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Bennett said, ‘We had gales last winter. Nothing very serious, but one fellow lost a panel out of his fence, and another lost a twenty-foot conifer. Which by chance opened up a direct line of sight from this shed to Little Joey’s house. Which was lucky, because we can’t get any closer. We assume his immediate neighbours are either working for him or loyal to him or scared of him.’

‘So this little shed is surveillance HQ for Joey?’

‘You get what you get.’

‘You sit for hours with your back to the door?’

‘Take it up with whichever carpenter died fifty years ago.’

‘With the key under a rock?’

‘It’s a budget issue. It’s the sort of thing they suggest. Why not share a key instead of cutting ten? So they can buy a new computer.’

‘No video?’

‘That kind of thing, they like to spend money on. Wireless upload straight out of the binoculars. All day and all night. High definition, but monochrome.’

‘Does the bowling club know you’re here?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Good,’ I said. I figured swearing a busybody committee chairman to silence was like taking out an ad in the newspaper.

Nice said, ‘Suppose they come in to play a game of bowls?’

Bennett said, ‘We changed the lock. That one is ours, not theirs. They’ll think there’s something wrong with their keys. They’ll call a meeting. They’ll vote on whether to spend club funds on a locksmith. They’ll make speeches for and against. By which time either it won’t matter any more, or we’ll have changed the lock back again and gone home happy.’

I said, ‘How well can we see from here?’

He said, ‘Take a look.’

So I shuffled in, and sat down on the middle stool, and took a look.

THIRTY-EIGHT

CLEARLY THE BINOCULARS
had some kind of fantastic high technology in them, because the image was spectacular. Not all green and grainy like I was used to, but liquid and silvery and endlessly precise. I was looking at a house about four hundred yards away, at an angle of about forty-five degrees. I could see the front, and all of one side, in large segments, through the bays of an iron fence, which was built on a brick knee-wall, and divided into sections by occasional brick pillars. The effect was reasonably grand, and I was sure the expenditure had been saner than the lunatic scheme at Wallace Court.

The house itself was a large, solid thing, made of brick, made to look Georgian or Palladian or whatever other kind of a symmetrical style was currently in vogue. It was completely conventional. It had a roof, and windows, and doors, in the right numbers, in all the right places. It was like a kid had been given paper and crayons and told to draw a house.
Good, now add more rooms
. It had an in-and-out driveway, in through one electric gate and out the other. The driveway was made of blocks that looked silvery but might have been brick-coloured. There was a small black sports car crouched near the door, parked at an angle, as if it had arrived in a hurry.

I sat back.

I said, ‘That’s Little Joey’s house?’

Bennett said, ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Great line of sight.’

‘We got lucky.’

‘He designed it himself?’

‘One of his many talents.’

‘It looks like every other house.’

Bennett said, ‘Guess again.’

I sat forward. I took a second look. Roof tiles, bricks, windows, doors, rainwater gutters, all arranged in a boxy rectangular structure filling most of its lot. I said, ‘What am I looking for?’

Bennett said, ‘Start with the Bentley.’

‘I don’t see it.’

‘It’s right there by the door.’

‘No, that’s something else. It’s much smaller than the Bentley.’

‘No, the house is much bigger.’

‘Than a car?’

‘Than a normal house. Little Joey is six feet eleven inches tall. Eight-foot ceilings don’t appeal to him. Regular doorways make him stoop. That house is a normal house, except every dimension on every blueprint was increased by fifty per cent. All in perfect proportion. Like it had swollen up, uniformly. The opposite of a doll’s house. An exact replica, but bigger, not smaller. The doors are more than nine feet high. The ceilings are way up there.’

I looked again, and focused on the car, and forced myself to see it for the size it really was, whereupon the house did exactly what Bennett had said. It swelled up, in perfect proportion. An exact replica, but bigger.

Not a doll’s house. A giant’s house.

I sat back.

I said, ‘What do regular people look like, when they go in and out?’

Bennett said, ‘Like dolls.’

Casey Nice squeezed behind me, and sat on a stool, and took a look for herself.

I said, ‘Tell me what you’ve seen so far.’

Bennett said, ‘First of all remember where we are. We’re right next to the motorway up to East Anglia, and right next to the M25, where we can go either east or west, or we could go the other way, and be lost in the East End ten minutes from now. It’s a plausible centre for operations. That’s why they all check in here. Not just because Joey is a control freak. He came to them. That’s why he built his house here, I’m sure of it. He thinks a good boss is always on top of every detail.’

‘Who have you seen checking in here?’

‘Lots of people. But we can explain them all.’

‘Talk me through it.’

‘We knew something was about to happen, because Joey suddenly doubled his personal guard. At the time we didn’t know why, but now we guess that was when Kott and Carson made their initial contact, before the job in Paris. And now they’re here, as promised, and they need guards of their own, and food, and entertainment, all of which would come through here.’

‘Even if they’re hiding far away?’

‘Far away for Joey Green means the other side of the M25. We’re not talking about the Highlands of Scotland. Thirty minutes from here is the remotest place Joey ever heard of.’

‘But you’re not seeing it?’

Bennett shook his head, no. He said, ‘We would expect a consistent pattern, something extra, laid on top of their normal activity, but we’re not getting it. There are occasional stray vehicles, and we track them as far as we can. We’ve even done computer simulations, based on which way they’re heading. They never go anywhere useful.’

Beside me Casey Nice said, ‘Maybe Kott and Carson went back to France, to wait. Much less vulnerability there, wouldn’t you think? Because we’re looking for them here. Maybe this is a just-in-time thing. Maybe they’re planning a last-minute return. Which would explain what you’re seeing. Or not seeing. People who aren’t actually here at the moment wouldn’t need feeding.’

Bennett said, ‘Why would they risk the lockdown? That would be unprofessional.’

I said, ‘Which Carson isn’t, right?’

‘Is Kott?’

‘Kott would look at the lockdown like he looks at everything else. Distance, wind, elevation. All the data. He wouldn’t risk it, because he couldn’t predict it. Lockdowns are about emotion, not reason. I think Kott has been inside for days.’

‘So do we. But there’s no pattern here. Just the normal comings and goings.’

I said, ‘Is Joey home right now?’

‘Of course he is. His car is outside.’

I sat forward again, and looked. The immense door, dwarfing the car. The townhouse windows, as big as billiard tables. I said, ‘Maybe Kott and Carson are someplace where they don’t need Joey’s guys to bring them food. Maybe they’re ordering out. For pizza, or chicken, or cheeseburgers. Or kebabs. This part of town seems to have plenty of choice. Or maybe they’re both on a diet. And maybe they don’t want hookers.’

‘Kott was in prison fifteen years. He’s got a lot of catching up to do.’

‘Maybe the meditation straightened him out and made him pure of heart.’

‘They’d need guards, come what may. Partly because they need to rest and sleep, but also because Joey likes to put on a show. Four guys at a time, minimum, which is twelve guys a day. They’d rotate through here. No other way of doing it. For briefing, and debriefing. Joey is big on debriefing. The more he knows, the better he feels. Information is king. He’d want to know all their secrets. Might be useful in the future. The Karel Libor thing is going to start a fashion. They’re all going to want their own pet sniper.’

I said, ‘What does Joey do for food?’

‘He’s getting his deliveries as normal.’

‘Does he eat a lot?’

‘Twice as much as me. He’s twice the size. A van goes around the back to the kitchen. Sometimes twice a day. God forbid a gangster should have to go to the supermarket.’

‘Does he sample his hookers?’

‘He’s been known to give the fresh meat a run-out. But not often. He likes it rough. No good if his new stars are marked up for the first few weeks. So mostly he heads for the other end of the pipeline. He finishes off the used-up ones.’

‘Any recent increase in frequency?’

‘There are always hills and valleys.’

Beside me Casey Nice said, ‘Why haven’t you arrested him?’

‘The last time a witness spoke up against the Romford Boys was before you were born.’

I kept my eyes on the binoculars. Nothing was happening. The scene was static. I said, ‘So what are your theories?’

‘Some of us are thinking this cooperation with the Serbians might go back a month. Maybe that initial approach from Kott and Carson was a joint approach. In which case it would make sense to let the Serbians shelter them. Safer that way. We’re all over east London, for obvious reasons, and meanwhile they’re stashed way out in west London. Classic misdirection.’

‘Joey wouldn’t get his debriefs.’

‘That’s the main weakness in the theory. We think he could live with not knowing their secrets, because you don’t miss what you never had. But he couldn’t live with the Serbians getting them instead. Which emotion comes out on top? The behavioural psychology subcommittee is debating it now.’

‘The what?’

‘The behavioural psychology subcommittee.’

‘Anything else?’

‘The conventional in-house wisdom says we know there’s a safe house somewhere, and the problem is solved the minute we find it. London is full of cameras and recognition software, and we have a mass of real-time traffic data, and we’ve got the programmers working hard, and the analysts harder still.’

‘Who are all smart people, right?’

‘Very smart.’

‘Which is why you’re better than the NSA, right?’

‘And cheaper.’

I sat back.

I said, ‘I’m wondering why you brought us here. You could have just told us. You could have said, Joey has a house and nothing happens there.’

‘We’re sharing the data.’

‘You’re overcomplicating the data. Or blowing smoke.’

‘How so?’

‘To tell you that I would have to believe what you say.’

‘Why wouldn’t you?’

‘It’s a simple chain of logic, but I have to trust each component.’

‘Why wouldn’t you?’ he said again.

‘Those things you told us earlier. You have a no-humansinvolved protocol, with different procedures. You’re hacking our phones right now, as individuals. You’re hacking CIA communications generally. You could listen to the hot line into the Oval Office, if you wanted to, but you don’t, simply because of good manners. If all of that is true, then all of it has to be classified. You talk about it, you get sent to the Tower of London. You get your head cut off. Or whatever the modern equivalent is. A life sentence for treason.’

‘I’m not going to jail.’

‘Because?’

‘I wasn’t telling you anything I got from inside the building.’

‘What building?’

‘Any building.’

‘So what are you telling us?’

‘You know how it is. There are a million stories and a million rumours. Most of them are bullshit. But there are always three or four that could be true. But they’re all contradictory. So you use your hard-won skill and insider judgement and you decide which one to believe in.’

‘Why should you believe in any of them?’

‘Because one of them is bound to be true.’

‘Hacking our phones is neither a story nor a rumour. It’s a fact.’

‘It’s a small fact. And the small facts we know can be indicative of the bigger facts we don’t know. All part of the reasoning process. If we attack low-level American assets, why wouldn’t we attack high-level American assets? It’s all the same electricity in the same wires. And if we attack high-level assets, why wouldn’t we listen to the Oval Office?’

‘Therefore the things you told us were merely theories you believe in.’

‘I can’t prove them.’

‘But?’

‘I know they’re true.’

‘Because?’

‘Human nature,’ he said. ‘You know how it is. Whatever your intentions, if you have the ability to do something, then you will do it, sooner or later. The temptation is always there, and it can’t be resisted for ever. Don’t tell me you think any different.’

‘What about the other things you told us?’

‘Like what?’

‘You think Kott and Carson are definitely in London.’

‘Hundred per cent certain.’

‘Based on your skill and insider judgement?’

‘Everything I know says they’re here.’

‘And they’re being guarded, and fed, and entertained by the Romford Boys.’

‘It’s how things are done. The courtesies are very elaborate.’

‘Hundred per cent certain?’

He said, ‘More than.’

‘And the guards and the food and the entertainment would be quarterbacked by Joey himself.’

‘No question about that. Hundred per cent.’

‘But no one is dashing back and forth between Joey’s house and wherever.’

‘And that’s not just my belief. That’s a fact.’

I said, ‘Ms Nice and I had a conversation. The whole British government is getting nowhere. So how likely is it a rookie analyst and a retired military cop are going to provide the vital breakthrough?’

Bennett said nothing.

‘But I guess you want it to look that way. You want it to be one of us who comes out and says it. So you can act all surprised. To ease your conscience a little.’

He said nothing.

‘A simple chain of logic,’ I said again. ‘Kott and Carson are in London, the Romford Boys are hiding them, but there’s no traffic in and out of Little Joey’s driveway.’