“I don’t care. It’s just a waste of time.” They had been talking about the events at Heathrow. Even though they were part of MI6, they were too junior to be told what had really happened to the football squad. According to the radio, the players had picked up a rare disease in Nigeria. Quite how they had all managed to die at the same moment hadn’t so far been explained.
“It was probably malaria,” Lloyd guessed. “They’ve got these new mosquitoes out there.”
“Mosquitoes?”
“Super-mosquitoes. Genetically modified.”
“Yeah. Sure!”
Just then the front doors swung open and a young black man swaggered into the reception area, dressed in motorbike leathers, a helmet in one hand and a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. There was a logo on his chest, repeated on the bag: Perelli’s Pizzas Grab yourself a pizza the action The agents ran their eyes over him.
About seventeen or eighteen years old. Short, frizzy hair and a wispy beard. A gold tooth. And lots of attitude.
He was smiling crookedly as if he wasn’t just delivering fast food to a fancy flat. As if he lived here.
Lloyd stopped him. “Who are you delivering to?”
The delivery man looked taken aback. He dug into his top pocket and pulled out a grubby sheet of paper.
“Foster,” he said. “A pizza wanted on the sixth floor.”
Ramirez was also taking an interest. It was going to be a long night. Nobody had come in or out yet. “We’re going to have to take a look in that bag,” he said.
The delivery man rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me, man? It’s just a frigging pizza, that’s all. What is this place? Fort Knox or something?”
“We need to take a look inside,” Lloyd informed him.
“Yeah. OK. Jesus!”
The delivery man opened the bag and took out a litre bottle of Coca-Cola which he set upright on the desk.
“I thought you said you only had a pizza,” Lloyd complained.
“One pizza. One bottle of Coke. You want to call my office?”
The two agents exchanged glances. “What else have you got in there?” Lloyd asked.
“You want to see everything?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, we do.”
“OK! OK!”
The delivery man put down his helmet next to the bottle. He produced a handful of drinking straws, still in their paper wrappers. Next out was a rectangular card, about fifteen centimetres long.
Lloyd took it. “What’s this?”
“What does it look like?” The delivery man sighed. “I’m meant to leave it behind. It’s like … a promotion.
Can’t you read?”
“You want to come into this place, you mind your manners.”
“It’s a promotion. We leave them all over town.” Lloyd examined the card. There were pictures of pizzas on both sides and a series of special offers.
Family-sized pizza, Coke and garlic bread for just nine pounds fifty. Order before seven and get a pound off.
“You want to order pizza?” the delivery man asked.
He was rubbing the two agents up the wrong way. “No,” Lloyd said. “But we want to see the pizza you’re delivering.”
“You can’t do that, man! That’s not hygienic.”
“We don’t see it; you don’t deliver it.”
“OK. Whatever you say. You know, I’ve been delivering all over London and I’ve never had this before.” With a scowl he took out a cardboard box, warm to the touch, and laid it on the reception desk. Lloyd lifted the lid and there was the pizza—a four seasons, with ham, cheese, tomato and black olives. The smell of melted mozzarella wafted upwards.
“You want to taste it too?” the delivery man asked sarcastically.
“No. What else have you got in there?”
“There is nothing else. It’s empty.” The delivery man yanked open the canvas bag to show them. “You know, if you’re so worried about security, why don’t you deliver it yourself?” Lloyd closed the box. He knew he should do just that. But he was a secret agent, not a pizza boy! And anyway, the pizza was only going as far as the sixth floor. He could see the lift from where he was standing. There was a steel panel next to the door, marked with the letter G and then the numbers from one to nine. Each number lit up as the lift travelled and if the pizza delivery man tried to go any further, he would see. As for the stairs between the floors, they had been equipped with pressure pads and security cameras. Even the air-conditioning ducts running through the building had been alarmed.
It was safe.
