Grahamslaw yelled through his open door into the main squad office. ‘My office, something’s on!’
Across the wide, open-plan space, heads turned and conversations across desks paused. But everyone knew who the order was aimed at.
Within moments, Mick Parratt was walking through the door.
‘Surveillance team has been on,’ Grahamslaw said as Parratt closed the door. ‘Finlay met with two others in Regent’s Park. One of them is a PC from Hornchurch, name of Kevin Jones.’
‘Another one who is retired special forces, maybe?’
‘You bet. For Christ’s sake how many of them are there in the job?’
‘About twenty that we know of, and God knows how many that we don’t.’
‘Well, let’s hope they’re not all involved, eh? The man that Finlay and Jones met was heavily disguised. He gave our team the slip when they had to split up to cover all three. Jones went home and then out into the Essex countryside. He visited and looked over a deserted farmhouse and then made a call from a phone box. Right now he’s back at home.’
‘We going to let them run?’
‘I’d bet the Essex farmhouse is a safe house.’ Grahamslaw’s voice betrayed his excitement. ‘They’re gonna snatch someone and then take him there.’
‘The Iranian. Or Costello, perhaps?’
‘One of them.’ Grahamslaw perched on the edge of his desk and indicated that Parratt should sit. ‘What’s the latest on Costello?’
‘Gone to ground. We have a lot of people looking for him but nothing so far.’
‘And we’ve still no idea where the Arab is?’
‘None.’
‘Shit.’ Grahamslaw pushed himself off from his desk and walked to the internal window looking onto the main office. He surveyed his large team as they worked, some on the telephone, others beavering away on computer consoles, all of them in shirt-sleeves or blouses, jackets hanging from the backs of their chairs. ‘I bet he’s their target. That’s why they were studying his picture. They’re going to grab him, find out who stole their files and then…’
‘Kill him … what else could they do? They still think that the missing files story is genuine.’ The disgust was clear in Parratt’s voice. ‘I know I keep harping on, but murder is still a crime, guv, even in the name of national security and even if the cause is noble. I still say we should bring them in.’
‘Accepted, Mick, accepted.’ Grahamslaw turned round and paced the carpet between door and window. ‘No … you’re right. But if they know where the Arab is we can use them. We’ll have the firearms teams on full stand-by from now. When they make the attempt on the Arab, we nick ’em. Coppers or not.’
‘They haven’t sussed the surveillance then?’
‘Not if this meeting in Regent’s Park is anything to go by.’
‘What about the man they met? You said he was heavily disguised.’
‘Like he didn’t want to be recognised.’
‘Or like he knew they were being watched.’