[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

more respect for the . . .
Another photograph landed on the desk, then another. They
were the photographs supplied to Commander Trilling by SIS,
the ones which had accompanied the slides. The Dutchman saw
himself again and again, in different places, different situations,
in conversation with different people, and all during different
operations.
Then Elder spoke.
 We want to know what she s planning, and we want to know
where she is. We want to know quickly.
The Dutchman met Elder s eyes for a dull second.
 What are you talking about? he said.  I m a tourist.
 No, you re not. We both know what you are. The authori-
ties in several countries would like to speak with you. Most of
them are less law-abiding than we are. They wouldn t hesitate to
use . . . well, whatever means they see fit, to pry information
from you. Elder paused to let this sink in.  If you don t tell us
where she is and what she s intending to do, I ll see to it that
you re handed over to the least . . . the least hesitant country pos-
sible. Speak to us now, and you ll be kept here in the UK. Do you
understand?
 I demand my rights. I demand a lawyer, I demand to see
someone from the Dutch Embassy. This is illegal.
 Under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, very little is illegal.
But then, I d have thought you d have read up on that particular
document.
Elder rose to his feet, had a word with the guards, and left
the room. Greenleaf followed him in silence. The guards stayed.
300
Witch Hunt
 Will anyone give me a cigarette, please? asked the Dutch-
man.
 We don t smoke, said one policeman.
Outside, Elder was talking in an undertone.  We ll have him
transferred to Paddington Green. The security here isn t good
enough.
 You think they may try to spring him?
Elder shook his head.  Not spring him, no. He s a gofer, a
go-between. It s late on in the operation now. He s probably
expendable. But they may try to kill him.
 What?
Elder nodded.  He won t know much in any case, but these
people, whoever it is who s hired Witch, I shouldn t think they
like loose ends. And that s what we need to play on.
 Get him scared?
 Right, not scared of us, scared of his bosses  present and
past. So that we become his only protection.
Greenleaf was impressed.  You sound like you ve done this
sort of thing before.
Elder smiled.  That s because I have, John. We sweat him,
then, if he hasn t told us anything, we tell him we re going to put
out an announcement that he s singing like a bird. Singing in
return for his freedom. We tell him the announcement s gone
out, then we say we re  
 Letting him go.
Elder nodded.  Funny, they never want to go, given the
chance. They d rather stay. But the price of staying, the price of
protection, is that they tell us everything anyway.
 Nice.
Elder shrugged.  He s been around. He may not fall for it.
We may actually have to issue the announcement. And it all takes
time.
 Time we may not have.
 Exactly. So let s get him over to Paddy Green straightaway,
before Witch learns we ve got him.
 One thing, Dominic. Greenleaf only called him Dominic
when Doyle wasn t around.  What did he have on him in the
wine bar?
301
Ian Rankin
 Good point. Let s take a look.
The Dutchman s possessions were in an envelope in the desk
sergeant s locked drawer. The desk sergeant himself tipped the
contents onto the surface of his desk.
 Not much, he said.
No, not much. Cash . . . just under a hundred pounds in
notes, plus some small change. The notes were crisp and clean.
 Better check they re not forgeries, said Greenleaf.
Passport in the name of Hans Breuckner, occupation:
schoolteacher. No visas.
 We ll check that, too, said Greenleaf.  See what the Dutch
think of it.
 I can tell you now what they ll think of it, John. It ll be a for-
gery. Either that or stolen, but a forgery s my bet.
 Do we know where he was living? asked Greenleaf.
 He hasn t said.
 Maybe this will tell us. Greenleaf was pointing to a
small key.
 It s not a room key or house key, though, is it? said Elder.
 Looks more like the sort you use to lock a petrol cap.
 Bit too big for that, said Greenleaf.  Not a car key, though.
My guess would be a lockup.
 A lockup?
 You know, a garage. I used to live in a block of flats, we all
had a garage down near the road. And we all opened our garages
with a key like this.
Elder examined it more closely.  It s British, by the look of it.
You think he s got a flat, then?
 No, or he d have a key for it, too. I think he s rented a
garage. Maybe he s been holing up in it, maybe he s just using it
for storage while he lives elsewhere.
 Storage . . . now what would he be storing in a garage?
Elder looked up.  I m glad you came, John.
Greenleaf shrugged.  Doyle would ve told you the same
thing.
 But he didn t. You did.
There wasn t much else of interest: a one-day travel card, a
302
Witch Hunt
tube map, and two pages pulled from an A Z, showing the center
of London from Bloomsbury to Victoria to the Elephant and
Castle to Farringdon.
 Can t see any markings, said Greenleaf.  Can you?
 No, said Elder.  But maybe there are pressure points where
a pencil or something s been pressed against the page. Better get
it into an evidence bag and let forensics take a look. You know we
got some glasses?
 Glasses?
 And a bottle. Our Dutch friend was nabbed in a wine bar.
 That much I knew.
 He d been drinking with a young woman. The barman s
given us a description.
 Witch s latest incarnation?
 Maybe. Anyway, there were two glasses on the table. We ve
got them.
 So maybe we ll end up with Witch s prints?
 If nothing else, yes. Not that we ve got anything to match
them against. Elder turned to the desk sergeant.  Can we have
an evidence bag for this map?
 Right away, sir.
Elder turned back to Greenleaf.  Give me an educated
guess, he said.  How long to check every lockup in the London
area?
 An educated guess? Greenleaf did some calculations.
 About four and a half months. Elder smiled.  That s always
supposing, Greenleaf went on,  we were given the manpower,
which is doubtful anyway. All the time I m on Operation Broom-
stick, the caseload s just growing higher and higher on my desk.
It s not going to go away.
 It ll soon be over, Elder said quietly.  One way or the
other, it ll soon be finished.
The desk sergeant, returning with a clear plastic bag, was
chuckling and shaking his head.
 What s the joke? asked Greenleaf, taking the bag from the
desk sergeant. He held it open so Elder could drop the map
inside.
303
Ian Rankin
 Oh, nothing really. Just some of the lads. Two would-be
muggers, big bastards by the sound of them, they picked on this
slip of a girl near Covent Garden. Only, she d been to self-
defense classes. Gave them a terrible pasting the way the lads are
telling it. He chuckled again, not noticing the fixed way in
which Elder and Greenleaf were staring at one another.
 Did you happen to speak with her? Elder asked calmly.
 Speak to her? She was here in the station till half an hour
ago. He saw the look on Dominic Elder s face.  What s the mat-
ter? You look like you ve seen a ghost.
Barclay sat that afternoon at his old desk in his old office. It
seemed like an eternity since he d last been there. He found it
hard to believe that in the past he d been satisfied with just his
information base and his computer console. He was itching to be [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]