Authors: Jeffrey Archer
One broken window and a moment later the six of them were inside. They didn’t know exactly what they were looking for, but when they saw it, they wouldn’t be in any
doubt. The major in charge of the second unit, known as the litter collectors, didn’t carry a stopwatch, because he wasn’t in a hurry. His men had been trained to take their time and
make sure they didn’t miss anything. They were never given a second chance.
Unlike his colleagues in unit one, they were dressed in tracksuits and carried large black plastic bin liners. There was one exception, Number Four – but then he wasn’t a permanent
member of their unit. The curtains were all drawn before the lights were turned on and the search could begin. The men meticulously dismantled each room, swiftly, methodically, leaving nothing to
chance. Two hours later they had filled eight plastic bags. They ignored the body that Number Four had placed on the carpet in the front room, although one of them did search his pockets.
The last things they went through were the three suitcases that had been left standing by the door in the hallway – a veritable treasure-trove. Their contents only filled one bag, but
contained more information than the other seven put together: diaries, names, telephone numbers, addresses and confidential files that Pengelly had no doubt intended to take back to Moscow.
The unit then spent another hour double-checking, but came across little else of interest, but then they were pros, trained to get it right first time. Once the unit commander was convinced they
could do no more, the six men made their way out of the back door and took separate well-rehearsed routes back to the depot, leaving only Number Four behind. But then he was not a litter collector,
but a destroyer.
When the sergeant heard the back door close, he lit a cigarette and took a few drags before dropping the glowing stub on to the carpet next to the body. He then sprinkled the fuel from his
lighter on to the dying embers and moments later a blue flame leapt up and set the carpet alight. He knew it would spread quickly throughout the small timbered cottage, but he needed to be certain
so he didn’t leave until the smoke caused him to cough, when he walked quickly out of the room and headed for the back door. After he’d left the cottage he turned around and, satisfied
the fire was out of control, began to jog back to base. He wouldn’t be calling the fire brigade.
All twelve men arrived back at barracks at different times, and only became a single unit again when they met in the Mess for a drink later that evening. The colonel joined them for dinner.
The cabinet secretary stood by the window of his office on the first floor and waited until he saw Giles Barrington leave No.10 and set off purposefully along Downing Street
towards Whitehall. He then returned to his desk, sat down and thought carefully about his next call, and how much he would reveal.
Harry Clifton was in the kitchen when the phone rang. He picked it up, and when he heard the words, ‘This is Number Ten, would you hold the line please,’ he assumed it would be the
Prime Minister for Emma. He couldn’t remember if she was at the hospital or chairing a meeting at Barrington House.
‘Good morning, Mr Clifton, it’s Alan Redmayne. Is this a good time?’
Harry nearly laughed out loud. He was tempted to say, no, Sir Alan, it isn’t, I’m in the kitchen making myself a cup of tea, and can’t decide between one sugar lump or two, so
perhaps you could call back later? But instead, he switched off the kettle. ‘Of course, Sir Alan, how can I help?’
‘I wanted you to be the first to know that John Pengelly is no longer a problem, and although you’ve been kept in the dark, you should be aware that your fears about Karin Brandt
were unfounded, although understandable. Pengelly was not her father, and for the past five years she has been one of our most trusted operatives. Now that Pengelly is no longer an issue, she will
be on gardening leave, and we have no plans for her to return to work.’
Harry assumed ‘no longer an issue’ was a euphemism for ‘Pengelly has been eliminated’, and even though there were several questions he would have liked to ask the cabinet
secretary, he kept his counsel. He knew that a man who kept secrets even from the Prime Minister would be unlikely to answer them.
‘Thank you, Sir Alan. Is there anything else I ought to know?’
‘Yes, your brother-in-law has also just found out the truth about his wife, but Lord Barrington doesn’t know it was you who led us to Pengelly in the first place. Frankly, I’d
prefer he never did.’
‘But what do I say if he ever raises the subject?’
‘No need to say anything. After all, he has no reason to suspect that you stumbled across the name Pengelly while you were in Moscow for a book conference, and I certainly haven’t
enlightened him.’
‘Thank you, Sir Alan. It was good of you to brief me.’
‘Not at all. And by the way, Mr Clifton, many congratulations. Well deserved.’
After Giles had left No. 10, he made his way quickly back to his home in Smith Square. He was relieved it was Markham’s day off, and once he’d opened the front door,
he immediately went upstairs to the bedroom. He switched on the bedside light, drew the curtains and pulled back the top sheet. Although it was only just after six o’clock, the street lamps
in Smith Square were already ablaze.
He was halfway down the stairs when the front doorbell rang. He ran to open it and found a young man standing on the doorstep. Behind him was an unmarked black van, its back doors open. The man
thrust out his hand. ‘I’m Dr Weeden. I think you’re expecting us?’
‘I am,’ said Giles, as two men emerged from the back of the van and gently offloaded a stretcher.
‘Follow me,’ said Giles, leading them upstairs to the bedroom. The two orderlies lifted the unconscious woman off the stretcher and placed her on the bed. Giles pulled the blanket
over his wife, as the stretcher bearers left without a word.
The doctor checked her pulse. ‘I’ve given her a sedative, so she’ll be asleep for a couple of hours. When she wakes she may well imagine for a moment that it was all a
nightmare, but once she finds she’s in familiar surroundings she’ll quickly recover and recall exactly what happened. She’s bound to wonder how much you know, so you have a little
time to think about that.’
‘I already have,’ said Giles, before accompanying Dr Weeden downstairs and opening the front door. The two men shook hands a second time before the doctor climbed into the front of
the black van without a backward glance. The anonymous vehicle drove slowly round Smith Square then turned right and joined the heavy evening traffic.
Once the van was out of sight, Giles closed the door and ran back upstairs. He pulled up a chair and sat down by his sleeping wife.
Giles must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Karin was sitting up in bed and staring at him. He blinked, smiled and took her in his arms.
‘It’s all over, my darling. You’re safe now,’ he said.
‘I thought if you ever found out, you’d never forgive me,’ she said, clinging on to him.
‘There’s nothing to forgive. Let’s forget about the past and concentrate on the future.’
‘But it’s important I tell you everything,’ said Karin. ‘No more secrets.’
‘Alan Redmayne has already fully briefed me,’ said Giles, trying to reassure her.
‘Not fully,’ Karin said, releasing him. ‘Even he doesn’t know everything, and I can’t go on living a lie.’ Giles looked at her anxiously. ‘The truth is,
I used you to get out of Germany. Yes, I liked you, but once I was safely in England I intended to escape from both you and Pengelly and start a new life. And I would have, if I hadn’t fallen
in love with you.’ Giles took her hand. ‘But in order to keep you, I had to make sure Pengelly still believed I was working for him. It was Cynthia Forbes-Watson who came to my
rescue.’
‘Mine too,’ said Giles. ‘But in my case I fell in love with you after the night we spent together in Berlin. It wasn’t my fault you took a little longer to realize just
how lucky you were.’ Karin burst out laughing and wrapped her arms around him. When she released him, Giles said, ‘I’ll go and make you a cup of tea.’
Only the British, thought Karin.
‘W
HAT TIME ARE WE
commanded to attend Her Majesty’s pleasure?’ asked Emma, with a grin, unwilling to admit how proud she was of her
husband, and how much she was looking forward to the occasion. Unlike the board meeting she would be chairing later that week, which was rarely far from her mind.
‘Any time between ten and eleven,’ said Harry, checking his invitation card.
‘Did you remember to book the car?’
‘Yesterday afternoon. And I double-checked first thing this morning,’ he added as the front doorbell rang.
‘That will be Seb,’ said Emma. She looked at her watch. ‘And he’s on time for a change.’
‘I don’t think he was ever going to be late for this one,’ Karin said.
Giles rose from his place at the breakfast table when Markham opened the door and stood aside to allow Jessica, Seb and a heavily pregnant Samantha to join them.
‘Have you lot had breakfast?’ Giles asked, as he kissed Samantha on the cheek.
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Seb, as Jessica plonked herself down at the table, buttered a slice of toast and grabbed the marmalade.
‘Clearly not all of you,’ said Harry, grinning at his granddaughter.
‘How much time have I got?’ asked Jessica between mouthfuls.
‘Five minutes at the most,’ said Emma firmly. ‘I don’t want to arrive at the palace any later than ten thirty, young lady.’ Jessica buttered another piece of
toast.
‘Giles,’ said Emma, turning to her brother, ‘it was kind of you to put us up for the night, and I’m only sorry you can’t join us.’
‘Immediate family only is the rule,’ said Giles, ‘and quite rightly, otherwise they’d need a football stadium to accommodate everyone who wanted to attend.’
There was a gentle tap on the front door.
‘That will be our driver,’ said Emma. Once again she checked that Harry’s silk tie was straight and removed a grey hair from his morning suit before saying, ‘Follow
me.’
‘Once a chairman, always a chairman,’ whispered Giles, as he accompanied his brother-in-law to the front door. Seb and Samantha followed, with Jessica bringing up the rear, now
munching her third piece of toast.
As Emma stepped out on to Smith Square, a chauffeur opened the back door of a black limousine. She ushered her flock inside before joining Harry and Jessica on the back seat. Samantha and Seb
sat on the two tip-up seats facing them.
‘Are you nervous, Grandpops?’ asked Jessica, as the car moved off and joined the morning traffic.
‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Unless you’re planning to overthrow the state.’
‘Don’t put ideas into her head,’ said Sebastian as they drove past the House of Commons and into Parliament Square.
Even Jessica fell silent when the car drove through Admiralty Arch and Buckingham Palace came into sight. The chauffeur proceeded slowly up the Mall, driving around the statue of Queen Victoria
before stopping outside the palace gates. He wound down his window and said to the young Guards officer, ‘Mr Harry Clifton and family.’