And Thereby Hangs a Tale (25 page)

He always studied the photos of the suspects
being led away by the police, and on one occasion he could have sworn that. . .

Arnold had just finished interviewing a
customer about a mortgage appliew Rrtgrn th q Rrtgrn tcation when the phone on
his desk rang.

'There's a Sergeant Roberts on the line,'
said his secretary.

'Just give me a moment,' said Arnold. He could
feel his heart racing as he bustled the customer out of his office and closed
the door behind him.

'Good morning, Sergeant.'

'Good morning, sir,' came back a voice he
recognized. 'I was wondering if you were planning to be in London during the
next few days. It's just that I'd like to bring you up to date on what our
surveillance team has come up with.' Arnold began to thumb through his diary. 'If
that's not convenient,' the sergeant continued, 'I'd be happy to visit you in
Bury St Edmunds.'

'No, no,' said Arnold, 'I'll be coming up to
London on Friday evening. It's my sister's birthday, and I'm taking her to see
The Sound of Music at the London Palladium.'

'Good, then I wonder if you could spare the time
to pop in to Scotland Yard, say around five o'clock, because I know that
Commander Harrison is very keen to have a word with you.'

'That will be fine,' said Arnold, looking
down at the blank page. He made a note in his diary, not that he was likely to
forget.

'Good,' said the sergeant. 'I'll meet you in
reception at five o'clock on Friday.'

As the week went by, Arnold couldn't help thinking
that he was looking forward to meeting Commander Harrison more than he was to
seeing The Sound of Music.

Arnold left the office just after lunch on
Friday, explaining to his secretary that he had an important appointment in
London. When he arrived at Liverpool Street station he went straight to the
taxi rank, as he didn't want to be late for the meeting.

The taxi swung into the forecourt of
Scotland Yard a few minutes before five, and Arnold was pleased to see Sergeant
Roberts standing by the reception desk waiting for him.

'Good to see you again, Mr Pennyworthy,' said
Roberts. They shook hands, and the sergeant guided Arnold towards a bank of
lifts.

He chatted about The Sound of Music, which he'd
taken his wife to see at Christmas, while they waited for the lift, and about
the parlous state of English rugby while they were in the lift. He hadn't even
hinted why Commander Harrison wanted to see Arnold by the time the lift doors
opened on the sixth floor.

Roberts led Arnold to a door at the far end
of the corridor, which displayed the name Commander Mark Harrison OBE. He gave
a gentle tap, waited for a moment, then opened the door and walked in.

The commander immediately rose from behind
his desk and gave Arnold a warm smile before shaking hands with him. 'Good to meet
you at last,' he said lesques Ne qlesques Nd. 'Can I offer you a drink?'

'No, thank you,' said Arnold, now even more desperate
to discover why such a senior officer wanted to see him.

'I know you're going to the theatre this
evening, Mr Penny-worthy, so I'll get straight to the point,' said the
commander, waving Arnold to a seat. 'I must explain from the outset,' he
continued, 'that the case I'm going to discuss with you is due to begin at the
Old Bailey next week, so there will be some details I'm not at liberty to
disclose, although I feel sure I can rely on your complete discretion,
Mr Pennyworthy.'

'I fully understand,' said Arnold.

'Let me begin by saying how grateful we all are
at the Yard for the information you supplied. I think I can say without
exaggeration that you have been responsible for uncovering one of the most
active terrorist cells in this country. In fact, it's hard to quantify just how
many lives you may have been responsible for saving.'

'I did no more than what I considered to be my
duty,' said Arnold.

'You did far more, believe me,' said the
commander. 'Because of the information you supplied, Mr Pennyworthy, we've been
able to arrest fifteen terrorist suspects, one of whom, the man who rented the
flat on your corridor, was undoubtedly the cell chief. At a house in
Birmingham which he led us to, we discovered explosive devices, bomb-making equipment
and detailed plans of buildings, along with the names of high-profile
individuals the group planned to target, including a member of the royal
family. Frankly, Mr Pennyworthy, you contacted us just in time.'

Arnold beamed as the commander continued, 'I
only wish we could make your contribution public, but you will understand the restrictions
we're under in such cases, not least when it comes to your own safety.'

'Yes, of course,' said Arnold, trying not to
sound disappointed.

'But when you read the press reports of the case
next week, you can take some satisfaction from knowing the role you played in bringing
this group of violent criminals to justice.'

'Couldn't agree more, sir,' chipped in the sergeant.

Arnold didn't know what to say.

'I won't keep you any longer, Mr
Pennyworthy,' said the commander. 'I wouldn't want you to be late for the
theatre. But be assured that the Yard will remain in your debt, and my door
will always be open.'

Arnold bowed his head and tried to look
suitably humble.

The commander shook hands with Arnold and
thanked him once again, before Sergeant Roberts escorted him out of the room. 'And
may I add my personal thanks, Mr Pennyworthy,' Roberts said as they walked down
the corridor, 'becaus, bulsq Serg qbulsq Sere on the first of the month, I'm to
be promoted to Inspector.'

'Many congratulations,' said Arnold. 'Well deserved,
I feel sure.'

Arnold walked out of the building and made his
way down Whitehall. He held his head high as he strolled past Downing Street, wondering
how much he could tell his sister about the meeting that had just taken place.

He checked his watch and decided to hail
another taxi. After all, it was a special day.

'Where to, guv?' asked the taxi driver.

'The Palladium,' said Arnold as he climbed into
the back seat.

Arnold thought about his meeting with the commander
as the taxi made its slow progress into the West End. He played the
conversation over and over again in his mind as if he was pressing the repeat
button on a tape recorder. The cab came to a halt on Great Marlborough Street,
a police cordon preventing them from going any further.

'What's the problem?' Arnold asked the driver.

'There must be a member of the royal family or
some foreign head of state going to the show tonight. I'm afraid you'll have to
walk the last hundred yards.'

'Not a problem,' said Arnold, handing over a
ten-pound note and not waiting for any change.

He made his way past the large crowd of people
pressing against the safety barriers hoping to discover who was causing so much
interest. When he reached the theatre entrance, his ticket was carefully
checked before he was allowed to enter the foyer. He walked up the wide
red-carpeted steps and looked around for his sister. A few moments later he
spotted a programme being waved energetically. Janet was never late for anything.

Arnold gave his sister a kiss on both
cheeks, wished her a happy birthday and asked her if she'd like a glass of
champagne before the curtain went up.

'Certainly not,' said Janet. 'Let's go and
find our seats. A member of the royal family is expected in tonight, and I want
to see who it is.'

'Please take your seats,' said a voice over
the tannoy. 'The performance will begin in five minutes.'

'I've been looking forward to this for
weeks,' said Janet as an usher tore their tickets in half and said, 'Halfway
down on the lefthand side.'

'What wonderful seats, Arnold,' said Janet when
they reached row G.

'Well, you're not forty every day,' said Arnold,
giving her arm a squeeze.

'I wish,' she said as they made their way to
the centre of the row, trying not to tread on anyone's toes but causing several
people to have to stand.

'I thought we'd go to Cipriani afterwards,' said
Arnold once they'd settled down.

'Isn't that a bit extravagant?' said Janet.

'Not on my sister's birthday, it isn't. In
any case, it's turned out to be a rather special day for me as well.'

'And why's that?' asked Janet as she handed him
a programme. 'Not another promotion?'

'No, more important than that-' began Arnold
as people around him began to rise and start clapping as the Princess Royal entered
the royal box. She gave the audience a wave before taking her seat. Janet waved
back.

'She's always been one of my favourites,'

Janet said as the audience sat back down.

'But do tell me, Arnold, why it's such a
special day for you?'

'Well, it all began when he moved into our block...'

'Who are you talking about?' interrupted Janet
as the lights went down.

'I must confess, I had my doubts about him from
the start...' Arnold whispered as the conductor raised his baton. 'I'll tell
you all about it over dinner,' he added as the orchestra began to play a melody
most of the audience knew off by heart.

Arnold enjoyed the first half of the
musical, and when the curtain fell for the interval, it was clear from the
rapturous applause that he was not alone.

Several members of the audience rose and peered
up at the royal box, where Princess Anne was chatting to her husband. Suddenly the
door at the back of the box opened, and a man whose face Arnold could never
forget walked in, dressed in a scruffy dinner jacket, one hand in his pocket.

'Oh my God,' said Arnold, 'it's him!'

'It's who?' said Janet, her eyes not
straying from the royal box.

'The man I was telling you about,' said Arnold.
'He's a terrorist, and somehow he's managed to escape and get into the royal box.'
Arnold didn't wait to hear his sister's next question. He knew his duty, and
quickly squeezed past the people in his row, not caring whose toes he trod on
while ignoring a barrage of angry protests. When he reached the aisle he began
to run towards the exit, pushing aside anyone who got in his way.

Once he was in the foyer he quickly looked around
then charged up the sweeping staircase that led to the dress circle, while the majority
of theatregoers were making their way slowly down to the crush bar on the ground
floor. Several people stopped and stared at the ill-mannered man going so rudely
against the tide. Arnold ignored them, as well as several caustic comments
addressed directly at him. At the top of the stairs he set off in the direction
of the royal box, but when he came to a red rope barrier, two burly police
pasbur caus qasbur cau officers stepped forward and blocked his path.

'Can I help you, sir?' one of them asked politely.

'There's a dangerous terrorist in the royal box,'
shouted Arnold. 'The princess's life is in danger.'

'Please calm down, sir,' said the officer. 'The
only guest in the royal box this evening is Professor Naresh Khan, the distinguished
American orthopaedic surgeon who is over here to give a series of lectures on
the problems he encountered following 9/11.'

'Yes, that's him,' said Arnold. 'He may be posing
as a famous surgeon, but I assure you, he's an escaped terrorist.'

'Why don't you show this gentleman back to his
seat,' said the officer, turning to his colleague.

'And why don't you call Commander Harrison
at Scotland Yard,' said Arnold. 'He'll confirm my story. My name is Arnold Pennyworthy.'

The two officers looked at each other for a moment,
and then more closely at Arnold.

The senior officer dialled a number on his mobile
phone.

'Put me through to the Yard.' A few moments passed,
too long for Arnold, who was becoming more frantic by the second.

'I need to speak to Commander Harrison,
urgently,' the officer said.

After what seemed an eternity to Arnold, the
commander came on the line.

'Good evening, sir, my name is Bolton, Royal
Protection team, currently on duty at the London Palladium. A member of the
public... a Mr Pennyworthy -- is convinced there's a terrorist in the royal box,
and he says you'll confirm his story.' Arnold hoped they would still be in time
to save her life. 'I'll put him on, sir.' The officer handed the phone to Arnold,
who tried to remain calm.

'That man we discussed this afternoon,
Commander, he must have escaped, because I've just seen him in the royal box.'

'I can assure you, Mr Pennyworthy,' said the
commander calmly, 'that's not possible. The man we spoke about this afternoon
is locked up in a high-security prison from which he's unlikely to be released
in your lifetime.'

'But I've just seen him in the royal box!' shouted
Arnold desperately. 'You must tell your men to arrest him before it's too late.'

'I don't know whom you've just seen in the royal
box, sir,' said the commander, 'but I can assure you that it isn't Mr Zebari.'