it. The DG begged him at least to shuffle Davey, but he refused. Said it was too close to the election. When I came asking questions yesterday, my contact went to the DG, who said, quote, 'Bugger the PM and his Government. Give MoD a sight of the file.' So there it is.' Swift nodded at the yellow folder. 'They want it back by five o'clock, and I've promised, on your life, that it won't be photocopied.'
Arrow laughed. 'Thanks, pal. But I've no need to copy it. If Kelnikov was blackmailing Davey, all it tells me is that he didn't kill him. Mind you, it's a bit uncomfortable to think of him running around loose. How many other happy snaps does he have?'
`That's academic,' said Swift. 'Martin Hugo was killed in Switzerland three days ago. The KGB didn't even make it look like an accident, just blew his bloody head off on his front doorstep. They had a word with the French and the Belgians too, letting them know who their companies were playing with. The Aerofoil consortium will be wound up within the next few days, so score one for MI6.'
But their opposition don't know that do they?' said Arrow emphatically.
'Who?'
‘Breakspear, the company up in Workington who didn't get the missile contract. Bryn Sawyer, their Managing Director, called in the Receiver a week ago last Monday. If anyone in this situation had a reason to get even with Davey, it was him. And with the sort of technology his company was into… I think I'd better go and see my pal in Scotland.
Then we may have to pay a call in Cumbria. You've done all you can for now, Swifty.
Just make sure that you get that precious file back to MI6, well before five o'clock!'
SEVENTY-TWO
‘I agree with you, Adam. Sawyer has credentials as a suspect. But I don't want to go storming in there on the basis of nothing more than press cuttings quoting him as saying that he would 'see off' Colin Davey.'
Andy Martin sipped his coffee and glanced around him, making sure that there was no one within earshot. They were seated at a corner table in the Edinburgh Airport Hotel, which was usually guaranteed to be quiet in mid-afternoon.
`Sawyer has possibilities, but as I see it, there are others. There's the notion that Noble believed that Davey was having it off with his wife. There's the fact, or so it seems, that she is having an affair with this young soldier, an explosives expert. We'll get to the bottom of that one when Donaldson and Mcllhenney catch them on the job at the weekend. Remember this. Although you can promise me… and I won't ask how… that the Red Box was secure well into the night, it's still possible that Noble, or his wife, primed it first thing in the morning. If it was Sawyer, how would he get the bomb into Davey's box? Because that's where it was; and that's the only certainty in this whole bloody enquiry!'
`Maybe he swapped it for a dummy,' Arrow offered lamely. `How? When?' The policeman shook his blond head firmly.
`No, mate. Before I go marching into another Force's territory, demanding search warrants, I have to have more to go on than opposition. You head back to London, and have Davey's office staff look back through all his mail, just to see whether there's anything from Sawyer that might have been even slightly threatening, I'll have Brian and Mario go back to Chindersford, to revisit Mrs Davey and the Agent, and to check out the same thing. If we get something from any of those that justifies it, then I'll ask for a search warrant and pay a call on Mr Sawyer. Okay?'
Arrow sighed. 'Fair enough, Andy. Hey, how about this for a thought. What if more than one person was planning to kill Davey?'
`Don't! Imagine a case where we've got someone charged with murder and someone else charged with conspiring, or attempting to commit the same crime. God, how I wish the boss was back in harness!'
`How's Bob doing?'
`Time will tell,' said Martin, 'but from what I hear from Sarah, he's got a battle to fight that could be as tough as ours.'
SEVENTY-THREE
‘I thank you all for the confidence which you have shown in me, and for the honour which you have done me by adopting me as your Parliamentary Candidate. I promise you, in return, that I will fight with every scrap of energy I possess to retain this seat for the Association and for the Conservative Party.
`When I have done that, and I will, I pledge also that I will maintain the exceptional quality of public service given by the Member of Parliament whom you have just lost, not simply as a gesture in memory of my husband, but in keeping with my own standards and beliefs.
`Surrounded by loyal friends and supporters, I look forward to renewing the Conservative mandate in this Constituency and to representing it for many years ahead.'
With a short bow of her head, Leona McGrath sat down, almost disappearing from sight behind the lectern on the blue-clothed table. As she did so, the 137 members of Edinburgh Dean Conservative Association who had just adopted her unanimously as their by-election candidate, rose to their feet, applauding enthusiastically.
The ovation continued until Leona rose again, bowing and waving her thanks, and until finally she gestured to her audience that they should sit down.
`Thank you once again,' she said, once order had been. restored. 'After Roly's funeral tomorrow, our campaign will begin' as I am sure will be the case, your enthusiasm this evening is translated into effort in canvassing the support of the electorate, not only will you and I retain the seat, but we will do so with an increased majority.'
With a final wave, she turned and walked smartly off the stage of Edinburgh Academy Junior School hall, and into the wings, with John Torrance, who had chaired the meeting, by her side. Alison Higgins and Marsh Elliot were waiting for them. As soon as she was out of sight of the audience, Alison gathered her in a hug.
`Leona, you were terrific,' she said. 'You're right. You're going to retain the seat without a doubt. Don't you agree, Marsh?'
Elliot nodded emphatically. 'Yes,' he said seriously. 'Without a doubt. Those people out there respected Roly, and no mistake, but they never showed warmth or enthusiasm like that. The press will report that, and it will carry over into the opinion polls. You may have said a bit too much, though. If you hold the seat with a healthy majority, you'll have done your bit for the Party. If you decide then that on reflection you want to stand aside after a few months, your successor will be able to retain it at the General Election.'
Alison Higgins, looking at her friend, saw a frown begin to gather in her face, but Elliot went on. 'We're off to a flying start. If the first published polls show us in a healthy lead, in line with what our private soundings are telling us, then in a short campaign, the other parties will have no chance of catching us. Now,' he said 'the Press, Leona. You must talk to them.' He stood aside, and she saw for the first time a man standing behind him. 'You know Sir Jerry Lacey, the Member for Upper Deeside?'
She nodded, surprised. 'Of course.'
Well, Jerry has agreed, very kindly, to act as what we call Candidate's Friend, during the campaign. He'll be with you everywhere you go, as your adviser. When you're canvassing, on visits, at election meetings, all those; and he'll chair your press conferences. Central Office are giving us a Press Officer and a researcher, and the Scottish Director will be here full-time, advising on strategy, but Jerry will be your closest adviser. I've got a room set aside for a press conference now. Why don't we get on with it, to give you a little experience. The Press can be pretty tough on new candidates, you know. Shall we go?' He turned, as if ushering her onward.
Leona McGrath stood her ground. An awkward silence developed, until she broke it herself. She smiled at the ginger-headed Lacey. 'Jerry, it is very kind of you to volunteer, but I really don't want a minder.'
Elliot opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, silencing him. 'Marsh, the one way I can lose this seat is if the electorate see me as the poor widowwoman, thrust forward by the Party to capture the sympathy
