‘We need to get everybody in the act,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll let you know about Harvey. But if he gets in touch with you first, let me know.’
Shepherd ended the call. He went into his kitchen and switched on the kettle, then phoned Charlotte Button. He relayed what Chaudhry had told him.
‘I’ll get everyone in gear,’ said Button.
‘I need to access a phone,’ said Shepherd. ‘Malik is AWOL.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘He’s away with a girl. I just need to talk to him and get him back on track.’
‘The best person to talk to is Rob Waterman. He’s our go-to guy with the phone companies. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll text you his home number. I’ll see you in Thames House.’
The line went dead. The kettle still hadn’t boiled so Shepherd left the phone by the sink and went through to the bathroom and showered and shaved. When he got back to the kitchen with a towel wrapped round his waist there was a text message on his office mobile phone. He made himself a coffee with a splash of milk and then phoned Rob Waterman, who was surprisingly cheerful despite the early hour.
‘No need to apologise. I’m an early riser and I’ve been up since four,’ said Waterman. ‘Charlotte has already called to tip me the wink. Give me the number and if you have the company that would save me a step.’
Shepherd gave him the information and Waterman said he’d phone back. Shepherd changed into blue jeans and a black polo shirt and was just pulling on socks when Waterman called back.
‘Already?’ asked Shepherd.
‘These days it’s as easy as pushing a few buttons,’ said Waterman. ‘The text message was just an address followed by a name, Nadia, and a smiley face. Do you have a pen?’
‘Don’t need one,’ said Shepherd.
Waterman gave him the address of a flat in Finsbury Park. ‘Couple of things you need to know,’ he said. ‘The phone is off now but the last time it was on it looks as if it was in the apartment. It was certainly in the immediate vicinity. That doesn’t mean it’s still there, of course.’
‘And the other thing?’
‘The phone that sent the text message has been very busy. It’s a pay-as-you-go sim card and it’s been operative for only twenty-four hours, but in that time it’s made several calls to Dubai, Palestine and Pakistan. Short calls, never more than a minute.’
‘Any significance in the numbers?’ asked Shepherd.
‘My guys are checking that now, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. I’m guessing disposable sim cards all round.’
‘Any other calls or texts made within the UK?’
‘No texts. Several calls, all under a minute and all to other pay-as-you-go mobiles. Three phones in all, but that’s including the number you gave me.’
‘What about a location?’
‘It’s off too but was last on at the same Finsbury Park address. In the area, anyway.’
‘You’re a marvel, Rob, thanks,’ said Shepherd. ‘Do me a favour and keep an eye on both phones and give me a call as soon as they go live again.’
Waterman promised he would and Shepherd ended the call. He sipped his coffee and put two slices of bread into the toaster, figuring it was going to be a long day and he’d best stock up with fuel. He ran through his options, then phoned Amar Singh. Singh was also wide awake. He had young children so lie-ins were generally reserved for the weekend.
‘What’s up, Spider?’ asked Singh.
‘It’s a bit embarrassing, but I need someone who looks Asian,’ said Shepherd.
‘And what, I’m the only Asian you know?’
‘The only one I can trust this with, yeah,’ said Shepherd.
Chaudhry stopped combing his hair and stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, wondering if it was possible to see a lie in a man’s eyes. He’d read a couple of books on body language and he knew that there were signs that gave away when a lie was being told. If he was going to get through the day he’d have to conceal all those signs. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ he said to himself. ‘Everything is going to work out just fine. By tonight, it’ll all be over.’ He took another deep breath, then gave his hair a final comb. As he walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea he began to tremble uncontrollably and he put both hands against the fridge to steady himself. He took slow deep breaths, trying to quell the rising sense of dread that was threatening to overwhelm him. ‘A few hours,’ he muttered to himself. ‘All you have to do is keep it together for a few more hours. You can do it, Raj.’
He switched on the kettle, then picked up his phone. He scrolled through his contacts list until he found Jamila’s number. He had a sudden urge to hear her voice and he pressed the green button. When she answered it was obvious that she had been sleeping and he apologised for waking her.
‘That’s all right, I had to answer the phone anyway,’ she joked.
‘I forgot it was so early,’ he said. ‘Sorry. Just wanted to wish you a happy day, that’s all.’
‘Are you okay, Raj?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You sound a bit stressed.’
‘I’ve got a test later today. I was up all night studying for it.’
‘Busy, busy boy.’
‘That’s the life of a med student,’ he said.
‘Too busy to see me?’
Chaudhry laughed. ‘Of course not. Can we do something at the weekend?’
‘Let me check my diary.’ She paused and Chaudhry felt his pulse quicken. ‘I’m joking,’ she said. ‘Of course we can. What do you fancy doing?’
‘We could go down to Brighton. Walk along the beach.’
‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘Sunday’s best for me.’
‘Sunday’s great,’ said Chaudhry. ‘I’ll check train times and get back to you.’
‘I can drive us,’ she said. ‘I’ll pick you up.’
Chaudhry felt another wave of panic start to overwhelm him and he gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles whitened. ‘Jamila?’
‘Yes?’
He took a deep breath. ‘I really like you, you know.’
‘I like you too. Raj, are you sure everything’s okay?’
‘I’ll be okay when this test is out of the way.’
‘Well, good luck with it,’ she said. ‘I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for you.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I feel better knowing that.’
Shepherd drove to Finsbury Park and found a metered parking space round the corner from the flat where Malik had gone to meet the girl. Fifteen minutes later Singh arrived in a white Mercedes four-door coupe. He had to park on the other side of the road and Shepherd walked over and got in next to him. Singh was wearing a black suit that was clearly a brand name and a blue silk shirt.
‘This is nice,’ said Shepherd, looking round the car. It still had its new-car smell and there wasn’t a mark on any of the surfaces.
‘I wanted the CLK but the wife said we needed doors for the kids,’ said Singh. ‘I said the kids could take the bus but for some reason she didn’t agree.’ He shook hands with Shepherd. ‘Good to see you, Spider.’
‘Thanks for coming, Amar,’ said Shepherd. ‘You didn’t have to dress up.’
‘This old thing?’ laughed Singh, running a hand down his jacket. ‘It’s MI5 and they notice good tailoring. In SOCA they couldn’t care less — it’s all tax inspectors and Customs officers, cheap suits and scuffed shoes.’ He nodded at the zipped-up jacket that Shepherd was wearing. ‘That’s pretty stylish,’ he said. ‘So I’m guessing you didn’t choose it yourself.’
‘Damien picked it out for me,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s what all the best arms dealers are wearing, I’m told, and it does a decent job of concealing my Glock.’
‘You’re carrying? You didn’t say that I was going to be dodging bullets.’ He gestured at his suit. ‘I don’t want
