Assassin

64

As soon as Bill Selsey got to work and realized that Grantham had scurried off to Oslo, he knew that it was time to make his move. The head of SIS, Sir Mostyn Green, had been chosen more for his willingness to tell the Prime Minister precisely what he wanted to hear than any great gift for intelligence. Selsey had been among those appalled by the way Green had been parachuted into Vauxhall Cross over the heads of men and women far better qualified for his position. Now, though, he was delighted that his boss was a political crawler, who dreaded public embarrassment above all else.

Selsey put himself through to Green's gatekeeper, a junior toadie built in his master's image.

'Morning, Jason, can you squeeze me in with Sir Mostyn for a few minutes, soon as poss? Something's come up.'

'I'm afraid he's tied up all morning. He's got the Foreign Secretary at eleven, and then they're both attending a JIC meeting. Is it urgent?'

'Well, it's an internal matter. Pretty delicate, actually,' Selsey replied in the confidential tone of a man about to pass on a particularly juicy piece of gossip. He had always known, as a matter of principle, that knowledge was power. Now he understood that power first hand.

'It's Grantham,' Selsey went on. 'He flew to Oslo this morning. He's gone to meet a chap called Samuel Carver.'

It took a second for the penny to drop.

'What, the one who's wanted for that hotel bombing?'

'Precisely.'

'But why would Grantham…? Oh Lord, are you suggesting that the Service might be exposed to some kind of embarrassment?'

'Exactly, that's what's causing me concern. I can't go into details now, but Jack and Carver go back a while. They've got form. That's why I need to see Sir Mostyn.'

'In that case, I'll see what I can do.'

'Thanks, Jason. Knew you'd understand.'