air-traffic control and in theory a coastguard helicopter flies over to you.’
‘Great way to get home if you can’t find a taxi.’
Singh grinned. ‘Yeah, well, it’ll get you a ten grand fine if you haven’t been in a plane crash,’ he said.
‘So, one of those transmitters can be as small as a watch?’
‘Sure. The battery wouldn’t last long transmitting, though. A day maybe.’
‘So it’s not transmitting all the time?’
Singh shook his head. ‘Just when the aerial’s pulled out. Same with the EPIRBs. They only send out a distress signal once they’re activated. Has to be that way because they’d burn through batteries if they were on all the time.’
‘How big are they?’
‘They weigh a couple of pounds or so, the nautical and aviation models.’
‘What about something smaller? Something that can be satellite tracked but small enough to hide?’
‘We don’t have anything that small. Not for satellite tracking. You’d need to talk to the spooks. Or the Yanks.’
‘Could you put out some feelers? It might make fewer waves if the approach comes from you.’
‘What are you planning, Dan? What’s all this about?’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘It’s starting to look like the only way we’re going to get him out is to walk into the lion’s den.’
‘You’re crazy,’ said Singh.
‘You might be right,’ said Shepherd. ‘But keep it to yourself, yeah?’
Shepherd parked his BMW next to the Honda CRV and let himself into the house. Katra was sitting on the sofa, her legs curled up. She put down her magazine. ‘Do you want a coffee?’ she asked.
‘I’ll get it,’ said Shepherd. ‘How’s Liam?’
‘He was in bed by eight,’ she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
‘Homework?’
‘All done.’
‘Great,’ said Shepherd. He went through to the kitchen. He had just made himself a mug of coffee when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver.
‘It’s Charlie, I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time to call.’
‘Something wrong?’ he asked.
‘I need to talk to you, Spider.’
‘Now?’
‘Face to face, if possible. Do you mind if I come to your house?’
Shepherd squinted at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. And she had called on his landline, not his mobile, which meant she knew that he was home. ‘Sure,’ said Shepherd. ‘What time?’
‘Now, if that’s okay. I’m outside.’
Shepherd frowned. He hadn’t seen her when he’d parked the car, and he was sure he hadn’t been followed to Ealing. Charlotte Button was full of hidden talents. ‘The kettle’s on,’ he said. ‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea, please. Anything but Earl Grey.’
‘It’s not exactly the Ritz, and I’ve no cucumber sandwiches,’ he said.
‘Tea will be fine,’ she said, and ended the call.
Shepherd put the receiver on to the cradle. That Button hadn’t said why she wanted to see him was worrying. Something was wrong – and wrong enough for her to be knocking on his door at this time of night.
He switched on the kettle again, put a teabag into a cup and got a bottle of milk from the fridge. Before the kettle had boiled, the doorbell rang. Shepherd went through to the sitting room and asked Katra if she minded going to her room. ‘I’m sorry, it’s business,’ he said.
She hurried upstairs while Shepherd went to the front door. Button was wearing a fawn raincoat with the collar up. She nodded as she stepped across the threshold, but she didn’t say anything. Her eyes were cold and Shepherd knew now that something was very wrong.
‘Go through to the sitting room, on the right,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll get the tea.’
When he carried in the tray, she was sitting on the sofa where Katra had been. She’d taken off her coat and dropped it on the back of the sofa and was sitting with her legs crossed, the upper foot tapping the air. Shepherd placed a cup in front of her, then sat down in an armchair opposite.
He smiled at Button, but his face felt wooden. He had a sudden urge to cough and fought it. His mind was racing. Why was she in his house and why had she needed to see him at such short notice? If it was a work-related issue there would be no need for her to give him the silent treatment.
‘Is there something you want to tell me, Spider?’ she asked eventually. ‘Something you want to get off your chest?’
His mind raced. How much did she know? And how much could he afford to tell her?
Button continued to stare at him, allowing the seconds to tick away with no sign of discomfort other than her tapping foot. It was the same technique that Kathy Gift had used, leaving long silences in the hope that Shepherd would fill them.
Shepherd shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what you want me to say, Charlie.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
‘Everything’s fine. Is this about my biannual review?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Caroline seems to think you’re perfectly fit for undercover work. I’m the one who’s starting to have doubts.’
‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.
‘You are,’ she said, her voice flat and emotionless. ‘Did you think you could go to Dubai without me finding out? And then when you do come back, you rush straight round to Amar.’
‘Have you had me followed?’ said Shepherd.
Button looked at him with undisguised contempt. ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she said. ‘I don’t have my people followed. But when one of them starts flying around the world at short notice I think I have the right to know what the hell is going on.’
‘I was on holiday,’ said Shepherd. ‘I applied for the leave. Plus today’s the weekend. It’s Saturday.’
‘I know what day it is,’ said Button. ‘So what was Dubai about? Shopping? You didn’t come back with any duty-free bags.’
‘So you were at the airport? Spying on me?’
Button snorted softly and didn’t answer. The silence stretched into a minute. Then a second minute. This wasn’t the sort of mind game Kathy Gift had played, Shepherd realised. Button was going to wait for him to speak, no matter how long it took.
‘What do you think I was doing in Dubai?’ he asked quietly.
‘I’m not here to answer your questions,’ she said.
‘Then why are you here? To sack me?’
Button leaned back and folded her arms. ‘Do you want me to sack you? Is that it? Do you have another job lined up?’
Shepherd frowned, confused. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Are you working for Richard Yokely? Is that why you went to Dubai?’
Shepherd’s jaw dropped. It was the last thing he’d expected to hear.
‘I know you met him in Knightsbridge last week. And you’ve met him before. I’m fairly sure he’s offered you a job.’
‘That’s not why I went to Dubai.’
‘But he does want you to work for him?’
Shepherd sighed. ‘He offered me a job while I was still working for Hargrove. I told him no.’
‘You know what he does?’ said Button.
‘He used to be CIA,’ said Shepherd. ‘Now he’s something in Homeland Security.’
‘He kills people, Spider. He’s a government-sanctioned killer. He’s worked in South America, Africa, Afghanistan, Iraq, anywhere where human rights are less accountable than they are here.’
‘I sort of realised that,’ said Shepherd.
