Page 94 of End Game
He looked down at the dog snoozing by the back door and said, ‘Can you keep a secret, Peel, because I’m going to tell you what the headline might have been: Chinese Terrorist Killed at Closing Ceremony by Decorated Police Officer. Hundreds of Lives Saved.’
The dog wagged its tail.
The phone rang a second time, and he picked it up to hear Ross’s wife, Alice, asking if he knew why her husband hadn’t come home last night.
•••
Miles joined Booth Watson at the Savoy for a late breakfast. A stack of the morning papers was piled on a chair by Booth Watson’s side. He had been pleased to find his client’s name didn’t get a mention from the first page to the last.
‘So you finally took my advice,’ he said, once his client had unfolded his napkin and tucked it under his chin.
‘Reluctantly,’ admitted Miles.
The maître d’ poured him a steaming cup of black coffee. ‘Your usual, Mr Faulkner?’
‘The full English,’ confirmed Miles.
‘I’m glad to hear you finally saw sense,’ said Booth Watson, once the maître d’ had departed, ‘because I’ve scoured all the morning papers, and there’s nothing to suggest that the closing ceremony was anything but a resounding success.’
The look on Faulkner’s face didn’t suggest he was in agreement.
Booth Watson’s mobile began to purr. He was about to reject the call when he saw the three letters that had appeared on his screen. ‘I have to take this,’ he said. ‘It concerns you.’
Miles watched as the suggestion of a smile appeared on his lawyer’s face. The smile became broader by the second, until it was positively beaming by the time he ended the call.
‘That was the CPS,’ said Booth Watson, ‘phoning to let me know they’ll be dropping all the charges against you.’
Miles didn’t look surprised. Much as he detested the man, he had to admit Commander Warwick kept his word.
‘That’s cause for celebration, don’t you think?’ said Booth Watson, raising his coffee cup.
‘Try not to forget, BW, what I’ve had to sacrifice in exchange for—’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Booth Watson. ‘Everyone involved in yesterday’s failed attack will now be running for cover. Don’t forget that the Hermitage exhibition ends this evening, and I’ve already arranged for the painting to be collected from the Fitzmolean first thing in the morning. When I called the director to confirm, there wasn’t any suggestion she’d been instructed otherwise.’
A smile finally appeared on Faulkner’s face, only to disappear when he recalled Petrov’s threat of what would happen to him should he ever betray them. However, now that Sun Anqi was no longer in the picture, and the rest of the team, to quote Booth Watson, would be running for cover, perhaps he’d got the best of bothworlds. ‘And equally important,’ said Booth Watson, interrupting his thoughts, ‘it will no longer be necessary for you to pack your bags and leave for the States.’
‘Which also means,’ said Miles, ‘that I can take my place on the board of the Fitzmolean and start working on my next coup.’
Booth Watson could only admire how deftly Miles somehow managed to move on to his next venture, without appearing to draw breath. ‘And your Will?’ he asked.
‘Can remain in favour of the Fitzmolean until I’m safely ensconced in the chair, when …’
Booth Watson’s mobile began to vibrate once again. ‘It’s Bernie Longe,’ he said, when he saw the name appear on the screen.
‘He obviously hasn’t been able to raise the rest of the money required to purchase the stadium before the deadline runs out, so that’s two birds that can be killed with one stone.’ Miles put down his coffee, looked across at Booth Watson and said, ‘Don’t answer the phone. Let him sweat for a little longer.’
Booth Watson switched off his mobile.
•••
Twelve chimes struck out across Westminster as the team took their places around the large, circular table in the Assistant Commissioner’s office. There were two vacant places: Ross’s and Jackie’s. All eyes lingered on Jackie’s empty seat when the Hawk called the meeting to order.
‘Welcome back to the real world,’ he said. ‘Let me begin by telling you that earlier this morning I received a call from the Home Secretary to congratulate all those concerned withthe security of the Games, which, in her words “went off without a hitch”. I sometimes wonder,’ he added, ‘if our masters in Whitehall have any idea what goes on behind closed doors without their knowledge?’
A wry smile appeared on William’s face, but he didn’t offer an opinion.
The Hawk listened intently as each of his officers presented their reports. None of them mentioned why Ross Hogan was not at the meeting.
