“A contact in mainland China. I see the attraction.” Jack moved to the window of the room in the US consulate. It looked onto the inner courtyard of the building, protected from any eavesdropping.
“Back to Turner though. Will Scotland Yard be prepared to slow down?”
“The Superintendent who is Pole’s superior is a political animal. If he’s told by the Home Office to stand down his people, he will.”
“And Pole?”
“He knows how to be patient when he knows he will get what he wants … and he does want to nab Turner very badly.”
“Sounds hopeful … Shame I still have Hunter on my back. I only have a little less than twenty-four hours.”
“Even if Ms Wu comes back with some good data on Viro-Tech?”
“That’s what I’m counting on … my ticket to Washington is a flexible one.”
* * *
Marsh had left a message for Pole.
He didn’t need to go back to his office. Pole went straight to the top floor, to his boss’s corner office.
“He is in a foul mood,” warned his PA.
“That’s OK Denise, so am I.” Pole hadn’t bothered to straighten his tie. At least it was his casual clothes that had been ruined by the early morning bike accident.
“Sir …” Pole walked over to Marsh’s desk, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Pole …” Marsh spread his fingers across his desk. He seemed to have prepared for the conversation with Pole, and yet now was hesitating. “I’m not going to beat around the bush about this one … you’ve got to lay off Turner Junior.”
Pole clenched his jaw and cast a dark eye towards Marsh. “We’re tantalisingly close, Sir.”
“I know you are. I’ve read your report … but … I …” Marsh pursed his lips. “I’ve been leaned on.”
“May I ask by whom?”
Marsh glared back at Pole. “You may ask, and I may not answer.”
“There are only a few people who could do that … MOD, SIS … Home Office?”
Marsh shuffled his collection of pens around on his desk. “That’s right, one of those.”
“Is it permanent?”
“I have a feeling there is deal that needs to be concluded … but it could take some time.”
Pole reconsidered. “That’s alright, Sir. It’ll give me time to polish up the evidence my team is assembling on the gentleman.”
Marsh perked up. “You’ve got more?”
“The woman we were chasing and arrested has agreed to testify, and she’s now being moved into the witness protection programme. She has given us conclusive evidence in the form of recordings incriminating Turner Junior. We will establish incontrovertibly that it is his voice and the recordings haven’t been tampered with.”
“Excellent.” Marsh straightened up in his chair. There was still hope for a high-profile success.
“We’ve also looked into the USB key retrieved from Ollie Wilson’s flat. My team has come up with an idea about its content.”
“I thought it was a line of code.”
“They think it may be a password.” Thanking MI6 remained a mental exercise.
“So, when the time comes, we’ll be ready to pounce.” Marsh could not hide his glee.
“The minute Turner Junior loses his … protected asset status.”
“That’ll make the wait more bearable. In the meantime, I presume we need to make Turner feel secure?”
Pole nodded, surprised.
“So what … I too was a copper once.” Marsh was pleased with the effect.
“Of course, Sir … and talking about strategy. Have you spoken to Ferguson?”
“I have indeed. He could see my point, although he still argued that the burner phone could have been used by someone from the Met.”
“He needs to get on with finding out who bought the phone rather than trying to make his argument stick.” Pole felt a pang of sympathy for Ferguson. His instinct was right although perhaps now slightly misplaced.
“Any suggestions?” Marsh leaned forward.
“I’ve asked my DS, Andy Todd, to map all the places which may be selling burner phones illegally around the area of interest, and then check with the CCTV coverage. If this woman went into one of those shops, we’ll have it on record.”
“Leave the rest to me.”
Pole nodded his approval.
“One final request Sir.”
Marsh looked pleased and ready to accept anything Pole was about to ask.
“I’ll be flying to Hong Kong tonight.”
“You mean …?” Marsh looked concerned.
“Yes … Ms Wu is in trouble I fear, and she needs my help.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The name of the underground station was written on a piece of paper. Licot had frowned at the idea of letting Nancy go on her own, but she had assured him she would be fine.
She only needed to change trains once, and Mingmei would wait for her at the intersection of the two lines.
In the sea of faces, Nancy feared she might struggle to recognise her sister. She had found the underground station easily, though. Chengdu was built along straight roads that seemed to stretch endlessly, and met other roads at neat square junctions. Tall buildings and skyscrapers lined the streets, block after block. Nancy was reminded that China was a country of 1.4 billion inhabitants. Space was at a premium in big cities.
Other passengers on the underground had stared at her, but the clothes she had chosen and the way she had arranged her hair, avoided their curiosity becoming unwanted attention.
Nancy slowed her pace and spotted the benches that lay at regular intervals along the large corridors. She was about to choose one to sit down on and wait, when a hand squeezed her shoulder.
Mingmei had changed into dark trousers, a dark rollneck sweater and an unzipped biker jacket. Her smile squeezed once more Nancy’s heart.
“You found it okay?”
“Easy … just two lines to deal with.”
“Not like Hong Kong or Shanghai …” She nudged Nancy forward. “We’ve got to move quickly. People are leaving work and this will be the ideal time to try and get into the offices.”
They emerged from Century City station
