Red Station

SEVENTY

Marcella Rudmann sat and waited for confirmation from the front desk that Harry Tate had left the building. When the call came, the security man asked if she wanted Tate followed.

‘Don’t bother,’ she said. ‘He’ll spot whoever you send after him.’

She cut the connection and made two calls, then walked along the corridor to a small office at the end. It was windowless, drab and overheated, and contained a single desk holding an array of audio equipment. A man in shirtsleeves sat waiting.

He stood up when she entered. His name was Everett and he was a senior officer in Home Office Security and had Rudmann’s full confidence.

‘Did you get all that?’ she asked.

Everett nodded. ‘Nice and clear.’ He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘I’ll get it transcribed right away.’ He paused. ‘Tate’s a bit of a time-bomb, isn’t he? Is it true what he said — about your front door?’

‘Yes.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll arrange it today. I’m more concerned about what he claims about Red Station. If it’s true, it’s appalling.’ She looked at her hands as if wanting to wash them clean, and paced across the office and back. Everett waited for her to speak. ‘I’ve just had confirmation that George Paulton has disappeared,’ she said finally. ‘I always had my doubts about that man. And the police have now identified the man they believe was responsible for Shaun Whelan’s death. It wasn’t a mugging. The killer is a subcontractor for the security services.’

‘Ouch.’ Everett pulled a face. ‘And Paulton was involved.’

‘I’m certain of it.’

Everett’s eyebrows rose. ‘I’ll talk to the Met. Not that I expect they’ll find anything; if Paulton’s gone, he’ll have covered his tracks.’ He hesitated. ‘It leaves Sir Anthony Bellingham rather exposed, doesn’t it?’

Rudmann nodded. She had reached the same conclusion. Which was why the other call she had made before leaving her office had been to the deputy PM.

His question had been simple and to the point. Two very senior security officers had gone stratospherically beyond their brief. What was she going to do about it?