The Last Enemy(17)

‘Hand it in to the desk,’ Bullen said brusquely. ‘They’ll issue you with a receipt for it.’ He gave Jake a searching look. ‘Anything else?’

Jake hesitated. He wanted to have a go at Bullen, tell him how incompetent he was being in refusing to listen to his concerns about Pierce Randall, ignoring the risks that Guy was facing. But then it struck him that maybe it wasn’t incompetence on Bullen’s part. Maybe the DI was being paid by Pierce Randall. It still puzzled Jake how he and Guy had been released so easily, especially when they were the prime suspects in a murder case.

‘Jake!’ said Lauren sharply, sensing Jake’s mood. ‘Just give them your passport.’

Jake hesitated again, then nodded.

‘OK,’ he said.



Once they were outside in the street, Lauren turned to Jake, annoyed.

‘What were you thinking of?’ she demanded. ‘You don’t want to give him any excuse to take you back in.’

‘Guy’s been snatched,’ said Jake. ‘I just wanted Bullen to at least say he’d investigate it.’

‘He did,’ said Lauren. ‘He contacted Pierce Randall, who told him everything was fine.’

‘And would you believe Pierce Randall?’ asked Jake.

‘No,’ admitted Lauren. ‘Not about anything. But he’s right about one thing, you don’t know who that text was from.’

‘Who else could it be?’ demanded Jake.

‘It could be from Gareth,’ said Lauren thoughtfully.

‘Gareth!’

‘I told you, his wife sounded very frightened when I spoke to her. She refused to talk to me. She hung up.’

‘So? I expect that’s what Gareth’s told her to do with any phone callers she doesn’t know.’

‘And we don’t know where he is,’ Lauren continued. ‘He never returned my calls.’

‘He’s possibly got caught up in some major spy business somewhere,’ said Jake. ‘Remember, that’s what he does. And if it had been Gareth who’d texted me, it would have shown his name. I’ve got his number in my phone.’

‘Good point,’ she admitted. ‘OK, so the text could be from Guy. So what are we going to do?’

Jake thought it over.

‘I’ll go and see Gareth tomorrow at the office. See if he can get to the bottom of this.’

‘And if Gareth’s not there? Say I was right about why his wife sounded frightened?’

Jake fell silent as what Lauren had said finally sunk in. What if she was right? Say something had happened to Gareth?





Chapter 8




The next morning Jake arrived at the offices of the Department of Science in Marsham Street, just a quick dash from the Houses of Parliament at Westminster. The building was a large modernistic glass tower, the glass in various shades of green, aimed at promoting an image of the department as at the forefront of twenty-first-century science, pushing the boundaries for the future. Inside, the main reception area and the first two floors continued that theme: modernistic in design, awash with flat screens and digital technology.

Once you got up to the third floor, however, and only people who worked in the building ever got that high, the interior decor changed. From here upwards it was all very old-fashioned with images of science from the past, along with pictures from Victorian times. Jake had often reflected that the people who ran the department, the decision makers on the top floors, preferred to look backwards to the glories of the past.

Jake’s office, the large open-plan press office, was on the first floor of the building, but right now he had something more important on his mind than work, and that was seeing Gareth Findlay-Weston, his boss.

Jake took the lift up to the third floor and made his way along the narrow corridor, hung with oil paintings of hunting scenes. He reached Gareth’s office, knocked, and went in.

Gareth’s secretary, Janet, was in her usual place, on guard at her desk in the outer office, Gareth’s protector and gatekeeper. She was talking quietly and seriously on the phone, but as Jake came in she said, ‘I’ll talk to you later,’ and hung up.

‘Hi,’ said Jake. ‘Is Gareth in? I need to see him urgently.’

Janet seemed to hesitate a second, then she said, ‘He’s not in.’

‘Do you know when he will be in?’

Again, Janet appeared to hesitate. Then she said, ‘No.’

Jake looked at her, puzzled.

‘Is he meant to be in?’ he asked. ‘I mean, he’s not on holiday, or something?’

‘No,’ said Janet. And, although she was doing her best to stay the perfect calm and efficient secretary that she always was, Jake was sure there was something not right. She looked nervous. No, not nervous; upset.