Adrian Magson - Deception

She was right, though. He’d thought about it many times since, and wondered what he’d have done if Clare hadn’t got there first. Paulton had already disappeared by the time they returned from Red Station in Georgia, getting out just ahead of the invading Russians. Turning in Bellingham to the authorities and relying on them to take appropriate action wouldn’t have been enough; the man had the connections if not to evade punishment altogether, certainly to avoid its more damaging extremes. In the end, he would have disappeared into a quiet retirement, countering the token establishment slap on the wrist by claiming that he had done it all for Queen and country.

‘How do you know about Jean? And my address?’ he added. The mystery caller Mrs Fletcher had seen. It had to have been her.

‘Same friends, how else? The intel community is the biggest gossip mill in the world, you know that. Bunch of floppy lips, most of them.’ She shrugged. ‘There are no secrets in our profession, Harry. I even know what you’re up to. The Protectory is for real, isn’t it? Who’d have thought. . a branch of the Samaritans for deserters and conchies.’

‘How did you know to warn Jean?’

‘I’d tried making contact at your place, but the resident dragon down the hall put me off, so I decided to think laterally and asked around.’

‘It’s hardly public knowledge.’

‘Oh, come on. . you know what I mean. Like I said, nothing’s totally secret, is it?’

‘You trawled Six’s files.’ It was the only way she could have known. . unless she had friends in Five, too.

She gave him a teasing smile but didn’t deny it. ‘It’s what they trained us to do, isn’t it — use whatever assets we have? She looks nice; just your type. Bit too elegant for my tastes, though.’

‘I’ll be sure to tell her.’ She was trying to annoy him. ‘How did you spot the two watchers?’

‘The two wannabes in the red van?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘God, they were too obvious. So obvious, in fact, that I scouted around and saw the others. They looked the real deal. Tough job you’ve got on, Harry. Is it your way of laying ghosts?’ Suddenly the humour was gone and she was searching his face for something, trying to read his expression. ‘Is that it?’

‘I’m doing what I can, Clare. It doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.’

‘Simple. I’ve got ghosts, too. And Paulton was part of setting up Red Station. Maybe I don’t forgive as easily as you, or maybe I’m just a bad-tempered, hormonal bitch. Call it what you like. I’m hoping you won’t get in my way, that’s all.’ She shuffled a little closer to him on the bench seat and smiled, a hint of perfume overlaying the metallic smell from the river. She tightened her hand on his thigh. It was a strange gesture of intimacy given their last meeting, which hadn’t been particularly warm, and the fact that she had no interest in men. Indeed, her reason for being banished from MI6 in the first place had been due to falling victim in a honey trap, where the intended target — a woman — had reversed the roles with career-damaging consequences for Clare.

Then she moved the newspaper to one side and looked down. Harry couldn’t help it; he did the same.

She was holding a powder compact, silvered and elegant and entirely ordinary. In fact it was very ordinary, an accessory nobody would look at twice, wouldn’t even give a passing thought to. Except that this one had an extra, sinister facility beyond the cosmetic: it housed a three-inch razor-sharp curved blade now protruding from the edge, retractable at the push of a button. And the blade was resting against Harry’s inner thigh.

‘You haven’t lost your taste for cold steel, I see.’ Harry tried to remain calm. He’d seen what Clare could do with this thing. If he tried anything she’d cut him before he could move an inch and be gone before he could raise the alarm.

‘Sorry, Harry. Try to call out or pull away and you know what I’ll do. You’ll bleed out before they can get you to hospital. . and I won’t hang around to help.’ She continued smiling but it stretched only as far as her mouth. ‘I really don’t want to do that, though.’

‘What do you want, then? I’m sure it’s not to go over old times.’

She licked her top lip. On any other woman at such close quarters, the gesture might have been almost erotic, a promise of things to come. On Clare it gave him the shivers because there was nothing in her eyes. Where there should have been shades of colour and sparkles of light, there were bottomless pools.

‘I want Paulton. Simple as that.’

Harry shook his head. ‘Paulton’s mine. You got your revenge with Bellingham.’

She lifted both eyebrows. ‘I see. Somebody handed out reserved tickets, did they? I don’t recall agreeing to that.’ The pressure on his leg increased steadily, and he braced himself. ‘I don’t think you understand, Harry. This isn’t open to negotiation. I just want to tell you that.’

‘Hey, look who it isn’t!’

A figure sat down alongside Clare, less than a foot away. She had been so intent on Harry, she hadn’t noticed his approach until it was too late.

It was Rik Ferris, wearing his sling and carrying a mug of coffee.

Clare turned and looked at him. But the pressure of the knife stayed on Harry’s leg, a measure of her self-control. She looked to her front again, momentarily surprised, then said calmly, ‘Fuck off, Ferris. This is a private chat between grown-ups.’

‘Yeah, I know. But it’s a bit difficult, see.’ Rik placed his mug on the bench alongside him and scratched his chest. He was wearing a leather jacket over one of his more colourful T-shirts. He slid his good hand inside the sling over his other arm, then smiled. Their shoulders were almost touching, and Clare must have sensed something, some unseen movement undetectable by anyone else. Or maybe it was expression in Rik’s eyes. She dropped her gaze and fastened on the inside of the sling itself.

‘Heckler and Koch nine millimetre,’ he told in a mock whisper. ‘Eighteen-round magazine; if I miss you with the first one — which I think is hugely fucking unlikely, to be perfectly honest, even for me — I’ll get you with the rest.’

‘My,’ she said in mock admiration, ‘you have grown up into a big, bad boy. I heard about what you did to that girl in St James’s Park.’ Her face hardened, taunting him. ‘Get off on shooting women, do you?’

‘Only the ones who piss me off.’

‘Then you should study your ballistics; you pull that trigger and a nine mil will go right through me and into Harry. . probably through him and the next person, too. So screw you, baby face.’

‘Fair point.’ Rik nodded without turning a hair. ‘Very fair. Only I did study ballistics and these rounds carry a reduced charge. They’re also loaded with soft noses, so you’ll cop the lot.’ His expression this time was every bit as cold as hers. He leaned closer, nudging her shoulder, and whispered, ‘Take the blade off Harry’s leg or I’ll fucking shoot you in the ribs, you stroppy cow. You know what that’ll do to your insides, don’t you? Then where’s your revenge got you?’

An age seemed to pass. Clare didn’t move, evaluating the likelihood that he might be bluffing. Her eyes were fixed on Rik’s face, seeking a hint of hesitation, of weakness. For Harry, waiting for the blade to turn and open his leg to the bone, it was too long. He batted her hand away and shifted sideways before she could move, leaving her marooned, with Rik too close for her to retaliate.

Along the path, a man in a smart suit was watching them, a mobile phone in one hand. He’d probably picked up on their body language, seeing a woman bracketed by two men and misinterpreting the situation. Harry almost wanted to explain who, if anyone, was in real danger here, but he doubted the man would believe him. If this carried on any longer, it was in danger of going public.