you been back?’
‘Been back? Why would I go back?’
‘There’s quite a tourist industry now.’
‘I think I’ll give it a miss,’ said Shepherd.
‘Beautiful beaches,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘By the way, we never talked about the diamonds you took back from the mercenaries.’
‘Didn’t we?’
Willoughby-Brown took out a small cigar and studied it as if it was the first time he’d seen it. ‘You remember Laurence Beltran, the lovely French lady at Medicaid International?’
‘Sure. She was an angel.’
‘She seemed to have come into quite a lot of additional funds, not long after you came back with the diamonds.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘And once, over a drink, she referred to you as her white knight. Said you’d ridden to her rescue just when she needed rescuing.’
‘That was nice of her.’
‘You’ve never kept in touch?’
‘We were shunted out at short notice, so I never really got the chance to say goodbye.’
‘Well, it was all very strange. Before you came on the scene she was forever complaining about being short of funds, but after that mercenary business, well …’ He shrugged and looked up from his cigar. ‘Let’s just say that funding didn’t seem to be a problem. And she became quite pally with that Lebanese diamond merchant. What was his name again?’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘I forget.’
Willoughby-Brown jabbed the unlit cigar at him. ‘Now we both know that’s not true,’ he said. ‘You’ve got one of those eidetic memories. You never forget anything.’
Shepherd frowned. ‘It was a long time ago, Jeremy.’
‘Farid, his name was. Big Lebanese guy. Always sweating.’
Shepherd nodded. ‘I remember.’
‘Of course you do. Well, he got very close to Laurence. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?’
‘Not really,’ said Shepherd.
‘I mean, God forbid you might have put a few of those blood diamonds her way.’
‘What did happen to those diamonds?’ asked Shepherd.
Willoughby-Brown tapped the side of his nose again. ‘Need to know,’ he said. His face broke into a grin. ‘Anyway, enough of this chit-chat. Do you mind if we go outside? I really do feel like a smoke and it’s going to take some time to explain what’s happened.’ Willoughby-Brown led Shepherd out of his office, along a corridor, into another room and through a set of French windows on to a small terrace overlooking the Thames. ‘Strictly speaking I can’t even smoke here.’
‘Place of work,’ said Shepherd.
‘Exactly,’ said Willoughby-Brown, lighting his cigar. He blew smoke over the river. ‘Can’t smoke, can’t drink, can’t have fun with the ladies. Who would’ve thought the world would have ended up like this? PC madness, that’s what it is.’ He took another long drag on his cigar and then exhaled slowly. ‘You did one hell of a job with young Manraj,’ he said.
‘Not that great a job, obviously. What the hell has happened?’
‘In a nutshell, young Manraj has been captured by a group of Islamic extremists in Pakistan.’
‘What the fuck was he doing in Pakistan?’
‘Working for us, obviously. Infiltrating a group of British-born Muslims who were being trained over there.’
‘How did that become an MI6 operation?’
‘We had a number of al-Qaeda operatives under surveillance in Pakistan. There was communications traffic between them and several imams in the UK.’
‘So why didn’t you pass that intel on to Five?’
Willoughby-Brown looked at him, frowning. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Raj should never have been sent to Pakistan. He was almost certainly exposed during the operation we ran.’
‘His friend was attacked. There’s no evidence that Raj had been compromised.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Shepherd. ‘Raj and Harvey were peas in a pod. They were recruited together and they were trained together and they were both taken to see Bin Laden. If Harvey was blown then so was Raj.’
‘We
‘Been back? Why would I go back?’
‘There’s quite a tourist industry now.’
‘I think I’ll give it a miss,’ said Shepherd.
‘Beautiful beaches,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘By the way, we never talked about the diamonds you took back from the mercenaries.’
‘Didn’t we?’
Willoughby-Brown took out a small cigar and studied it as if it was the first time he’d seen it. ‘You remember Laurence Beltran, the lovely French lady at Medicaid International?’
‘Sure. She was an angel.’
‘She seemed to have come into quite a lot of additional funds, not long after you came back with the diamonds.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘And once, over a drink, she referred to you as her white knight. Said you’d ridden to her rescue just when she needed rescuing.’
‘That was nice of her.’
‘You’ve never kept in touch?’
‘We were shunted out at short notice, so I never really got the chance to say goodbye.’
‘Well, it was all very strange. Before you came on the scene she was forever complaining about being short of funds, but after that mercenary business, well …’ He shrugged and looked up from his cigar. ‘Let’s just say that funding didn’t seem to be a problem. And she became quite pally with that Lebanese diamond merchant. What was his name again?’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘I forget.’
Willoughby-Brown jabbed the unlit cigar at him. ‘Now we both know that’s not true,’ he said. ‘You’ve got one of those eidetic memories. You never forget anything.’
Shepherd frowned. ‘It was a long time ago, Jeremy.’
‘Farid, his name was. Big Lebanese guy. Always sweating.’
Shepherd nodded. ‘I remember.’
‘Of course you do. Well, he got very close to Laurence. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?’
‘Not really,’ said Shepherd.
‘I mean, God forbid you might have put a few of those blood diamonds her way.’
‘What did happen to those diamonds?’ asked Shepherd.
Willoughby-Brown tapped the side of his nose again. ‘Need to know,’ he said. His face broke into a grin. ‘Anyway, enough of this chit-chat. Do you mind if we go outside? I really do feel like a smoke and it’s going to take some time to explain what’s happened.’ Willoughby-Brown led Shepherd out of his office, along a corridor, into another room and through a set of French windows on to a small terrace overlooking the Thames. ‘Strictly speaking I can’t even smoke here.’
‘Place of work,’ said Shepherd.
‘Exactly,’ said Willoughby-Brown, lighting his cigar. He blew smoke over the river. ‘Can’t smoke, can’t drink, can’t have fun with the ladies. Who would’ve thought the world would have ended up like this? PC madness, that’s what it is.’ He took another long drag on his cigar and then exhaled slowly. ‘You did one hell of a job with young Manraj,’ he said.
‘Not that great a job, obviously. What the hell has happened?’
‘In a nutshell, young Manraj has been captured by a group of Islamic extremists in Pakistan.’
‘What the fuck was he doing in Pakistan?’
‘Working for us, obviously. Infiltrating a group of British-born Muslims who were being trained over there.’
‘How did that become an MI6 operation?’
‘We had a number of al-Qaeda operatives under surveillance in Pakistan. There was communications traffic between them and several imams in the UK.’
‘So why didn’t you pass that intel on to Five?’
Willoughby-Brown looked at him, frowning. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Raj should never have been sent to Pakistan. He was almost certainly exposed during the operation we ran.’
‘His friend was attacked. There’s no evidence that Raj had been compromised.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Shepherd. ‘Raj and Harvey were peas in a pod. They were recruited together and they were trained together and they were both taken to see Bin Laden. If Harvey was blown then so was Raj.’
‘We
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