Deception

‘It might have pushed the MOD’s thinking along a bit, but I don’t think that was the catalyst. Why would the MOD care about the odd dead deserter? As far as they’re concerned, it’s a problem solved. Close the files, delete and move on.’

The MOD’s decision had nothing to do with Tan’s disappearance, either, Harry realized. If what Clare was saying was true, Tan had kicked off at least three weeks ago now, some time after the decision had been made to go after the Protectory. But why? Coincidence, or simply a realistic anticipation that the longer the conflict in Afghanistan went on, the situation could only get worse and more high-value targets would leave and be chased down for what they could sell?

‘These friends,’ he said, turning to continue walking. Too long in one position here and the police would begin to take an interest. And he hadn’t finished with Clare yet. ‘Are they in Six or the MOD?’

She shook her head with an enigmatic smile.

‘OK. The information coming out of the Protectory. . do they know who’s leaking it?’

‘The main money seems to be on a guy called Colin Nicholls, formerly a major in the Intelligence Corps. He went missing about eight years ago while on leave from Iraq. He found his way into the original Protectory, which was just a bunch of guys helping each other stay below the radar. But they weren’t selling anything, not like now.’

So far, so correct. ‘Why Nicholls? There are others in the group.’ He told her about the American, Turpowicz, as an example.

‘There are thought to be half a dozen regular members, spread all over, but I don’t know any names. Nicholls probably has the best background for feeding information through the system to the authorities without being traced. Maybe after all these years, he’s developed a conscience — I don’t know. What they have picked up is that he’s become disenchanted with the way the others in the group are taking it and wants out. His messages have been sounding increasingly despondent.’ She paused. ‘Hasn’t Ballatyne been telling you all this stuff?’

‘No. You know they’ll go after your friends, don’t you?’ He wasn’t giving away any secrets; Clare and her contacts might be a little naive to think they could pass her information for ever without being caught, but they weren’t completely stupid. In the end, something always gave whistleblowers away, if only the whistleblowers themselves, victims of over-confidence or inflated egos. ‘They’ll go on a rat hunt and clear them out.’

‘I know that. So do they.’ She sounded subdued. She must have been harbouring the knowledge for some time. ‘They’ve been thinking of leaving, anyway. Time to move on.’

They had come as far as Birdcage Walk. Harry turned about, then stopped.

‘Thanks for helping Jean, by the way.’ It was something he’d been meaning to say. It would never be enough to make them friends, but it warranted something of a truce between them, if not quite full trust.

‘No problem. You helped me in Georgia, got me out of there when you could have left me behind. Consider us quits.’ She looked and sounded sincere. Another mood swing or a glimpse of the real Clare? He still wasn’t sure.

‘Quits.’

‘So what now?’

‘I thought you were going to tell me. You seem to have a lot of facts.’

‘Basics, that’s all. What I do know is, after what happened at Jean’s place, you must be top dog on the Bosnians’ hit list. They’re probably feeling bruised by that failure. We neither of us know where Paulton or the Protectory are hiding out, but from the Bosnians to them is a fairly straight jump, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Find the Bosnians, find Deakin and Paulton?’ It was a tantalizing thought, but offhand he couldn’t think of another. He’d already staked himself out as a goat once, so he might as well try it again. ‘Where can I find you?’

‘You have my number. Just call and I’ll come running.’ She smiled archly and walked away, her heels going click-clack on the hard ground.

His phone buzzed. It was Rik.

‘Harry, I’ve got something on Vanessa Tan. But you’re really not going to like it. She’s dead.’

FIFTY-THREE

Harry sank into a chair in Rik’s flat, and felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. They were too late. The Protectory had got to her after all. But why kill her? ‘How did it happen?’

‘She died in a house fire.’

‘When?’

Rik paused for dramatic effect, then said, ‘Six years ago.’

‘What?’ Harry was stunned. If Tan was recorded as dead, then how-?

‘It was in Huntingdon, in a squat used by animal rights activists. The others knew her only as Vanessa, a supporter. The police never managed to match it to the address in north Wales, so she was named as Vanessa X by a local newshound. I only spotted the name by chance in a local newspaper archive. There’s no photo but the activists gave a good description. One of them said she had a faint Welsh accent.’

Harry sighed. At least it explained what had happened to her after university. ‘That must be when they made the switch.’

‘Well, maybe not. That’s the weird thing.’ Rik sounded excited. ‘When I was still searching for anything related to Lieutenant Tan, I went through every record I could find on the command structure for ISAF in Kabul. There were pictures of all the officers, from every national force represented — puff pieces, mainly, with links to their careers, training and so on, who they knew, what sports they played, everything but who they were sleeping with. There were even shots of the support staff, right down to security guards, drivers, admin workers, chefs and valets. The only person consistently missing was Tan.’

‘Nothing?’ It wasn’t impossible but it seemed highly unlikely that one person — even an impostor working by design — could have missed a military photo session every time.

‘There were a couple of entries listing Lieutenant V. Tan as an aide to the Deputy Commander, but no pictures. She doesn’t appear in any of the group shots, background photos or staff registers. There’s no sign of her in shots of the command staff with local tribal leaders or ministers, which there would have been if she had the local languages. Can you imagine what the more politically correct wonks in the MOD would have made of that one? Here’s a young woman in a key position in a war zone. . blah, blah, blah.’

He was right. It would have made political capital good money couldn’t buy.

‘Even the gallery of leaving parties at the time has nobody who remotely resembles her,’ Rik continued. ‘Blondes, brunettes — even a redhead or two — but not a single Anglo-Chinese. I checked the rosters for rotations in and out; nothing there, either.’

‘Regimental records and officer training?’ Harry asked, although he could guess the result there, too.

‘She’s on the strength, but listed as on temporary secondment to ISAF — but no photo. There’s a V. Tan on the officer training rolls, but no further details. It’s like she was a cipher; there but not there.’ He took a deep breath and added, ‘I, uh. . I also took a peek at the MOD flight manifests for trips out to Afghanistan and back.’

Harry looked at him. ‘You did what?’ That was dangerously close to restricted territory. Troop movements were jealously guarded for basic security reasons: find a particular member of the military on the move, and you were within an ace of knowing which regiment was going where. Find a specialist and you knew what the concentration and focus was going to be. Allowing access to that sort of information also exposed individual personnel to danger and security leaks.

‘It’s OK,’ said Rik quickly. ‘I didn’t leave a footprint. I used a relay through the regimental records office. It’ll stop dead at a terminal with open access. She wasn’t on any of the manifests. No outs, no returns.’ He sat back, pleased with himself.

‘Good work. So what’s your conclusion?’

‘This Vanessa Tan was just a name on a list. A real looker, but not a real person.’

Harry stood up and did a turn around the room. Was that the real answer to this? That Vanessa Tan had been impossible to find because her entire existence had been a hoax? A fabrication? It hardly seemed credible, but