you’ve got the habit.’
Adrian spun his cigarette packet round one more time, then put it in his pocket. ‘Maybe you should ask CEO Dep – Nigel Measures – if he has any idea about why Gladiator went
back. I think he went to see him.’
Katharine put her hand to her head. ‘Of course, yes. I was completely forgetting. We got this call from CEO Dep last thing on the Friday before Gladiator went. He wanted his number and
address from the file, which we held then. He said he used to know him but hadn’t seen him for ages and thought it might be a good time to get in touch. Did he know him? There’s nothing
on file about it.’
‘He met him socially, years ago.’ Charles tried not to show too much interest. ‘Did he go to see him?’
They looked at each other. ‘Presumably not,’ said Adrian. ‘At least, if he did, there’s nothing on file about it. Maybe he didn’t ring until it was too
late.’
Charles nodded again. ‘Maybe.’
The interview continued until the police really had run out of questions. Charles solemnly agreed that they might never know why Gladiator went back, unless he returned to tell
them. Corduroy declared the interview over and switched off the machine.
Sarah said: ‘I take it Mr Thoroughgood is to be bailed?’
‘Police bail. Soon as we fill in the forms.’
She stood and handed Charles her card. ‘I’ll go back to my office. Ring me when you’re home.’
Freckles showed her out and a uniformed policeman escorted Charles to his cell. Again, he failed to get beyond the first page of Jane Eyre , distracted this time by worry about what people
would think of him, particularly Katharine and Adrian. They were so young, so enthusiastic, and he felt that, merely by being arrested, he had somehow let them down. They would surely think it
possible he was guilty, even if they wanted to believe him innocent. And they had no reason to believe him innocent.
Jeremy Wheeler, of course, would assume he was guilty, with relish. Charles imagined him shaking his head and lowering his voice over lunch, saying that between you and me, within these four
walls, on a strictly need-to-know basis, not for onward transmission, it had come as no surprise to anyone who knew Charles well. There’d always been question marks and, frankly, he
wouldn’t be surprised if there were more to come. Not outright treachery, of course – Charles probably wasn’t up to that – just a series of grubby, small-change
indiscretions. It wasn’t even certain that money had changed hands – at least there was no evidence as yet – but it was yet another example of an Old Office old stager who
couldn’t accept modernisation, didn’t know how to cope with the modern world. All very sad.
It was dark by the time the release and bail formalities were complete. They returned his possessions, minus mobile, diary, SIA pass and address book, and offered to drive him back to his flat,
since it was coming on to rain. Conversation during the short journey was freer than in the morning.
‘It’ll be a while before you get your computers and phone,’ said Corduroy. ‘There’s a backlog in the section that goes through them. All these terrorist cases.
That’s why your bail date is set for six months.’
Charles nodded. His own case didn’t concern him any more. They were beyond that. He needed to do a little fishing of his own. ‘Trouble is, it doesn’t take you any farther
forward on the James Wytham leaks.’
‘No, that’s the big thing, of course. Your case was referred to us as part of that, you see, which was why we had to investigate.’
‘I suppose the SIA lawyers felt obliged to bring you in.’
‘Came from higher than that.’
Charles feigned surprise. ‘Not CEO level, surely?’
Freckles glanced at Corduroy, who nodded. ‘Almost,’ he said. ‘Mr Measures himself, no less. Quite a coincidence, your lawyer being his wife. Could that be a problem for
him?’
‘Not
Adrian spun his cigarette packet round one more time, then put it in his pocket. ‘Maybe you should ask CEO Dep – Nigel Measures – if he has any idea about why Gladiator went
back. I think he went to see him.’
Katharine put her hand to her head. ‘Of course, yes. I was completely forgetting. We got this call from CEO Dep last thing on the Friday before Gladiator went. He wanted his number and
address from the file, which we held then. He said he used to know him but hadn’t seen him for ages and thought it might be a good time to get in touch. Did he know him? There’s nothing
on file about it.’
‘He met him socially, years ago.’ Charles tried not to show too much interest. ‘Did he go to see him?’
They looked at each other. ‘Presumably not,’ said Adrian. ‘At least, if he did, there’s nothing on file about it. Maybe he didn’t ring until it was too
late.’
Charles nodded again. ‘Maybe.’
The interview continued until the police really had run out of questions. Charles solemnly agreed that they might never know why Gladiator went back, unless he returned to tell
them. Corduroy declared the interview over and switched off the machine.
Sarah said: ‘I take it Mr Thoroughgood is to be bailed?’
‘Police bail. Soon as we fill in the forms.’
She stood and handed Charles her card. ‘I’ll go back to my office. Ring me when you’re home.’
Freckles showed her out and a uniformed policeman escorted Charles to his cell. Again, he failed to get beyond the first page of Jane Eyre , distracted this time by worry about what people
would think of him, particularly Katharine and Adrian. They were so young, so enthusiastic, and he felt that, merely by being arrested, he had somehow let them down. They would surely think it
possible he was guilty, even if they wanted to believe him innocent. And they had no reason to believe him innocent.
Jeremy Wheeler, of course, would assume he was guilty, with relish. Charles imagined him shaking his head and lowering his voice over lunch, saying that between you and me, within these four
walls, on a strictly need-to-know basis, not for onward transmission, it had come as no surprise to anyone who knew Charles well. There’d always been question marks and, frankly, he
wouldn’t be surprised if there were more to come. Not outright treachery, of course – Charles probably wasn’t up to that – just a series of grubby, small-change
indiscretions. It wasn’t even certain that money had changed hands – at least there was no evidence as yet – but it was yet another example of an Old Office old stager who
couldn’t accept modernisation, didn’t know how to cope with the modern world. All very sad.
It was dark by the time the release and bail formalities were complete. They returned his possessions, minus mobile, diary, SIA pass and address book, and offered to drive him back to his flat,
since it was coming on to rain. Conversation during the short journey was freer than in the morning.
‘It’ll be a while before you get your computers and phone,’ said Corduroy. ‘There’s a backlog in the section that goes through them. All these terrorist cases.
That’s why your bail date is set for six months.’
Charles nodded. His own case didn’t concern him any more. They were beyond that. He needed to do a little fishing of his own. ‘Trouble is, it doesn’t take you any farther
forward on the James Wytham leaks.’
‘No, that’s the big thing, of course. Your case was referred to us as part of that, you see, which was why we had to investigate.’
‘I suppose the SIA lawyers felt obliged to bring you in.’
‘Came from higher than that.’
Charles feigned surprise. ‘Not CEO level, surely?’
Freckles glanced at Corduroy, who nodded. ‘Almost,’ he said. ‘Mr Measures himself, no less. Quite a coincidence, your lawyer being his wife. Could that be a problem for
him?’
‘Not
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