Page 64

When he went into work the next day, Zeph felt as if what he’d done and what he was thinking were written all over his face. Clearly not because no one gave him a second glance. It was really difficult not to look guilty.

The first thing he did was delete the file with Thomas’s photo and make sure it was as unrecoverable as he could manage without it looking as though he had something to hide.

Thomas was in the system, because both Zeph and Evan had spotted him, but hadn’t been tagged as a person of interest .

For the moment, Zeph had to leave that observation in place.

The night team working on Al-Talib’s surveillance hadn’t had a busy time, though the Saudi had cancelled his booking at one of the top hotels in London, and instead stayed in a smaller boutique hotel near Canary Wharf. He’d not moved from there all night.

Zeph and Evan were still using Zeph’s program to check CCTV, but this time for the minders who’d driven Al-Talib from one hotel to the other.

Zeph found three of them coming into Heathrow a couple of days earlier, one had been on the Eurostar with the Saudi.

Zeph sent the details to his boss who messaged him back to check out a guy called Tamaz Dolidze, a Georgian banker.

“Why did he change his hotel?” Evan asked over the partition. “To keep us on our toes?”

“That assumes he knows he’s being watched.”

Evan rolled his chair around to Zeph’s side. “Or suspects it. Who’s that?”

“Tamaz Dolidze. Georgian banker. Robert just sent me his details. Are you watching the hotel?”

“Yep.” Evan rolled his chair back.

Was there a connection between Dolidze and Al-Talib?

Dolidze handled bank accounts for a disproportionately large number of charities.

Instead of thinking what a good guy he was, Zeph immediately suspected he was laundering money or siphoning it off to terrorist groups.

The deeper he looked into the charities, the more convinced he became that he was right.

Dolidze had entered the UK that morning with four minders, landing at City Airport on a flight from Paris.

Zeph pushed away from his desk and then rolled his chair back in place.

Indecision. He’d been told if he was concerned about anything, he should report it because seemingly insignificant things could be critical.

But what if he said something to Robert, fucked up Jack’s plan and caused the death of either Jack or Thomas?

Zeph’s anxiety churned his stomach. He kept adding to the information he’d uncovered and waited for Robert to come to him.