Page 29 of End Game (William Warwick #8)

W ILLIAM HAD JUST FALLEN ASLEEP for the third time that night when the alarm went off.

He came out of his dream and placed the palm of his hand on the alarm button, but the insistent sound didn’t cease.

He blinked, opened his eyes, and looked across to find it wasn’t the alarm but the phone that was ringing.

‘Petrov has just left the Russian Embassy,’ said a voice he immediately recognized, ‘and I wouldn’t have woken you if he hadn’t been carrying a shoebox.’

William was suddenly wide awake.

‘One of my men is already on his tail,’ said Professor Meredith, ‘but it won’t be too long before he’s spotted, so you’ll have to move quickly.’

William pressed the emergency button on his phone, and within moments three new voices said, ‘Good morning, sir,’ in different degrees of alertness.

‘Which of you is closest to Kensington Palace Gardens?’ William asked, without explanation.

‘I’m in Hyde Park on my morning run, so could be there in a few minutes,’ said Ross, as he changed direction and turned his jog into a flat-out run.

‘I’m on a bus heading for Scotland Yard, sir,’ said Jackie. ‘If I get off at the next stop and grab a taxi, I should be there in about ten minutes, fifteen at the most.’

‘Call me the moment you’re in the taxi,’ said William. ‘And you, Paul?’

‘I’m in bed, sir,’ said Paul ‘I’ve just come off the night shift.’

‘Then you’re just in time to start the day shift,’ said William. ‘Call me the moment you’re dressed and are leaving. You’ll need your motorbike.’

‘And a good morning to you too, sir,’ said Paul, as he almost fell out of bed.

‘Where is Petrov now?’ asked William, switching back to the Professor.

‘He’s heading east along the Bayswater Road,’ said Meredith, ‘and it looks as if he’s about to enter Hyde Park. At this time of the morning, the park is fairly quiet, so it will be much easier to spot someone following him. At most, my man has only got a few more minutes before he’s blown.’

‘I have the eye,’ said an out-of-breath Ross. ‘He’s about a quarter of a mile away heading directly for me. I’m going to have to run straight past him and hope he doesn’t recognize me.’

‘Is he still carrying the shoebox?’ asked William.

‘Yes, he’s got it under his arm,’ said Ross. ‘Do I arrest him this time?’

‘No,’ said William.

‘Petrov’s next move will be to cross a road,’ came in Meredith. ‘A simple way to check if anyone is following him.’

‘Bang on cue,’ said Ross, as he watched Petrov nip in and out of the early morning traffic before reaching the pavement on the other side of the road.

‘Where are you, Jackie?’ asked William.

‘I’m in a taxi, just entering the north end of the park.’

‘Look out for a man heading in your direction, holding a shoebox.’

‘Got him,’ replied Jackie.

‘Dump your taxi before he sees you and keep an eye out for who he might be meeting. It’s vital we find out who he gives the shoebox to. Take as many photographs as possible, in case we lose them.’

Jackie stopped the taxi, paid the fare and leapt out. She took a seat on a nearby park bench and pretended to read her magazine, while keeping her phone ready so she could take photographs of whoever Petrov might be meeting.

···

Petrov slowed down, took out his phone and touched a button on his speed dial.

He had not only spotted Meredith’s man, as well as the track-suited officer who’d chased after him in the Olympic Stadium, but he couldn’t miss the woman who’d just jumped out of a taxi in the middle of the road, then sat on the nearest park bench and pretended to be reading a magazine.

Did they take him for a fool? They must be here to intercept the handover, or at least find out who he was handing the box to.

If they succeeded, Sun Anqi’s identity would be discovered, along with any plans she had for the closing ceremony.

‘I’ve been blown,’ said Petrov when Sun Anqi came on the line. ‘I was followed by a couple of men and now there’s a woman in the park keeping a close eye on me.’

‘I told you not to underestimate Warwick,’ said Sun Anqi, making no attempt to hide her contempt. ‘Description?’

‘Female. Fortyish. Five foot four to five, blonde hair, slim build. She’s carrying a white handbag and is sitting on a bench by the road pretending to read a magazine.’

‘Change of plan,’ said Sun Anqi, as she turned back and joined a bus queue. ‘Call Miles Faulkner and tell him I still need the package, but don’t warn him you’ve been spotted.’

‘But—’ began Petrov.

‘No buts,’ said Sun Anqi. ‘If anyone else is going to be caught, let it be the Englishman, because I can’t afford to show up on their radar.’ She rang off.

···

Jackie watched Petrov as he ended one call and began another, while still holding firmly onto the shoebox. She was still expecting him to meet up with someone, when the exchange would surely take place.

Jackie looked the other way as he continued walking towards her and saw a small woman, possibly Asian, who was on the phone while joining the end of a bus queue. The woman’s conversation ended only moments before Petrov came off the phone. Coincidence?

What wasn’t a coincidence was that when the bus pulled up, the woman didn’t get on, leaving her standing all alone. Jackie took a photo of her just in case.

···

Petrov was back on the phone. Sun Anqi thought about not answering it, but couldn’t take the risk.

‘She spotted you,’ said Petrov, almost triumphantly. ‘She even took your photograph.’

Sun Anqi turned away as a Rolls-Royce entered the park.

···

Jackie ignored the woman in the bus queue, who had turned her back on her. She concentrated instead on the Rolls-Royce, but when it passed her, she couldn’t see who was seated in the back, as the windows were heavily tinted. However, the number plate MF1 told her all she needed to know.

She was not surprised when the car slowed down and Petrov passed the box through an open window to the car’s occupant, hardly breaking his stride.

Jackie was immediately on the phone to William to let him know what she’d just witnessed. ‘Do I grab a taxi and follow him?’

‘No,’ said William, ‘stay put until they are both out of sight. But tell me what you can about the woman.’

‘She was standing alone in a bus queue and was on her phone at the same time as Petrov. But when the bus arrived, she didn’t get on it. I took a photo just in case.’

‘Description?’

‘Barely five foot, Asian would be my guess, mid-thirties.’

‘It’s a long shot,’ said William, ‘but go back to Scotland Yard and see if you can find anything in records that matches up with her photograph. Let me know immediately if you find something.’

···

Sun Anqi got on the next bus, not part of the original plan. She sat upstairs as it drove past the park and looked down at the woman. She was no longer reading her magazine, but had her eyes fixed on Petrov, who was now leaving the park, without the shoebox.

Sun Anqi got off at the next stop and waited.

···

‘Ross?’ said William. ‘Where are you?’

‘Still in the park, but I think he spotted me, so I ran straight past him and didn’t look back.’

‘Paul?’

‘I can see the Rolls-Royce coming into view,’ Paul replied.

‘Don’t lose it. This time, arrest Faulkner when he gets out of the car and, more importantly, find out what’s in that box and let me know immediately.’

‘Will do, sir,’ said Paul, who swung his bike around and began to follow the Rolls.

‘And don’t forget that Collins is as sharp as a tack,’ said William, ‘and he’ll spot a motorbike following him within moments. Petrov has played his part, Ross is blown and Jackie’s on her way back to Scotland Yard, so, Paul, make a name for yourself.’

William got out of bed and headed for a shower that had been on cold for the past month.

···

Faulkner’s car phone began to ring. He grabbed it.

‘Plan B,’ said a voice he immediately recognized.

Faulkner put the phone down.

‘We’re being followed,’ said Collins. ‘A motorbike about fifty yards back. He’s been with us for the last couple of miles.’

Faulkner looked down at the box on his lap. He could hear Booth Watson saying, Get out while you still can. But it was too late now, and one thing was certain, he couldn’t afford to be caught with the box. He carried out the second part of plan B.

‘Head for the North Greenwich cable car,’ said Faulkner.

Collins made a u-turn and headed for the Thames, followed by the motorbike. He only slowed down when they reached the cable car.

Faulkner leapt out of the Rolls carrying a shoebox.

He went straight to the front of a long queue, handed the ticket collector a twenty-pound note and jumped into the first available cabin, while ignoring the murmurs of protest coming from behind him.

When the cable car moved off, Faulkner sat back and watched his pursuer dump his motorbike and also run to the front of the queue.

He showed the ticket collector his warrant card – a dead giveaway – then jumped into the first available cabin.

Faulkner double-checked: his pursuer was five cars behind, but had no way of joining him.

Faulkner thought for a moment, before phoning Bernie Longe. This was Longe’s backyard, after all, and it was time to call in a favour if Longe wanted the rest of the ten million.

Longe told him exactly what he should do the moment he got off the cable car.

Paul called William and brought him up to date. After William had put the phone down, he rang the senior officer at Greenwich police station.

During the fifteen-minute aerial journey above the city, most of the passengers enjoyed identifying landmarks – the London Eye, St Paul’s Cathedral, the Thames Barrier and the Olympic Park – as they continued on their journey ninety metres above the Thames.

Paul sat back and avoided looking in the direction of his quarry, as Faulkner had nowhere else to go.

By the time they came to a halt on the other side of the river, Paul was sitting on the edge of his seat, preparing to leap off the moment he could.

When Faulkner reached the terminal and his door was opened, he jumped out of his cabin, but didn’t head straight for the exit.

He ran to the signal box at the other end of the platform, to find the controller was waiting for him.

The cable car suddenly came to a halt, leaving Paul stranded in mid-air. He would have jumped the last few feet, but his cabin door remained resolutely closed.

Faulkner emerged from the signal box a few moments later, his wallet two hundred pounds lighter. The controller had given him more than enough time to make good his escape.

To add insult to injury, the controller made a public announcement over the loudspeaker apologizing to customers for the short delay. Technical problems, he explained.

···

‘I’ve lost him,’ Paul said over the line. ‘Bloody cable car – someone must have bribed the controller.’

‘Not to worry,’ said William. ‘He’s not going anywhere, so catch up with him as quickly as you can.’

Paul didn’t need to be told what William had been up to while he was stranded above the Thames.

···

Faulkner strolled out onto Western Gateway, shoebox under one arm, wondering how long it would be before …

A squad car pulled up beside him. Three officers leapt out and surrounded him.

‘How can I help you?’ said Faulkner, while offering his most innocent smile.

‘We’ll take the box for a start, sir,’ said the senior officer.

Faulkner handed it over, just as an out-of-breath Paul appeared by their side. He produced his warrant card, and the box once again changed hands.

···

‘Where are you, Jackie?’ asked William, switching phones.

‘Just entering the tube station, sir. I’ll call you the moment I reach the Yard and report back if the photo reveals anything.’

She stepped onto the escalator as her phone went dead.

···

William turned his attention back to Paul and waited impatiently as he climbed into the back of the squad car.

‘Get on with it,’ said William.

Paul stared at the box for some time before he slowly removed the lid. He gasped.

‘So what’s inside?’ demanded William.

Paul stared down into an empty box.

···

Collins drove for some time, taking slip roads and doubling back, but didn’t head for the plan B rendezvous until he was convinced no one was following him.

He finally came to a halt outside a Chinese restaurant in Soho, where the head waiter didn’t take a booking, just a shoebox, which he delivered to one of his regulars who was seated in an alcove.

‘And what would you like for your main course, Ambassador?’ asked the head waiter.

···

Jackie stepped off the escalator and headed for the District Line.

Five stops to St James’s, followed by a short walk across to Scotland Yard.

As soon as she was back, she would search the photographs stored on the system, and if the woman she’d spotted turned out to be part of the relay team, her description would be circulated to everyone working in Olympic security within the hour.

She didn’t notice the tiny woman a few steps behind her on the escalator, hidden behind a large man hugging his girlfriend.

When she reached the platform, Jackie only had to wait a couple of minutes before she heard the rumble of an approaching train in the distance. She looked to her left and took a pace forward as the train emerged from the tunnel.

The woman slipped in behind her, and, with a well-practised movement that would have impressed a seasoned pickpocket, deftly removed the mobile phone from Jackie’s bag.

But when she felt a hand touch the small of her back, Jackie swung around, just in time to recognize the woman from the bus queue, before one almighty shove propelled her forward. Jackie couldn’t stop herself from falling onto the track.

The driver immediately slammed on his brakes, and although the train came screeching to a halt, it was already too late. Screams and gasps followed from the passengers waiting on the platform as Jackie was hit by the train.