Chapter Ten
Piccolo Bar, Gresham Street
London, England
Carrie sighed, then reached for her teacup. She had spent fifteen minutes talking to Mary but had not learned anything useful. Mary had been quite vague in describing her relationship with Thames, the SAS operative who had disappeared. She either did not know much or was unwilling to give Carrie any specifics. “Tell me about the last time you met Thames. How did he look?”
“As he usually does.”
“Describe that.”
Mary flicked her bangs away from her eyes. “He was kind, funny...”
“Did he talk much?”
“No, not really. But most of the time, he’s quiet.”
“Was he any different?”
“No, I told you that.”
“Did he say or do anything that was strange?”
“No, not that I noticed, anyway.”
“So, what did you and Thames do?”
Mary cocked her head. “That’s private.” Her voice rose up with anger. “None of your business.”
Carrie noticed a couple of patrons in the small café giving them strange glances. She leaned closer to Mary and whispered, “I’m not asking what you did in the bedroom. I don’t want to know any of that. But you realize that I’m trying to find Thames. You want me to find him, right?”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?” she said in an annoyed voice.
“Well, then help me. What did you and Thames do during the three days he was back?”
Mary thought about her answer for a moment as she looked around the café, then out the window overlooking the traffic on Gresham Street. “We watched a movie that Friday, then on Saturday we had breakfast and went out for a long walk. The usual things couples do.”
“Did Thames go anywhere on his own?”
“No.”
“You’re sure about it?”
“Yes. Why do you keep asking me the same question?”
Carrie shrugged. “Just confirming the information. Could he have gone out while you slept?”
Mary hesitated for a second. “I ... I don’t know.”
“Think about it. Please.”
Mary nodded slowly. She took a long moment, then said, “Saturday morning, I woke up around nine or so. Malcolm, well, Thames as you call him, was in the shower. He had come back from a jog, he said.”
“Does he usually jog?”
“No, he goes to the gym, but we were at my place and the gym’s quite a way off.”
“How long was he gone?”
“He said an hour or so. Did 5K.”
“Where did he jog?”
“Around the neighborhood.”
Carrie nodded. Thames could have contacted someone during that time. Plus, he could have communicated over the phone. Mary had already told her that Thames was inseparable from his iPhone. Before Carrie could ask her next question, Mary glanced at her watch. “I have to go back to work. My coffee break is over.”
“Sure. I still have a few more questions. Can I meet with you tonight?”
Mary shrugged. “Can I say ‘no’?”
“Of course you can. You don’t have to talk to me. But anything you can tell me will bring me closer to finding Malcolm.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.” Her voice sounded genuine but rang with a tinge of disappointment.
Carrie wanted to say that she would find Thames but did not want to give Mary false hope.
Mary said, “I’ll have to cancel with a friend tonight. Let me do that, and then we can meet.”
“Okay. I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”
“Yes, that should give me sufficient time.”
Carrie stood up. “I’ll take care of this.” She pointed at her tea and Mary’s cappuccino.
“You’re sure? I mean, you don’t have to...”
“It’s all right. I can expense it,” she said, although she was not going to expense seven quid.
Carrie said “goodbye” to Mary outside the café, then watched her walk toward the east. Carrie turned in the other direction. She came to the edge of the sidewalk and began to look for a taxi. It took her a couple of minutes, but she was able to hail one. She sat in the back and gave the cab driver Trafalgar Square as the destination.
The taxi had gone a couple of blocks when Carrie’s phone rang. It was a local London number she did not recognize. “Yes, O’Connor,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Carrie, this is Mandy, Mandy Coole.”
“Yes, Coole. How did you get my number?”
“I’m not sure, but ... does it matter?”
“It depends on your answer.”
Mandy hesitated for a moment. “I ... it was in my files, like Justin’s. I can find out how it got here, if you insist.”
“No, how can I help you, Coole?”
“Call me Mandy, would you?”
“Sure, how can I help you, Mandy?” Carrie said in a slightly irritated voice.
“I’d like to meet with you. Go over some files. I have new intel.”
“Sure, let me arrange for a meeting time with Justin—”
“I tried his phone a number of times, but there’s no answer. And this is quite urgent.”
“What is it about?”
“It’s about the vanished SAS operative.”
“And...”
“We might have overlooked a couple of events during the last time he came to London.”
“Such as?”
“I’d rather not discuss this on the phone.”
“Me too, but I’m a curious gal.”
“All right, Carrie. Thames met with an old friend from their time in the SAS training.”
“Do you have a name?”
“I do. We also know, in part, what they discussed. The old friend demanded a favor.”
Carrie nodded. “Intriguing. When do you want to meet?”
“Right away. Where are you?”
Carrie glanced through the window. She saw BT written in large blue letters outside a tall office building. “We’re coming up to BT, and we’re on A40.”
“I’ll meet you in ten minutes at the Starbucks by the SIS HQ.”
“Let me check.” Carrie leaned closer to the cab driver and said, “Can you get us to Vauxhall in ten?”
“What? Ten minutes?” The cab driver shook his head. “Fifteen. Look at the traffic. Do you see the traffic? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen.”
“All right, all right, I get it.” Carrie returned to her phone. “Mandy, let’s say twenty, to be on the safe side.”
“Cheers.”
“See you.”
Carrie drew in a deep breath and sat back in her seat. That’s quite a change. Perhaps Mandy truly wants to work together. She thought about calling Justin, but then she shook her head. If Mandy couldn’t get in touch with him ... He’s probably buried in the files at the embassy.