“What?”
“You told me he was Scottish.”
“He was. Is. So what?”
“I noticed Young’s Geordie accent was fading a little. He was probably out of the country too long. So how about McIntyre. Did he still sound like he was from north of the border?”
“Goodness, yes. You know what those accents are like. People never lose them. Not completely. But how is this relevant? If you know where Tony is, what does it matter what he sounded like to talk to?”
“You’re right. I’m just curious. Because I was talking to someone who’d spoken to McIntyre on the phone, and they thought he was English.”
“That’s no big deal. Most foreigners can’t tell the difference between English and Scottish, or even Welsh. Someone thought I was Australian the other day, for goodness’ sake.”
I nodded as if I was thinking about his answer, then shut my eyes for a moment and didn’t speak. I started to sway slightly, back and forth. Then I let myself flop forward, nosediving toward the surface of the co?ee table. It would have hurt, if I’d made contact. But I didn’t, because Fothergill had shot his left arm out to save me. I looked down at his hand. It was pressed against my chest. Palm out, as I’d expected. That only left me with one question, and even though I already knew the answer—or perhaps because I already knew the answer—I was reluctant to ask it.
“David,” he said. “My goodness, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Really. Thank you. And thanks for saving me from going face-first through your table. That really would have left some broken glass to sweep up.”
“Don’t mention it. My pleasure. But what happened to you? Are you feeling faint?”
“It’s nothing. Something came over me, but I’m OK now.”
“Maybe you should go back to your hotel. I told you not to push yourself.”
“No. We’ll carry on.”
“David, you’ve had a hell of a day. You’ve just saved thousands of people’s lives. It would be OK to have an early night. No one would think badly of you.”
“I don’t need to, honestly. Let’s wrap this thing up, and I’ll sleep late tomorrow. I promise.”
“It’s a deal. And I’ll make sure you stick to it. So. Shall we go and close Tony down now, once and for all?”
I waited another moment.
“One last thing, before we do,” I said. “What’s in the bag?”
He took his time to reply.
“That’s none of your business,” he said. “I can’t tell you, I’m afraid. The contents are classified. You’re not the only operative I look after, you know.”
“Richard, I need you to open the bag and show me what’s inside,” I said.
“Don’t be crazy. That’s never going to happen. Now drop it. Let’s go to work.”
“This is the last time I’m going to ask nicely. The bag. Open it. Please.”
Fothergill didn’t answer, and he didn’t move.
I reached inside my jacket and took out my phone.
“McIntyre texted me yesterday,” I said. “It seemed plausible, because this is actually Young’s phone. It was natural that McIntyre should know the number, right?”
Fothergill nodded.
“Only someone else knew the number, too,” I said. “You did. Because I’d called you from it.”
He didn’t respond.
“You knew the conclusion I’d reach when the texts came, because of the phone belonging to Young,” I said. “And just remind me—where were you at the time?”
“In here,” he said. “With you. I remember when they arrived.”
“No. You were out of the room. With the IT guys, allegedly. I wonder if you were really there, that day. I wonder if you were really there at all. I wonder how much they’d know about the Myenese guys’ laptop and hard drives, if I went and asked them.”
“They’d back me one hundred percent of the way.”
“There’s an easier way to find out the truth,” I said, holding up the phone. “Look. Here’s McIntyre’s number. The one the texts came from, yesterday. The one the guy from the Sears Tower was supposed to use today, after he’d killed me. Shall I call it now? I wonder if I’d hear ringing from anywhere close by?”
“No.”
“What’s in the bag, Richard?”
Fothergill didn’t answer.
“Let’s call him, then, after all,” I said. “We could put him on speakerphone and see how Scottish he sounds. Or whether he’s suddenly developed an English accent. Like yours.”
“David,” he said. “Drop this. Don’t call that number. Please.”
“Open the bag.”
He didn’t respond.
“Open the bag,” I said. “Open it now. My finger’s on the call button. You should save yourself the embarrassment.”
Fothergill looked me in the eye to see if I was serious, then leaned forward and clumsily unclipped the case’s two brass catches with his unbandaged left hand.
“All the way,” I said.
He pulled back the lid.
“Take it out,” I said.
He waited for a moment, then reached into the case with both hands and lifted out a green metal canister.
“Put it on the table,” I said.
“OK,” he said, setting it down between us. “There it is. What now?”
“We wait.”
Fothergill stared at the floor for a couple of minutes, then his gaze was drawn to the clock on the wall behind his desk. It was ten to eight. The second hand crawled inexorably around, and I noticed that the pulse in Fothergill’s neck was jumping twice for every move it made. I remember thinking that kind of heart rate couldn’t be healthy for a man of his age, and wondering if nature was going to do my work for me. But he survived fifteen complete revolutions, and then dragged his focus across to my face.
He held my gaze for thirty seconds before licking his lips and starting to speak again.
“There’ve been lots of questions, tonight,” he said. “But here’s the big one. This is all down to you, now. And I need to know. Are you going to call London? That’s the only thing left that matters.”
“That depends,” I said. “How many more canisters are there?”
“No more. You have them all. There were always only four.”
“There were four all along? Are you sure?”
“Certain. You nearly busted me when I left Gary, remember? When I’d said Tony had sold half the consignment, then found two more canisters? I should have only admitted to one.”
“Explain that.”
“Tony brought four canisters to Chicago with him. He gave them to me, along with the Myenese guys’ details. They wanted all four. I started out letting them have two. I was going to sell them the other two separately, for more money. I asked Tony to set up the meeting, but he caught on. We fought, and he got away with one canister.”
“The one you wanted me to retrieve?”
“Yes.”
“So you could sell it?”
“Yes.”
“And it was you who wanted McIntyre silenced?”
Fothergill looked at the floor and nodded, very slightly.
“What about the hard arrest?” I said. “That was a genuine order. I checked it myself.”
“It was,” he said. “But it was based on the information I provided. Let’s just say I adjusted certain details.”
“And the information you provided when you asked for a team, to back me up? And for a biochem expert? Did you adjust those, too?”
“Perhaps. A little. Couldn’t have too many cooks, you know.”
“What about the pair of canisters from Gary, in the packing cases? Did you really find them there?”
“Yes. They were the ones I originally sold. Half the consignment, like I let slip.”
“But you didn’t want to stay in Gary. You tried to talk me out of searching the place.”
“I know. I had no idea the canisters were there. Lucky you wouldn’t listen or I’d never have got my hands on them.”
“But McIntyre didn’t really take them back in the car crash?”
“No. I staged that to cover them disappearing.”