She was glad to see that she had Jamieson’s full attention now. By the time she left the ballroom, she was satisfied that not only did he now take the Kollek threat seriously but he was unlikely to think of much else. His initially patronising manner had infuriated her, but at least he was on board now, and that was the important thing.
The hotel manager, Ian Ryerson, occupied a small windowless office behind the arcade of shops on the ground floor of the hotel, just round the corner from the ballroom command post. He was a dapper man in his forties, with a bland smile and an affable manner that could have been pressed into service in resorts anywhere from the south of Spain to the golf-laden stretch of coast between Fort Lauderdale and Miami.
In welcome contrast to the chief constable, he was eager to help, though it soon transpired there were limits to the assistance he could provide. Yes, Kollek had been up to Gleneagles, he confirmed, and he had toured the facilities with two others from the Israeli embassy.
‘Can you tell me exactly what they asked to see?’
Ryerson looked embarrassed. ‘I’m afraid I can’t. You see, I didn’t give them the tour. I was rather taken up with the Americans.’
‘Secret Service?’
He nodded dolefully. Liz gave an understanding laugh. ‘Could I speak to whoever did show them around?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It was young Dougal; he’s only been here a year. But he’s very good,’ he insisted, lest she think he had fobbed off the Israelis on an incompetent junior.
Summoned by phone, Dougal joined them, looking like a schoolboy called to the headmaster’s study. He was a gangly youth, with a mop of ginger hair and a serious expression that made his youthful face look oddly middle- aged. Ryerson explained vaguely that Liz was involved with security arrangements.
‘We’re just checking up on a few things,’ Liz said casually. ‘No big deal. I gather you escorted an advance party of Israelis. Can you tell me about them?’
‘That’s right,’ said Dougal, starting to relax, since the headmaster’s cane was nowhere in sight. He described Naomi and Oskar, then, more hesitantly, the third member of the party, a man they called Danny.
Liz picked up on this. ‘Tell me about this Danny. Was there anything in particular you noticed about him?’
Dougal thought for a moment. ‘Nothing I could put my finger on. Except that… he seemed more… detached. I kept thinking he was looking for something. As though he had some idea in his head that he wasn’t letting anyone else in on.’
‘What sort of idea?’
Dougal shrugged helplessly.
‘Was it about the dinner the Israelis are giving the Syrians? The night before the conference.’
‘I haven’t been involved with the dinner. Sorry.’
‘If it wasn’t the dinner, was there anything else he might have been concerned about?’
‘Not really. Other than the entertainment, I mean.’
‘There’s entertainment?’ said Liz, trying to stay calm. Naomi at the Israeli Embassy hadn’t said anything about entertainment.
‘Well, yes,’ said Dougal. He looked worried, as if he’d suddenly realised he’d done something wrong. ‘Falconry and gun dogs.’
When Liz looked puzzled, Dougal explained how demonstrations of each were going to be given for the guests before the dinner began.
When he’d finished, Liz said crisply, ‘This afternoon I’d like to visit both the schools.’
‘Of course,’ said Ryerson. ‘I’ll ring ahead so they’ll know you’re coming.’
‘And I wonder if you could spare Dougal to come with me. That way, we could retrace their steps precisely, and speak to the same people Kollek talked to.’
Ryerson agreed. Then Liz took a copy of the photograph of Kollek from her briefcase. ‘There’s another thing. I’d like this circulated among all the staff here at the hotel. If any of them had contact with Kollek while he was here I’d like to know right away. Anyone from the cleaners of his house to a barman – if they remember seeing him, or talking with the man, please ask them to report it immediately. I’ll give you my mobile number so you can pass on any reports you get.’
‘There’s a large number of staff, Ms Carlyle, so it may take a little while-’ he said, then stopped speaking as he stared at the photograph Liz had put on his desk. He looked up at her with thoughtful eyes. ‘He looks familiar,’ he said.
‘You may have seen him when Dougal was showing him around.’
‘I was busy with the Americans then. I didn’t meet any of the Israelis – I didn’t have time.’
‘Still, you might have crossed paths during his stay.’
But Ryerson was shaking his head. ‘No, it wasn’t then. I think he was here once before. I remember the face – he was alone, though, I’m sure of it. Here in the hotel. It wasn’t that long ago, either. Within the last couple of months.’
‘Is it possible to check the register of guests? See if you can spot him.’
‘I was just thinking that. We don’t get that many single men staying – though if he was borrowing one of the timeshares, from a friend say, we wouldn’t necessarily have any record of him.’
Ryerson was obviously pummelling his memory, trying hard to remember when he’d seen Kollek. Liz waited hopefully, but he shook his head. ‘No, it’s gone. But let me go through the register and get back to you.’
FIFTY
Liz met up with Peggy at the golf clubhouse, which was in use until the dinner the following day as a sort of officers’ mess for the security contingents. They ordered lunch from the bar menu – Liz a sandwich, Peggy a small side salad. ‘Is that going to be enough to get you through the afternoon?’ asked Liz.
Peggy nodded. ‘I’ve put on a few pounds lately, thanks to Tim. He bought a pasta machine, and it’s been fatal. If I never saw hand-made ravioli again, it wouldn’t be too soon.’
They sat in a conservatory-like annexe that overlooked the last undulating hole of the famed King’s Course. The eighteenth green sat like an emerald oval amidst the yellowed grass of the fairways, bleached by the long hot summer.
Peggy plonked a stack of papers on the table. ‘These are the itineraries for all the delegations,’ she announced with a sigh. ‘I’m not sure where to begin.’
Liz put her hand on the stack of pages. ‘I think we should get Dave’s team to put those onto one big spreadsheet so that we know where everyone is at any given time. You may find they’ve done it already. In general, there’s no point trying to duplicate what the security people have already done. For the moment, I think we should concentrate on the Syrians’ schedule. After all, they are the only specific target that we know Kollek might have. Anything strike you there?’
‘Just the dinner here in this restaurant tomorrow.’
‘That, certainly. But there’s to be some sort of entertainment before it. It’s being planned by the Israelis to amuse the Syrians. Something to do with birds and dogs, I gather. It seems Kollek was interesting himself in it. I can’t think why that Naomi woman didn’t tell me. I’m going over to the falconry school and the gun dogs after this and find out exactly what they’re going to be doing tomorrow. If Kollek’s planning something to happen while their demonstration is on, then maybe we can work out what it might be.’
‘Do you think he’ll try to do something himself? He must know now that we’ll all be looking for him.’
‘I just don’t know. It would be very difficult for him; the outer security cordon’s going up today. I’ve made sure his photo is being circulated to everyone – provided old Jamieson doesn’t sit on it.’
‘How did you get on with the chief constable?’ asked Peggy. ‘Was he as bad as Dave said?’
‘I’ll tell you all about him tonight. But I think I sorted him out.’
Peggy grinned. ‘I’ll bet you did.’ She added, ‘What if Kollek’s hidden himself somewhere?’
‘I can’t see it. Between the police and Special Branch and the Secret Service, there isn’t a room anywhere in the entire resort that hasn’t been checked, and checked again. The same goes for any explosive device he might have tried to put in place – every inch of interior space will have had sniffer dogs and detectors all over it.’
