‘Agreed,’ said Steven.
‘Good,’ said Macmillan, exchanging a glance that acknowledged both of them were ensuring that the location of the card would remain secret even if either or both of them were to be taken and subjected to coercion. If they didn’t know, they couldn’t tell. It was a bonding moment that few would experience. ‘I’ll ask Jean to put it in the system.’
As if on cue, Jean Roberts knocked and entered. ‘Sir John, the computer people you requested are here.’ She turned to Steven. ‘Steven, the new mobile phone you asked for is on my desk.’
Steven thanked her. He was destroying that particular link between himself and Khan, especially any chance of GPS tracking it might be possible to instigate on the old phone. He got up to go through to his own office.
Macmillan said, ‘I’ll brief our consultants in broad terms, remind them they’ve signed the Official Secrets act etc. and then pass them over to you. Let’s hope Charlie phones soon with details of where the stuff is and we can get started.’
‘I’ll go get that card.’
Macmillan had barely finished briefing the two computer experts retained on Sci-Med’s consultancy list and handed them over to Jean to take through to the guest room for coffee when the phone call from Charlie Malloy came.
‘John, I’ve really gone out on a limb over this,’ said Malloy.
‘I know Charlie and I really appreciate it.’
‘I’m doing the usual police thing of resenting any outside interference in what we see as a straightforward case of murder… even when the “outside interference” is coming from HMG’s spooks, if you get my meaning.’
‘I can imagine, Charlie.’
‘There’s a limit to how long I can play the bloody-minded copper before they flush me and my pension down the toilet. I don’t really have a good reason for removing all that computer stuff.’
‘We’ll be as quick as we can, Charlie. Our computer people are waiting here and Steven is briefing them as we speak.’
‘Good, the gear is in a police warehouse at thirty-four Crompton Street Lane: the entry key is eight-seven-four-one.’
‘Got that. We’ll be as quick as we can and Charlie?’ Macmillan had a sudden thought.
‘Yes?’
Did you get Steven’s request about ballistics on the bullets?’
‘Yes, it’s being dealt with.’
‘It occurs to me that if you were the one to forward the info and request to Inspector Le Grice in Paris and get confirmation, you would have your valid reason for removing computer equipment… you suspected an international element to the crime?’
‘Christ, John, you’re not as dumb as I thought.’
‘Good to know, Charlie,’ said Macmillan urbanely. ‘I’ll let Steven know what’s happening.’
Steven had almost finished his briefing when Macmillan came in with the news that everything was ready. He waited until Steven had finished.
‘To conclude, we have very limited time on site. Anything that can be copied should be copied and brought back here for analysis. We are looking for any kind of correspondence — incoming or outgoing — from Professor Thomas North and Dr Daniel Hausman with special emphasis on anything emanating from Fort Detrick in the USA and Porton Down in England. We suspect the primary versions of these messages will have been wiped but back-ups on the servers might still be there. Any questions?
The two consultants, one a woman in her thirties and the other a male around the same age, both academics, one with expertise in distance learning techniques and the other in communications security, shook their heads.
‘Good,’ said Macmillan. He turned to Steven and said, ‘I’ve arranged with Lukas Neubauer to meet you there. He’ll remain with these good people and deal with any requests they might make for services and equipment.
‘Good,’ said Steven. ‘Let’s go.’
TWENTY FIVE
Lukas Neubauer, section head at Lundborg Analytical, the contract labs that Sci-Med called in for specialist advice and analysis was waiting outside the premises in Crompton Lane when Steven and the consultants arrived. He and Steven greeted each other warmly, their friendship having been cemented over the course many past investigations in the past. Neubauer was primarily a biologist but was in reality a polymath with a wide knowledge of just about everything. Steven had yet to discover a field that the expatriate Czech did not know a lot about. He had an insatiable thirst for learning.
Steven introduced the two consultants to him and was pleased to see Neubauer’s outgoing personality and charm put them at their ease. Anything they needed, they only had to ask… including lunch.
Steven and Neubauer exchanged pleasantries while the two others moved into their comfort zone through plugging things in and setting things up.
‘How’s business at Lundborg?’ Steven asked.
‘Ticking over,’ replied Neubauer. ‘People are cutting back on everything these days including contract research so we depend on our regular customers like Sci-Med. I have to admit I was hoping for a big juicy DNA sequencing job when Sir John phoned but… baby-sitting’s okay. He and Steven smiled, both knowing what was coming next. Together they intoned, ‘Keeps the wolf from the door.’
Steven returned to the Home Office to do what he least liked doing, waiting. There was no question of his being able to settle to anything. Instead he alternated between pacing in his office and looking out of the window, wondering how the day was going to turn out. The first piece of news came just after eleven o’clock, not from Crompton Lane but in the form of confirmation from Philippe Le Grice in Paris that the bullets which had killed Hausman and Liam had indeed been fired from the same gun used to execute Aline Lagarde.
Steven gave the news to Macmillan who was pleased at hearing something positive for a change. ‘I’ll tell Charlie when he calls,’ he said. ‘It should help his blood pressure and give him a bit of breathing space,’
‘Maybe you should warn him not to use the information unless he really has to,’ said Steven. ‘We’ll need more in the way of direct evidence to nail Khan… like finding the gun on him.’
‘Or getting a DNA match from either the Paris hotel or the North lab, preferably both.’ said Macmillan.
‘He’s a pro; chances are he wore gloves on both occasions and left nothing behind. But one way or the other…’
Macmillan looked at him. ‘Don’t do anything silly, Steven. You and I haven’t exactly made many friends in high places over this business and there are those who will be looking for any excuse. As I’ve said many times before, the only thing that keeps us in business is Her Majesty’s Opposition — regardless of who they are — and the capital they’d make out of any government trying to shut us up.’
‘Understood,’ said Steven.
The conversation ended when Charlie Malloy phoned to convey news of the pressure he was under and to urge Sci-Med to be as quick as possible. Steven remained in the room while Macmillan revealed the news about the ballistics match but it was clear from the one side of the conversation he could hear that Malloy was still very anxious. He heard Macmillan say, ‘Believe me, Charlie, our people are working flat out as we speak. We’ll be out of Crompton Lane in no time. I’ll let you know the minute it happens.’
Macmillan ended the call and looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Think we should phone Lukas?’ he asked.
Steven shook his head. ‘He knows we’re on borrowed time. I told him.’
Steven noted that Macmillan’s behaviour was now mimicking his earlier own as he watched him stop fidgeting with his pen to get up and go over to look out of the window. ‘God, I hope they find something,’ he said without turning round. ‘If they don’t, we really are up that well-known creek without means of propulsion and with half the Royal Navy bearing down on us.’