A Devil is vaiting

SIX

It was dark below by the Thames as the Alfa moved down the hill and pulled up in front of the pub, which was ablaze with lights.

Well, here we are, the Dark Man, the first piece of property Harry Salter ever owned, the beginnings of his empire.

Sara smiled. Oh, he has one of those, does he?

Ever since he discovered there was more money to be made from business than crime. He was known in the London underworld as a right villain. He only did prison time once in his youth, and that was enough. These days he s behind some of the biggest developments on the river.

And his connection with Ferguson? What s all that about?

A bit like the rest of us, pulling together in these uncertain times to keep the ship afloat. London gangsters have their uses.

Just like reformed IRA gunmen. She got out and limped quite heavily to the edge of the jetty, looking across at a passing riverboat, music echoing over the water. I love all this, even the smell of it.

He moved to her side. Are you okay?

She glanced at him. You re worried about my leg, aren t you? I m fine, really I am. So I get a bit cramped in a car and I need to loosen up a touch when I m on my feet.

He felt suddenly awkward. I was just concerned.

I know, but it is what I am now. It won t go away.

So I won t mention it again. He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth. Do you use these?

Good heavens, no, and neither should you.

He d taken out his lighter and paused. She took it from him, tossed it into the water, and held out her hand, palm up, without a word. He hesitated, then passed the cigarette pack across. It followed the lighter into the Thames.

Do you always get your own way? he asked.

When I m in the right, I do. I insist on it. She took his arm and walked him a little way along the jetty. What s the boat tied up there at the end?

An old riverboat, the Linda Jones, Harry s pride and joy. He owns bigger boats that do the tourist runs and so on. He knows the Thames better than anyone a river rat since childhood.

Well, let s go and meet him, then, she said, and they turned and walked toward the entrance of the pub.

Henri Legrande had kept the Citro n well back and he and Kelly sat there, waiting for Holley and Sara to go inside. When they had gone, he turned on the Citro n s interior light and leafed through the file, paying particular attention to the photos.

So here we are, Harry and Billy Salter, but perhaps there could be others in there with them, he said, and he checked through all the photos again.

So what do you want to do? Kelly asked. If Holley sees me, we re done for. He knows me well.

But not me. Henri smiled and closed the file.

A drink at the bar is called for. You keep your head down. I won t be long.

He turned off the interior light and walked to the entrance.

The bar was at least half full, certainly enough for him not to feel out of place. He recognized the Salters sitting in the corner booth and also their minders, standing behind them, Joe Baxter and Sam Hall. Sara was receiving considerable attention from the men, Holley watching.

The blond barmaid approached Henri and said, And what can I do for you, dear?

He d been looking up at the bar shelves and said, I see you have a bottle of Pernod there. I ll have a large one.

She reached up and took the bottle down. It s been up here for ever such a long time. Not even open. A funny-looking screw cap. She tried it and made a face. I can t do a thing with this.

If you would allow me, mam selle. He eased the top open effortlessly.

She pushed a glass over. You must have a strong hand. Have a large one on the house. I ll find a stopper for it.

Why, thank you. He poured and toasted her.

Harry Salter called, Over here, Dora, you ve got to meet this lady. He was back with Sara again now. You ll have something to eat, I hope? Dora s hot pot is out of this world.

Well, I certainly wouldn t want to miss that, Sara told him, and shook hands with Dora as she came round the bar to meet her.

I ve heard all about you, love, said Dora, getting a medal for bravery and everything. Marvelous what a real woman can do when she puts her mind to it. Shows the bleeding men the way for a change.

Well, I don t know about that, Sara said.

Well, I do. Here, come and have a look at my kitchen.

Sara smiled helplessly at Holley and went off with her, and Harry said, Sit down, my old son. What an amazing girl she is, and how many Taliban did she knock out with that machine gun?

A lot, Holley said.

The newspapers will really go to town with it. A great story.

I don t think they ll be allowed to tell it, Holley said. A question of security.

Have you told her that?

That s Ferguson s job, not mine.

What s this meeting about on Thursday? Roper left a message saying we had to report in.

Something to do with the President flying in Friday morning.

Is it right he s only here for twenty-four hours?

A whistle-stop tour. Paris, Berlin, Brussels. Harry Miller s coordinated all the security. Maybe he s got jobs for us.

We ll see, Harry Salter said, and at that moment the two women returned, Dora pushing a trolley.

Right, sit round the tables, the lot of you, and let s get started.

Henri, apparently absorbed in an Evening Standard he d found at the end of the bar, put it down, finished his Pernod, and went out and rejoined Kelly in the Citro n.

So what s the story?

Henri told him everything. It would be interesting to know what s being said at the meeting on Thursday.

Well, there s not much you can do about that, Kelly said.

Perhaps not, but it might be amusing to cause a little mischief right now.

Like what?

Watch and learn. He reached across, opened the glove compartment, and took out a flashlight and a pair of vicious-looking steel wire cutters. That should do the trick. You stay here.

He walked down to the Alfa, ducked until he was out of sight. Kelly couldn t even get a hint of what he was doing, afraid that someone might emerge from the pub entrance at any moment. Luck was certainly on Henri s side, for as he reappeared and started to walk back, the door opened to a burst of laughter, and three men emerged. They got into a car and drove away.

As Henri joined him, Kelly said, By God, that was close. What were you up to?

Henri replaced the flashlight and the wire cutters where he had found them, took out a duster, and wiped his hands.

What s that smell? Kelly asked.

Hydraulic braking fluid. I sliced the main tube. I m afraid the next time friend Holley drives his car and tries to brake, he ll get a nasty surprise.

You bastard, Kelly said. Are we going to stay to watch?

We don t need to be here. The accident will occur whether we are or not. But it might be amusing. Let s give it half an hour.

Which they did, and quite a few people left during that period. In fact, forty-five minutes had elapsed when Henri said, To hell with it, we ll go.

At that moment, Sara and Holley appeared, followed by the Salters, with Baxter and Hall standing in the entrance. There was a short exchange, laughter, then Sara and Holley got in the Alfa. The engine fired, and the Alfa moved forward, turning in a wide circle to point toward the exit road. Suddenly, the engine note deepened, and the Alfa swerved violently toward the edge of the wharf, bouncing sideways into a bollard, which was the only thing that saved it from going over into the Thames.

Holley scrambled out, turned, and reached for Sara, whose door was jammed. He pulled her toward him and she said, I m fine, really I am.

The Salters arrived with Baxter and Hall, and Holley said,

I braked on the turn and nothing happened. I can t understand it.

Baxter was already on his knees, peering under the car. Brake fluid dripping all over the bloody place, Harry. He reached inside and pushed on the pedal. Nothing doing.

You were bloody lucky, my old son, Harry said.

If it hadn t been for that bollard, you d have been down on the bottom and fighting to get out. It s ten feet deep down there.

Billy said, Sure you re okay, Sara?

I m good, she said. No problem. What happens now?

Harry said to Baxter, You handle this, Joe, get the garage on it. Meanwhile, give Daniel the keys to one of the Mercedes. He turned to Holley. We ve got three here, so you might as well take one. You ll need it to get to Holland Park in the morning.

That s brilliant, Holley said.

A number of people had emerged from the pub, paused to see what was going on, and then had moved on to their parked cars. Henri and Kelly joined in the general exodus.

My God, we nearly had them, Kelly said.

Yes, we did, but never mind, Henri told him.

There will be other times.

As they passed the Tower of London on the way back, Holley said,

Are you sure that you re all right, Sara?

Of course I am. It could have turned nasty, it didn t. I wouldn t say no to a drink. She looked at her watch. It s only ten o clock. Can we drop in at the Dorchester Bar?

Of course we can.

What an evening, she said. It was fun. I liked the Salters.

And Dora s hot pot.

Was bloody marvelous. She should patent it.

He pulled in at the front of the Dorchester, handed his keys over, and they went in. It was busy, but there was nothing surprising in that. The problem was, the bar was packed, and so was the concourse, with the late-supper trade.

It would appear to be just one of those nights, he said. I can only apologize.

What for? I m sure you have an absolutely wonderful suite waiting upstairs. Can we take a look?

The maids had dimmed the lights and left the French windows in the sitting room open to the night air, because that was the way Holley liked it. The white gossamer curtains stirred constantly, like living things, giving the whole room an eerie feeling.

This is extraordinary, Sara told him.

What would you like to drink?

Champagne, please.

The curtains were like cobwebs to be brushed aside as she went through, but the view from the terrace high up above Mayfair and Hyde Park, the splendor of the city at night, lights stretching into the distance, was incredible.

Holley came out with a bottle of Dom Perignon in an ice bucket with two glasses. He filled them and offered her one. She ran the ice-cold glass against her forehead.

That s lovely, she said.

What do we drink to?

Oh, to love in spite of war, and to this incredibly wonderful place we re in now, which is not the real world and never could be. Out there, one way or the other, it s all Afghanistan, where the beast rules.

I think I see where you re coming from, Holley told her. But what exactly are you saying?

You pointed out that you never had much time for relationships in your line of work, because although you were here today, you were very possibly gone tomorrow, and you meant permanently.

Which is true.

What would you say if I said I d like you to take me to bed?

I d say no.

But why? She looked genuinely bewildered.

I know how you feel about me. It s been obvious from the moment we met. In case you hadn t noticed, I m a woman. We know about these things.

He took her empty glass from her hand and refilled it. Would you just listen to me? In the old days, I ran guns out of Algiers to the Mafia, so I was familiar with the part of Sicilian folklore that speaks of the thunderbolt that strikes a man when he meets the special woman, the only woman.

She stopped drinking, just stared at him. What are you trying to say?

That I always thought it was nonsense until I saw the most desirable and endearing woman I d ever set eyes on limping around that dance floor at the Pierre.

So why won t you take me to bed?

Well, God help anyone who tries to do you harm, but regarding anything else… Sara, I fear I m carrying too much baggage. And as you may have noticed, I m too old for you.

Her expression was unreadable, though there was a touch of triumph there. Oh, you poor old boy. She emptied her glass and dropped it into the champagne bucket. You can take me home now.

She was smiling as they went down in the lift, smiled at the doorman when he got the Mercedes for them, was still smiling when they turned into Highfield Court, and Holley, leaving his engine running, went round and opened the door for her.

What a gentleman, she said.

It s an older-guy thing, he told her.

I ll leave you till tomorrow. You ll want to spend some quality time with your granddad. I ll pick you up for Thursday around noon.

As he moved away, she said, Aren t you forgetting something? He turned, and she stepped in close, reached up and kissed him on the mouth, held the moment, then smiled. Not bad. Not bad at all for a poor old boy. She turned and went in.

Sadie was hovering in the hall. Did you have a good evening?

It was very interesting.

I saw you kissing him. You haven t been doing anything silly, have you?

Well, I offered, but he turned me down. Sara laughed. Would you like to know why? Because he loves me too much. She shook her head and spoke as if to herself. I m really going to have to do something about you, Daniel.

You don t think it would be more sensible to let him go? Sadie asked.

What a waste of a good man that would be. They re in short supply, or hadn t you noticed?

Sadie was annoyed. Why has everything got to be such a joke to you?

Because sometimes life is a joke, like Afghanistan was a joke. If I hadn t been able to see that, two tours in that hellhole would have driven me insane. The wildness, the pain that erupted on Sara s face was frightening.

Sadie was immediately contrite. I m sorry, darling.

Aren t we all. When s Granddad due?

Sometime after midnight. They ll send him home with a chauffeur, they always do. I m going to wait up for him. What about you?

I d better go to bed. New York was a long time ago, and Tucson is just a distant memory.

You must be exhausted. A holiday is what you need.

No chance. After all, I ve only just started with this new outfit. I ve got to find my way. I ve got tomorrow off anyway. Sara was yawning now. Night bless, Sadie, I m going to get my head down.

Holley was enjoying a glass of the Dom Perignon as a nightcap when Roper called him on his Codex. Harry s been in touch. I understand you took Sara down to the Dark Man tonight and there was an incident.

An accident of sorts. I was driving the Alfa, and when we were leaving I suddenly lost all braking power. We could have gone in the river, but fortunately a bollard got in the way.

Sara s all right, is she?

We both are. Harry s sorting it. Loaned me a Merc.

Well, he s had the night crew down from that garage he owns, and it wasn t any accident. A main tube feeding the hydraulic system was deliberately severed. As it s steel mesh covered, it would have needed a special cutter to do it, used by someone who knew his business.

That doesn t fit the profile of some ordinary vandal, Holley said.

Daniel, Harry Salter is still revered in certain circles, because he was once one of the most powerful guvnors in the London underworld. Vandals and hoodlums and the like would never try to pull something at his own pub. It would be like committing suicide.

You re saying we were targeted?

That s about the size of it.

Sara and I were there for about an hour and a half. It wasn t particularly busy, well-behaved people having a night out, enjoying themselves. Did any of Harry s folk have anything to report?

Come to think of it, Dora did mention something unusual.

Such as?

Some French guy asked for a Pernod.

And did she give him one?

Apparently, she had a bottle on the bar shelf that had been standing there forever and never opened, and he did it for her. She said he was very charming, gray-haired, with those steel-rimmed round spectacles, and he wore a black trench coat.

And she d never seen him before?

Never. Do you think it s important?

It s certainly unusual, especially considering the coincidence that Sara and I were visiting.

True, Roper said. And the third unusual fact, Watson, as Sherlock would have said, concerns the Alfa Romeo that almost went into the Thames.

So it could be we were followed with evil intent by an unknown Frenchman seeking an opportunity to do us harm. No hint of Islam there?

Dora said he spoke English like Maurice Chevalier and looked like Jean Gabin in one of those old gangster movies you know, the ones where he s just out of jail to do one last job, looks permanently tired, and you know it s all going to end badly.

Well, that s something, Holley said.

A starting point. We ve known for some time now that the French Secret Service operates undercover in London. Get on to your friends at DGSE headquarters in Paris and see if they can help.

They ll deny being here.

Then phone one of the guys who isn t supposed to be here, such as Claude Duval, and see what he has to say. I ll go to bed now. I m bushed.

It was quiet in the computer room at Holland Park, the multiplicity of screens from around the world somehow enclosing Roper as he sat there thinking about the conversation he d just had.

Sergeant Doyle came in with a mug of tea and a bacon sandwich.

There you go, Major. I ll be having a lie-down in the duty room. I won t say take it easy, because you never do.

I love you, too, Tony.

He lit a cigarette and made a phone call. A voice echoed round the room in French. Duval here. Who in the hell is that? It s one o clock in the morning.

Roper answered in English. Roper. Just turn your back on whichever delectable lady is sharing your bed, Claude, and listen to me.

So what is it now, Giles? Duval said in English.

I m sure it s no news to you that we ve taken on new blood at Holland Park.

You mean, of course, the magnificent Captain Sara Gideon? Duval was much more alert now. Is there a problem?

Roper recounted the episode at the Dark Man in detail. What do you think?

That Sherlock Holmes would be proud of you, and I agree: The Pernod-drinking Frenchman is too much of a coincidence. The good Dora s description is remarkable. She should have been a film critic. I used to love those black-and-white gangster movies with people like Jean Gabin. I ll bear what she said in mind.

I d be grateful.

Needless to say, he was not one of ours.

Perish the thought, Roper told him, and switched off.

Holley didn t raise his head until ten-thirty, the travel catching up with him. The telephone brought him back to life.

It was Sara. Did you sleep well?

Like a log. What about you?

Drifted in and out. I do that a lot. I often leave my radio on.

What have you got planned?

That should be what has Rabbi Nathan Gideon got planned. He s doing one of his big fund-raising tours, all for charity. Four days, maybe five. Leeds, Manchester, Edinburgh, they can t get enough of him. He left half an hour ago. What are you up to?

I sometimes go for a run.

Which is beyond me these days.

Well, I may be an older guy, but I m still up for a stroll in the park.

That sounds good to me. I ll be waiting.

He showered and dressed, and just before he left, two things happened. The concierge phoned to say the Alfa had just been delivered, and they d exchanged it for the Mercedes. Next came Roper to inform him of his conversation with Claude Duval.

So you see, he said when he had finished,

He believes our Pernod-drinking Frenchman to be too much of a coincidence. Duval s a good man to have on our side.

I m sure he is.

I m just leaving to go and meet up with him in Hyde Park. Tony s taking me in the van.

What s that all about? I m picking up Sara in a few minutes to go for a walk in the park.

Claude and I have a mutual interest in someone who s agitating at Speakers Corner this morning, Ali Selim.

What s he rabble-rousing about now?

The President s visit on Friday. What he s already calling the Great Satan s descent on London.

That could lead to a riot, Giles. Not exactly the right scene for a man in a wheelchair.

Oh, the police will be out in force, but if you are going anywhere near, make sure you ve both got your warrant cards with you.

When Holley drove the Alfa into Highfield Court, Sara came out to meet him wearing a khaki linen suit, a brown leather bag over one shoulder. He was wearing Ray-Bans, his flying jacket, and blue cords.

You re still looking very sharp, she told him. We don t need the car, it s only a short walk to Park Lane, and the subway will take us straight into Hyde Park.

And right next to Speakers Corner, he said. I was going to talk to you about that. Have you got your warrant card?

Oh yes, it was a present from Roper in a package he had delivered to the house along with this. She opened her bag and took out a snub-nosed. 22 Colt. With the new silencer.

Plus hollow points?

Naturally.

Well, you must carry them at all times. There s been a development. Put your fine Intelligence Corps mind on this.

He told her what had been discovered about the Alfa, the Frenchman at the Dark Man, Claude Duval, everything.

As they turned into Park Lane, she said, Whoever it is, it must be you they re targeting, Daniel. I ve only just joined.

That s a fair point, Holley said.

Let s talk as we walk. She slipped her hand into his arm.

Henri Legrande and Kelly had followed the Alfa from the Dorchester and were sitting in the Citro n in South Audley Street waiting for the Alfa to emerge.

When Holley and Sara appeared, Henri said, I m going to follow on foot. I can walk around with impunity, but not you. Holley would recognize you instantly. Wait for me in Grosvenor Square somewhere by the American Embassy. I ll find you.

Kelly said, You re right, scrambled behind the wheel of the Citro n as the Frenchman got out, and drove away.

When Holley and Sara went up the steps from the subway and entered Hyde Park, they could hear the noise from Speakers Corner at once. They paused to listen.

Who is this Ali Selim? Sara asked.

British-born, three months ago he came back home from several years in Pakistan and started to agitate as the mullah at the Pond Street Mosque in Hackney. You were in Arizona for that period, so you wouldn t have heard of him. Would you like to go see what s happening?

Actually, I d like to meet Giles Roper for real. So far I ve only seen him on screen.

Well, let s see if we can find him.

He took her hand and they followed the path, the noise getting louder, until they reached Speakers Corner. The crowd was already large. Individual speakers worked from their stands to offer a wide range of topics, some from people who took their politics seriously, but there were also cranks of every persuasion. There were a number of police vehicles parked on the fringe, the officers a mixed bag of men and women in normal uniform, riot police in full gear in the background.

There s the van parked to the right of that police line. Holley pointed. That s Roper in his wheelchair talking to Claude Duval in the navy blue trench coat, and the black guy standing at the front of the vehicle is Sergeant Tony Doyle.

Roper saw them and waved, and they approached. We meet properly at last, Sara. Tony, you ve only met on screen, like me.

Doyle held out his hand. My pleasure, ma am.

Roper turned to the man in the trench coat. This is Claude Duval of the DGSE, who is not supposed to be here at all.

Duval took her hand and kissed it gallantly. Your behavior at Abusan was truly remarkable. It is an honor to meet you.

She said, I appreciate the compliment coming from a man like you, Colonel, but when you think about it, I didn t have much choice at Abusan. It was fight or die.

He turned to the others. Only a woman could be so practical.

This Ali Selim that Daniel has mentioned he s not here yet, I presume?

No, but he s what most people are waiting for, and he explains the police presence, Roper said. There are many young Muslims in the crowd, the sort of people he s been urging to fight the good fight for a new Muslim empire, and pointing out that it s their duty to break as many wicked Western laws as possible.

Holley said, To the Arab world, the British government is the villain of the piece here, for harassing a devout holy man.

What if that s exactly what he is? Sara said.

Claude Duval said, What he is, Sara, is Al Qaeda s most important mover and shaker in London. He s been responsible for recruiting scores of young British Muslims for training camps in Waziristan.

Roper said, The Prime Minister and the government have handled him with kid gloves so far, but yesterday he made a very unhelpful speech regarding the President s visit here on Friday. That can t be allowed.

If you examine the crowd carefully, Holley said to Sara, you ll notice a decidedly rough element.

Tony Doyle put in, So as soon as Selim starts preaching fire and brimstone, they ll begin throwing things, the Muslims will respond, and we ll have a riot situation because the police will have to contain it.

Looking like Fascist bullyboys to the Arab world, Roper said. Which is exactly what Ali Selim wants. There was an outcry just beyond the crowd. Unless I m very much mistaken, here he comes.

Henri Legrande had been standing as close as he dared to the van, hoping to hear something useful, and found himself among those who were not interested in getting involved in this unfolding drama but wanted to see what was going on. At the sound of Ali Selim s approach, pressure from behind caused a surge forward and scuffling broke out.

Henri, involved in the pushing and shoving, voiced his displeasure in bad language, French style. Claude Duval, close by in the melee, hearing him, called in French, What do you expect, they re English!

They were swept apart, and Henri lost himself in the crowd fast. He had not been close enough to hear the exchanges between Roper and the others, so he did not realize who Duval was, but there had been something about him, a face from the past perhaps.

The group of Muslims who forced their way through the crowd covered a wide age range. Some wore Western clothes, others wholly traditional, and there were those who wore a mixture of both. Ali Selim sat in a palanquin carried on the shoulders of six men. He wore a large white skullcap, his long black hair flecked with silver, as was his beard, and his face was fiercely intelligent. A young woman ran alongside, a hand on the palanquin. She was all in black, as if mourning, and wore a silk chador, a loose shirt, and leggings. She had big eyes and high cheekbones in an olive face.

As the group passed, Selim s eyes swept over Roper and his party, showing no interest, no emotion, as if they didn t exist, and two people plunged on into the crowd, joined up with others waiting beside a stand. The palanquin was lowered, disappearing from view, and a moment later Ali Selim was standing high above the crowd to a roar of acclaim and an equally loud chorus of jeers and shouts. His voice boomed through a loudspeaker.

I have a right to be here, to speak the truth. As a British citizen, I am affronted that the President of the United States can be welcomed here in the city of my birth without any consultation with those citizens who think as I do. He is a war criminal who deserves only execution as retribution for the thousands of innocents who have died in an unjust war. Praise be to he who becomes his executioner!

An egg hit him on the side of the face, and as he turned he was caught by another, and then some sort of ball struck him in the mouth, which immediately started to bleed. He disappeared quickly, and the crowd roared as fighting began.

The riot police surged past the van, their shields up, batons ready, and Roper said, That s it, folks. Heave me inside, Tony, and let s get out of here.

Holley helped, wheeling him onto the hydraulic lift, which had the chair inside in seconds. If anyone wants a lift, jump in, Roper said.

I ll walk, Duval said. I ve other things to do, but I ll be in touch.

You don t want to hang about here, Roper said to Holley and Sara. Maggie Hall does a lovely lunch at Holland Park.

You could try your new weapon on the firing range, Holley suggested.

Good idea, Sara said. We ll do that.