BOX 88

Charles Cumming

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Charles Cumming 2020

Cover design by Stephen Mulcahey © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover photographs © Marina Endermar/Dreamstime.com (church), CollaborationJS/Arcangel Images (man)

Charles Cumming asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008200367

Ebook Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008200381

Version: 2020-08-19

Dedication

for Harriette

Epigraph

‘We have as many personalities as

we have friends’

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Index of Characters

21 December 1988

London, the present day

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Keep Reading …

Acknowledgements

About the Author

By Charles Cumming

About the Publisher

Index of Characters

The Kite family:

Lachlan Kite (‘Lockie’), intelligence officer

Isobel Paulsen, Lachlan’s Swedish-American wife, a doctor

Cheryl Kite (née Chapman), Lachlan’s mother

Patrick Kite (‘Paddy’), Lachlan’s father (d.1982)

The Bonnard family:

Xavier Bonnard, Kite’s childhood friend

Luc Bonnard, Xavier’s father

Rosamund Bonnard (née Penley), Xavier’s mother

Jacqueline Ward (‘Jacqui’), Xavier’s younger sister

BOX 88:

Michael Strawson, veteran CIA officer and co-founder of BOX 88

Rita Ayinde, senior officer (UK)

Jason Franks, head of Black Ops (a ‘Closer’)

Carl Fowler, surveillance officer (a ‘Falcon’)

Freddie Lane, computer analyst (a ‘Turing’)

Ward Hansell, senior officer (US)

James (‘Jock’) and Eleanor (‘Miss Ellie’) Carpmael, office managers at ‘The Cathedral’

The Reverend Anthony Childs, a vicar

Alford College:

Lionel Jones-Lewis, Kite’s housemaster, known by the initials ‘LJL’

Cosmo de Paul, joined Alford in the same year as Kite

William ‘Billy’ Peele, history teacher

The Security Service (MI5):

Robert Vosse, leader of MI5 investigation into BOX 88

Cara Jannaway, intelligence officer

Matt Tomkins, intelligence officer

Other Characters:

Ali Eskandarian, an Iranian

Abbas Karrubi, bodyguard to Ali Eskandarian

Hana Dufour, a friend of Ali Eskandarian

Ramin Torabi, an Iranian businessman

Martha Raine, a schoolfriend of Jacqueline Ward

Zoltan Pavkov, a Serb

Bijan Vaziri, an Iranian exile

21 December 1988

They were just another American family heading home for the holidays.

A taxi had been booked to take them from their house in Pimlico, little Gaby facing backwards on the fold-down chair, her legs not yet long enough to reach the floor, every inch of the cab crammed with suitcases and boxes and Harrod’s carrier bags full of presents wrapped for Christmas. Mommy and Daddy were facing her, side by side on the back seat, her giant Hamleys’ teddy bear wedged between them. Whenever the driver braked, Gaby could feel herself pulled backwards and then forwards, weightless for an instant, like the feeling of being on the swings in Battersea Park and wanting to fly off into the afternoon sky. Her mother said: ‘Careful, sweetie,’ but there was no way she was going to fall, not with the suitcases to steady her and the handle on the door to hold onto. She loved the growl of the taxi’s engine, the Christmas lights receding in the back window, her father’s voice as he pointed out the Italian restaurant they had been to for Grandpa’s birthday, then the home of the Martins in Chelsea, the other American family they knew in London with their golden retriever, Montana, who licked Gaby’s face whenever she gave him a hug.

Mommy had told her that there were only three more bedtimes until Christmas Eve. One tonight, on the aeroplane which was taking them across the ocean to New York, then two in her bedroom at the house in Stamford. Gaby felt giddy with excitement. She would miss her friends from school – Claire and JenJen, Billy and Pi – but they had promised to stay in touch and write postcards to one another from wherever they were going.

Soon the taxi started going faster and they were on the freeway heading out to Heathrow. At the airport, the driver found a trolley. Gaby watched her parents pile the suitcases one on top of the other until Daddy insisted Mommy fetch a second trolley to cope with all the bags. He had given the driver thirty pounds saying: ‘Keep the change.’ The driver’s name was Barry. When he asked where they were going, Gaby told him: ‘New York. Pan Am flight number 103. Have you ever been to New York?’

‘’Fraid not,’ Barry replied. ‘You have a safe trip, sweetheart, lovely Christmas.’

There was a tree with tinsel but no lights near the desk where they queued with the trolleys. Afterwards Gaby showed her passport to a man wearing a turban who wished her a happy Christmas. She had to walk through a special door that detected metal while her rucksack and teddy bear went through the X-ray machine. A boy beside her was crying. Gaby couldn’t understand why someone would be crying when there were only three more bedtimes until Christmas.

Eventually, after Mommy had taken her to the bathroom and bought some earplugs in a pharmacy inside the terminal, they walked down a long corridor to a big room where the other passengers were waiting to board the aeroplane. Gaby heard American accents, lots of them, saw older children listening to music on Walkmans, a woman lying asleep, sprawled

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