‘It’s not that, but he is still preying on my mind.’ He had a flash of the memory of informing Zeke’s parents of his death and their reaction. It had been very hard to deal with. He had also made it his job to accompany the body back to the States to hand it over to them personally. Their grief had rubbed off on him deeply.
‘What can I do for my favourite legal attache this morning, then? Begin at the beginning,’ Bottram said benignly.
Donaldson opened the envelope and extracted a large number of photographs which he did not immediately show to Bottram. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time researching Mendoza, his associates, relatives, friends, etc. I’ve pulled together everything we know about him and managed to get photos of many of these people.’ He paused uncertainly. ‘As we know, Mendoza arranges for a lot of people to enter the UK illegally and I’ve spent time analysing what we know about the people connected to him and how they help him — all those sorts of things.’
‘Very creditable,’ said Bottram.
‘Okay, that’s one prong of my fork, shall we say? The other is that I believe Zeke must have been compromised somehow because, to this day, I do not believe he would have been so unprofessional as to let his guard down.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. Where is this going?’
Donaldson showed her a photograph. ‘Do you know this woman?’
Bottram looked and gulped. Donaldson could tell she had suddenly gone ice-cold.
‘She is married to a Spanish diplomat based in their embassy here,’ she said. ‘I met her once briefly at a function there. Just fleetingly.’ Bottram, who was tanned by means of a sunbed, had lost much of her colour and had gone slightly green.
‘Didn’t I see her here?’ Donaldson asked. ‘On the day I learned what had happened to Zeke. Remember, when I showed you those faxes?’
‘Ahh, possibly,’ Bottram said vaguely.
‘It was her. I checked the visitors’ book, Philippa,’ he said and ploughed on. ‘It turns out that she is related to Mendoza, some distant cousin or other, and that both she and her husband are suspected to be on Mendoza’s payroll. In fact the Spanish police are very close to arresting the husband on corruption charges. She, incidentally, is known to be bi-sexual.’
‘What are you getting at, Karl?’
‘You really want me to go on, Philippa?’
She stared hard at him, so he showed her more photographs. ‘I’ve had a metropolitan police surveillance team working for me for the past two weeks. Remember that nice commander who was here a while back, the one dealing with the Yardies? He arranged it for me. I’ve had them watching and following you, Philippa. I’ve also had your phone calls from here monitored?’
‘You bastard — on what authority?’ She picked up the photographs and for a moment looked like she was going to hurl them across the office.
‘On my own, as an FBI agent investigating the murder of a fellow agent. The photos show you consorting with this woman on several occasions over the last two weeks, because you are bi-sexual too, aren’t you? You’ve been screwing her and she’s been using you, Philippa. Pillow talk. She seduced you and you went along for the ride because you were lonely. Philippa, you’ve been very stupid and it cost two agents their lives.’ He paused for effect. ‘And now I’ve come to get you.’
One month later, Henry Christie, Kate and their two girls were on holiday in Lanzarote. As he was suspended on full pay, he was determined to take advantage of his free time. The garden at home was now wonderful. The house was in the process of being redecorated. His music collection had expanded and he was spending quality time with his wife and children.
He was strolling alone, out to buy rolls for their breakfast in their self-catering apartment. He was on the seafront at Playa de los Pocillos, breathing in the fresh air and feeling the hot sun on his face and head. He had the beginnings of a good tan.
He had heard nothing from the inquiry into his terrible judgement. No one had contacted him, even from a welfare point of view, which did not surprise him. That was the way the organization worked. It purported to be caring, but in reality it wasn’t.
Yet he felt strangely serene. He should have been stressed, going out of his tiny mind, but he wasn’t. He believed that the inquiry would vindicate him and that he would be reinstated, but would probably return to his original rank of inspector, as opposed to temporary chief inspector and then be transferred — or sidelined — into some nondescript, out-of-harm’s-way job where he could do no damage. But it did not bother him too much. It was fairly obvious that the powers that be did not want him to catch villains any more because they didn’t trust him. He had thought that would have destroyed him, but it didn’t.
What had happened was that this enforced break had allowed him to re-assess his priorities in life. Now he knew that his family came first — being a good husband and father — and way back in a poor second place came the job of being a policeman. Beyond that, nothing else really mattered.