A Line in the Sand (33 page)

always have time for a drink. That what you want?"

"Where should I be?"

"Down there, where it's at, with the principal. If you don't mind, fuck off, because I want to get this boring crap finished

please,

with

You shouldn't be whining around with has-been

and get home.

"legends".

ere.

Get down th

Nothing is ever decided here they think it is, and

strut around as if they actually pull the string3. They don't. It's there it'll be decided.

down

Body to body, as it always is. Or is

too tough for you? You're a lucky bastard to have

close quarters

e

th

chance to be a part of it, if you're up for it."

Even while talking, she was dialling on her telephone. He spun on his

that needed

heel and she didn't look up, as if she'd said everything

ying.

sa

used by the door.

He pa

He didn't knock, but he put his head round

it

, "Can I come in?"

and asked

"It's your house, Mr. Perry," the detective said, droll.

"You can go where you like in it."

out on the blanket over the table, the Heckler & Koch,

It was all

216

the

f vest, a little cluster of gas grenades, the mobile

bullet-proo

phone,

the radio, the Thermos, the plastic lunch-box, the newspaper.

"My wife's gone to bed."

"She's had a long day, sir," the detective said, noncommittal.

gged.

Perry shru

very good company for each other at the moment, I'm

"We're not

afraid."

"Early days, sir, takes a bit of time for us all to shake down. Never easy at the beginning, having us in the house."

ind talking?"

"Do you m

"Up to you, sir."

"It's not interfering?"

"You talk away, sir, if that's what you want."

The detective eyed him. Perry didn't know what he thought. He was a

younger man with fair hair and a good suit, and he had the faint accent West Midlands. His jacket was off and he wore a shoulder

of the

holster on a heavy harness. He seemed not to notice when he

ed in his chair and it flapped against his body. Perry

straighten

supposed that if you wore the thing the whole time, a holster and

a

gun, then you came to forget it.

"It's Leo, isn't it?"

"It's Detective Constable Blake, sir, or I'm Mr. Blake you please yourself."

"Sorry."

"No offence, sir."

"I don't seem to get to talk much with Mr. Davies."

217

"We're all of us different, sir."

Perry stood in the doorway.

"Sounds daft I'm in my own home with my wife and I'm lonely.

Late-at-night talk, you'll have to forgive me. I just need to talk, have someone talk to me. I'm not saying I want a shoulder to cry

on,

it's just talking that I need. I can't say it to Meryl. It's easier and no offence to a stranger, but already it's getting to me. But I

made my bed, didn't I? That's what people say. Still, not to worry, there are good people here, in spite of tonight, and they'll see us through. Actually, being honest, the worst bit of all this is behind me. Believe me. A couple of months ago, I'm lying in bed, the

radio's

on for the news, Meryl's asleep, and I heard my old name.

"Would Mr. Gavin Hughes, last heard of five years ago, go to the general hospital at Keswick in Cumbria where his father, Mr. Percy Hughes, is dangerously ill." I lied to Meryl as to why I was going out, I drove up there in a daze. I broke all the rules because I'd try to reclaim the former life, and

been told that I shouldn't ever

I

went in to see him. The crisis was over. He was sitting up in bed.

Me

walking in made him cry, but he cried worse when I refused to tell him

who I was now, where I lived, what I did. My mother told me to go away.

said I was better gone if I couldn't trust my own parents.

She

I

e.

came hom

That day was worse than anything. There's three times

since Mr. Davies arrived here that I've thought of telling that to him, but it never seemed the right time. I don't find talking easy with Mr. Davies."

He couldn't tell whether Blake was bored with the story or moved by it.

a very conscientious officer, sir, one of the best."

"He's

led ruefully, then forced himself to lighten the mood.

Perry smi

"How is one officer better than another?"

"Planning, thoroughness, study..

t.

. He's good at all tha

There's

218

an

old principle in our job, sir no such thing as complete protection.

But

if you do your work then you're giving yourself a chance, and making a

chance for your principal. Bill that's Mr. Davies, sorry he's good at

planning and he's done all the studying."

"What is there to study?"

"Everything that's gone before, because you can learn from it. We had

a half-day clear last year, and he marched me round central London, round five sites where there was an assassination attempt on Queen Victoria's life he knew the exact place each time, the weapon, why she'd lived. He read about it so he could learn from it. We had

a day

clear in January, a course was cancelled at the last minute, so he took

three of us into the video room that SB have, gave us a screening.

We

had the killing of Sadat and Mrs. Gandhi, Mounthatten and Rabin.

Each

detail, what had gone wrong, where the security had fouled up and

the

video of the shooting at Reagan, which was just diabolical for the did about everything wrong that was

protection officers, they

possible.

You wouldn't want to hear too much about Sadat and Mrs. Gandhi,

sir."

"Wouldn't I? Why not?"

A slight grin fluttered at Blake's mouth. Perry knew it was intended he'd snatch the bait.

eir own bodyguards.

"They were shot by th

Won't happen to you, sir

they

were murdered by the people who were protecting them. Mr. Davies told

me that Mussolini was paranoid about his protection people, gave them wave about but kept the ammunition locked up. He studies

guns to

what's happened, learns from it. He could walk you down the street, by

the Hilton Hotel in London where the Israeli ambassador was shot,

219

and

talk you through it as if he'd been there the P0 did well, fired and hit the gunman, but it was still too late, his principal was

critically

injured, brain damage. We're always trying to catch up, we're told that their action is faster than our reaction, stands to reason. To give yourself a chance, what Mr. Davies does, you study and learn.

It

matters to him. The job matters too much to him, it's bad for his wife

and kiddies, but it's good for you, sir. Can I say something?"

"Of course you can."

"Like, in confidence?"

"Please."

"Not to go further. We're all covering for him. It's a lousy bit of

wife trouble. If the bosses knew how lousy they could pull him off the

job. They don't let men with bad home problems carry firearms. When he lost the weapon in the playground, if you'd shopped him then, made a

complaint, the bosses would have put the evil eye on him and the

le bit might have surfaced.

troub

If you'd complained, he could have

been out on his neck. You did well there, sir."

"Don't take me wrong but it's a comfort to know that other people have

a bloody awful day."

"He told me not easy for you, sir."

"Well, time for bed. I'm grateful. Thanks."

"You pretty down, sir, on the floor? Has Mr. Davies told you about Al

Haig? No? Get him to it's his favourite. When you feel low, like the

world's kicking you, get him to do his Al Haig story. Goodnight,

sir."

rned for the door, then stopped.

Perry tu

220

"There's something I don't understand. I was asked by the London people to leave, and I refused, we had a shouting match. They came back this morning, tried again, new life and a removal van, and again I

refused. But they called this evening, it was all soft soap, and

they

accepted my decision to stay. Why'd they change course?"

"Don't know, sir, couldn't say."

t to the bottom of the stairs, and hesitated.

Perry wen

"Can I ask you, Mr. Blake, in a live situation have you ever fired your gun?"

e

"Only the once. Two shots, stone dead, pints of blood on th

pavement.

Just happened to be there and just happened to be armed because I

was

going off duty. Before you ask, I didn't feel good about it and I didn't feel bad about it. I shot a beef bullock that had broken out of

an abattoir pen and was running up a high street in south London.

I

didn't feel anything. Get him to tell you the Al Haig story.

Goodnight, sir."

Frank Perry climbed the stairs, past the winking light of the security sensor, and went to bed.

Chapter Ten.

"Hello here already, Cathy? How's it going?"

"Getting there steadily, not there yet."

It was the Saturday morning. The early underground trains were

empty,

and Geoff Markham had reckoned that he'd be the first. There would only be lowlife in early on a Saturday morning. Cox was down in the country for the weekend, to be disturbed only with news of

earthquake-shattering proportions. The warhorse from B Branch

would be

in charge, but not in before nine, and there'd be a probationer to answer his telephone. Fenton could be called at home.

221

Markham should have been driving with Vicky to see her parents in

Hampshire. He'd still been smarting from the fracas with her when he

had grabbed his coat and briefcase and fled the flat. He'd met the postman on the pavement and snatched his mail -bills and circulars, a

couple of other envelopes, catalogues and then hurried for the

station.

Vicky had said that her mother was cooking a special lunch; it had been

in his diary for weeks. Her mother had invited friends in, and

Vicky's

brother and his partner were also driving up from London. After the few

bitter words, and then the harsh silence, Markham had put the phone down on her and run. He could have stayed out of Thames House that morning, and that afternoon, and all of Sunday. He could have made an

issue of it to Fenton, whinged about the hours he'd put in through the

week. He hadn't. Instead he'd rung Fenton early, before he'd rung Vicky, and told him what he intended, gained the necessary clearance.

Actually, he didn't think Vicky's mother thought much of him, didn't rate him as a good catch for her daughter; but Vicky was two years older than him, and there wouldn't be that many more chances of

marriage coming her way, so he was tolerated.

Cathy Parker, the legend, was back at her screen, studying it with concentration as if he wasn't there.

In his cubicle, he checked the answer phone and there was the SB

overnight digest to get through. He took a sheet of clean paper to his

door, and used the black marker pen.

DAY THREE.

He went off on a wander down the corridor to the coffee machines.

The

building was hushed quiet. Weekends in Thames House were like a

plague

time. The corridor was darkened, every second light was off as a

of the newest economy campaign. The doors were shut. The notice

boards for cheap holiday advertising, through the civil-service

union,

222

for rentable cottages in the country and second-hand cars were in

Perhaps he should ring Vicky's mother with an apology, but

shadow.

later, and maybe send some flowers... He swore softly: he hadn't the right change for two cardboard cups of coffee, only for one, and he know whether she took sugar, whether she took milk.

didn't

The first

big decision of Geoff Markham's morning: milk and no sugar. He

ed

stamp

back down the corridor, his footfall echoing past the locked doors.

The American, in the same suit and a clean shirt, was sitting opposite her now. He had a newspaper in front of his face and his chair was tilted back, his scuffed shoes on the table.

He felt a youngster's hesitation.

coffee."

"I thought you might like a

She looked up.

"If I want coffee, I am capable of getting it."

"I've brought a milk-and-no-sugar."

"I don't take milk in coffee." She was at her screen, typing briskly.

The American grinned, "Mr. Markham, I could murder for coffee."

ushing, Markham slapped the cardboard cup on to the desk in front

Fl

of

him, spilling it.

"You're most kind, Mr. Markham. Miss Parker tells me you're going our Juliet Seven's territory?"

down to y

"Did she?"

"And I'd like to hitch a ride."

"Would you?"

"So's we get the hassle out of the system good and quick, may we just establish some minor points? If you had a problem getting out of

bed

that is not a concern of mine. If you have a problem with working weekends, I don't because I work every weekend. OK? You have been tasked as my liaison, and I think us going down to Juliet Seven's