‘What will you do to this person?’
‘Like I said, don’t ask. That way, what you don’t know can’t come back and bite you on the arse.’ He gave a huff of impatience and his voice dropped as a door opened along the alleyway and a bag of rubbish was dropped outside. ‘Remember what I know about you, Keith. Five years ago you sold confidential weapons files to a French intelligence officer for hard cash.’
Maine flinched. ‘I was tricked. I thought he was a journalist.’ It was a claim he’d always made, but right now it sounded even more hollow than ever.
‘Really? Was that what he told you? Boy, you were dumb. What was it he paid you — twenty-five grand? That must have bought you some nice little first editions.’ He applied more pressure until Maine cried out in pain. ‘Do you recall what happened to him, Keith?’
Pain etched Maine’s face. ‘No. I don’t. Why should I?’
‘He fell under a train in Norwood Junction. He should have stood back from the edge like they always tell you.’
Maine looked horrified. ‘I didn’t know!’
‘Nor should you. That was my job, cleaning up the mess left by people like you. But you didn’t suffer, did you, Keith? Nobody found you out; there were no heavy knocks on your door at the dead of night. It stayed strictly between you and me, remember? Well, that was the favour; now it’s time to return it.’
Maine was breathing heavily, his face ashen as the grim reality of what he’d done began to open up before him. The past few years since the Frenchman had disappeared had gradually absorbed the enormity of what he’d done. And the money had certainly helped. Now it was as if he’d been telescoped back to that time, with all the threat that had entailed. ‘And if I don’t?’
‘Well, let’s put it this way, Keith, I don’t think your masters will like it, will they? They usually throw people in prison for what you did. It’s called selling secrets, you know. Some might call it treason. . some of the old Eurosceptic die-hards, especially. They’d probably want to pull out your fingernails with pliers.’
Maine looked alarmed. ‘You wouldn’t!’
‘Actually, I would. Just one phone call.’ He snapped his fingers, making Maine jump.
‘But you’d be implicating yourself. I’d tell them everything — about how you tricked me and forced me to help you escape after that Georgian fiasco with Bellingham.’
Paulton released his arm. It was a recognition that he was winning. Had already won. ‘You really think that would help?’ He waved a hand around them at the alleyway. ‘What are they going to do — make my life more difficult than it is? They don’t even know I’m in the country. I’d be gone before you finished dialling.’ He smiled easily, eyes ice-cold. ‘More to the point, you’d be dead before the week was out.’
Maine’s face lost all colour as he recognised the truth in what Paulton was saying. He’d heard and knew enough about the man’s history to know that he would stop at nothing to get a job done. His reason for leaving MI5 was proof enough of that. And silencing someone who crossed him would be no more difficult than choosing a new shirt.
He breathed deeply, rubbing his forearm, then said, ‘Very well. What’s his name?’
‘She. A former intelligence officer, dismissed for misconduct, so no need to feel sorry for her. I want everything you have on her: addresses, family, photos, contacts, girlfriends.’
Maine looked puzzled. ‘Girls?’
‘Yes. Our Clare preferred the ladies. One of the reasons Six decided to dispense with her services. An outdated view of the world, but what can you expect of those dinosaurs?’
Maine shook his head. ‘But MI6? I can’t do that!’
Paulton’s hand shot out and gripped Maine’s arm once more. The pain was intense. ‘Don’t tell me you can’t, Keith. Can’t doesn’t cut it. And don’t try kidding me you failed, because I have a second source of information — and I will check.’
Maine tried to shake loose, but couldn’t. Paulton’s grip was too powerful. ‘You’re asking too much!’ he protested, a whine edging his voice. ‘They’ve put new systems in place ever since you. . since you left. Anyone trying to access certain files across the intel community triggers an alert. It’s too tight.’
‘Then you had better find a way round it, hadn’t you? You know what the alternative is.’ He took a pen from his pocket and yanked back the sleeve of Maine’s jacket. ‘Send everything you’ve got to this number.’ He scribbled on the man’s arm then let go, stepping back as a young woman carrying a bulging sports bag hurried by. ‘Do as I ask and you can carry on with your masters in blissful ignorance until you collect your pension. Refuse and you can wait for them to come for you. It’s as simple as that. Your choice.’ He turned away.
‘Wait.’ Maine’s voice was a whisper. He looked like a man facing death. ‘Wait. I’ll do it.’
Paulton turned his head, a sly smile of triumph on his face.
‘By close of business today? Especially a photo.’
‘What? No. . I can’t.’ Then he saw the look on Paulton’s face. He nodded. ‘Very well. What’s the name?’
‘Jardine. Clare Jardine.’
FIFTEEN
Harry was walking back to his car when his phone rang. It was Ballatyne.
‘I’ve a possible sighting of Jardine. A female figure walking down Caldicot Road away from the hospital, timed at oh-two-thirty three. She was heading towards Coldharbour Lane, Harry. The imagery isn’t great, taken from a CCTV camera at the far end of a car park, but it’s all I could get so far.’
Harry felt a jolt of something approaching excitement. If it was Clare, it gave him a start point. Instead of having to cover the 360-degree field around the hospital, gradually widening the scope of the search and adding an impossible area of streets, road and buildings, they now had a single direction to focus on.
‘What about inside?’
‘So far, nothing. I’ve put in requests but I’m not holding my breath. The longer we wait, the less likely it is that we’ll get anything. And waiting won’t help her chances.’
‘How did you find this one, then?’
‘I couldn’t get the hospital coverage, so I put one of my whizz-kids on checking out cameras outside the hospital perimeter. He got lucky.’
‘You mean he broke some laws.’ Harry had no doubts that Ballatyne would do whatever it took to find what he wanted. Accessing NHS digital records was clearly not possible without a court order. But having his man hack into local authority or private contractor digital records was less of a problem.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ The voice was bland. ‘Did you find anything?’
Harry relayed what Casey had told him. Ballatyne swore softly when he got to the bit about the guard leaving, but didn’t volunteer an opinion. Undoubtedly he would begin an internal investigation, but finding out who the man was, or why he had left, might not be so simple.
‘You’ll have to take it from here,’ Ballatyne said. ‘I’ll see if I can access street cameras in the area, but don’t wait for me.’
‘Are you giving me authority to break down a few doors?’ He was certain Ballatyne had just given the silent nod to do whatever he could to track down Clare Jardine. That could only include using Rik’s skills to the maximum effect.
‘I never said that. I’ll be in touch.’ The phone went dead.
Harry rang Rik. The younger man answered, sounding bored and slightly out of breath. He was a hundred yards south of the hospital campus and had so far drawn a blank on any useful cameras.
‘The ones in place are either busted or giving the wrong coverage.’
‘Doesn’t matter, we’ve got a lead,’ Harry told him, and gave him directions to the junction of Caldicot Road and Coldharbour Lane. ‘You take the east side and I’ll take the west. We’ll work our way north until we hit something.’
‘Why north?’
‘I think she’ll make for the city centre. Anywhere else is too open. In her state, she’ll stand out too much. She needs cover, somewhere to hide while she gets help and recuperates.’