At Piccadilly Circus, then again at Charing Cross, she positioned herself at the doorway so she could see if the other two had gotten off. But they had stayed on until they reached the third stop. Embankment.
Embankment Station was much smaller than Oxford Circus, and soon they were all at ground level, exiting into the cold morning air. Wills and the other man stopped just outside, next to a flower shop, leaning close in conversation. Petra passed by as near as she could, but could hear nothing.
Ahead of her was a cobblestone street that had more pedestrians on it than cars, and on the corner opposite her was a Starbucks. She walked over and entered the coffee shop. Once the door was closed behind her, she looked back.
The other man was still there, but Wills was gone. She scanned the area and couldn’t find him on the street, either. Had he gone back in to take the subway somewhere else?
The other man was still at the flower stall, but most of his attention was on the station. Petra pushed the door open and crossed the street to a path that led in the direction Wills had gone down. Within seconds the man at the flower stall was no longer in view.
On the other side of the bushes and trees, the path led into a grassy park. Wills was walking slowly down one of the sidewalks, away from her.
Petra walked into the park and took the path parallel to the one Wills was on.
Ahead, he reached the point where the two paths intersected. Petra quickly glanced around. There were several benches lining the walkway. Most were empty, but the one nearest was occupied by a bundled-up woman reading a book. Petra hurried over to the next bench and sat just before Wills turned down the path in her direction. She could hardly believe her luck. She was never going to have a better opportunity to get him alone so they could talk than this.
She angled her head so she could see him in her peripheral vision, and watched as he continued forward for another twenty feet, then stopped.
He checked his watch, so Petra did the same. It was ten minutes to nine. When she looked up again, Wills had resumed walking. Slowly though, like he was killing time.
As he drew near, she chanced a look out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t appear to have noticed her at all.
Quinn made his way through the controlled chaos that was Victoria Station to the Underground entrance at the north end. He used a prepaid Oyster card to get through the gate, then, instead of heading to the platform for the eastbound District and Circle lines—either of which would have taken him to Embankment Station two stops away—he headed to the Victoria Line northbound. This way he would arrive early via an indirect route. It was his standard-operating procedure.
The morning crowds were huge. It didn’t matter which direction you were going, you couldn’t help getting swallowed up in the mass of men and women making their way to work.
That suited Quinn just fine. More people meant he would be harder to follow. Still, he checked several times to make sure no one was behind him giving it a try.
A second train line later, he was exiting at Charing Cross, one stop shy of Embankment Station. From there he strolled down the cobbled street that led toward the park.
By Quinn’s watch, there were fifteen minutes left before his meeting with Wills. Given what had happened at the last two job sites, and at the aborted meeting location in New York, Quinn expected Wills to have watchers already in place securing the site and keeping an eye out for trouble.
Straight ahead, at the far end of the street, Quinn could see the entrance to Embankment Station. On the left side, against the outer wall and near one of the paths into the park, was an outdoor flower shop. That’s where Quinn spotted the first watcher.
It was the same man who’d been sitting in the lobby of the Grand Hyatt. He was wearing a suit that helped him blend in with the rest of the morning crowd, and was browsing the flowers with a watchful eye on the station exit.
Keeping a group of three businessmen between himself and Wills’s man, Quinn approached the park, then ducked in through the northern entrance unseen.
The path led through a wide strip of bushes and trees that separated the park from the street. Quinn found a spot where he was out of view, but could still see into the park through the foliage.
He looked at his watch, then settled back against the concrete half-wall that separated the sidewalk from the bushes, content to wait until nine. But not thirty seconds after he’d adjusted his position, a man walking along the sidewalk at the far end of the park caught his attention.
Quinn pulled out his phone and switched on the zoom of his camera, training it on the man. It was Wills.
He watched as Wills continued down the path, killing time. Quinn was just about to go out and meet him when he noticed a woman sitting on one of the benches. She was trying very hard not to look at Wills. Just as the Englishman passed her, she did glance up. Quinn could see her face.
She had a look that seemed almost …
