don’t really know why he’s done it. I’m just looking at a pile of evidence that says he has.’
‘Well, how did we get dragged into this anyway?’
‘A private call from Dubai,’ said Selsey, pleased that he could now stick to something that had a grain of truth. ‘The authorities there already know that Dey’s killer is British. They think it would be good for the continued friendship between our two peoples if we helped identify him.’
‘Forget it. We’re not going to do their bloody plod-work for them. If they arrest a suspect and he happens to be British, it’s a straightforward Foreign Office matter, nothing to do with us.’
‘Unless he actually is Carver,’ mused Selsey, delighted that Grantham had given him an opening. ‘We wouldn’t necessarily want him falling into anyone else’s hands, would we? Not with what he knows.’
‘No, we bloody wouldn’t …’ Grantham muttered. He had made deals with Carver, deals that would be very embarrassing indeed were they ever to be made public. It wouldn’t be good for a senior MI6 officer to be exposed as a close associate of a paid killer. He shook his head. ‘I still can’t work out what’s really happening here. I mean, what if someone’s framing Carver, using him as camouflage to hide what they’re up to?’
‘Seems a bit elaborate,’ said Selsey, trying to sound a lot more relaxed about the speed of Grantham’s thought processes than he actually felt.
‘Maybe, but even so, I’m not entirely sure about this.’
‘Still, there’s no harm in looking a bit deeper, eh? We might as well find out what’s going on, just to keep our own back well covered.’
‘That’s always worth doing,’ Grantham agreed. ‘All right, Bill, dig around. Tell me what you find. And don’t tell anyone else.’
‘Of course not,’ said Selsey. ‘You can count on me.’
15
Harrison James put the phone down on a furious senior senator from Florida, having just informed him of the cancellation of a planned presidential trip to Miami. Officially the President had been going to visit the National Hurricane Center and lunch with local business leaders; unofficially he was repaying the senator for his endorsement early in the primary season. James had given the senator a vague explanation of the President’s change of plans, saying that he’d be making an overseas trip with significant national security implications that made his destination confidential for the time being.
When the pork-barrelling old bastard asked, ‘Are we talking Afghanistan, here, Hal?’ he’d replied, ‘Well, I can’t comment on that, Javier. But I’ll tell you this, the President has dynamic, far-reaching plans for the projection of US power around the world. If you can help make those plans a reality, he will not forget your sacrifice.’
Christ, the shit you had to talk just to smooth old men’s egos, James thought, putting down the phone. Seconds later, the red light was flashing again.
‘It’s the British ambassador,’ James’s personal assistant informed him. ‘He wants to talk about the Prime Minister’s role in the President’s visit.’
‘I’ll bet he does,’ muttered James, then forced a smile into his voice as he said, ‘Sir Michael, good to hear from you. What can I do?’
‘Morning, Hal, it’s just this whole Bristol business. The PM’s delighted the President is coming to see us, naturally. Can’t wait. And, of course, bearing in mind Britain’s historic role in the abolition of slavery, he’s absolutely supportive of any effort to stamp out this vile business today. He’s just concerned that our presence is acknowledged, as it were.’
‘You mean he doesn’t want to be totally upstaged in his own back yard.’
‘Absolutely, Hal, I knew you’d understand. And if you need a royal or two to greet the President off the plane, or host a spot of lunch, you only have to ask.’
‘That’s great, Sir Michael,’ said James, wondering
‘Well, how did we get dragged into this anyway?’
‘A private call from Dubai,’ said Selsey, pleased that he could now stick to something that had a grain of truth. ‘The authorities there already know that Dey’s killer is British. They think it would be good for the continued friendship between our two peoples if we helped identify him.’
‘Forget it. We’re not going to do their bloody plod-work for them. If they arrest a suspect and he happens to be British, it’s a straightforward Foreign Office matter, nothing to do with us.’
‘Unless he actually is Carver,’ mused Selsey, delighted that Grantham had given him an opening. ‘We wouldn’t necessarily want him falling into anyone else’s hands, would we? Not with what he knows.’
‘No, we bloody wouldn’t …’ Grantham muttered. He had made deals with Carver, deals that would be very embarrassing indeed were they ever to be made public. It wouldn’t be good for a senior MI6 officer to be exposed as a close associate of a paid killer. He shook his head. ‘I still can’t work out what’s really happening here. I mean, what if someone’s framing Carver, using him as camouflage to hide what they’re up to?’
‘Seems a bit elaborate,’ said Selsey, trying to sound a lot more relaxed about the speed of Grantham’s thought processes than he actually felt.
‘Maybe, but even so, I’m not entirely sure about this.’
‘Still, there’s no harm in looking a bit deeper, eh? We might as well find out what’s going on, just to keep our own back well covered.’
‘That’s always worth doing,’ Grantham agreed. ‘All right, Bill, dig around. Tell me what you find. And don’t tell anyone else.’
‘Of course not,’ said Selsey. ‘You can count on me.’
15
Harrison James put the phone down on a furious senior senator from Florida, having just informed him of the cancellation of a planned presidential trip to Miami. Officially the President had been going to visit the National Hurricane Center and lunch with local business leaders; unofficially he was repaying the senator for his endorsement early in the primary season. James had given the senator a vague explanation of the President’s change of plans, saying that he’d be making an overseas trip with significant national security implications that made his destination confidential for the time being.
When the pork-barrelling old bastard asked, ‘Are we talking Afghanistan, here, Hal?’ he’d replied, ‘Well, I can’t comment on that, Javier. But I’ll tell you this, the President has dynamic, far-reaching plans for the projection of US power around the world. If you can help make those plans a reality, he will not forget your sacrifice.’
Christ, the shit you had to talk just to smooth old men’s egos, James thought, putting down the phone. Seconds later, the red light was flashing again.
‘It’s the British ambassador,’ James’s personal assistant informed him. ‘He wants to talk about the Prime Minister’s role in the President’s visit.’
‘I’ll bet he does,’ muttered James, then forced a smile into his voice as he said, ‘Sir Michael, good to hear from you. What can I do?’
‘Morning, Hal, it’s just this whole Bristol business. The PM’s delighted the President is coming to see us, naturally. Can’t wait. And, of course, bearing in mind Britain’s historic role in the abolition of slavery, he’s absolutely supportive of any effort to stamp out this vile business today. He’s just concerned that our presence is acknowledged, as it were.’
‘You mean he doesn’t want to be totally upstaged in his own back yard.’
‘Absolutely, Hal, I knew you’d understand. And if you need a royal or two to greet the President off the plane, or host a spot of lunch, you only have to ask.’
‘That’s great, Sir Michael,’ said James, wondering
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