out.’
Marcus regarded him quite severely. ‘What do you mean?’
Cavendish shifted in his chair and leaned forward. ‘We have had Grebo’s house under surveillance for some considerable time. And because we have followed you from the moment you walked out of the safe house, we knew there would be trouble once you showed up.’
Marcus struggled into a sitting position. ‘You weren’t there, were you?’
Cavendish shook his head. ‘No; I’m too old for that kind of thing. I let the younger ones do that. And fortunately the man I had on duty recognised the possibility of a disaster in the making and called up the local police. It was one of the local coppers who saved you.’
Marcus leaned back against his pillow which he had pulled up behind him. ‘So it’s all blown; Grebo knows you’ve been watching him.’
Cavendish allowed himself a little triumphant smile. ‘No, we were able to explain that there had been a report of a suspicious character in the neighbourhood and we were doing close checks on all the houses in the area.’
‘And Grebo fell for that?’
Cavendish shrugged. ‘Who knows? That was the explanation we gave; it was all we could come up with. What it means now, of course, is that we will have to pull our detail back for a while, just in case Mister Grebo has any suspicions.’
The door opened and a nurse came in. She walked over to the bed and removed the drip from Marcus’s arm. Then she hung the tube up over the empty bottle and pushed the stand to the rear of the bed.
‘Can I go home, nurse?’ Marcus asked.
The nurse smiled at Marcus and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
‘What I want to know, Blake is how on earth you learned of Danvor Grebo and the house?’
Marcus looked away from the closed door, giving up all thoughts of the nurse and turned his attention back to Cavendish. ‘First of all, please call me Marcus; I got used to not being called Blake once I left school. And Grebo’s house? I traced it through the number plate of the Mercedes I saw in the City Road: the one used in the attack at my office.’
Cavendish looked mortified. ‘How on earth did you catch on to that?’
So Marcus told him. ‘I saw the whole thing beginning to unfold through my office window. I didn’t realise then what was happening, and by the time it clicked I didn’t have time to say anything to you because I was busy, as I’m sure you will recall.’
‘I’ll give you that,’ Cavendish admitted drily. ‘Who do you know that can trace vehicle plates?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘Can’t tell you that; client confidentiality.’
Cavendish laughed. ‘It isn’t important, but it very nearly got you killed. And I’m sure your father would have had apoplexy if that had happened.’
‘You know my father?’ Marcus asked.
Cavendish nodded. ‘Your name rang a bell. Then I remembered: Sir Henry Blake. He rang my office a few days ago. I didn’t speak to him but later I remembered that he was on my radar for a while some years back during a ‘catch-all’ enquiry we were doing.’
It was Marcus’s turn to laugh. ‘Seems to me it was my mother who was on your radar, Cavendish,’ he told him.
Cavendish frowned. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’
‘Hong Kong; the handover.’
It suddenly dawned on Cavendish. ‘Ah yes; the lovely Emily. Your father is a lucky man, Marcus; your mother is quite a beauty.’
Marcus gave an emphatic nod. ‘Good, now you know where I get my good looks and intelligence from.’
Cavendish held up his hand. ‘You leave the intelligence bit to the professionals. You’ll learn nothing by getting yourself killed.’
‘I did learn something though,’ Marcus told him.
Cavendish immediately adopted a cautionary look. ‘Oh, what was that?’
‘I heard Grebo’s visitor tell him that there’s a shipment due in at Kings Lynn docks in a couple of days and a return load is now in a warehouse at Feltwell. I also heard someone say that the station chief is responsible for organising the shipment going out.’
Cavendish looked as though he had been run through with a sword. His expression turned to stone and he sat in complete silence for a minute.
‘Say that again please.’
Marcus knew he had said something of extreme importance. More so than that, he realised there was now far more to this man Grebo than he had first assumed. So he repeated it again, but slowly this time.
Cavendish muttered something and left the room. Marcus was now beginning to feel as though he had walked into a nest if vipers when he broke into Grebo’s house. He could see how lucky he was to have escaped from the man’s clutches because it wouldn’t have been a quick shot to the head, but more than likely a severe beating before being shot. And he was basing that premise simply on the way Cavendish had reacted to his news.
When Cavendish came back he had Susan Ellis with him. Marcus was stunned at seeing her there with him. She looked quite helpless somehow; as though it wasn’t her fault for being there. She gave Marcus a sorry looked with a weak shrug of her shoulders.
‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded to know.
Cavendish offered Susan the chair he had been sitting in earlier. Then he spoke to Marcus.
‘Let me explain something,’ Cavendish began. ‘I have been investigating a case that spans many borders and involves citizens of many countries. I have had to be extremely careful and sensitive about whom I approach and on whose toes I tread. Miss Ellis received another letter from her brother two days ago.’ Marcus looked quickly at Susan who nodded. ‘She went to see you, although goodness knows why, and found an empty office.’ At that moment, Marcus did not know his office had been cleaned out by Cavendish’s men. ‘So she contacted me, which of course was the sensible thing to do. I brought Miss Ellis here so she could talk to me on the way. When Miss Ellis mentioned her brother, some pieces of my increasingly complex jigsaw began to fall into place. You, Marcus have just added another piece.
‘Are you going to tell me what piece of the jigsaw I’m supposed to have supplied?’ Marcus asked.
Cavendish shook his head briskly. ‘Not yet Marcus: all in good time.’ He turned to Susan. ‘Now my dear, if you don’t mind, I need to talk with Marcus alone. I’ll see you out.’
Susan stood up and came over to the side of the bed. ‘I hope you’ll soon be up and about, Marcus. And I do hope one day we can both see David.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked her. Susan glanced over at Cavendish before looking back at Marcus. ‘Well, if Mister Cavendish will arrange a taxi for me, I’ll go home and get on with my life. I intend going to the newspapers about David again; they’re the only ones who might be able to help.’
‘I wish you luck.’ It was a poor but well-meant offering from Marcus; he could see no way Susan was going to make progress with her self-imposed task.
‘Thank you, Marcus,’ she said quickly and leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek. ‘Goodbye.’
She left the room with Cavendish behind her. Five minutes later the MI6 chief came back. He shut the door and walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.
‘I believe,’ he began without preamble, ‘that Danny Grebo is smuggling drugs into the country and shipping arms out. That is why your information has been so vital.’ Marcus frowned heavily. ‘Where the bloody hell would Grebo get arms from?’ he asked disbelievingly.
‘That’s my problem,’ Cavendish replied. ‘I believe I know, but I cannot prove it. It isn’t actually Grebo who is shipping the arms out: it’s the CIA. Danny Grebo is part of a chain. His cousin, Milan Janov is another link, but he’s based in Turkmenistan. There are a lot of top, top people caught up in this, Marcus. There are billions of dollars involved too. That’s why you nearly got yourself killed; you blundered into something that is way beyond you. But you opened a door for me and it has given us the opportunity to step through.’
‘Us?’ queried Marcus.
Cavendish nodded. ‘Yes, us; from now on Marcus I want you to work with me.’
John Deveraux, the American Military Attache at the American Embassy knew that Randy Hudson, the CIA
