Part 12 (1/2)
”She's still with the Met. Always seemed to have a thing for you.”
”As I recall, she's a lesbian.”
”So what does that say about your girlish charms, mate? Anyway, she's bound to help, provided you ask nicely.”
”f.u.c.k.”
”Uh-huh.” Haresh held up his phone. ”Is that 'f.u.c.k' as in 'loadsa-f.u.c.kin-thanks-to-all-my-mates-for-doingme-a-good-turn'? The kind of thanks I can pa.s.s on to Geordie?”
Josh rolled his shoulder muscles as if loosening up for a fight. Then he blew out a breath.
”Yeah. That kind. Thank you.”
”Any time.”
[ TEN ].
From the time he parked in front of the gate and waved to the camera, to sitting down in a leather armchair in what the maid yes, a maid called the drawing room, he felt out of his depth. But taking in the cream and pale-yellow walls, polished wooden floor and expensive fittings, it felt more and more impersonal, like a hotel, not a home. And for all that Philip Broomhall might be rich, he commanded fewer resources than senior military officers, the best of whom were always approachable.
He waited, something he was good at, comparing this to the cramped, messy flat in Brixton where Mum and Dad had raised him: overflowing with cus.h.i.+ons and tattered books, housework readily put aside in favour of a chat or reading. The military had drilled neatness into him; otherwise Josh was his parents' son, and they had raised him in a warmer place than this.
”Mr c.u.mberland? Josh? I'm Philip.”
”Sir.” Josh controlled his grip as they shook. ”Good to meet you.”
”What I want is simple. My son is missing and I need him back.”
”Understood. Clearly the police haven't got anywhere, or I wouldn't be here.”
”I'm told you're an expert.”
”I can construct specific searches, use profiling, and talk to people who might avoid the police.” ELINT and HUMINT, electronic intelligence and human intelligence, were grist to the mill; and he had access to algorithms and bots undreamt of by Scotland Yard's Serious Systems Crimes Unit. ”Is there any specific person who'd want to do you harm?”
”No, and there's not been any kind of ransom demand. Richard slipped out of the car by himself, you know.”
”I'd like to speak to the driver.”
”Lexa's here. You'll be able to talk to her.”
”Thank you. I don't suppose there were cameras in the car?”
”Absolutely not. I'm often on the phone discussing confidential matters, or riding with business partners I'm negotiating with. No recordings permitted, ever.”
Broomhall headed for a cabinet, picked up a whisky gla.s.s, and raised an eyebrow.
”Not for me, thanks,” said Josh. ”I'll read the file, but are there any friends of Richard's that spring to mind?”
”He was in the chess club at school.” Broomhall poured dark rum. ”Dropped the science club because he preferred just to read by himself, he said.”
Clubs, not individuals.
”It would help if I can go through his room. Have the police done that?”
”No, they b.l.o.o.d.y well have not.”
”You're worried about him. About Richard.”
”He's soft.” Broomhall's left hand rested on his own heavy abdomen. ”Not tough like... I work to keep my family. Since his mother... I'm a widower, you see.” Swirling rum in his gla.s.s, he stared into the liquid. ”He's important to me. Understand that. I'm not sure Richard does.”
”I get it. Was there anything troubling Richard particularly?”
If there had been, Broomhall probably hadn't noticed.
”He was normal, except for going to see that b.l.o.o.d.y shrink, and then he didn't even make it home. What do you make of that? b.i.t.c.h is still practicing, still s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g other patients' minds.”
”I'll need details of that as well.”
”So I hope you're a d.a.m.n sight better than she turned out to be.”
”Why do you say that?”
”Obviously becauseWell, because the same person recommended you both, but in your case he checked more carefully. So he's a.s.sured me.”
”Who's that, if you don't mind me asking?”
”More of a second opinion. I came up with the idea originally, got the name of Biggs' company from someone. But I pa.s.sed your name to a friend who works in the DTI, and he tells me you're good.”
”Me personally?”
”That's what I mean.”
There were civil servants who could check special forces records, but not in the Department of Trade and Industry. Broomhall knew less about his friend than he realised.
”Is there anyone I should be talking to besides the driver, Lexa?”
”The rest of the staff, I guess. Lexa can show you round.” Broomhall took his phone from his pocket, and said into it: ”Mr c.u.mberland is ready.”
”Thank you. What about Richard's school? I don't know for sure yet, but a visit might help.”
”I'll let the headmaster know. He should be helpful, the amount we pay each year. I pay.”
Then a broad-shouldered woman walked through an archway, and nodded to Josh.