When there was still no response, Wilberforce pressed on: ‘We’ll have put the Russians in their place and there won’t be a service, either in the West or the East, who won’t know about it … because I’ve already made damned sure it’s being spelled out, move by move …’
‘It’s very involved,’ said Cuthbertson reluctantly.
‘And foolproof,’ said Wilberforce. ‘No risk. No danger.’
‘There are too many things over which we haven’t any control,’ said Ruttgers, through a tobacco cloud. ‘Charlie Muffin has only got to do one thing we don’t expect and the whole thing is thrown on its ass.’
‘But it won’t be,’ said Wilberforce. ‘The jewellery is being taken tonight. Once that goes, everything else follows naturally. It hardly matters what Charlie Muffin does. He’s helpless to affect it, in any way. In fact, that’s exactly what he is — helpless.’
‘What about the civil police?’ protested Smith. ‘They’re already involved in the bank robbery. There’s a risk there.’
‘We employed a petty crook on that … the same one who will be used tonight. We’ll arrange his arrest, so that most of the stuff taken from the Brighton bank can be recovered and returned to its owners — those not too frightened of any tax investigation to claim it, anyway.’
‘He’ll talk,’ said Smith.
‘About what?’ enquired Wilberforce. ‘A mystery man called Brown who seems to have an enormous amount of inside information and knowledge?’
He nodded towards Snare, whose reluctance at the instructions he had been given that night was growing with the objections from the other people in the room.
‘The meetings are always arranged by telephone. They’ve only ever met at crowded railway stations. And they’ll part immediately after the Faberge robbery, just as they separated directly after the Brighton bank robbery. Packer can talk for as long as he likes and it won’t matter a damn. He’s a villain, with a list of previous convictions. Which is exactly why we chose him. We’ve even ensured that during the bank robbery he drank from a mug which was left behind, so there will be saliva contrasts for blood type identification. He’ll be sufficient for the police, especially when they’ll be able to return most of the property. Why can’t you accept that there is nothing that can go wrong?’
‘Because I’m not convinced it’s that easy,’ said Smith. He hesitated, then added quietly: ‘So I won’t agree with it.’
Wilberforce stared back expressionlessly at the other Director. He hadn’t expected an outright refusal.
Smith stood up, feeling he had to emphasise his reasons.
‘Not only is it dangerous,’ he said, ‘it’s stupid. Because it’s unnecessary.’
‘I don’t really see that there’s a great deal you can do to stop it,’ pointed out Wilberforce objectively. It was unfortunate he had to be quite so direct, he thought. In many ways, Smith’s growing condescension reminded him of his wife. At least, he decided, he’d be able to make Smith express his regret, later on.
For several moments, the two Directors stared at each other and Wilberforce imagined the American was going to argue further. Then Onslow Smith jerked his head towards Ruttgers.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
As the men walked to the door of the huge office, Wilberforce called out: ‘I do hope that you’re not severing our co-operation on this matter.’
Smith halted, looking back.
‘It was not I who ended the co-operation,’ he said.
Neither American spoke until they had settled in the back of the waiting limousine and were heading towards Grosvenor Square.
‘We going ahead by ourselves?’ asked Ruttgers, expectantly.
‘We bring men in,’ agreed Smith. ‘A lot more than were with you in Zurich.’
‘Why?’
Smith didn’t answer immediately.
‘Wilberforce is a sneaky son of a bitch,’ he said, after several minutes’ thought. ‘I’m not going to get our asses in any snare he’s laying for us.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Even when you can control the civil police, as Wilberforce can within limitations on a thing like this, a killing is still a killing. I’m not making a move against Charlie Muffin until I’m convinced that Wilberforce isn’t setting us up.’
‘More delays,’ moaned Ruttgers bitterly. ‘We’re giving the bastard a chance.’
‘But we’re not making any mistakes,’ said Smith. He’d already made too many, imagining there was safety in letting Wilberforce take the lead. It was time, thought Smith, that he started looking after himself. And that was what he was going to do.
Back in the Whitehall office, Cuthbertson stared at the Director’s desk he had once occupied.
‘They forgot to take the money with them,’ he said.
‘They’ll be back,’ said Wilberforce confidently.
Contacting Rupert Willoughby by telephone, instead of going personally either to his flat or City office, was probably a useless precaution, decided Charlie. But it might just reduce the danger to the younger man. So it was worth while. It was right he should feel guilt at compromising Sir Archibald’s son, he knew.
‘Warn me?’ queried the underwriter.
‘The robbery must mean they’ve found me,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s very easy for the department to gain access to bank account details. If they’re aware of the meetings between us, they’ll know the?50,000 inheritance has been moved from deposit. And probably guessed the other money came from me, as well.’
‘Couldn’t the robbery just be a coincidence?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s a guaranteed way to get me back here … where they can do what they like, when they like and in circumstances over which they’ll have most control.’
‘Christ,’ said Willoughby softly.
Very soon, thought Charlie, the man would appreciate it really wasn’t a game.
‘I’ve already had to involve you,’ apologised Charlie. ‘I’ve had to make a statement to the police and I gave you as a business reference.’
‘They’ve already contacted me,’ confirmed Willoughby. ‘I think I satisfied them.’
Law was very thorough, Charlie decided.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘I had little choice, did I?’ said Willoughby.
The attitude was changing, recognised Charlie.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked the underwriter.
‘I don’t understand enough to do anything yet,’ said Charlie. He stopped, halted by a thought If Wilberforce were the planner, he’d get perverse enjoyment moving against the son of the man he considered had impeded his promotion in the department.
‘Has anything happened to you in the last few weeks that you regard as strange?’ Charlie continued. ‘Any unusual business activity?’
There was a delay at the other end of the line, while the man searched his memory.
‘No,’ said Willoughby finally.
‘Sure?’
‘Positive. Whatever could happen?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You’re not very encouraging,’ protested Willoughby.
‘I’m not trying to be. I’m trying to be objective.’
‘What should I do?’ asked the underwriter.
‘Just be careful,’ said Charlie. ‘They’re bastards.’
‘Shouldn’t you be the one taking care?’
Charlie grimaced at the question. Wilberforce was using him like a laboratory animal, he thought suddenly, goading and prodding to achieve an anticipated reaction. When laboratory tests were over, the animal was usually killed. When, he wondered, would Wilberforce’s experiment end?
‘I am,’ promised Charlie, emptily.
‘When are we going to meet?’
‘We’re not,’ said Charlie definitely.
‘Let’s keep in touch daily, at least.’
The concern was discernible in the man’s voice.
‘If I can.’
‘My father always said there was one thing particularly unusual about you, Charlie. He said you were an incredible survivor,’ recalled Willoughby.
But usually he’d known from which way the attack was coming, thought Charlie. Willoughby had meant the remark as encouragement, he recognised. To which of them? he wondered.