The Hornbeam Tree (33 page)

Laurie was seated opposite the arch conservative, Sir Christopher Malton, feeling probably only half as awed as he would like, for there had been no mistaking the condescension that emanated from behind his horn-rimmed glasses as he’d deigned to glance up from his desk upon her arrival.

‘I appreciate you seeing me at such short notice,’ she said, as the door closed behind his assistant who’d offered neither coffee, nor to take her coat.

‘It will have to be brief,’ he told her, not bothering to hide his impatience, nor to look up from the notes he was making.

‘Then I’ll come straight to the point,’ she said. ‘What can you tell me about an elite military/intelligence task force called the Proactive Pre-emptive Operations Group, or P2OG for short?’

Frowning, he turned over a page and continued to read as he said, ‘I believe it was an idea generated by certain members of the US Defense Department back in 2002, and commissioned for analysis by a group of experts.’

Surprised that he’d answered so readily, she said, ‘So it doesn’t actually exist, except on paper?’

‘I believe that is what I said,’ he responded, still engrossed in his paperwork.

She noted down his answer, then looked at him again.

‘What do you know about the details of a terrorist plot that were leaked to Tom Chambers?’ she asked.

A few seconds ticked by before he said, ‘Who?’

‘Tom Chambers,’ she repeated.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Noting that he’d said ‘what’ and not ‘who’, she asked, ‘Are you telling me you’ve never heard of Tom Chambers?’

Sighing, he put down his pen and linked his long, arthritic fingers on the stack of papers in front of him. ‘What is your point, Ms Forbes?’ he said shortly.

‘My point is,’ she said, ‘that the US authorities have enlisted the help of our own law enforcement in their search for Tom Chambers, and I was hoping, as a member of the Joint Intelligence Committee, that you could tell me why they are so keen to interview him.’

His steely eyes bored into hers, almost causing her to flinch. ‘If you require information concerning the police,’ he responded, ‘wouldn’t you do better to talk to them?’

‘I have. They’re not very forthcoming either, so maybe I’ll ask the question again, what do you know about the details of a terrorist plot that were leaked to Tom Chambers?’

He started to answer, then seemed to rethink, and scrutinized her in a way that was clearly meant to intimidate, and after almost a minute of it came close to succeeding. ‘Terrorist plots, or let’s say, what appear to be terrorist plots,’ he said finally, ‘are coming to light one way or another all the time, so unless you can be more specific, I’m afraid I can’t give you an answer.’

Realizing he was fishing for information, she said, ‘I’m referring to a plot concerning the Sizewell B Nuclear Power Station.’

His eyes immediately widened. ‘I can assure you, if any such plot had come to the attention of the intelligence services I would know about it, and as I don’t, I think that rather puts your colleague’s source into question.’

Grateful for such an accommodating lead-in, she said, ‘What do you know about Joshua Shine?’

Not a muscle in his furrowed face flickered as he said, ‘I don’t believe I’m familiar with the name.’

‘He was the Political Officer at the US Consulate in Lahore. We’ve been trying to reach him, but he seems to have disappeared.’

He merely looked at her, as though expecting her to enlighten him with the relevance of this new subject.

‘Do you know where he is?’ she asked.

‘I believe I just told you I’ve never heard of him,’ he replied. ‘And as your enquiries seem to be focusing on Americans, wouldn’t you be better served at the US Embassy?’

Laurie was writing in her notepad. ‘“Never heard of him,” ’ she quoted under her breath. Then looking up again, she resumed her smile and ignoring his question said, ‘Sir Christopher, how long have you been a member of the British-American Project for a Successor Generation?’

He face turned to stone.

‘I’m sorry. Do you have an objection to answering?’ she asked. ‘I mean, it’s not classified information, is it?’

‘Of course not, I’m simply curious to know what relevance it has to what we were discussing.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out,’ she confessed. ‘You are a member, aren’t you?’

‘I am.’

‘And you do meet regularly with other members, both sides of the Atlantic?’

‘I wouldn’t say regularly, but yes, we meet from time to time.’

‘Have you met recently, to discuss Tom Chambers?’

His head drew back. ‘I am not about to divulge details of meetings that have absolutely nothing to do with you,’ he responded witheringly.

‘So you have discussed Tom Chambers?’

‘That is not what I said.’

Her heart was starting to thud as she glanced down at her notes. ‘But you were with Daniel Allbringer of the US Defense Intelligence Board, in
Florida
on October 1st and 2nd this year?’ she said.

His face darkened, showing his annoyance at this checking of his movements.

‘You were also in Washington, just after that, attending a meeting with several other members of the British and American intelligence services?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you didn’t discuss Tom Chambers, or the leaked details of a terrorist plot that has Sizewell B as its focus?’

Leaning forward he said, ‘It was not on the agenda, but even if it were, I can assure you, it is not a matter I would be discussing with you.’

‘I see,’ she replied, making a point of writing his answer down again, not because she’d forget, but because she wanted to unsettle him. ‘Mr Allbringer’s considered something of a hawk in his own country, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘No, it’s OK, you don’t have to answer that, it’s a matter of record, as are your own similar views on pre-emptive action.’

The skin round his mouth was starting to pale. ‘Where’s the question, Ms Forbes?’ he demanded.

‘Oh, there are plenty,’ she responded. ‘Perhaps you can tell me how many members of your elite British-American society stand to gain, either financially or politically, by aligning themselves with the neo-conservatives? In fact, what I would really like to know is how deeply the neo-cons are involved, through members of your society, in setting our own political agenda, and to what lengths any of you might go to ensure a continuance of power?’

He was on his feet, face quivering with outrage, but before he could speak she said, ‘Please tell me
what
you know about the terrorist plot that has fallen into Tom Chambers’s hands.’

His eyes bulged behind their lenses.

‘Have any arrests been made as a result of this plot being uncovered?’ she asked.

He didn’t answer.

‘Is that a yes or a no?’ she prompted.

‘This interview is over,’ he snarled, starting for the door.

‘So a terrorist cell is penetrated, a plot uncovered, and in spite of knowing who’s involved, no arrests are made.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Something’s not right here, Sir Christopher, is it?’

Coming to tower over her, he spoke in a fiercely sibilant voice. ‘You may think you’re clever with all you’ve managed to deduce so far, but let me tell you, you’re jumping to all the wrong conclusions. The information Tom Chambers has is false. It was planted on him by a rogue agent, who is waging a personal vendetta against his own government. The agent concerned is now under arrest.’

‘And this agent would be?’

A quick sharpness in his eyes told her he’d just realized his mistake.

‘The man whose name you’re not familiar with,’ she reminded him.

For a horrible moment she thought he was going to strike her, then quite suddenly his whole demeanour changed. ‘Look,’ he said, assuming a long-suffering, almost avuncular air, ‘I fully appreciate why you and your friends think there’s a story here, but let me assure you, there isn’t. Let me also remind you that Elliot Russell is bound by an
agreement
to cease all investigative reporting for the period of one year. I don’t believe that time is up.’

‘Do I look like Elliot Russell?’ she said tightly.

As he started to respond the phone rang and snatching it up he listened to the voice at the other end, then said, ‘Thank you,’ and rang off.

‘That was a reminder that I’m already late for my next meeting,’ he told her. ‘However, I want to say this before you go – Elliot Russell is a fine reporter, you both are, so you’re doing yourselves a grave disservice by becoming involved in crackpot conspiracy theories that are never going to hold up under any amount of scrutiny. So I would suggest, if you want to retain the well-deserved credibility you have earned, that you give up on this nonsense now, before your reputations and your careers become damaged beyond repair.’

The unexpected tone of sincerity startled her, and remained with her as she rode the lift down to the ground floor and stepped outside into the chill, windy thoroughfare of Whitehall. It wasn’t that she’d been taken in by it, because she hadn’t. However, it was intriguing her that this was now the second time she’d been warned to safeguard her career.

‘It confirms,’ Elliot responded down the line when she told him, ‘that they’re already planning to do everything they can to discredit Tom, if he goes public with what he has.’

‘Precisely,’ she said, hailing a cab as it turned out of Horseguards.

‘And he claims Joshua Shine is under arrest?’ he continued. ‘On what charges?’

‘I don’t know. He didn’t use the name, but it’s definitely who he was talking about.’

‘I’ll get Max on to it. Where are you now?’

‘On my way home. Hang on.’ After giving the driver her address, she jumped into the back of the cab and slammed the door. ‘So, to precis,’ she said, as they merged into the traffic, ‘Sir Christopher now knows everything Tom wants him to know, and he’s definitely worried. More than worried. He also wants me to remind you of your agreement to shut down for a year.’

‘As if I’d forgotten,’ he responded. ‘You sound tired.’

‘Not really, just coming down after the adrenalin rush of challenging someone with the power to destroy me.’

There was a smile in his voice as he said, ‘It’s not going to happen.’

Finding herself wishing he’d be there when she got back, she resisted telling him so and said, ‘I’ll put everything in an email when I get home. Any more news your end?’

‘Nothing you don’t already know.’

‘I’ll talk to you later then.’

‘Sure.’

Neither of them rang off, and as she sat listening to the silence she was imagining him at the other end, the sternness of his expression that covered the pain, the stillness of his body that masked the unrest. She wanted so much to tell him she missed him, because it was how she felt, but then she thought of Nick and her eyes closed in despair.

‘Better go,’ she whispered, and ended the call.

A moment later, as the taxi cut across Trafalgar
Square
, her phone rang again. She held on to it, staring out of the window, wanting it to be him calling back, but when she looked at the readout it was Katie’s number on the display.

‘How did it go?’ Michelle asked.

‘I’m putting it all in an email to Elliot,’ she answered. ‘I’ll send you a copy, but in a nutshell, when I asked what part the neo-cons are playing on the British political stage I obviously hit a very sore spot.’

‘Interesting,’ Michelle murmured. ‘Did you mention anything about the British-American Successor Generation?’

‘Absolutely. Another hit. God they make me sick with all their exclusive societies, think tanks, top secret projects … It’s all highly suspect if you ask me, downright Masonic even. How to make the very rich even richer, and keep the rest of us in a state of fear, or ignorance or just plain dumb servitude to their billion-dollar empires.’

‘I agree with everything you’re saying,’ Michelle responded. ‘But are you all right? You sound a bit flat.’

Laurie sighed. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured her. ‘Just sounding off. How’s Katie?’

‘Actually, in a filthy mood, but I’m not allowed to say so.’

‘Is she there?’

‘Her breath is burning my neck.’

Laurie heard Katie laugh.

‘She’d speak to you,’ Michelle continued, ‘but there are three doughnuts currently being masticated right in front of her vocal cords. However, she wants to know if you’d like to stay
here
on Friday night, because she can either force Molly to sleep with her, so you can have Molly’s bed, or she can kick me downstairs on to the sofa. And given the shortness of her fuse at the moment the kicking won’t be metaphorical.’

Laughing, Laurie said, ‘
I’ll
take the sofa, and thank you for the invitation.’

‘We’ll argue that one when you get here.’

‘We miss you,’ Katie shouted from the background.

‘I miss you too,’ Laurie responded, realizing how true it was.

There was a click and Michelle said, ‘You’re on the speaker now.’

‘I said, I miss you too,’ Laurie repeated. ‘Why are you in a bad mood, Katie?’

‘Oh, I’m on the ropes again, getting the stuffing beaten out of me by my reluctance to leave this planet, so I’ve been picking on Michelle, trying to make her think it’s all her fault. No luck so far, and anyway I’m about to make a comeback. Seconds out, round six to survival. Doughnuts help, so bring Krispy Kremes when you come.’

‘This is your bad mood?’ Laurie challenged.

‘Speaking to you instantly cheers me up,’ Katie informed her. ‘I’m really looking forward to the weekend, with or without the camera. Is that someone else trying to get through?’ she asked, reacting to a bleep on the line.

‘Sounds like it,’ Laurie replied. ‘I should probably take it,’ and after promising to call again later, she switched over to the other line without checking who it was.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ Nick said.

The jolt she felt just to hear him almost swallowed her voice. ‘You’re up early,’ she responded, echoing his sleepy tone.

‘It’s almost seven o’clock, and I was lying here thinking about you.’

She wanted to ask what kind of thoughts, but forced herself to say, ‘I’ve just come from Sir Christopher Malton’s office.’