All the Colors of Darkness

“You don’t ask for much, do you? Even if Silbert was responsible for Rick Wyman’s death, how on earth could Derek Wyman know about it if it was a secret mission?”

“I don’t know. Pillow talk again? Silbert lets something slip to Hardcastle in bed after one of those dinners, and Hardcastle passes it on.”

“Crap, Banks. Silbert and his kind are better trained than that.”

“But it could have happened somehow.”

“You’re clutching at straws, mate.”

“Will you find out for me? You’re counterterrorism, you should have an in.”

“I don’t know if I can,” said Burgess. “And if I could, I’m not sure that I would.”

“I’m not asking you to break the Official Secrets Act.”

“You probably are, but that’s the least of my worries. What you are asking could possibly bring a whole lot more grief on the intelligence services, including me, who really don’t need that right now, thank you very much, as well as on you and all your friends and family. I’m not sure I want to be the one responsible for all that.”

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R O B I N S O N

“You won’t be. It’s my responsibility. Derek Wyman set in motion a chain of events that ended in the violent deaths of two men. It was a cruel trick he played, if that’s all it was, and I want to know why he did it. If it’s something to do with his brother’s death, if there’s a terrorist connection, I want to know.”

“Why does it matter? Why don’t you just beat a confession out of him and leave it at that?”

“Because I want to know what it takes to drive a man to a cold-blooded act like that, something that, while he couldn’t be expected to be certain it would end in death, he had to know would at least bring a lot of unnecessary grief and pain into two people’s lives. Can’t you understand that? You of all people. And don’t try to tell me you’ve never suffered from copper’s curiosity. It’s what separates the men from the boys in this job. You can have a perfectly good career in the force without giving a damn about why who did what to whom. But if you want to learn about the world, if you want to know about people and what makes them what they are, you have to see beyond that, you have to dig deeper. You have to know.”

Burgess stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “Well, seeing as you put it like that, Banksy, how can I refuse?”

“You’ll do it?”

“I was joking. Look, it’s easy enough to find out about Silbert’s background—in general terms, without going into any incriminating details, of course—but it might be a bit harder to find any connection with a specific mission. If he was in Afghanistan ages ago, nobody’s likely to care about that now, but if it was more recent, that’s another matter. They don’t talk about things like that, and I don’t have unlimited access to files. They’d skin me alive if they knew I was even contemplating something like this. I’m not going to put myself in a position of risk, not even for you.”

“What can you find out?” Banks said. “What can you reasonably tell me?”

“Reasonably? Nothing. If I was behaving reasonably, I’d walk away from here right now, without even waving bye-bye. But I’ve never been a reasonable man, and perhaps I am as cursed as you are with copper’s curiosity. Perhaps it’s what makes me good at my job. You say A L L T H E C O L O R S O F D A R K N E S S

2 9 1

you already know Silbert visited Afghanistan. That doesn’t necessarily mean a lot, you know. These people travel a lot, for all kinds of reasons.”

“I know. But it’s a starting place. Can you also tell me what Silbert was up to lately? Who he was meeting in London?”

“You must be joking. I think the best I can do for you is find out if Silbert was working in an area and in a capacity that made it at all likely he could have had a connection with SAS missions in Afghanistan in 2002. That shouldn’t be too highly classified. Will that do you?”

“It’ll have to, won’t it? But how can I trust you? You’re with them, even if you’re not technically with MI5 or MI6. How do I know you’ll be telling me the truth?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Banksy. You don’t.”

“I mean, you could be feeding me whatever you want to, couldn’t you?”

“And they could feed me whatever they want you to know. Welcome to the dizzy world of the secret intelligence services. Is your phone safe?”

“It’s a pay-as-you-go.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Week or so.”

“Get rid of it as soon as you hear from me. I mean it.” Then, muttering “I must be a fucking lunatic” under his breath, he walked back to his car, leaving Banks to sit alone on the bench in the sun.

16

WHAT’S THIS ALL ABOUT?” DEREK WYMAN ASKED

Banks after Annie had picked him up and kept him waiting in the interview room for an hour. “It’s Saturday. I have to be at the theater. I’ve got a play to direct.”

“They’ll manage without you,” said Banks. “They have done before. Remember, when you were in London?”

“Yes, but—”