Law began to smile, in anticipation.
‘According to them, no such person exists,’ concluded the sergeant. ‘So I put the certificate through to forensic. It’s a forgery.’
‘Well done, laddie,’ praised the superintendent. ‘Well done.’
He stood up, taking Charlie’s file from those stacked against the wall.
‘Routine,’ he said softly. ‘That’s what does it, every time.’
It had taken long enough, thought Hardiman.
‘Still not back at the house yet?’ Law enquired, expectantly.
‘Not yet.’
Law frowned at a sudden thought.
‘What about that report from uniformed, their belief there was some sort of observation?’
‘Checked on my way here,’ said Hardiman. ‘Not there any more.’
‘Which leaves us with the London firm of underwriters,’ said Law. ‘I think it’s time we checked to see how deeply they investigate their people.’
Onslow Smith looked down contentedly at the file lying before him. Through everything now there was a curt red ink mark: every entry erased. He deserved the comfort of the separate military aircraft that he had arranged for himself, he decided. And it would have been quite wrong anyway to have travelled back with the rest of the team.
He put the documents into the briefcase with the combination lock and placed it alongside the other sealed file holders that would all be taken by courier to the airport for transportation back to America and then oblivion in the C.I.A. archives. In a separate container was the money Wilberforce had insisted on returning. The money would probably upset their computer, he thought; it had already been written off. Just like Wilberforce. Poor bugger.
The telephone surprised him and he stared at it, hesitating before lifting the receiver. He smiled, immediately recognising Braley’s voice.
‘All aboard?’ enquired Smith, cheerily.
‘Not quite,’ said the man and for the first time Smith realised the apprehension from the other end.
‘What do you mean, not quite?’
‘I’m sorry I’ve left it so late,’ said Braley. ‘I wanted to be sure, so I carried out a complete check …’
‘For Christ’s sake, what is it?’ demanded Smith.
‘Ruttgers isn’t here.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
Edith opened the door without interest, looking dully out into the corridor. Then she saw Charlie and started back. She couldn’t make the words and so she just stood there, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘Oh, Charlie … Charlie,’ she said and all the feelings of the previous days overflowed and she burst into tears.
He came into the room, holding his arms out to her and she clung to him so desperately that he could feel her fingers bruising into his back. He held her as tightly, stroking her hair and her shoulders, trying to calm her, but she couldn’t stop, huge sobs racking through her.
Her face muffled into his shoulder, she just kept repeating ‘Charlie, oh, Charlie’ and he felt her groping at him, needing the physical reassurance of his body.
‘It’s all right, Edith,’ he said, soothingly. ‘It’s over. All over.’
She wept on and Charlie let her cry, knowing she had to wash the fear and anxiety out of herself. She’d suffered far more than he had, he realised. But he’d make her forget, eventually. Certainly she’d never suffer again, he determined. Never.
Gently he moved her sideways, so they could both sit on the edge of the bed. The crying was becoming less hysterical, he recognised.
‘Over, Edith,’ he repeated. ‘All over.’
It still seemed a long time before she had recovered sufficiently to pull away from him. Her eyes were red and sore and her nose had run. Lovingly, he dried her face. The breath was still jumping unevenly through her, so that her shoulders kept shaking.
‘Please kiss me,’ she said.
Gently he leaned forward, putting his lips to hers, but when she tried to pull close to him, dragging his mouth towards her in a sudden frenzy, her breath caught again and she had to jerk away, gasping a mixture of laughter and fresh tears.
He put his hands out, holding her face, so she wouldn’t collapse.
‘Stop it,’ he said curtly. ‘Stop it, Edith.’
She bit against the emotion, lips tightly closed.
‘I’m all right now,’ she said, after a while. Still he held her, bringing her forward and lightly kissing her forehead.
‘I love you, Edith,’ he said.
She smiled up at him, remembering the promise.
‘I was so frightened, Charlie,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’
He shook his head.
‘They made too many mistakes,’ he said.
‘You were lucky.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed seriously. ‘They reacted exactly as I thought they would.’
‘Let’s hide somewhere, Charlie. Somewhere they will never find us.’
‘We’ll hide,’ he said. ‘They’ll never get this close again.’
‘Charlie.’
‘What?’
‘Make love to me, Charlie. It’s been so long.’
Her breath didn’t catch and they kissed open-mouthed, trying at the same time to pull the clothes away from each other in urgent tugging movements. They couldn’t do it, so they parted briefly, clawing the covering away and then snatched, one for the other, falling back on to the dishevelled bed. The fear that Charlie had kept so tightly controlled surged through him, so that he shuddered as deeply as Edith had done when she’d first seen him and he clung desperately to her, needing the comfort of her body that she’d felt for his earlier. But not sexually, he realised, in sudden, horrified awareness. He crouched over her, flaccid and unresponsive, head buried into her shoulder.
‘I want to, Edith. I really want to.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Help me to do it.’
‘It won’t work, Charlie. Not now.’
‘Please.’
‘Later, Charlie. It will be better later.’
He toppled sideways, head still into her shoulder so that he couldn’t look at her.
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry,’ he said.
She lay, gently stroking his back. Conscious of how cold he was, she tugged the blanket over them. Because of the confused way they were lying, their legs protruded from the bottom.
‘I’m glad,’ she said.
He pulled slightly away, still not looking at her.
‘Glad?’he said.
‘Glad to know you were as scared as me.’
He burrowed into the blanket.
‘I was scared,’ he admitted, quietly. ‘Very scared.’
‘And now it’s over. For both of us,’ she reminded him.
He laughed, an uncertain sound.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘It was supposed to be me, comforting you,’ he said.
She pulled his head closer to her, so that his lips were near her breast.
‘We need each other very much, don’t we, Charlie?’ she said, happily.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘I’m glad you love me, Charlie.’
‘Even though I can’t prove it?’
‘Don’t be silly.’
It was growing warm beneath the blanket.
‘Your trousers are puddled on the floor,’ she said. ‘They’re going to be very creased.’
‘They usually are,’ he said, sleepily.
‘Yes,’ she remembered, ‘they usually are. Don’t ever alter, will you, Charlie?’
He grunted and she felt his breath deepening against her.
‘I love you so much,’ she said softly, knowing he couldn’t hear her. ‘I love you so much.’
She trailed a finger over his cheek, smiling as he twitched at the irritation. It was so good to have him back, she thought. Completely.