Gallery Whispers

56

'My God, Bob, you'd think there was a war on.' Sir James Proud looked around the headquarters gymnasium. Where normally there was a clear area, three rows of desks were arranged, each with its own telephone line.

'I'd rather there was,' Skinner muttered. 'Much less complicated.

It's been like this since last Wednesday. I thought you should see it on your first day back.

'It's Andy's show. He decided that it would be best run under one roof, and he's right. Until you get down to doing it, you couldn't imagine how complicated this exercise could be.

'We're having to make contact with bodyguards of all sorts from the thirty-plus countries that are going to be attending. For a start, that's run us into a significant sum for translators; that's why there are so many desks in here.'

The Chief Constable frowned. 'Not off our budget, I hope.'

'No, no. I've got that sorted. The Foreign Office will pick up that tab. They've actually supplied some of the people.

'Translation's only a minor problem by comparison though. We're having to gather in personal details for every protection officer nominated by every country. As we're doing that they all have to be vetted through the intelligence agencies.'

'Aren't their domestic vetting procedures sufficient?' asked Proud Jimmy, looking trim and neat in his uniform, which for the first time in many months, fitted him comfortably.

'Not for the American Secret Service. I thought the FBI were sticklers until I ran into these boys. I had a word with my pal Joe Doherty in Washington about them. He says they make their recommendations direct to the Chairman of the National Security Council, and he turns them directly into commands.'

'Who's the Chairman of the NSC?'

'The President, and it's his arse that's on the line; so he isn't usually open to persuasion when someone outside the Service thinks they're going too far. Their argument in this case is that since a number of the nations taking part in the conference are openly hostile to the US, it's not without the bounds of possibility that a fanatic might infiltrate one of the delegations. That's why they started this ball rolling by insisting on carrying their own weapons. They've vetoed one bloke from Pakistan already: they claimed he had links to the Taleban.'

'How long is all this going to take?'

'Almost until the opening of the conference at this rate, sir,' Andy Martin answered. 'Welcome back,' he said, shaking hands with Sir James.

'Thank you, Andrew,' said the Chief. 'I don't suppose that while all this is happening, the local criminals are showing consideration by taking time off.'

'Things have been quiet, actually. That probably means that they're all out casing the various hotels. That's another security problem; one for Mr Elder, fortunately.

'But you're right, sir. I do have to keep a foot in both camps. In fact, I've just been given a note to phone Clan Pringle about something, so if you'll excuse me…'

'Of course, of course. On you go.' Proud turned back to Skinner as the chief superintendent headed off.

'My goodness. Bob,' he said. 'Looking at this makes me sort of glad I'm going home at lunchtime.'