Page 57 of End Game
‘So when I read in theSunwhich athlete has been disqualified, I’m rather assuming he or she won’t be unknown.’
Neither Miles nor Booth Watson offered an opinion.
‘The process itself is simple enough. After a race is over, all the competitors who advance to the next round have to give either a blood or urine sample, and should they fail, they are automatically disqualified – as happened in Seoul in 1988 when Ben Johnson failed his drug test and Carl Lewis was awarded the gold medal in his place. These days, the tests are far more sophisticated, and all the samples have to be witnessed by a qualified Samples Collection Officer, who cannot come from the same country as the person being tested.’
‘So what are the new rules?’ asked Booth Watson, still making notes.
‘Any athlete who makes it to the next round has to urinate into a receptacle supplied by the authorities, witnessed by the SCO. The urine is then transferred into two small bottles for testing: A and B. If bottle A fails the test, they then test bottle B, and if both show an illegal substance has been taken, the athlete concerned is automatically disqualified.’
Booth Watson continued to take notes.
‘Once the sample bottles have been sealed and labelled,’ Longe continued, ‘they are sent to a drug-testing centre in Harlow, where tests are carried out by a team of scientists led by a Professor Cowan, a man who cannot be bribed.’
‘But you said there was a weakness in the system,’ Booth Watson reminded him.
Longe nodded. ‘As I said, the laws state that a Sample Collection Officer has to witness the athlete concerned urinating, and to avoid the possibility of substitution, they are not allowed to pee behind closed doors. So, instead of swapping the sample, you will have to swap the Collection Officer.’
‘But even if we found a way to replace them with our own man,’ said Booth Watson, ‘and he was able to drop the correct amount of Turinabol into the sample bottles, wouldn’t the athlete concerned become suspicious?’
‘Not a chance,’ said Longe. ‘Once they’ve urinated into the bottle, they hand it over to the Collection Officer and leave. Don’t forget,’ he continued, ‘the Collection Officers are there to see the competitor doesn’t get away with anything, not the other way around.’
‘And how do we ensure our own Sample Collection Officers are in place before the two potential gold medallists are tested?’ asked Faulkner.
Longe smiled. ‘You can leave that to me, Mr Faulkner, and I feel sure you’ll agree when I’ve pulled it off I will have earned the first million. Don’t tell me, Mr Faulkner, you’re not playing for the home team.’
Miles turned to his lawyer and nodded. Booth Watson unlocked the top drawer of his desk, took out a chequebook, filled in a seven-figure sum and passed it across for Miles to sign. Once Miles had penned his signature, Booth Watson handed Longe a cheque for one million pounds.
‘That’s a down payment on the stadium deal as long as you supply the correct amount of Turinabol to ensure the athletes we select are disqualified,’ Faulkner reminded him.
Without another word, Longe rose from his place, walked across to Booth Watson’s desk and stubbed his cigar out on the blotting pad. ‘I must remember to bring an ashtray next time,’ he said, giving senior counsel a warm smile.
Booth Watson didn’t rise or shake hands when Longe turned to leave, one thug walking in front of him, the other behind.
Booth Watson returned to the window behind his desk and didn’t move until he’d seen Longe climb back into his Silver Cloud and disappear out of the front gate.
‘It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d driven off in your Rolls,’ said Booth Watson.
CHAPTER 19
Wednesday, 1 August – day 6 of the Games
COMMANDERWILLIAMWARWICKand his inner team sat in the dungeon of the Gold Suite, reviewing the last few days of the Games.
‘Any update from Professor Meredith on what might have been in the shoebox?’ asked Paul, when they had all given their reports.
‘A dozen scenarios, and I’d only need an extra hundred trained officers just to follow them up. However, whatever they’re planning, Professor Meredith thinks our biggest problem is likely to be the closing ceremony, as that will have the most press attention. But there’s no saying what they have planned in the meantime.’
He turned to Ross. ‘Any news of Faulkner?’
‘We still have him under constant surveillance. But since his Helsinki trip at the weekend, he stayed underground until yesterday.’
‘Details,’ demanded William.
‘Faulkner drove to Booth Watson’s chambers, where he was joined half an hour later by Bernie Longe.’
‘They only have one thing in common,’ suggested Jackie.
‘Agreed,’ said William, ‘but that doesn’t get us any nearer to finding out what they are up to.’
