appeared to listen for a moment until the music came to a crescendo and went quiet, almost like a Gregorian chant, then he said, “As a matter of fact, she didn’t want me around. She sort of blamed me for what happened, for not setting the alarm.”
“Did you?”
“Of course I bloody did.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“She was upset. She wouldn’t believe me.”
“Did you call the police?”
“You know who we’re dealing with, Annie. Do you think calling the police would have done any good? For crying out loud, I
“So did you tell Sophia the truth, who you think it was?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“What’s the point frightening her?”
“To put her on her guard?”
“What do you care, anyway? You don’t even like her.”
“That’s not true,” said Annie, smarting. “It’s you I’m concerned about. It’s always been you.”
“Well, you needn’t be. Besides, they won’t hurt her. Or Tomasina.
They could have done that anytime, if they’d wanted. Me, too. No, they’ve delivered their message, and that’s all they wanted to do. For now. They’re just trying to scare us off. That’s why it’s time to bring Wyman in.”
“But they
Banks managed the beginnings of a smile and said, “What did you find out?”
2 7 2 P E T E R
R O B I N S O N
“A couple of interesting things.” Annie told him about her talk with Carol Wyman.
When she had finished, Banks said, “This business with Rick Wyman is interesting. SAS, indeed. You know where they get their orders from, don’t you? MI6, I’ll bet. This could be the link between Wyman’s and Silbert’s worlds. I always thought there had to be a lot more to it than professional rivalry. Did you follow up?”
“I talked to his . . .” What on earth did she call Charlotte Foster?
“His
“Interesting,” said Banks. “Very interesting. Now if only we could find out a few more details, such as what the mission was, who gave the orders and who supplied the intelligence, we might actually get somewhere. What if Wyman thinks Silbert was responsible for his brother’s death? What if he was? What if it’s something MI6 want to keep covered up?”
“Then they’ll do everything in their power to prevent you from uncovering it.” Annie reached for her coffee. A soloist was singing, bells chiming in the background, then the full choir came in again.
“Besides, just how, exactly, do you plan on finding out?”
“Before you arrived,” Banks said, “I got a return phone call from a Detective Superintendent Burgess. Dirty Dick Burgess.”
“I remember him,” said Annie. “He’s a sexist, racist, homophobic pig who thinks he’s God’s gift.”
“That’s the one,” Banks admitted. “I’d been trying to reach him for a couple of days, leaving cryptic messages. He’s remarkably resourceful when it comes to this sort of thing. I’m not sure exactly what department he works for these days, but it’s connected with counterterrorism, and he’s very much in the loop. Made the political transition from Thatcher and Major to Blair and Brown seamlessly.”
“Well, there’s not a lot of difference, as far as I can tell,” said Annie.
“You’re too young to remember Thatcher.”
“I remember the Falklands War,” Annie argued. “I was fifteen.”
A L L T H E C O L O R S O F D A R K N E S S
2 7 3
“Anyway, I didn’t hear back from Dirty Dick for a while, and I thought perhaps it was because I’m persona non grata with his bosses, or something along those lines. He’d be certain to know, if I was. As it happens, I am, and he knows it, but that wasn’t the reason. He’s not in London at the moment; he’s in Dewsbury.”
“Dewsbury,” Annie echoed. “But isn’t that where—”
“One of the bombers, or planners. Yes, I know. And that’s probably why he’s there. The point is, he’s agreed to meet me.”
“Where? When?”
“This morning, up at Hallam Tarn. It might be our only chance of finding a real link between Wyman and Silbert, this SAS and MI6
