Carver

80

Cheapside, Berkshire, and Parkview Hospital

‘ So now what? ’ Razzaq asked, as a Chinook carrying eight very disgruntled SAS men back to Hereford clattered overhead, its occupants totally unaware that the target they had so spectacularly missed was just a few hundred feet beneath them.

‘So now the game has turned around, just like I said it would,’ said Zorn, making it sound like a fascinating prospect. ‘And it’s kind of interesting, y’know?’

‘I’m not sure I do,’ confessed Razzaq.

‘Well, let’s just play around with a few scenarios. Suppose Drinkwater is dead. I don’t believe he is, but let’s stay with me on this. If he’s dead, then the Brits can tell the world that Malachi Zorn is dead. And who’s going to contradict them? The only person who could do that would be me. And I’m not exactly going to advertise my existence right now.’

‘Of course,’ Razzaq agreed. ‘But that’s exactly what you wanted. Everyone thinks you’re dead. You’ve got the money. That’s perfect!’

Zorn shook his head. ‘No, it would be perfect if everyone thought I was dead. But the Brits know I’m not. So they can come after me. And if they get to me they can kill me, and they don’t have to worry about it, because the rest of the world thinks I’m dead already. Got it?’

‘Yes,’ said Razzaq, ‘that is a problem.’

‘In theory, yes, but, see, I don’t think Drinkwater is dead. I don’t think a government, or anyone working for it, or even with its knowledge, goes right ahead and deliberately kills the wrong target.’

Razzaq looked unconvinced. ‘You’re still assuming they knew that you were using a double. We don’t know that for sure.’

‘Why else would they have raided the Wentworth house?’

‘They could have been looking for evidence.’

‘No!’ Zorn insisted. ‘If the Brits knew that I ordered the Rosconway attack, and if they also thought I was in the car, all they’d be looking for in the house would be evidence on paper or in computer files. So they’d send in the cops, or maybe some spooks from MI5. If they sent in special forces, it’s because they were looking for me and they were ready to use force.’

‘That makes sense,’ Razzaq conceded, ‘although it is still possible that they might have been allowing the possibility of resistance from other people: myself, for example.’

Zorn grinned. ‘No, Ahmad. You would never be that stupid. You would have called them first and offered to cut a deal.’

Razzaq burst out laughing. ‘I will not even pretend to deny that! You know me too well.’

‘So, let’s get back to Michael Abraham Drinkwater. Let’s assume he’s alive and the Brits have got him. What’s the first thing we know for sure?’

Razzaq smiled. ‘Once again, they can still kill you.’

Zorn was not the slightest bit offended by Razzaq’s amusement. ‘You got it! And why can they kill me?’

‘Because once they produce Drinkwater and say that he is you, the rest of the world believes you are still alive. So how can you possibly be dead?’

‘You got it in one. Outstanding! So, look at it from the Brits’ point of view. If they think it through the same way we did…’

‘They might not. Maybe they’re not that clever.’

‘Their politicians might not be,’ Zorn agreed. ‘But don’t tell me there aren’t people in the intelligence community who can’t see the way this plays out.’

‘Certainly there are such people in the Security Service and the Secret Intelligence Service. And if Carver somehow managed to discover that you were using a double, then he may also have realized that he can now kill you — the real you — with impunity. Assuming that he wants to, of course. Mr Carver is surprisingly picky about his targets for a man who makes a living as an assassin.’

‘He might not have a choice,’ Zorn pointed out. ‘You recruited him through blackmail. What’s to stop them doing the same thing? But I’m not so worried about that. I was always going to disappear when all this was over, but…’

‘… but there’s another way you could play it,’ Carver said.

He, Grantham and Young had commandeered one of the hospital’s consulting rooms. Grantham had immediately placed himself behind the desk, in the doctor’s position. Carver and Young were sat in the chairs opposite, like patients. Grantham had just been setting out the strength of their position. ‘This Drinkwater idiot is our ace in the hole,’ he said. ‘Of course, the wife and kids may need a bit of handling. Perhaps I can persuade the Americans to stick them inside the witness protection programme, or something. Give them new names. Make them disappear where no one will ever find them. We can’t have the missus pointing at our new Mr Zorn and saying, “Hey, that’s my hubby!”’

‘Then there’s the whole issue of Drinkwater’s cancer,’ Carver pointed out. ‘If he really is going to be dead in months, that means he comes with a sell-by date. But there’s another way you could play it.’

‘What other way?’ Young asked, dreading the answer.

‘Well, the traditional intelligence way of operating is based on the idea that you absolutely don’t want other people to know what you’re doing.’

‘Yes, Carver,’ said Grantham, ‘that’s why we’re called the Secret Intelligence Service. The clue is in the name.’

‘Right, and that makes you strong in one way. But it also limits your resources. There’s only so many minds working on any one problem: the people directly under your command, and whatever allies you can find in other agencies who can be trusted to keep your secrets.’

‘You’re joking. I don’t trust anyone,’ said Grantham.

‘Exactly. Right now, you’re looking at Zorn as a problem you and a very few other people have to solve. But the other way to crack a problem is to be as open as possible. Give it to anyone who wants to play with it, take it to pieces, or fix it in any way they want.’

All Young’s worst fears had been realized. ‘I’m sorry, Carver, but are you seriously suggesting we throw open all the United Kingdom’s most valuable secrets and let any Tom, Dick and Harry play with them?’

‘No, but I am suggesting a way that you could get a lot of very powerful help to deal with Malachi Zorn.’