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“What makes you think she’s any more likely than her husband to keep her word?”
“Because your father is her lawyer and Clare has drawn up the agreement, so we’re all on the same team now.”
William stopped at the concierge’s desk.
“Si, signor, how can I help?”
“I need to catch the first available flight back to London.”
* * *
Once the flight attendant had opened the plane door, William shot through the gap like a greyhound out of the slips. He didn’t stop running until he reached a row of public phones.
“Where are you?” asked Lamont.
“Gatwick. Should be with you in about an hour.”
“How does Beth feel about that?”
“It was her idea. In any case, there’s a gentleman with a back problem whose work she wants to visit one more time.”
“Then ask her to fall on her knees and pray, because we may need the intervention of the Almighty to pull this one off. Meanwhile, get back here as quickly as you can.”
William went straight to the front of the queue at passport control and produced his warrant card. An officer checked his passport and he was ushered quickly through. Thanks to Beth having agreed to take care of his luggage, he was able to skip the baggage hall and head straight for the Gatwick Express. When the train pulled into Victoria station thirty minutes later, he was the first to hand his ticket to the collector at the barrier, before running all the way to Scotland Yard. Once the automatic doors had opened, he ignored the lifts, bounded up the stairs to the fourth floor, and headed straight for the commander’s office.
As he ran along the corridor, William noticed the odd looks he was getting from his fellow officers as he passed them, and realized he was still wearing an open-neck floral shirt, jeans, and slip-on sandals. But they weren’t to know that only hours before, he’d been strolling around Rome enjoying temperatures in the nineties. He knocked on the commander’s door and waited for a moment to catch his breath before he walked in. The team rose as one when he entered the room, and began to bang the palms of their hands on the table.
“Take a seat,” said the Hawk after the clamor had died down. “Thanks to you, the assistant commissioner has green-lit the operation, and authorized a full-scale raid on Faulkner’s home tomorrow evening. I know exactly the role I have in mind for you, DS Warwick, but arresting someone wouldn’t be appropriate dressed in that outfit, even in Italy.”
12
William sat in the back of a taxi, and waited for the super to join him.
The final briefing in the commander’s office had lasted for over three hours, and only broke up after every detail had been thrashed out for a third time.
Over lunch at a corner table in the canteen, Lamont continued to double-check the plan for any flaws while his soup went cold. William was aware that his boss couldn’t afford to be involved in another Operation Blue Period. Not how he hoped to end his days at the Yard.
Just after five o’clock, Lamont joined William in the cab. Danny Ives, waiting behind the wheel, didn’t need to be told where to go. He’d done a dry run the day before, and even selected the dropping-off point. DC Adaja, DC Roycroft, and a photographer were in a second taxi, waiting for Danny to move off.
The two cabs left the Yard and headed west toward the M4. Five miles from Limpton Hall, Danny pulled into a petrol station. He hadn’t run out of petrol, he was far too professional for that. But the advance party needed the sun to go even farther west before they set out on the final part of the journey.
Jackie got out and stretched her legs, while William bought a Kit Kat from the shop, not because he was hungry, just to kill time. He had paced around the perimeter of the petrol station several times before Lamont finally said, “Let’s get going.”
William had never felt so nervous. He knew that everything now depended on the credibility of his contact. If Heath didn’t turn up, the whole operation would be aborted and they would have to return to Scotland Yard and face the wrath of the Hawk, who would be sitting waiting for them. William was all too aware that there would only be one person to blame. The word “detective” would be erased from his warrant card and the mothball removed from his uniform.
After a short drive along the motorway, Danny turned down a country lane, and a mile or so farther on the two cabs swung off the road and parked in a copse, from which they had a clear view of the house. Lamont was quickly out of the lead car, and immediately trained his binoculars on the front gates.
“Perfect, Danny,” he said. “We can see them, but they can’t see us.”
A photographer got out of the second car and climbed up into the branches of a nearby oak tree. He only needed a clear view of the road, and would have nothing to show them until they met up in the commander’s office the following morning for the debriefing. No one else was thinking about tomorrow.
Lamont turned his attention to a farmyard on the other side of the road. Officers in four squad cars and two large black windowless vans were well hidden behind the barn, awaiting their orders.
“How did you manage that?” asked William.
“The farmer sits on the bench, and he hasn’t, how shall I put it, formed a high opinion of Faulkner over the years. He was only too happy to help.”
Jackie joined Lamont, a radio in her hand. “The taxis have all arrived at the local railway station, and are parked and ready, in case any of Faulkner’s guests should arrive by rail.”
