watchword. Nothing was said in any official statement, but correspondents were starting to quote sources as saying police were definitely exploring the possibility of an Iranian connection.
The situation looked threatening but the only consolation, I thought, was that it would tie up a lot of security resources, leaving fewer people available to hunt for me. I knew that so far, I’d been lucky. I had survived, but I’d made mistakes which I was going to have real trouble pulling back from. There was no point in brooding over the fight. That, at least, had been bad luck rather than bad judgement. The visit of Ray Vossler, Jeremy Simpson-Carr and Ali Omar to the World Service newsroom was simply not predictable. But I had lost the fight, or rather left it unresolved, which amounted to the same thing. Years of disuse had left my fighting skills rusty, but at least I’d been fit enough and angry enough to force a draw.
My other mistakes were more serious and less excusable. I should have known about the Dallman split-up but the most stupid of all was allowing myself to be followed to HMS Belfast. Accepting Kate’s help was a major complication but there hadn’t been any easy way to avoid it, once I had got myself trapped in the first place. On top of that I’d had to rely on her for money and for more help. As a result, I couldn’t easily send her away. I was responsible for her safety and though she seemed pretty fearless and wanted to help, her kick-and-rush style could create even more complications. All in all, I’d shown myself to have become seriously rusty. I was going to have to become a lot sharper, if we were going to survive.
When Kate came back, I filled her in on what I’d found out.
‘You’re doing quite well with all this computer stuff,’ she said, ‘the monkey has come good.’ It was an old newsroom joke. I had deliberately pretended ignorance of IT skills as part of my World Service cover and one of the IT help team had said that giving me a computer was like giving a monkey a Kalashnikov – very entertaining but fundamentally dangerous.
In the tiny saloon, Kate laid out an assortment of sandwiches and bits she had found in the galley.
‘It’s been quite a day,’ she said, ‘but at least I’ve won a private bet with myself.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I could never quite figure you for the mild-mannered Uncle John you made yourself out to be.’
‘I thought I’d done a pretty good job at concealing my past,’ I said.
‘The act wasn’t bad,’ Kate said, ‘but there were signs.’
‘Like what?’
‘It’s partly your body but mainly it’s the way you walk,’ Kate said, ‘sometimes, when you aren’t thinking about it, you walked round the newsroom as though you were looking for something to kill and eat.’
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘Not really, but women notice these things and I admit I was watching closely.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘Look,’ Kate said, ‘I don’t kid around. You know that. I was interested in you. I admit it. I was glad when the raft thing came up. I wanted a date but that has to go on hold. We don’t need distractions just at the minute’
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘But I would like a rain check.’
‘We’ll see later,’ she said, and her tone gave no clue as to how enthusiastic she was. ‘Now, sleeping arrangements, there’s only one bed, so I plan to make you an honorary woman.’
‘What?’
‘With an all-female crew, if a man had to be on board for any length of time, we’d declare him an honorary woman so we didn’t have to worry too much about modesty.’
I smiled. ‘And how does an honorary woman behave in circumstances like these?’
‘She keeps to her own side of the bed,’ Kate said firmly, ‘yours is starboard.’
Chapter 8
As the Regency facade of St John’s Wood Church came into view, two images flashed across my mind: an arch of swords leading up to the portico and the smile on Sarah’s face as she lifted the veil after our wedding vows had been sealed. I went very quiet but Kate didn’t comment and I was relieved. I hadn’t told Kate this was where I was married. The wedding was a happy memory but I had wished so many times since that I hadn’t married and dragged Sarah into the hell her life became.
Kate was driving and she was clearly in a good mood. She had been very amused at our efforts at disguise. She had refused to cut her hair on the grounds that every sailing photograph showed her either with it knotted into a pony tail or hidden under a stocking cap. Instead, she had darkened the colour slightly and allowed her hair to fall loose. That, together with the smart blue dress, certainly created an image I had never associated with her. I had also darkened my hair colour and added some heavy, clear-glass spectacles. It was all pretty basic stuff and wouldn’t fool anyone who knew either of us well, but I had learned long ago that reviewing CCTV footage or doing surveillance from old photos were nightmare jobs and small changes could be very distracting.
I gave her directions to keep clear of the church and guided her on a slow tour of the surrounding streets. It was a tour I’d made many times in preparation for an approach to Virginia. Even stretching the need for concealment to the very limit, there were only eight possible observation points for anyone watching the short route from the Walsh house to the church. When I was satisfied they were all clear, I asked Kate to park in a narrow alley, well away from the house.
‘Does that skirt hitch up easily,’ I asked, when she had switched off the engine.
Kate gave me a sideways look.
‘I’d have thought you’d already had a pretty good look at that department.’
I grinned. ‘That wasn’t what the question was about. Take a look at these pictures.’
I took out my iPhone.
‘This one in particular.’
I brought up an image of a high garden wall, overhung by trees, about two bricks wide.
‘Do you think you can walk along it, or even possibly run.’
Kate l
ooked for a moment.
‘No problem, she said. ‘I’ve got flat shoes and this skirt does hike up. Is that the escape route?’
‘Yes, in an emergency.’
‘OK,’ I can handle that.’
‘Look, I said, ‘let’s be dead serious for a moment. I don’t like pushing you into this, but I can’t see an alternative. Virginia Walsh is going to try to trap me. I think I’ve laid the groundwork well enough to stop her succeeding, but I can’t be sure. If she does succeed and you’re held as well, it’s not going to be easy for you.’
‘What will they do?’
‘I don’t think they’ll try to do too much to you. You’re too well known to be simply spirited away and they’re not going to take you to court on any silly charges because too much would come out about me and they won’t want that. But I’d still rather you didn’t get caught.’
‘Do you want me to stay in the car while you go in? I could see she wasn’t making the offer with any enthusiasm, but I was glad she was taking the problem seriously enough to ask.
I shook my head. ‘Too risky.’
‘Omar?’
‘Yes. I don’t even know whether he’s in play,’ I said. ‘I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, or whether Vossler will let him come after me, but if he is fit and he does come looking, he’ll let me go into the house then he’ll take you.’
‘I understand.’ Kate said. ‘So what’s the plan.’
I turned the iPhone so she could read the screen more easily. ‘First, these are the targets,’ I said. I showed her pictures of Virginia and her husband Ronald.
‘She never misses church when she’s in London,’ I said. ‘Their house is only a short distance away. There’s a path from the back door of their garden which leads straight to the church’
I ran a series of pictures showing the back of the house, the path and the church entrance.
‘They always walk this way and they always go to morning service.’
‘She’s very religious?’
‘No, but her husband is. He’s an international corporate tax consultant who belongs to an organisation called Accountants for the Risen Christ.’
That left even Kate speechless for a moment.
‘It’s the one area where Virginia lets him lead,’ I said, ‘she has no ambitions in the ecclesiastical field, so once a week she plays the dutiful wife and walks a figurative step behind. The other six days, she runs the show.’
Kate smiled.
‘You really don’t like her do you.’
‘I have my reasons. She could have got me out of this whole business long ago if she had wanted to.’
‘But you think she’ll do anything now?’
‘Not willingly but I have some leverage I’ve been storing up.’
‘You couldn’t do it by phone I suppose.’
‘Not a chance and anyway, I want to scare her a bit. She needs to be reminded that I can get into her house and out again without her being able to stop me.’
I looked at my watch. ‘They should be appearing any moment now.’
‘Will it be easy to grab her?’ Kate asked.
‘Yes. Virginia won’t want a fuss and Ronald is too timid to intervene’.
‘Not an action man, then?’
‘No, chubby and cheerful. Not very worldly. Doesn’t have many interests outside the church and money. Hugely prosperous. Brilliant tax lawyer. Does a lot of favours for Virginia’s colleagues and the marriage gives her a secure and prosperous base.’
I had laid the ambush plan as carefully as I knew how, but in the end, there was one big flaw: they didn’t come. We waited until five minutes before the service, but there was no sign or them.
‘They’re never usually this late,’ I said, ‘we’d better go straight to the church.’
‘Could she be too scared to come out?’
‘Possibly, but I doubt it. We’ll go in separately. They always sit near the front on the left hand side, so stay well to the right. I’ll find a pew at the back. And don’t forget,’ I smiled, ‘be discreet.’
‘Like a church mouse,’ Kate promised.
It took us only a few minutes to follow the shortcut they normally took, through the small park at the back of the church. The walkway was cool and shady. Several people were sitting on benches, reading or watching children playing on the grassy open spaces. Here and there, an ancient tombstone had been incorporated into the verge at the side of the path, but the whole area had been carefully landscaped to invite people into a leisure area, rather than an old churchyard.
As we approached the church, I paused by the notice board. When Kate was inside, I made my way slowly to the porch. An elderly sides-woman greeted me warmly.
‘Good morning,’ she said, ‘are you visiting the area?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m staying with friends nearby.’
‘Are they members of the congregation?’
‘No, they aren’t Anglicans.’
The woman showed no surprise.
‘Well, you are welcome. I hope you enjoy the service. We have the full choir this morning. We’re very proud of our music.’
I took a hymn book, a prayer book and an order of service and seated myself in one of the rear pews on the left-hand side of the church. I knelt briefly in prayer and quickly scanned the congregation. The church was already more than two-thirds full but there was no sign of Virginia or her husband. I watched Kate walk down the aisle and choose a pew on the right-hand side, where she was virtually hidden by a pillar and no-one showed any sign of recognising her.
I looked at the sky through the great window above the altar. There was no stained glass and the clear panes framed tree foliage moving gently in the wind. I did another quick check on all the pews. Still no Walshes. The organ was already playing and the service was due to begin in little more than five minutes. It looked as though we were going to need a new plan.
Then with minutes to spare, the Walshes suddenly appeared. A vestry door open at the side of the altar and several people emerged, led by Ronald Walsh, looking elegant and self-important. There had obviously been some kind of meeting of church lay people just before the service and Walsh, with his wife half a step behind him, was conveying the impression that only the most important business had kept them busy so close to time.
Kate saw immediately that the targets had arrived. She turned and I gave her the barest nod of confirmation before bowing my head to reduce the risk of being seen. The organ music sounded the opening chords of the service, the vicar took his place in the pulpit and the congregation rose to sing the introductory hymn. The Walshes were in the front pew and showed no sign of having noticed anything unusual. Ronald was singing loudly, with hymn book held high. I wasn’t entirely happy with the viewing angles. If Virginia turned round suddenly, she could just about see me, but there was no reason why she should, and anyway, it was too late to try to move.
For the first few minutes of the service, all went smoothly. The choir sang, the vicar said the first prayers and I concentrated on working out my moves for after the service. As far as I could remember, the vicar waited in the porch and invited visitors to take coffee with members of the parish in one of the ante-rooms. The Walshes certainly wouldn’t miss that. The question was: should I wait till afterwards and hope they didn’t leave with someone, or should I try to cut them out of the pack before it all became too convivial? In the event, chance took a hand and pre-empted the decision.
Ten minutes into the service, a baby started to cry. Everyone was surprised by the noise. It was a Sung Eucharist, not a family service and the worshippers clearly weren’t expecting young children in the congregation. Virginia Walsh turned, her face showing irritation at the intrusive sounds, and she immediately spotted me. She turned back instantly, but I could see how disturbed she was. She whispered something to her husband and they both got up, bowed to the altar, and made for the vestry door. I knew Kate wouldn’t need telling to follow them. I didn’t want to go
to the front of the church but I had to get out of the main door and round the outside of the church fast enough to cut them off.
In the event, I found I needn’t have worried. By the time I had sprinted round the outside of the building, Kate already had the situation under control. Ronald Walsh had obviously reached for his mobile, but Kate was firmly restraining him, and he was furious at discovering he wasn’t strong enough to pull his hand away.
‘Good morning Virginia, sorry to interrupt your worship,’ I said, ‘put that away please, Ronald, I just want to talk to Virginia.’
‘You’re heading for trouble, John,’ Virginia said, ‘you can’t do this in broad daylight.’
‘I’m already in trouble,’ I said calmly, ‘I just need some information.’
‘We can’t talk here,’ Virginia said.
‘Your house will do fine. Just walk us home, calmly. Keep it nice and friendly. This is Kate, by the way, a friend of mine.’
‘A very rude friend,’ Ronald snapped.
‘Mr. Walsh,’ Kate said, ‘I’m quite happy not to be rude but if you reach for that cell again, I may just break your arm. Do we understand each other?’
Kate’s tone was matter if fact, but neither Virginia nor Ronald seemed to doubt that she could do it.
‘Very well then,’ Virginia said, ‘let’s get this over with. You know the way.’
We walked in pairs, Virginia tight-lipped and silent beside me, Ronald with Kate, through the church grounds and up the street to the Walshes’ house.
Ronald activated the electronic gates and Virginia led us through into the courtyard and onto a large patio, with comfortable garden furniture, shaded by overhanging trees and surrounded by brightly flowering shrubs in terra cotta pots. Ronald started to open the door to the inner bar area but I stopped him short.
‘Don’t worry about the hospitality number, this won’t take long. Virginia and I will go to the study,’ I said, ‘Kate will stay with you. She’s not involved in this.’
Virginia opened the door of her small book-lined study overlooking the garden.
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