Stella Rimington: Rip Tide

‘Who?’

‘Tahira.’

‘She’s not close to Abdi Bakri and the mosque.’

‘No, but she is close to Malik. And he’s close to Abdi Bakri. And Malik keeps popping up in all this – he helped attack me near the mosque; he knew Boatman, and seemed to become suspicious of him; he may have had a hand in the “accident” on the bus. Plus he knew Amir Khan, apparently quite well.’

‘And he’s still in Birmingham.’

‘Exactly. Remember, he boasted to Tahira that he was going on an important mission to Pakistan, but then he didn’t go. Why not? He gave her no explanation. He just said the plans had changed. What plans? And why was he kept behind when the others went? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘Unless…’

Liz was nodding. ‘Unless he’s got a mission here, in the UK.’

‘Tahira is due to see him again tomorrow.’

‘I know, and that worries me. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if he knew she was working for us.’ Liz remembered the strength in his arm when he’d grabbed her.

‘But maybe she’ll be able to tell us something after their meeting.’

‘Perhaps. But I don’t think we can risk waiting till tomorrow.’ She paused, making up her mind. ‘I want Malik placed under surveillance as soon as possible – within the hour if they can do it. We need to know where he is every minute of this weekend – even if he isn’t involved. Will you set it up with Lamb Lincoln in Birmingham and get them to patch real-time reports through to A4 Control here? I’m going to alert Fontana and tell him what we’ve learned. I’ll see if he’s got any idea of what might be happening. I don’t want any crossed wires; I’ll warn him we may need armed support if anything unravels. Then I’m going to ring DG. I’ll meet you in A4 control in an hour or so, when we’ve done all that.’

Two hours later lights were burning on several floors of Thames House. Peggy was at her desk, receiving reports from the monitoring of various telephones that Malik was known to use; the Techs were on alert for any email traffic. In the A4 control room Liz was sitting on the battered leather sofa reserved for case officers, listening as Wally Woods, the Thames House controller for the evening, liased with Lamb Lincoln in Birmingham. Reports were coming in from A4 teams as they searched for Malik in all his known haunts, but so far there had been no sign of him. He had not been spotted in the crowd coming out of the mosque, a disguised call to his parents’ house had elicited the information that he was out, he was not at the café, and A4 was running out of ideas of where to look as the evening drew on. Lamb was asking how long they should go on looking as he was beginning to fear they might be getting exposed.

Liz took a deep breath. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in going on with this tonight. Stand them down. We know he’s meeting Tahira in the morning, so let’s put the teams on to her first thing. She’ll be at her parents’ house. They can follow her to the meeting and then take on Malik as he leaves. We’ll need real-time reports. I’m going up to Birmingham. Tell Lamb that I’ll see him early on.’

Leaving further instructions that if the Techs or the monitors got anything of interest she was to be told right away, Liz went back to her flat for what by now would be a short night’s sleep.

The alarm went off at 4.30 and Liz got up immediately. She had only been in bed for four hours and felt as though she’d been awake for every minute. She knew she hadn’t, because she could remember dreams where Amir Khan, Malik and Tahira whirled together in a meaningless but alarming ballet in her subconscious.

By 5 she was on the North Circular Road, heading for the A40. This early on a Saturday morning, even the notorious Hanger Lane gyratory was clear, and once on the A40 she made steady progress past the old Hoover building and Northolt airfield towards the motorway. Over the M40, the sun slowly rose into a cloudless morning sky, and was soon filling the fields of Oxfordshire with golden light.

At 6 she pulled over at a lay-by and rang Peggy, who would have spent the night in one of the small bedrooms at the top of Thames House, ready for any new development. She would be awake by now and at her desk.

Peggy said, ‘Nothing’s happened. The monitors and the Techs say it’s been quiet all night. A4 in Birmingham are checking out Malik’s place, but there’s been no movement so far. They’re ready for Tahira when she leaves home. I spoke to DG on the phone last night. He’s got a call booked to the Home Secretary at ten and I’ve told Private Office I’ll bring them up to date just before then. A4 up there say they’re looking forward to seeing you.’

Thank God for Peggy, thought Liz. She was a real rock in troubled seas.

In the Birmingham suburbs, the first signs of life were appearing; some of the small mini-markets were open and cafés were serving breakfast to stall holders setting up a street market. It was 7.30 when Liz turned into the old Odeon cinema building and tapped in the code to open the tall iron gates that let her into the car park at the back.

Inside, the A4 Ops room was a low-ceilinged windowless space at the top of the renovated cinema. One wall was covered with screens, mostly dark at present, but when the operation got underway they’d be taking real-time feed from cameras in the area and from some of the A4 cars.

As she went into the gloomy room, Liz saw DI Fontana sitting on a large leather sofa. A4 must have a secret source of battered furniture, since these brown sofas, placed for case officers to sit on when an operation was in progress, always appeared as if by magic.

Lamb Lincoln at the control console waved to Liz as she walked into the room. Handing over to his deputy, a morose-looking man called Faraday, he walked across to brief her.

‘Good morning,’ he said cheerfully. ‘All’s quiet on the Western Front here; so far anyway. There’s activity in the park, setting up the concert – it starts at twelve. Tahira’s at home as far as we know, but still no sign of Malik. I don’t suppose she’s going into the shop before she meets him?’

Liz shook her head. ‘From what she said, I don’t think so.’

‘Then she won’t be leaving home for a bit. But anyway the teams are all ready, on her house and the café, so we’re OK whatever she does. We’ll be working with two police teams when Malik appears, in case there’s any need for an arrest. ‘

Liz nodded her thanks to Lamb and looked at Fontana.

‘This pop concert’s taking a lot of police resources,’ he said. ‘They’ve put twenty-five crowd-control and drugs officers in the park and just outside it. In addition to the two surveillance teams out with your guys, we’ve got an armed team standing by and ready to go.’

‘OK, thanks. There’s not much more we can do till Tahira appears.’ Liz walked across to the table at the end of the room where a jug of coffee was standing on a warmer beside a plate of Danish pastries. Yet another unhealthy breakfast, she thought to herself, as she selected a large cinnamon bun.

‘You keep an eye on that little monkey Nazir,’ warned Tahira’s father. ‘He daydreams, that boy. Anyone could steal us blind when he’s behind the till.’

‘Don’t worry, Papa. I always watch him very carefully.’

Tahira closed the front door behind her, then walked quickly down the road. If her father was standing in the sitting-room window to watch her go, he’d see that she was heading for the shop. It wasn’t until she knew she was out of his sight that she turned up a side street, cutting across the hill towards the café where she’d agreed to meet Malik.