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The man finally switched off the torch and walked back to the truck. He spoke briefly to the driver and climbed back into the passenger seat. The driver cursed angrily then started the engine and drove off. Sabrina waited until the engine had faded into the distance before getting to her feet. The sudden movement startled the rat and it disappeared through a hole in the wall behind her. She was sweating. Rats still frightened her, but at least now she was able to control her emotions. And that discipline had certainly saved her life. She picked up the holdall and moved cautiously to the entrance of the alley. The street was deserted. She hurried over to the manhole and knocked on the cover. It was pushed back and Graham's head appeared above the level of the road.

'You OK?' he asked anxiously.

She nodded and handed the holdall to him. He passed it on to Tambese then pressed himself against the wall to let Sabrina climb down to the ledge. She took the torch from the holdall and switched it on. The first object the beam picked out was a dead rat floating in the water.

'There's a lot of them down here,' Tambese said behind her.

'I can live with that,' she replied nonchalantly.

Graham smiled to himself then pulled the cover back into place.

NINE

Carmen looked up in surprise when Whitlock entered the lounge. 'What are you doing up, C.W.? Those sleeping tablets were supposed to have knocked you out until morning.'

'I never took them,' Whitlock replied, easing himself into his favourite armchair.

'I don't believe it,' she retorted then closed the book she was reading and placed it on the table beside her. 'You need rest. Why else do you think I asked the doctor to prescribe you such a strong sedative?'

'I'm on standby, Carmen. What if there were an emergency? What use would I be laid out cold until morning?'

She shook her head in desperation. 'Your arm's in a sling, for God's sake. What use would you be anyway? I know this might come as something of a shock to you, but UN AGO can function without you. Now, please, take those tablets and go to bed.'

'Stop fussing, Carmen, I'm OK,' he retorted then inhaled sharply through clenched teeth when he bumped his arm against the chair.

'So I see.' She got to her feet. 'OK, if you won't listen to me as your wife, then will you at least listen to me as a doctor?'

'I'm not one of your kid patients,' he said irritably.

'No, you're not! At least they have the sense to listen to me when I tell them to take their medicine.' She snatched the book off the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

He crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a small whisky before returning to the armchair. He had certainly been tempted to take the sleeping pills, if only to escape from the guilt he felt inside, a guilt that stemmed from deceit. It had started when Sabrina rang him from Zimbala to get Mobuto to vouch for Joseph Moredi. Then she had called him again to get a clearance on Colonel David Tambese. He had secretly obtained the necessary information from a computer file in the command centre. In return for his help, she had confided to him that she and Graham were working together to find Remy Mobuto. But Kolchinsky had forbidden her to go near Kondese. It had to be their secret.

Whitlock had been caught in two minds. She was acting in direct violation of an order. And that could lead to her being suspended. Moreover, he would be part of it if he kept the information to himself. But they were his partners, and he had given his word not to tell Kolchinsky. At first he felt he had done the right thing. But the guilt had taken effect like a slow-acting poison and now it weighed heavily on his mind. He knew all he had to do was call Kolchinsky to clear his conscience. But he had given his word. No, he would stand by them, even if it went against him. He was still a field operative. He would only be transferred to the management side at the end of the year. His loyalty was still to Graham and Sabrina. It didn't ease his conscience, but at least he felt his actions were justified. But if they screwed up…

The telephone rang, interrupting his train of thought.

'C.W.?'

'Sergei?' Whitlock replied, immediately recognizing Kolchinsky's voice.

'How's the arm?'

Whitlock glanced towards the kitchen door. 'It's OK, thanks. What's up? I'm sure you didn't call just to ask me about my arm.'

'No,' Kolchinsky agreed. 'It's about your niece, Rosie.'

'How do you know about Rosie?' Whitlock shot back in surprise.

'I'm not going to explain it over the phone. I've sent a car over for you. It should be there in about twenty minutes.'

'Sergei, is she alright?' Whitlock demanded.

'I don't know,' Kolchinsky replied.

'You don't know?' Whitlock retorted sharply. 'Why are you being so damn evasive?'

Kolchinsky sighed deeply down the line. 'A T-shirt with her name on it was found in a flat in the Murray Hill district. Three bodies were also found in the flat. Two of them were policemen. But Rosie wasn't there. That's all I know at the moment. I'm on my way down there now.'

'Whose flat was it?'

'We don't know, not yet,' Kolchinsky replied. Til see you there, C.W. And don't say anything to her parents until we've established what really happened.'

'Sure,' Whitlock muttered then replaced the receiver and looked up at Carmen who had been standing in the doorway for the duration of the call. 'I've got to go out.'

'It's Rosie, isn't it?'

Whitlock nodded then got to his feet.

'What's happened to her?'

'That's what I'm hoping to find out,' Whitlock replied then squeezed her arm reassuringly before walking into the bedroom.

The whole street had been cordoned off by the police by the time Whitlock arrived. The driver pulled up next to Kolchinsky who was standing a few yards away from the growing crowd of onlookers struggling behind the police tape to get a better view of the entrance to the apartment block. Word had already spread among them of at least three murders inside the building, and all they wanted to see now were the bodies being brought out to the two ambulances parked close to the steps leading up into the foyer.

Kolchinsky opened the back door and Whitlock climbed out. The driver, who had already been told by Kolchinsky to wait for Whitlock, drove away in search of a parking space. Whitlock held his injured arm close to his chest as he followed Kolchinsky to the front of the crowd. A patrolman, who had already been told by a superior to give Kolchinsky authorized access to the area, immediately pulled up the tape to allow the two men through.

Whitlock grabbed Kolchinsky's arm once they were out of earshot of the crowd. 'I want some answers before we go in there. Firstly, how did the police know to get in touch with you about Rosie?'

'We have files on the relatives of all UN AGO personnel, both here and abroad. A list of those names is in the hands of Interpol, the FBI and the NYPD. We can't afford to take any chances, C.W.'

'That's a violation of their civil rights,' Whitlock shot back as they continued to walk towards the building.

'Spare the lecture, C.W. It's in their interests as much as ours. If they get into trouble with the law, we need to know about it to prevent the possibility of the organization being compromised in the ensuing investigation. And in certain cases, we can pull strings to have the charges dropped for the same reason.'

'And who has access to these files?'