Shroud of Concealment (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (23 page)

“Why should I lie? After all, I can’t lie about something I don’t know, now can I?”

Her voice was shaky. But she knew it would be foolhardy to mess with them.

“I really don’t know where he is.”

“That’s the wrong answer, and being difficult is not going to help you. We know that you’re the most likely person he’d tell. So it follows that you must know where Dillon is.”

“How quaint. If I did know, do you really think I’d tell you or be cooped up like this? I would most definitely be with him.”

They quickly exchanged glances. The taller one said:

“Miss Linley, we’re trying to help him, he’s in serious danger.”

“Oh really? It’s you who should be helped. Breaking in and scaring the living daylights out of me. Why couldn’t you wait outside like normal civilized people? Never heard of a phone?”

“In our experience, you wouldn’t have responded to a normal request.”

“Well I’m bloody well not responding to this except to tell you to leave at once. I don’t know where Jake is and, if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You must be out of your minds to think that I would.”

“We really don’t want to hurt you, Miss Linley.”

“But you’re going to anyway. It must be simply terrible for you, you sadistic thugs.”

Issy had fully recovered now, her strength of character had returned and she was now really glad that Dillon had not told her where he was. He’d anticipated something like this to happen and she now fully understood his worst fears without rancour. Jake was Jake and she knew what she had entered into. She also understood why Tatiana had given him an ultimatum; their relationship or the job. She knew that he still felt the pain, but he was a realist, and so was she.

“If you won’t talk to us here, Miss Linley, then you’ll have to come with us.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” said the man who had so far left the talking entirely to his northern friend. He pulled out a pistol and quickly attached a silencer to it. Waving it towards the open doorway he continued, “You can walk out to our car, quietly. Or, we will drug you and carry you out.”

“Oh my God, I don’t believe this is actually happening to me. This is quite insufferable. And don’t you think you’re being just a little bit melodramatic? I’m not leaving this flat and that’s final.”

“These situations are always difficult, and we don’t much care for the methods either. But they do get the job done, Miss Linley. Old fashioned they might be, but tried and tested they are. Now what’s it to be? Walk out of here in a dignified manner. Or would you prefer the needle? However, I must tell you that if you decide not to be sensible I cannot guarantee your well-being. You see, my friend over there has a liking for the more mature women. Unfortunately for you, he also has a sexual inadequacy complex. You see, he is only able to perform when his victim is in an unconscious state.” His eyes shifted slyly sideways.

Issy picked up a vase and hurled it towards them but it missed by a mile and was a futile gesture anyway.

“It would seem that my little warning hasn’t had the desired effect. The needle it is then,” said the man with the badly disguised northern accent.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Dillon spent the following morning running to ground a Detective Sergeant he knew in the Metropolitan Police, who managed to wangle access to the original Brinks Mat robbery files. Dillon was in the archive room for most of the afternoon and after three and half hours felt weary from going through the mountains of records, witness statements, and masses of intelligence that had been gathered over the years. He eventually emerged into the sunshine and headed straight to the nearest pub for a drink and a meal before heading back to The Old Colonial Club. He took his time because there was nothing more he could do until the next morning. He wanted a lot more information than he already had before returning to Dorset.

Eventually, he arrived at the club at around 9.00 p.m, tired and in need of a long hot bath. He phoned Issy, and it was Issy’s friend, Grace, who answered the phone and told him that Issy wasn’t in. Did she know where she’d gone, or what time she was coming back? As far as Grace knew she should have been there when she’d got home; they were supposed to have been going out to dinner that evening. Dillon apologised for disturbing her evening and then said he’d call round. He dressed and left the club.

Dillon had only ever met Grace once before, but remembered that she worked for a prominent firm of stockbrokers in the city, had the figure of a catwalk model and a wicked sense of humour which she put on hold when Dillon arrived. She knew something wasn’t quite right when Issy had asked her if she could stay for a few days – that Dillon’s work meant that he sometimes moved in murky waters and that it was far safer not to ask any questions. Now she was as worried as Dillon.

Dillon casually glanced around the room for anything odd.

“Have you checked around to see whether anything is out of place?”

“That’s the oddest thing. I’m pretty sure the place was in a bit of a muddle this morning when I left. But when I arrived home it was as if professional cleaners had been in.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure. I can tell you that this place very rarely looks as good as this.”

“But was everything as you’d expect it to be? Was anything missing or out of place?”

Grace looked worried. “Wait a minute. Do I understand you right? You’re thinking that someone has been in here and then taken her off against her will?”

“It could be, and there are reasons why it’s a possibility. Forgive me for not telling you. It would do you more harm than good if you knew. I admit that it’s something I thought could possibly happen, but never in a million years thought would actually happen.”

Grace had spotted something, saying, “There’s one thing obviously different in this room. A small vase is usually over there on the side table by that chair, but I can’t see it anywhere. Of course it might have been placed somewhere else, but it’s not a very big room, as you can see.”

“Have you got a torch?”

When Grace produced one he went to the front door and closely examined the area around the lock barrel as well as the lock itself. What he found didn’t surprise him – there were scratches around it, some of them deep.

“I’d guess that they picked the lock and and were waiting for her,” he said mostly for his own benefit.

Grace clutched her arms round herself. “That gives me the creeps. What if they decide to come back?”

Dillon gave her his best reassuring smile. “I very much doubt whether they would risk that. And to be honest with you, Grace, it was Issy they were after. Would you mind if I used your phone?”

Dillon rang Havelock disregarding any chance that his phone was tapped or that Grace was listening over his shoulder.

“I think they’ve got Issy,” he blurted out immediately. “I also think that MI5 did it, and if those bastards are listening in they’d better give her back now or I’m going to light a fire under their can and then watch them jump out one by one. Dunstan, use your bloody authority and do something your end.”

“And if it’s not the security service?”

Dillon had thought it through.

“It is. They have better tabs on all Ferran & Cardini field officers and their friends than Hart and Trevelyan put together. They know all about this assignment and for reasons that none of us know about. They want me to hand myself in to them for a little chat and to pull back from the investigation. The fact is, Dunstan, they don’t like playing second best to us mainly because that’s what they are.”

“The others are looking for you too, Jake,” Havelock said quietly. He fully appreciated how Dillon was feeling.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dunstan. Maybe there’s a way I can find out. Do your best.”

He hung up and turning back to Grace, said, “It’s really not as bad as it sounds. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to phone you each day just in case Issy turns up here.”

“Can’t I call you?”

“No, it would be too dangerous for you. It’ll be best if I contact you.”

Shrewdly Grace said, “It didn’t do Issy any good not having your number, did it?”

Dillon went through to the front door, started to open it, turned and said, “That was a low blow, Grace, but point taken. If I hear anything myself I’ll let you know immediately. Thanks for your help.”

Sitting in the Porsche, he used his mobile phone to call Charlie Hart who answered almost at once. He had long since accepted that as Hart used his phone so freely that he must feel confident with the security setup.

“It’s Jake Dillon. I need an honest answer to a simple question.”

“I was just thinking of you. How, had we met under different circumstances, we might not have ended up as enemies.”

“Possibly. But it was you who made us enemies. I would have happily backed off, but you wouldn’t accept my word of honour. It’s too late now. They’ve taken Isabel Linley. I want her back.”

“Isabel?”

“Someone has kidnapped her. Obviously to push me into a corner. Do you know anything about it?”

“Would you expect me to tell you if I did?”

“Yes. I think you would. In exchange for me.”

“I really cannot recall ever using a woman as hostage. I didn’t know she was in the firing line. I really can’t help you, Jake.”

“Would you know if Trevelyan had ordered it?”

“I suppose I could flatly deny knowing anyone of that name, but that would be insulting you, wouldn’t it? I am being truthful with you, Jake, when I tell you that I do not know anything about your friend being abducted against her will. It changes nothing between us, of course.”

“But would Trevelyan do it without your knowledge?” Dillon persisted.

“You’re a very persistent fellow and I really do not know why I’m even talking to you. He might do it without my knowledge, but I would have expected to hear almost immediately afterwards. If it was done to flush you out into the open, I most certainly would have been informed. I repeat, I know nothing of this.”

“Okay, I accept what you’re saying and I apologise for disturbing your evening. Thanks anyway.”

Dillon was about to hang up when Hart said quickly.

“We will get you, Jake. Don’t mistake a liking for a weakness. In my world I cannot afford to be weak. I think you know that. And we can’t mark time forever – you’re going to find out just how much the stakes are stacked against you.”

“Well you haven’t told me anything new, Charlie. Life is never simple and to be honest, you’re right. Like you, I can’t afford to be weak. How do you think I’ve survived all these years for Queen and country? What do you expect me to do? Give myself up?”

“I could have easily said that we have the girl; would you have given yourself up then?”

“Oh, most definitely. You see Charlie, I have this old-fashioned belief: a life for a life. Issy’s life is worth saving far more than mine.”

Dillon laughed, and then said, “You’ve just missed a never-to-be-repeated golden opportunity, you know?”

Hart sighed heavily. “That would be too easy, Jake. But it is not solely my decision. We make strange enemies, don’t we?”

“I believe we do. Thanks for your candour, Charlie.”

Dillon hung up, satisfied that Hart had told him the truth.

He had a restless night. His mind kept churning over, not allowing him to relinquish to sleep. He couldn’t tell any of his contacts in the police – their hands would be instantly bound by MI5 if they were to open an investigation of any kind against any of the four men involved. For reasons he did not understand, he knew the security service were up to no good and that they wanted him locked up the minute he showed his face at any of his regular haunts. If he showed up at Ferran & Cardini that would put the firm in an awkward position also. He was on his own. He had always been on his own.

The next morning he rang Havelock who at once told him that MI5 had absolutely no knowledge of Isabel’s disappearance. But that they were eager to meet with him and believed they could effectively help find her.

“All they want, Dunstan, is to lure me into a trap,” Dillon said bitterly, certain that they were listening.

“What the hell for? And whose side are they on anyway? They’ve always got a hidden agenda and I don’t believe for one moment that they just want me out of the way because of a list of names and addresses.”

“I’m not in a position to force them into coming clean, particularly if they are telling the truth. They only talk to me as a favour – I have no real pull with them. But who has these days? Even the Prime Minister doesn’t know the half of it.”

“What do they want me to do apart from walking through their doors and handing myself in?”

“There’s a man called Brendon Morgan. I have a private mobile number for you to ring. You’ll have to take it from there.”

Dillon scribbled the number onto the back of an envelope.

“Why don’t I just talk to the guy whose listening in to this conversation? After all, it would most likely be a lot easier. I don’t like doing business this way, Dunstan, but if that’s all you’ve got to offer I’ll give him a call.”

Dillon hung up and looked at the number Havelock had given him, well aware that they would try and fix his position the moment he called it. He slipped quietly out of The Old Colonial Club and went to the nearest public bus stop. Five minutes later he was sitting on the top deck of a London tour bus. He dialled the number and was not surprised when it was answered after the first ring.

“Brendon Morgan?” Dillon was suspicious before he started, constantly scanning for anyone watching him too closely.

“Jake Dillon? I’m so glad you called. Can we meet somewhere?”

“For what reason?”

“I understand your friend Isabel Linley has gone missing. I thought we might be of assistance to you in locating her. I’ve already cleared it with your boss.”

“You’ve spoken to Edward Levenson-Jones?”

“Of course, merely as a matter of courtesy, old son. After all, he was one of us once upon a time.”

“Bullshit. He wouldn’t give you the time of day. But it’s intriguing me why you would want to get involved in something like a kidnapping when the police could so easily handle it.”

“Oh, come now, Dillon. Stop pissing about. We help you locate your woman in exchange for information you might have that would help us on another issue.”

“Dunstan Havelock knows what I know about whatever it is you want to know. Why don’t you simply ask him?”

“Well, in the first instance we doubt very much whether Mr. Havelock knows everything you know. He may be in receipt of the bare bones, but you will have kept back crucial facts because that’s how you’ve been trained to work. You like to be sure of everything and that is what makes you such a good field operative. Secondly, Mr. Havelock is far too close to the Home Secretary for us to apply crude pressure. If he chose not to tell us, there is virtually nothing we can do.”

“Why not just snatch his wife like you have Issy? Or you could just fabricate some sort of scandal and then blackmail him. Your lot are extremely proficient at that. I’m surprised you haven’t tried that one on me yet. It’s like this, Brendon. I don’t trust you – it’s that simple. So what have you done with Issy, and what is it going to take to have her released?”

“As I’ve already said, Jake, we do not go around snatching innocent people out of their homes or straight off the street. You of all people should know that. All we want is to compare notes relating to your current assignment. You can name the meeting place and we’ll be there.”

“I bet you will. Along with an armed response unit at the very least. I tell you what, Brendon, I’ll think it over and ring you later.”

Dillon hung up and looked at the call duration. Two minutes and fifty seconds. Under three minutes and not enough time to trace him on the top of the moving bus. He switched off his phone and got off the bus at the next stop. He got straight into a taxi and headed back in the direction he’d just come from. During the short journey he pondered on whether he’d done the right thing. If MI5 had Issy, he was sure that she would not come to any harm. They must be satisfied by now that she really did not know anything or, more importantly, where he was. And although she was a prisoner, she would be fairly well looked after. Issy’s biggest worry would be in not knowing who her captors were, although she might by now have made an educated guess.

In spite of his concern for her he decided to take a chance. If the security service had her, she was perfectly safe from Trevelyan. If Trevelyan had her, he could not afford the time to have a cosy chat to MI5 simply so they could pick his brains. They clearly thought that he had information they could use. He knew that he was placing enormous trust in Hart and that it was a risky strategy. This whole business was risky.

He went to The Guardian offices and looked through their back issues for 2005. It was a laborious task, made worse because he wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly or that it would be there. If he knew that, the staff could most likely have pin-pointed the relevant issues for him.

By lunchtime he’d had enough and went out to find something to eat. He returned half an hour later to continue and found something of interest dated November 17, 2005. He made some notes, realising that what he’d found might be totally irrelevant and could be considered as potentially misleading and therefore to be used with caution. It was late afternoon before he left, and he considered it good luck that he’d found the issue so quickly.

He phoned Havelock again at his office, because now that MI5 had disclosed their interest, any phone tap from that source would have been removed for fear it could create a stir if discovered. Although the home phone would almost certainly still be monitored, as a matter of routine. He briefed Havelock about his discussion with Brendon Morgan and explained that all MI5 wanted was to trade information in return for Issy. That he’d declined to meet with them for the time being, which put Havelock on edge and made him slightly irritated, not wishing to go as far as Dillon in his appraisal of the security service’s devilishness. Dillon asked Havelock to keep up the pressure on them because he was convinced they were holding Issy somewhere in the city.

He hoped that he was right about Havelock’s office phone not being tapped, but the time had long gone for being overly cautious. He knew that he was becoming reckless but he doubted that he had said anything that they didn’t already know. As Havelock’s home was obviously under twenty-four hour surveillance, it would be impossible for him to call there in person again, whatever the disguise.