sitting in the White House. I’m sure he’ll be happy to give Carver a character reference.’
‘And you believe Carver’s on the right track now?’ Young asked.
Grantham did not answer immediately. His reputation was on the line here, just as much as Carver’s. If the plan worked out, they might, if they were very lucky, get some grudging thanks. If it failed, they would certainly be vilified.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think he is.’
‘In that case,’ said Cameron Young, ‘I can’t see that we have any other option. The Prime Minister needs to turn this situation around fast. Let’s see if Mr Carver can help him do it. You may go ahead with your operation, using whatever resources are required.’
Young looked at Grantham with a sad half-smile, as though he regretted having to utter the next few words. ‘Although you must understand that, in the event of failure, this conversation never happened. Her Majesty’s government cannot possibly be seen to be associated with any activities that do not meet the strictest standards of legality.’
‘Of course,’ said Jack Grantham. ‘I quite understand.’
62
Chinatown
In his private office above the dim sum restaurant, Derek Choi was holding a video-conference with a senior State Security Ministry official in Beijing. Another intelligence officer, a political analyst based at the Chinese embassy in London, was also party to the conversation.
‘Today’s events are highly significant,’ said the ministry man. ‘It is clear that we had greatly underestimated the effect of Mr Zorn’s self-fulfilling prophecy. Based on what your source within the Forces of Gaia told us, Comrade Choi, we predicted that the refinery would suffer severe damage, which would swiftly be made public.’
Choi maintained an impassive expression, though his guts seemed to twist like noodles round chopsticks as he heard the implied criticism of his information.
‘It was, of course, impossible to predict that the actions of these amateur saboteurs would have such a remarkable effect,’ the official continued, easing Choi’s tension with every word he spoke. ‘What is the current position of the British government, in your opinion, Comrade Jian?’
‘Squatting with their pants down, fertilizing the paddy fields with their shit,’ the analyst sneered, provoking laughter in the other two men. ‘As the British themselves say, they are running around like chickens without heads. The Prime Minister is in a state of shock. He has suffered a catastrophic loss of face, and neither he, nor his ministers, nor their officials, have any idea what to do to regain it.’
‘This makes the position of Grantham all the more interesting,’ the official in Beijing observed. ‘We regard him as a worthy opponent, one who does not lose his nerve. And he seems to have foreseen the danger posed by Zorn in a manner that other, more gullible fools did not.’
‘In that case,’ Derek Choi observed, ‘will he not be even more keen to use Carver to remove Zorn?’
‘That is a reasonable assumption, yes.’
‘Should we not therefore do our best to prevent that happening, since the effect of Zorn’s actions will now be even more to our financial profit and political gain than we could ever have imagined?’
‘Again, there is merit to that argument. What is your opinion, Jian?’
‘I agree with your assessment of Grantham. He is clear-sighted. He sees things as they really are, not how he would like them to be. And he has the courage to act while others are still weeping and wringing their hands. If he believes it would be advantageous to eliminate Zorn he will not hesitate to do so.’
‘And you still believe that this will happen tomorrow at Wimbledon?’ the official asked Choi.
‘My considered view is that Carver is more likely to attack Zorn close to the tournament site, rather than within the All England Club itself,’ Choi replied. ‘If he were killing by means of stealth, it would be relatively simple to poison Zorn’s food or drink and then be gone before the poison started to take effect. But he has been told that the killing has to be highly visible. This suggests a bomb, perhaps, or a shooting. Of course, Wimbledon is broadcast to more than one hundred and eighty nations, so if Zorn were to die in front of the TV cameras that would certainly provide visibility. But there would also be a high risk of collateral damage from crowds of people being caught by the bomb-blast or an innocent spectator walking into the line of fire. Then he must consider the issues of access and escape. In the panic that would follow such an assassination, the crowd would act unpredictably, posing a danger in itself, and certainly making it difficult to make a swift, un impeded getaway. For all these reasons, I anticipate an attack carried out on the roads leading to or from the tournament. I have already ordered both Carver and Zorn to be placed under observation, and have contingency plans in place should we need to act swiftly. If we do not, then I plan to eliminate Carver while he is watching the tennis.’
‘But Comrade Choi, I thought you said that this was not a suitable place for an assassination,’ Jian said.
‘For the kind of assassination Carver must carry out, yes, that is quite correct. But we can be more subtle. Let us suppose a group of civilized middle-country persons, anonymous amidst a sea of strangers, and lost in their own conversation, bump into an English barbarian. He is jostled for a few seconds. Perhaps there is a brief flash of anger. But then there are polite apologies, tempers cool, everyone goes on their way. The men from the middle country are soon lost in the crowd. It is as if nothing ever happened. Then, a few minutes later, the Englishman is taken ill. By the time he dies, my men and I have left the tournament. By the time an autopsy reveals that the Englishman’s heart attack was caused by poisoning, all the men but me will have long since left the country. I will of course be above suspicion, for why would a brilliant entrepreneur stoop to the murder of a stranger? And should anyone ask, I will have a dozen witnesses confirming my presence at a business meeting that lasted all day.’
‘Very good, Comrade Choi,’ the man from the State Security Ministry said. ‘You will of course send me written details of your plan for examination and comment. But in principle we are agreed. Carver will die tomorrow.’
63
Kensington Gardens, London
They met on the path that runs beside the Long Water in Kensington Gardens, just another two lovers snatching a few furtive moments together at the end of a working day.
‘I was so worried about you,’ Alix said. ‘As soon as I saw it all happening on the news, I just knew you were there, and I thought… I’m sorry…’ She rummaged in her handbag for a tissue to wipe away the tears that had caught her by surprise. ‘Dammit,’ she muttered, trying to manage a smile, ‘I was hoping to look pretty for you!’
With the same delicacy of touch that could be so arousing when they were in bed, but now just made her feel loved and comforted, he gently stroked a tear away from her cheek. ‘You always look pretty — much better than pretty,’ he said. Then he took her in his arms and she rested her head against his chest, hearing the strong, steady heartbeat that reassured her more than any words of his could do.
Alix sniffed, cleared her throat and, embarrassed by the weakness that she had just displayed, tried to snap back into a steadier, more professional mindset.
‘So what really happened?’
‘There was a very effective, professional, calculated assault on an oil refinery that just happened to cause a ton more collateral damage than the people who planned it expected.’
‘And who did plan it?’
‘In theory, a group called the Forces of Gaia. In practice, your old friend Celina Novak, calling herself Uschi Kremer, put the idea into their heads.’
Alix frowned. ‘You said she was working for that guy Razzaq…’
‘Yes.’
‘Who works for Zorn… You mean, this was all his idea?’
