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Book: Be Careful What You Wish For: The Clifton Chronicles 4 by Jeffrey Archer
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Authors: Jeffrey Archer
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After all, like the five-pound note, it had his
signature on it.
8
T HE THREE OF THEM left 44 Eaton Square at different times during the morning, but they all ended up at the same destination.
Luis was the first to appear. He walked to Sloane Square underground station and boarded a Circle line train to Hammersmith, where he crossed platforms to the Piccadilly line. Corporal Crann was
never far behind.
Diego took a cab to Victoria coach station, and climbed on board a bus for the airport; a moment later he was joined by his shadow.
Luis made it easy for Captain Hartley to follow his every move, but then, he was doing no more than his father had ordered. At Hounslow West he exited the underground and took a taxi to London
Airport, where he checked the departures board to confirm that his flight would be leaving in just over an hour. He purchased the latest copy of
Playboy
from W.H. Smith and, as he had no
bag to check in, made his way slowly towards gate 5.
Diego’s bus dropped him outside the terminal a few minutes before ten. He also checked the departure board, to find that his flight to Madrid had been delayed by forty minutes. It was of
no consequence. He strolled across to Forte’s Grill, bought a coffee and a ham sandwich, and took a seat near the entrance so that no one could miss him.
Karl opened the front door of number 44 a few minutes after Luis’s flight had taken off for Nice. He headed in the direction of Sloane Street, carrying a Harrods bag that was already full.
He paused to window-shop on the way, not to admire the goods on display, but to look at the reflections in the glass; an old ruse to check if you’re being followed. He was, by the same
shabbily dressed little man who’d been shadowing him for the past month. By the time he reached Harrods, he was well aware that his pursuer was only a few strides behind him.
A doorman in a long green overcoat and wearing a top hat opened the door for Karl and saluted. He took pride in recognizing his regular customers.
The moment Karl stepped inside the store he began to walk quickly through haberdashery, speeding up as he passed leather goods, and he was almost running by the time he reached the bank of six
lifts. Only one of them had its gate open. It was already packed, but he squeezed in. His shadow almost caught up with him, but the lift attendant pulled the grille shut before he could jump in.
The pursued couldn’t resist smiling at the pursuer as the lift disappeared out of sight.
Karl didn’t get out until the lift reached the top floor. He then walked quickly through electrical goods, furniture, the bookshop and the art gallery, before reaching the rarely used
stone staircase at the north end of the store. He took the steps in twos, and only stopped running once he was back at the ground floor. He then cut through menswear, perfume, pens and stationery
until he reached a side door that led out on to Hans Road. Once he was on the pavement, he hailed the first available cab, climbed in and crouched down, out of sight.
‘London Airport,’ he said.
He waited until the cab had passed through two sets of traffic lights before he risked glancing out of the back window. No sign of his pursuer, unless Sergeant Roberts was on a bicycle or
driving a London bus.
Karl had visited Harrods every morning during the past fortnight, going straight to the food hall on the ground floor and purchasing a few items before returning to Eaton Square. But not today.
Although he had shaken off the SAS man this time, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the Harrods stunt a second time. And as he might have to travel to today’s destination
fairly often, it wasn’t going to be difficult for them to work out where he was heading, so in future they would be waiting for him as he got off the plane.
When the taxi dropped him off outside the Europa terminal, Karl didn’t buy a copy of
Playboy
or have a coffee, he just headed straight for gate
signature on it.
8
T HE THREE OF THEM left 44 Eaton Square at different times during the morning, but they all ended up at the same destination.
Luis was the first to appear. He walked to Sloane Square underground station and boarded a Circle line train to Hammersmith, where he crossed platforms to the Piccadilly line. Corporal Crann was
never far behind.
Diego took a cab to Victoria coach station, and climbed on board a bus for the airport; a moment later he was joined by his shadow.
Luis made it easy for Captain Hartley to follow his every move, but then, he was doing no more than his father had ordered. At Hounslow West he exited the underground and took a taxi to London
Airport, where he checked the departures board to confirm that his flight would be leaving in just over an hour. He purchased the latest copy of
Playboy
from W.H. Smith and, as he had no
bag to check in, made his way slowly towards gate 5.
Diego’s bus dropped him outside the terminal a few minutes before ten. He also checked the departure board, to find that his flight to Madrid had been delayed by forty minutes. It was of
no consequence. He strolled across to Forte’s Grill, bought a coffee and a ham sandwich, and took a seat near the entrance so that no one could miss him.
Karl opened the front door of number 44 a few minutes after Luis’s flight had taken off for Nice. He headed in the direction of Sloane Street, carrying a Harrods bag that was already full.
He paused to window-shop on the way, not to admire the goods on display, but to look at the reflections in the glass; an old ruse to check if you’re being followed. He was, by the same
shabbily dressed little man who’d been shadowing him for the past month. By the time he reached Harrods, he was well aware that his pursuer was only a few strides behind him.
A doorman in a long green overcoat and wearing a top hat opened the door for Karl and saluted. He took pride in recognizing his regular customers.
The moment Karl stepped inside the store he began to walk quickly through haberdashery, speeding up as he passed leather goods, and he was almost running by the time he reached the bank of six
lifts. Only one of them had its gate open. It was already packed, but he squeezed in. His shadow almost caught up with him, but the lift attendant pulled the grille shut before he could jump in.
The pursued couldn’t resist smiling at the pursuer as the lift disappeared out of sight.
Karl didn’t get out until the lift reached the top floor. He then walked quickly through electrical goods, furniture, the bookshop and the art gallery, before reaching the rarely used
stone staircase at the north end of the store. He took the steps in twos, and only stopped running once he was back at the ground floor. He then cut through menswear, perfume, pens and stationery
until he reached a side door that led out on to Hans Road. Once he was on the pavement, he hailed the first available cab, climbed in and crouched down, out of sight.
‘London Airport,’ he said.
He waited until the cab had passed through two sets of traffic lights before he risked glancing out of the back window. No sign of his pursuer, unless Sergeant Roberts was on a bicycle or
driving a London bus.
Karl had visited Harrods every morning during the past fortnight, going straight to the food hall on the ground floor and purchasing a few items before returning to Eaton Square. But not today.
Although he had shaken off the SAS man this time, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the Harrods stunt a second time. And as he might have to travel to today’s destination
fairly often, it wasn’t going to be difficult for them to work out where he was heading, so in future they would be waiting for him as he got off the plane.
When the taxi dropped him off outside the Europa terminal, Karl didn’t buy a copy of
Playboy
or have a coffee, he just headed straight for gate
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