Red Station

SIXTY-FIVE

Harry met Rik the following morning in a burger bar near Waterloo station. He wanted to discuss tactics. He had already visited Maloney’s friendly doctor for a change of bandages and a pronouncement that the wound was free of infection.

They found a table against the back wall. Harry had checked the rear and found a fire exit leading down to a narrow side street.

‘Is this what it’s going to be like?’ said Rik, twirling a tall mug of Cola. He sounded depressed. ‘Eyes in the back of our heads and frightened to go out anywhere?’

‘It doesn’t have to be.’ Harry tried not to scratch at his arm. It was driving him nuts. ‘Not if I can help it.’

‘Hope not. My mother’s already asking when am I going back to work. She’s not used to me being at home like this.’

‘It won’t be much longer.’ Harry sipped his coffee. It was worse than the stuff he’d been drinking in Georgia. At least that brew had a kick to it.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘Before we left, Mace gave me two names. One is Sir Anthony Bellingham.’

Rik nodded. ‘MI6. Something to do with operations.’

‘Right. He’s the one who set up Red Station… also the one who set Latham on us.’

Rik stared down at the table. ‘You do pick them, don’t you? Who’s the other one — the PM?’

‘Marcella Rudmann.’

‘Oh. Yeah. The one on the Joint Intelligence Committee.’ To Harry’s surprise, Rik began to look shifty.

‘You’ve heard of her.’

‘Sort of.’

‘How sort of?’

Rik shifted awkwardly in his seat. ‘She was one of the names I was looking at when I got caught and tabbed.’

Harry chuckled. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘No. I was looking through some operation files to do with Afghanistan and saw her name attached to a JIC note. I wondered who she was, that was all.’ He picked at the table with his thumbnail. ‘I… uh, took a look around her computer files.’ He looked abashed. ‘She’s got a secret boyfriend.’

‘So what? It happens, you know — even among politicians. Especially politicians. It’s called sex.’

‘I know. But she’s already in a long-term relationship.’

‘I think you need to get out more.’

‘With a woman.’

‘Ah. Really? That’s different.’ Harry lifted an eyebrow. Information was power. The only question was, if push came to shove, would he use it? ‘Anyone I’d know?’

‘Her partner’s in politics — a second secretary or something like that. The boyfriend’s in pharmaceuticals. Very big.’ He shrugged. ‘I got out of there quick.’

Harry breathed deeply, his mind working. ‘Did you leave a trace?’

‘No!’ Rik looked affronted.

‘Could you get into the files again — if you had to?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good. For now, get me her home address and phone number.’

‘No problem. I’ll access the Civil Service Directory.’

Harry nearly laughed. ‘It’s as simple as that?’

‘Well, not quite. There’s a gateway to a sub-level directory for specialist contacts; I’ll have to go through that first. But it’s doable. Why do you need her stuff?’

‘Because she’s in the right job, powerful, connected and I want to unsettle her. If I just ring her at the office and say “Hi, honey, I’m home” she’ll have the Rottweilers on our backs before I put the phone down. I have to get to her in a way that won’t get me arrested.’

‘Oh. OK.’

‘Then there’s Bellingham.’

‘I was afraid you’d get round to him. He’s bad news. His address won’t be on file.’

‘Probably not. But he’s the main mover behind this, along with Paulton. And any time I want him, he’ll be in Vauxhall Cross.’

‘But you can’t go in there.’

‘I don’t intend to.’

‘What, then?’

‘I want you to access Clarion.’

‘What?’ Rik nearly overturned his drink and scrambled to rescue it, attracting a scowl from the woman behind the counter. Probably thinks we’re discussing a drugs deal, thought Harry.

He handed Rik a tissue. ‘Take it easy. We can do this.’

‘No way, man — you’re nuts!’

‘Well, if it’s beyond you.’ Harry shrugged and began to get up.

‘No. Wait… I can. I will. Just… give me a second.’ Rik finished mopping the table and tossed the sodden tissue aside. ‘That was a low blow.’ He looked genuinely hurt.

‘I know.’ Harry smiled. ‘That’s why I said it. You in or not?’

Rik relaxed, mollified. ‘OK. I suppose.’ He chewed his lip for a few seconds, then said, ‘I’ll need a laptop — a good netbook would be better — and a list of places where we can hook into the wireless network and move on. When we hit the directory and then Clarion, it’ll have to be in short bursts in case they’ve got a watch on them — and I bet they do.’

Harry took an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to Rik. If the woman hadn’t suspected they were conducting a drugs deal before, she certainly would now. ‘There’s five hundred in there. Do what you have to and we’ll meet up again tomorrow. Can you do it?’

‘Easy. I’ll pick up a machine and check out some places where we can work.’

‘Even better.’ Harry was impressed. Rik evidently worked best when he was challenged on his own turf. ‘Call me when you’re set.’

After Rik had gone, Harry took out a new Pay As You Go mobile and dialled a number from memory. When it was answered, he asked for George Paulton. Time to set the ball rolling.

‘Which department is that?’ said the operator smoothly.

‘Operations.’ Harry quoted a six-digit code, part of which was Paulton’s extension. He doubted it would still work because the codes were changed on a regular basis. But it might get him past the watchdog on reception.

‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t recognize that number. Could I ask who’s calling, please?’

‘Tell him it’s Harry Tate. I’d like to meet.’

‘Mr Tate? Just a moment, sir.’

Harry counted to ten, then twenty. Paulton was playing hard to get. Nobody should be faster at answering his phone when a ‘hot’ name was mentioned. And right now, the name Harry Tate should be melting the wires around the building.

He switched off the mobile and walked outside. An entire system committed to tracing and analysing calls would now be trying to find where the call had originated, triggered by his use of an out-of-date code. He dumped the mobile in a rubbish skip. He had others and would try again.

Next he called Maloney.

‘I can’t get to Paulton. You heard anything?’

‘I was about to call you.’ Maloney sounded worried. In the background Harry could hear voices and the shrill ring of telephones.

‘What’s up?’

‘First the good news. I got the aerials. You were right: they show a Land Rover parked all afternoon next to an old boat. It was left in such a way it looked like a write-off… doors open and a damaged roof. But in a sweep the following morning, it was gone.’

‘Surprise, surprise. It was down by the landing stage. Good vehicle for driving through mud and picking up a load of drugs.’

‘Right. Anyway, I spoke to Doyle; he’s making noises and they’re turning over the area right now, especially the old boat. That’s probably where they were hiding.’

‘Anything on the boyfriend?’

‘Nothing yet. They’re still processing his prints. They think he might be foreign — maybe Romanian.’

Harry waited, then said, ‘OK. So what’s the bad news?’

‘Paulton’s gone missing.’