A Line in the Sand (67 page)

blue denseness of the skies, then seemed to hover as the harrier had, and then it fell. A white line of smoke marked its passing. There was

a dull explosion away on fields to the north. The birds quietened and

circled.

e looked after the boy, Mr. Perry?"

"And who would hav

"I didn't think..."

"Then start thinking get down."

He dropped to his knees.

ad

Ahead of him, the reeds erupted as if spitting out what before h

been

hidden. The young man stood. He was small and thin. The water ran s shoulders and from his face.

from hi

447

ached behind him and lifted up the launcher tube and without

He re

hesitation he threw the tube far from him, over a bank of reeds, and it

down in clear water. Then, he bent before reappearing.

splashed

Frank

ee the dangled legs across his chest and the lolling

Perry could s

head

shoulder, and he came slowly as if a great weight burdened

behind his

him.

Frank Perry watched.

The young man carried the body of Vahid Hossein

gh

throu

the reed-banks

d out of them.

an

nder, Markham, went into the water when they were close and

The mi

made

help the young man, but the weight

to

of the carcass was not to be

shared.

The young man stepped from the mud and on to the cropped grass. The water and mud cascaded off him, and off the corpse. He climbed the bank, grunting at the effort of it, and straddled the fence of rusted barbed wire. He whistled for his dogs. He went up on to the high with the weight of the body on his shoulders.

pathway

rry noticed the harrier soar above, and wondered whether the

Frank Pe

bird was watching them.

led by the young man

They walked in file back towards the village,

with

his burden.

The villagers had heard the explosion. Some pretended they had not.

Some broke from the link of their conversation, listened, then talked again. Some heard it and crept away to a corner of privacy. It was le to escape the sound of the explosion... Davies heard

not possib

it,

, Paget and Rankin, and the nanny policewoman clutched the

and Blake

child to her in the moments after the windows had rattled at the house.

The soldiers working through the Southmarsh towards the snipers'

rifles

heard it.

rought the news to the pub. He had run at full pace from

Gussie b

the

448

g-fields overlooking Northmarsh.

pi

. They're bringing him in. He's dead."

"They've got him

edge of the village, Geoff Markham hurried to keep up with

At the

Chalmers, who carried the body easily, moving with a fast, loping

walk.

Perry was behind, and it was as if it were nothing to do with him.

He

saw the crowd gathered on the green across the road from the house, loosely, watching and waiting.

standing

When Markham caught up with

him he walked beside Chalmers, and the head of the carcass lolled

ssly against his arm.

lifele

you do it?"

"Why did

no answer, no turn of the head, no attempt at explanation.

There was

Markham thought he understood the gesture of respect for the beast.

"How did you kill him?"

Chalmers's lips were set tight... Markham looked into the dead eyes of

the corpse and saw the pallor on the face. There was a clean cut

hole in the tunic and a great bloody stain discolouring the

bullet-

material round it. At the neck, there was the mark of a bruise, a our, just below the ear.

deeper col

He saw them together, very close,

two filthy, soaked, wild creatures. There would have been no fear on

the hunted man's eyes in those last moments, and there would have

been

a gentleness on the hunter's face as he had readied the heel of his nd.

ha

The same gentleness on the moor and the mountain when he came

close to the wounded beast and its pain.

"Did he say anything?" No answer.

"Did he fight?" No answer.

"Did you feel anything?"

ndy Chalmers wouldn't be feeling sadness

Geoff Markham thought that A

or

remorse. It was what was owed to a wounded beast. It was not about a

quarrel, it was about ending the misery of pain.. . He had no more 449

questions, there was nothing more that he could think to ask... And, maybe, it was right that he should have no answers to the last moments of the life of Vahid Hossein. He thought of his commitment to the ideology he believed in, and of his untamed defiance and he thought of

the death of Meryl Perry and of Gladys Eva Jones... He thought of

those

who had milked the access knowledge of Gavin Hughes, and those who had

put the launcher in the killer's hand... He thought of those who had tied the rope to the ankle of Frank Perry, tethered him, and armed the

guns, and waited for the predator to close on him... He had no answers.

It seemed unimportant, at that moment, to Geoff Markham that he would never

what

know

had happened in those last few seconds as the launcher

was fired high into the sky and away from the target, never know of the

confrontation between the two dripping, dirty men in the marsh.

The crowd edged back as Andy Chalmers walked across the green with his

burden.

Davies was at the open door, and Blake, and Paget with Rankin,

watching.

The young man came to the front gate of the house and dropped his

shoulder so that the body fell easily from it. It crumpled, twisted, on to the grass.

The crowd stared down at the death mask and the bloodied uniform,

as if

at a creature from the darkness. The water oozed from the uniform and

the last of the blood. Markham reflected that, somewhere, a woman would weep for Vahid Hossein.

The crowd stayed back, as if they were still in fear of this intrusion into their lives, who had made them make choices, as if he still might hurt them.

sting, might bite, as if he still possessed the power to

The first of the soldiers to come said it, "Come on, you bastards, it's

licking peepshow. Show him some dignity..."

not a f

Geoff Markham said quietly, "If we went now, Andy, I think we could 450

the afternoon train to get you home."

make

wards his car, unlocked it, opened the door for Chalmers

He walked to

and his dogs.

he climbed in, he walked with purpose to the

Before

op

sh

where the post-box was. He wanted to be the solitary, private man, the

man who sat alone in the corner of a bar or a train carriage. He

wanted to be a part of the strange, neutered, unshared life of a

elligence

counter-int

officer. He wanted to walk into people's lives

walk out again.

and be able to

He wanted to be lonely, like the woman

th the red hair who was a lege

wi

nd... He took the sodden letter from

his pocket and dropped it into the post-box.

s sitting expressionless beside him

As he drove away, with Chalmer

d

an

the smell of the marsh water filling his car, Markham saw the crowd dispersing, and he saw Paget spreading a bedroom blanket

reluctantly

over the carcass of the beast.

He had welcomed his guest at the restaurant's door, smiled, and held hand in greeting.

out his

Harry Fenton had seen the rank suspicion

on

igence officer's face.

the intell

He had led him to the corner table.

k to the restaurant's

Fenton had grinned before they sat and, his bac

ients, he had quickly unbuttoned his shirt, lifted his vest, had

cl

exposed his chest, as if to convince the guest that no recording

e

devic

was strapped to his body.

"I thought it was good that we should meet, because misunderstandings amage our mutual relations."

can so d

He had laid his mobile telephone on the tablecloth, taken the menu cards and he'd told the intelligence officer that he would order for him.

had thought the intelligence officer would have cleared the

He

short-notice invitation with his head of section, with his

ambassador,

and ultimately with his Tehran control. The man had been wary but not

nervous, and Fenton had thought him an experienced professional.

"There are four names that I wish to throw at you, my friend, and you

should listen most carefully to what I say, because the implications of

451

our conversation are a matter of some importance."

They ate, Fenton heavily and the intelligence officer with little

asm. The mobile telephone had lain silent beside Fenton's

enthusi

place.

"It's a question of deals. We are into the business of negotiation.

Let us begin with the names. There is the name of Brigadier Kashef he mission mounted into this country, we have ample

Saderi. For t

evidence of his involvement. Yusuf Khan, formerly Winston Summers, rmed guard in hospital.

currently under a

Farida Yasmin Jones, now

dead, strangled... There is Vahid Hossein."

me, Harry Fenton had smiled and looked

Each time he had given a na

up

into the intelligence officer's eyes. The man didn't blink, or turn away. Himself, confronted with names, he would have wanted to puke up

his food. Of all those he knew at Thames House and worked with, he'd thought only little Miss Prim Parker would have held her composure as

well as the intelligence officer had. Of course she would; it was Cathy who had come back from the airport with the idea of shafting the

bastards, the esteemed allies. Smiling into his guest's face, he

let

the names sink, then resumed eating. He cleared his plate. He had ordered gelati for them both, and requested espresso coffee to

follow.

"Around Vahid Hossein a net is currently tightening."

The tables around them had cleared. Bills were paid. The

restaurant

staff found coats, umbrellas and shopping bags for their clients.

Fenton admired the calm of the intelligence officer. The coffee was brought.

The mobile telephone bleeped.

Fenton sipped at his coffee.

He let the telephone ring.

He returned the cup slowly to the saucer.

452

He lifted the telephone and listened. A smile played on his face.

He

thanked his caller. The intelligence officer watched him for a sign.

ank again from his coffee cup, wiped his mouth with his napkin

He dr

then leaned forward.

"Vahid Hossein is dead my condolences. He was brought out of the ike a stinking, slime-ridden rat, dead.

marshes l

It's the way these

We are faced1 because of

things end, I suppose, without decency.

the

weight of evidence, with a most serious situation involving

ons

relati

between our two countries yes?"

Harry Fenton raised his hand, flicked his fingers imperiously for

the

bill to be brought him.

"Allow me to answer my own question. No it can be that it never d, but "never happened" comes at a price."

happene

t spread, for the first time, on the intelligence

Astonishmen

officer's

lip.

face, and he bit his

er happened, and therefore it never happens again.

"It nev

I repeat,

it

never happened. And your agents never again threaten the life of

Frank

Perry. It's an attractive solution to both of us."

The intelligence officer reached out and grasped Harry Fenton's hand.

The deal was done with their locked fists.

He paid the bill and carefully pocketed the receipt. It was the last nton's lunches. A few minutes later, after the close

of Harry Fe

whispering of details, they were out on the pavement and he waved

down

a taxi for his guest. He started to walk back towards Thames House.

The body would go from a closed van into the cargo hold of the

aircraft. The threat against the life of Frank Perry would not be renewed. The Americans, arrogant shits, were shafted and their

staffers would have no brief to spell out in front of the cameras.

Peace was preserved, deniability ruled, and the bridges remained in place. The bottles would be broken out of Barnaby Cox's cabinet to celebrate a good, most satisfactory show.

453

walked at a breezy pace, and he laughed out loud.

He

ever happened.

It had n

ck at Thames House, he told Cox what

Ba

he had achieved and the raid

on

e cabinet began.

th

nton was downing his second drink, might have been the third, when Fe

an

director wandered into the office.

assistant

st heard well done, Barney.

"I've ju

Up on the top floor we're all

very

ed, but then we always had confidence that you'd get it right.

pleas

My

ngratulations, Barney."