hunch from.’
Carter bowed his head. ‘OK, Mark,’ he gave in. ‘Last night, I think your suspect stole some personal belongings from a contact of mine.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. But one of those items was a mobile phone. It’s been traced to an address in Surrey.’
‘And why do you give a fuck that some bum off the street has nicked a mobile phone? Or is that the sort of thing the SFO are investigating these days?’
‘I’m sorry, Mark.’ Sean was beginning to lose patience now. ‘That’s as much as I can tell you. Are you going to do this or not?’
Taylor stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the suits crossing over London Bridge. ‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll send some people down there now. But it’s my arrest, and my suspect, do you understand?’
‘Just give me twenty minutes with her when you bring her in, Mark,’ Carter replied. ‘That’s all I’ll need. I promise.’
Carter walked down the street towards his car with misgivings firing through his mind. He didn’t like leaving things to Taylor, but there hadn’t been much choice in the matter: if he wanted the elusive Francesca Mills brought in, he was going to have to trust his former colleague. He had known not to bother asking if he could go along – this was too good an empire-building opportunity for Taylor for him to allow anyone else on the scene to take the credit. He was just going to have to sit tight and wait.
As his car pulled out into the traffic, he decided to check on Rosemary. She had been pretty shaken up last night, and with good reason. But she was tougher than her prissy exterior suggested, and he reckoned she’d recover pretty quickly. He was still in two minds as to whether to ask her to repeat her night-time tiptoeing round the corridors of the bank, but with any luck it wasn’t going to be necessary. By this evening he’d have the information he needed.
He punched Rosemary’s office number into his mobile. It was answered immediately by a sprightly sounding receptionist. ‘Lenham, Borwick and Hargreaves, good afternoon.’
‘Could you put me through to Rosemary Gibson, please?’
‘Who may I say is calling?’
‘It’s her brother.’
‘One moment, please.’
Carter whistled along tunelessly to the familiar holding music as he waited for Rosemary to come on the line. He was suddenly caught off guard when a man’s voice answered, a deep Eastern European voice that spoke slowly and precisely. ‘I understand you wish to speak to Miss Gibson.’
‘That’s right.’
‘May I ask who this is?’
‘As I told your receptionist, I’m her brother.’
‘I wasn’t aware that she had a brother.’
Carter began to feel uneasy. ‘No,’ he replied quickly, ‘I don’t suppose she discusses her family much at work.’ He cursed himself for sounding like a smart-arse.
‘Quite,’ the voice said impassively. ‘Quite.’
‘May I ask who I’m talking to?’
‘I’m afraid Miss Gibson called in sick this morning.’
‘Shit,’ Carter muttered silently to himself as he forced the car into an emergency stop to prevent himself from driving into the line of traffic in front of him. He coughed slightly to clear his voice. ‘I see. OK, well … I’ll try her at home.’ Carter wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible. ‘Thanks for your help.’ He hung up.
Something was wrong. He had specifically told Rosemary to go into work this morning, and she wouldn’t have ignored his instruction without checking with him first. Carter quickly did a U-turn and screamed north overthe river, before dialling Rosemary’s home number. He had to speak to her immediately.
Her phone rang four or five times, then the answering machine kicked in. ‘Hello, this is Rosemary.’ She spoke the message precisely and, it seemed to Carter, interminably slowly. ‘I am unable to take your call at the moment, but do please leave me a message after the tone.’
‘Rosemary!’ he said
Carter bowed his head. ‘OK, Mark,’ he gave in. ‘Last night, I think your suspect stole some personal belongings from a contact of mine.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. But one of those items was a mobile phone. It’s been traced to an address in Surrey.’
‘And why do you give a fuck that some bum off the street has nicked a mobile phone? Or is that the sort of thing the SFO are investigating these days?’
‘I’m sorry, Mark.’ Sean was beginning to lose patience now. ‘That’s as much as I can tell you. Are you going to do this or not?’
Taylor stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the suits crossing over London Bridge. ‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll send some people down there now. But it’s my arrest, and my suspect, do you understand?’
‘Just give me twenty minutes with her when you bring her in, Mark,’ Carter replied. ‘That’s all I’ll need. I promise.’
Carter walked down the street towards his car with misgivings firing through his mind. He didn’t like leaving things to Taylor, but there hadn’t been much choice in the matter: if he wanted the elusive Francesca Mills brought in, he was going to have to trust his former colleague. He had known not to bother asking if he could go along – this was too good an empire-building opportunity for Taylor for him to allow anyone else on the scene to take the credit. He was just going to have to sit tight and wait.
As his car pulled out into the traffic, he decided to check on Rosemary. She had been pretty shaken up last night, and with good reason. But she was tougher than her prissy exterior suggested, and he reckoned she’d recover pretty quickly. He was still in two minds as to whether to ask her to repeat her night-time tiptoeing round the corridors of the bank, but with any luck it wasn’t going to be necessary. By this evening he’d have the information he needed.
He punched Rosemary’s office number into his mobile. It was answered immediately by a sprightly sounding receptionist. ‘Lenham, Borwick and Hargreaves, good afternoon.’
‘Could you put me through to Rosemary Gibson, please?’
‘Who may I say is calling?’
‘It’s her brother.’
‘One moment, please.’
Carter whistled along tunelessly to the familiar holding music as he waited for Rosemary to come on the line. He was suddenly caught off guard when a man’s voice answered, a deep Eastern European voice that spoke slowly and precisely. ‘I understand you wish to speak to Miss Gibson.’
‘That’s right.’
‘May I ask who this is?’
‘As I told your receptionist, I’m her brother.’
‘I wasn’t aware that she had a brother.’
Carter began to feel uneasy. ‘No,’ he replied quickly, ‘I don’t suppose she discusses her family much at work.’ He cursed himself for sounding like a smart-arse.
‘Quite,’ the voice said impassively. ‘Quite.’
‘May I ask who I’m talking to?’
‘I’m afraid Miss Gibson called in sick this morning.’
‘Shit,’ Carter muttered silently to himself as he forced the car into an emergency stop to prevent himself from driving into the line of traffic in front of him. He coughed slightly to clear his voice. ‘I see. OK, well … I’ll try her at home.’ Carter wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible. ‘Thanks for your help.’ He hung up.
Something was wrong. He had specifically told Rosemary to go into work this morning, and she wouldn’t have ignored his instruction without checking with him first. Carter quickly did a U-turn and screamed north overthe river, before dialling Rosemary’s home number. He had to speak to her immediately.
Her phone rang four or five times, then the answering machine kicked in. ‘Hello, this is Rosemary.’ She spoke the message precisely and, it seemed to Carter, interminably slowly. ‘I am unable to take your call at the moment, but do please leave me a message after the tone.’
‘Rosemary!’ he said
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