False Friends (41 page)

‘Home being the flat we started at last time?’

‘That’s it. But this time there’s no chance of a vehicle; he’l take the tube to Manor House and walk to the flat.’

‘Easy-peasy,’ said Lesporis. ‘Tel you what, I’l pitch in myself. It’l be good to be on the pavements again.’

‘Could do with a check throughout the evening, though. See if there’s anyone hanging around outside the building.’

‘That’s easy enough. I can put a BT technician in the street and run a PCSO by now and again. I’l have a guy waiting at the Stoke Newington end so one other and me should be enough in the Strand. Do you need pictures?’

‘That would be great, Luke. There’s a snag, though. If Raj is being fol owed then I’l need Harvey checked out too.’

‘Where’s he?’

‘He’s at the London Metropolitan University – Hol oway Road, Islington. He’s in the business school today and I’ve told him to stay there al day. I know it’s al short notice but if Raj is hot then there’s a chance that Harvey is too.’

Lesporis nodded thoughtful y. ‘Not a problem,’ he said. ‘If Raj is tailed from the Strand I’l know pretty quickly, so once we’ve identified the tail I can peel off and head up to Islington. I’l get in place and the others can join me as and when. Do you have any idea who might be after him?’

‘He said Asian so my worry is al-Qaeda.’

‘They have some real pros, but they also have a fair number of amateurs,’ said Lesporis.

‘The guy Raj thinks was fol owing him was almost on top of him, so not a pro. But it’s not the one he saw that I’m worried about; it’s the ones he didn’t see.’

‘Understood,’ said Lesporis, scribbling a note on his pad. He smiled, showing perfect teeth. ‘Consider it done. I’l give you a cal as soon as I know anything.’

‘You’re a star, Luke. Thanks.’

Shepherd’s mobile rang. It was Button. ‘A little bird tel s me that you’re in the house,’ she said.

‘I’m in with Luke, fixing up some counter-surveil ance on Raj and Harvey.’

‘Problem?’

‘I’m not sure. We’l know in a few hours.’

‘Can you pop up to my office on your way out?’

‘I’l be right up. Luke and I are done,’ said Shepherd.

Button was sipping a cup of tea when Shepherd walked into her office. She flashed him a smile and asked if he wanted anything but he shook his head and sat down. ‘I just wanted a chat about what happened on the boat,’ she said.

‘Al good,’ he said.

‘You were shot, Spider.’

‘I was wearing a vest.’

‘Thank God.’

‘Actual y, God had very little to do with it,’ said Shepherd.

‘You nearly died.’

‘I’ve been shot before, Charlie.’

‘I’m just saying you were in a very violent situation and I wanted to check you were okay.’

‘Physical y or mental y?’

She smiled. ‘You know what I’m going to suggest.’

‘A sit-down with Caroline Stockmann?’

‘I think it’s cal ed for. I’l get her to give you a cal and fix it up.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘It’s a pity that it went the way it did,’ she said.

‘You’re tel ing me.’

‘I meant in terms of the investigation. We real y needed to know what Kettering and Thompson were planning.’

‘Thompson wil talk,’ said Shepherd. ‘With Kettering out of the picture he’l sing like the proverbial.’

‘The problem is that Kettering was the top dog. And the fact that he’s dead means his European contacts wil go to ground. We’l sew up the UK

end, that’s a given, but my feeling is that they were part of a bigger plan and that plan is probably going to go ahead no matter what happened here.’

‘I think you’l find that Thompson knows a lot about what was going on,’ said Shepherd. ‘He was the one always mouthing off about the global conspiracy. He’d be the one pushing for coordinated action with the Europeans, I’m sure of it.’

‘We’l certainly give it a go,’ said Button. ‘I tel you, it’s hard enough dealing with the Islamic fundamentalists but when we have home-grown right-wingers threatening terrorist outrages as wel we’re going to be stretched resource-wise.’

‘I don’t know. Penetrating groups like Kettering’s is a lot easier than trying to get into the Islamic cel s.’

‘No argument there,’ said Button. ‘If it wasn’t for Chaudhry and Malik we wouldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve managed so far.’

‘I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite them,’ said Shepherd.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Charlie, they gave up Bin Laden. And by dropping that bloody map the Americans have put their lives on the line.’

‘Is that what the counter-surveil ance is about?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘Raj thinks he’s being fol owed. He might just be jumping at shadows. We’l know by tonight.’

‘Keep me in the picture.’

‘Soon as I know, you’l know,’ said Shepherd.

Malik looked at his watch. It was four o’clock in the afternoon and his last lecture had just finished. He went to the library, which was almost empty, and sat down at a table by the window. He pul ed a bottle of water from his backpack and took a sip. He had three essays to write but couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm for starting any of them so he opened up his laptop and started browsing through YouTube, listening through headphones so as not to disturb the other library-users.

He started off looking at music videos but soon got bored with that. He searched for ‘suicide bombers’ and began looking through the videos, mainly news footage of attacks in Iraq, Israel and Pakistan. There were some comedy videos too, though Malik failed to see why anyone thought it was acceptable to make fun of terrorists.

A girl sat down opposite him and he hurriedly closed the YouTube window, even though she couldn’t see the screen.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?’ She was in her twenties with shoulder-length black curly hair and a wide smile.

Her skin wasn’t quite as dark as Malik’s and though she had a definite accent he couldn’t place where she was from.

‘Sure, yeah, no problem,’ he said. He’d been so busy watching videos that he hadn’t noticed how the library had fil ed up and now most of the tables were occupied. ‘I’m only skiving real y.’

She leaned over the table towards him, her voice a low whisper. ‘Yeah, me too,’ she said. ‘I left my key in the flat and my flatmate won’t be back until eight so I thought I’d just hang out here.’

‘Yeah, it’s one of the few places left in London where you can sit for free,’ he said.

She gestured at his laptop. ‘Were you watching a movie?’

‘Just browsing through YouTube,’ he said. ‘Nothing special.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Harvey. Wel , it’s Harveer but everyone cal s me Harvey.’

‘Harveer? Is that Indian?’

‘Pakistani,’ said Malik.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s no big deal. What about you? Where are you from?’

She grinned mischievously. ‘Guess.’

‘Guess?’ He sat back and linked his fingers. He studied her olive skin, her dark-brown eyes and her jet-black curly hair. Not Asian, he was fairly sure of that. Her skin was too light. Her English was good and there was a trace of an American accent, which probably meant that she’d gone to an international school somewhere. She wasn’t oriental and she wasn’t dark enough to be from the Philippines or Indonesia.

Her smile widened. ‘Do you want a clue?’

‘I’m thinking Lebanese,’ he said. ‘Or one of the Gulf states.’

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Wel done,’ she said. ‘Qatar. No one ever gets where I’m from.’

‘I’ve never been,’ he said. ‘What’s it like?’

‘Hot in the summer. Dusty. Nice restaurants. That’s pretty much it. I prefer London.’

‘Who doesn’t?’ he said.

‘And you study here, right?’

Malik nodded. ‘I’m doing an MBA in Business Studies.’

‘And what was your degree?’

‘Computing.’ He pul ed a face. ‘Hated it, but my dad’s a programmer so he pushed me into it.’

‘So you’re going to work in the City?’

Malik frowned. ‘The City?’

‘That’s what guys with MBAs do, isn’t it? Work for a bank or a broker. Become a master of the universe.’

Malik shook his head. ‘I’m going to open a sushi restaurant. The best sushi restaurant in London. Top end. I’m going to fly in the best fish from around the world and employ only top Japanese chefs.’

‘I love sushi,’ she said.

‘Then you can come to the opening night.’

‘You’re real y going to do it? It must cost a fortune to set up a restaurant.’

‘I’m working on the finances,’ said Malik. ‘But it’s going to happen.’ He leaned forward. ‘So you know my name, what’s yours?’

‘Nadia,’ she said. ‘Hey, are you good with computers?’

‘I studied them for three years,’ said Malik. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘My laptop keeps freezing but I don’t know why. Maybe you could have a look at it some time.’

‘Sure.’ He nodded at her bag. ‘Have you got it with you?’

‘It’s at home. Can I cal you?’

‘You want my number?’

She smiled prettily. ‘That’s normal y how it works, Harvey.’ She took out her mobile phone and looked at him expectantly. He grinned and gave her his number. He hadn’t been thril ed at the idea of spending the evening in the library, but it was turning out to be the best place he could have been. ‘What are you smiling at?’ she asked.

‘Just pleased to meet you,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t planned to be here but I’m glad I came.’

She smiled and nodded. ‘I was thinking exactly the same thing,’ she said.

Chaudhry left King’s at just after five o’clock. He walked along to the tube station at Charing Cross with the hood of his duffel coat up, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. He went down to the platform, took out his Galaxy tablet and began reading, just as he did most days when he was on the tube. John’s instructions had been clear. No looking around, no backtracking, no looking for a tail. And no looking for the counter-surveil ance people either. When the train arrived he managed to find a seat in the middle of the carriage. And he kept his eyes on his tablet.

He stuck to his instructions, and the only time he looked left or right was when he had to cross a road and even then he made a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with anyone nearby. When he got home he got himself a can of Coke from the fridge. He was halfway through it when his phone rang. He looked at the screen. It said ‘Dentist’, which meant it was John Whitehil cal ing.

‘How’s the weather?’ asked Whitehil .

For a moment Chaudhry was confused, but then he remembered the procedure. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I was imagining it, right? Just me being oversensitive.’

‘I’m afraid not. You were being fol owed.’

Chaudhry’s stomach turned over. ‘Shit,’ he said.

‘Two Asians. One in a blue Puffa jacket, just like you said. He was waiting for you outside the university and got on the tube with you. He was in the next carriage. The other guy was waiting for you at Manor House.’

Chaudhry could feel his heart pounding. ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he said. ‘I’m screwed, right?’

‘There’s no need to panic, Raj. You’re at home and we’ve got your flat under surveil ance. Nothing can happen to you while you’re there. I’ve got two men with guns in a car round the corner and they can be with you in seconds.’

‘Where’s Harvey? He should be home by now. You said you talked to him, right?’

‘Raj, take it easy. Harvey’s on his way home. Al the signs are that he’s not being fol owed, but we won’t know for sure until he gets back to the flat. When he does get back, make sure you stay in for the night. No popping out for a takeaway.’

‘I’l be hiding under the bed, mate,’ said Chaudhry.

Shepherd laughed. ‘There’s no need for that,’ he said. ‘Look, it’s probably nothing. Maybe someone that Khalid has sent to check that you’re on the straight and narrow. Make sure you’re not out drinking or letting the side down.’

‘What about the mosque?’ asked Chaudhry. ‘Do you think it’s safe? I mean, I can pray at home, it’s no biggie, but I’d prefer to go to the mosque.’

‘Let’s wait and see what we can find out about your tails,’ said Shepherd.

‘Seriously, I’m shitting myself here.’

‘I understand, Raj. But if there was any question of them intending to harm you it would have happened already. Surveil ance is just that.

Watching. And like I said, so long as you stay put nothing can happen to you.’

‘And you’re not lying about the men with guns? You’ve got armed cops nearby?’

‘I told you I’d never lie to you, Raj. But they’re not cops. They work for MI5. Different rules. They don’t wear uniforms and they don’t make a song and dance about doing what has to be done. In the very unlikely event of anyone trying to do you any harm they’l be straight round and they’l take care of it.’

‘Thanks, John,’ said Chaudhry. He grinned. ‘It’s funny, I know that’s not your real name but I can’t think of you as anything other than John.’

‘John’s fine. A rose by any other name and al that.’

‘Wel , whatever your name is, I’m glad you’ve got my back.’ He ended the cal and switched on the TV. He had studying to do but he couldn’t concentrate so he lay on the sofa and watched the news and then a very unfunny situation comedy about three Americans sharing a flat in New York that seemed to be about five times the size of the one that he and Malik lived in. He got up and opened the fridge but there was nothing in it that he wanted to eat. He found a packet of pistachio nuts in a cupboard and began to eat them, piling the broken shel s on a copy of
The Economist
.

It was just before eight when Chaudhry heard the sound of a key in his lock. He bolted off the sofa and dashed to the kitchen. He grabbed a breadknife from the sink and stood in the kitchen doorway, his heart pounding. The door opened slowly.

‘Harvey, is that you?’

‘Who the bloody hel are you expecting? Ninja assassins?’

The door opened wide and Harvey walked in, shaking his head. Chaudhry ducked back into the kitchen and returned the knife to the sink.

Malik closed the door and tossed his bag on to the floor.

‘Lock it, wil you, mate?’ said Chaudhry. ‘And put the bolt across. Do you want a coffee?’