“They could both have been in custody by now,” Eastman said, shaking his head angrily to himself.
“There was nothing the officers could do. They had to let them go.”
“I’m not blaming them, sir,” Eastman was quick to point out. “On the contrary. If it hadn’t been for their vigilance, we wouldn’t have known they were back in the country. What about Kerrigan though? No sign of him?”
“None at all. There were only the two of them.”
“He’s probably lying low somewhere, given how distinctive he is in public.”
“But what worries me is why they’re here in London. Surely they’d want to get back to Ireland as soon as possible? They’d be much safer over there.”
“Unless they’re planning another operation here in London?”
“That seemed the most likely explanation to me as well.”
“Scoby?” Eastman said warily.
“It can’t be ruled out, Keith,” Palmer replied. “Well, you’d better leave now if you want to get to the hotel for six. You know what London traffic’s like at this time of the afternoon.” Palmer watched Eastman cross to the door. “Oh, and Keith? Keep me informed.”
“I will, sir,” Eastman replied as he left the room.
“Can we talk?”
Whitlock nodded and gestured for Graham to enter the room.
“I thought it best if I came by before the others got here,” Graham said. “I owe you an apology for my outburst earlier this afternoon. I was out of order.”
“You spoke your mind, Mike, and that’s something I’ve always liked about you.” Whitlock closed the door. “It’s often the best way. And what you said made a lot of sense once I’d sat down and thought about it.”
“I was still out of order.”
“Apology accepted, if that will make you feel any better,” Whitlock said. “I’ll talk to Sergei and the Secretary-General when I get back to New York. See what they have to say. That’s the easy part. Then I’ll have to sit down with Carmen and tell her how I feel about the situation. I can’t say I’m really looking forward to that.”
“It’s best to clear the air.”
“Best for who though?” Whitlock replied then indicated the kettle on the dresser. “Tea?”
Graham smiled. “I think I’ll stick to creosote, thanks.”
“Coming up,” Whitlock replied, switching on the kettle.
There was a knock at the door and Whitlock answered it to admit Sabrina. Minutes later Eastman arrived and he briefed them about the incident near Euston Station that afternoon.
“So you agree with us now, do you?” Graham said, looking across at Eastman. “You think there will be an attempt on Scoby’s life after all?”
“Nothing would surprise me after the events of the last twenty-four hours,” Eastman replied.
“But where will they try and hit him?” Whitlock asked. “We’ve seen the senator’s itinerary. It’s not exactly a low-profile visit, is it?”
“He’ll be at his most vulnerable when he’s with the mayor on board the pleasure boat tomorrow afternoon,” Graham replied. “I don’t care how tight the security measures will be around the Thames, a good assassin could still take him out.”
“Agreed,” Whitlock said.
“Any chance of cordoning off the boat’s intended route tomorrow afternoon?”
“I suggested that to Senator Scoby last night,” Whitlock replied. “But he wouldn’t have any of it. He’s determined to go ahead with the itinerary as planned.”
“So is the mayor,” Eastman added. “He gave Commander Palmer the usual predictable speech about not giving in to threats of terrorism. We’re just going to have to cope as best we can.”
“And have our letters of resignation ready if the IRA do breach our security measures,” Sabrina said.
The telephone rang. Whitlock spoke briefly to the caller. “That was Fabio. They’ve just got into Heathrow. He thinks they should reach the hotel within the hour.”
Eastman finished his tea. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to the Yard. I’m due to give a briefing to my men at eight.”
“Will you be coming back here later?” Whitlock asked.
“That all depends on how long the briefing goes on for. I’ll call you later and let you know what’s happening. If not, I’ll meet Scoby in the morning. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”
“You can meet Scoby anytime. I was thinking more of the briefing we’ll be holding after we’ve had a chance to talk to him. But if you can’t make it, no matter. I’ll call you and brief you on the phone.”
“I’ll do my best to get back. But I can’t make any promises.”
“I understand,” Whitlock replied as he walked Eastman to the door.
“I’m starving,” Sabrina announced after Eastman had gone. “I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast. I think I’ll grab a bite before Scoby gets here.”
“And I’ll call Sergei to let him know what’s happening,” Whitlock said. “Then I can start on the backlog of paperwork I’ve brought with me.”
“Have you eaten yet?” Sabrina asked Graham.
“I guess I could force myself to eat something,” Graham replied, following her to the door.
“Don’t do me any favors,” she replied, looking around at him.
“Get out, both of you,” Whitlock chided good-humoredly. “I’ll let you know when the senator gets here. Bon appétit.”
“It’s a pleasure finally to meet you,” Scoby announced, taking Sabrina’s hand in a gentle but firm handshake. “Mr. Whitlock told me last night that you were to be a part of my security team, but it wasn’t until I read your dossier on the plane that I realized you were George Carver’s daughter. He’s still talked about on Capitol Hill to this day. It’s a pity he was on the wrong side.”
“That all depends on whose side you’re on,” Sabrina replied.
Scoby smiled politely. “So what is your father doing now? The last I heard he’d been appointed chairman of Sellers Marketing in Miami.”
“He retired two years ago. My parents still live in Miami. In Coral Gables.”
“Ah yes, a beautiful part of the city. It must be a good fifteen years now since your father was appointed American ambassador to Britain. I was still a student at Harvard in those days.”
“Actually, it was eighteen years ago,” Sabrina corrected him.
“Really, is it that long ago? And he was here for eight years, I believe. That’s a good innings by any standards.”
“He was a good ambassador,” Sabrina replied quickly.
“I’m sure he was,” Scoby replied without much conviction. He shook Graham’s hand. “Good to have you aboard.”
“Thank you,” Graham replied, tight-lipped.
“Isn’t it strange that you should both have such prominent politicians in your family?” Scoby said. “Your father-in-law was Senator Howard Walsh. ‘Hawk’ Walsh. A fine man.”
“As Sabrina said, that all depends on whose side you’re on,” Graham replied.
“I take it you don’t share the senator’s political views?”
“I don’t share anything with Senator Walsh anymore,” Graham said bitterly. “He’s a narrow-minded, right-wing bigot who should have been dumped by the Republicans years ago.”
Scoby’s smile faltered. “Somehow, I never took you for a liberal.”
Whitlock put a hand lightly on Graham’s arm before he could reply. Tillman noticed the gesture and was quick to catch Scoby’s eye. “The Ambassador and his wife are due here for drinks in half an hour. You said you wanted to change before they arrived.”
“Ray will stay behind and sort out the security arrangements with you,” Scoby said to Whitlock. “And if you should need me for anything, you know where to find me.”