She tried to come up with something else to say, anything that might put a brake on what she feared would turn out a runaway train, but he was gone already, so she stood a while longer, weighing her tote bag in her hand. Taverner would be expecting her to report back, but that was an irrelevance. She’d delivered a burner phone: Taverner would be hearing from CC himself before long. Sid was a surplus detail. It would have been handy to have had this insight earlier that morning, but she could berate herself at her leisure. She was also going to have to find a phone and summon up some numbers, but before she brought any more grief down on herself, she might as well have a cup of coffee.
The others were in the car, like a family gathering gone wrong; Avril and Daisy now with the back to themselves, Al up front, scanning the surrounding vehicles for threat. CC didn’t doubt he actually had a gun—
Raising a finger in his friends’ direction—one minute—he retrieved the burner from his pocket, found its contacts and selected the single number listed. It rang twice before he heard four high-pitched beeps and the call ended. When he attempted a redial, the number had vanished from the list, and didn’t appear on the numbers dialled screen either. Spook tech. He allowed himself a moment’s frustration then dropped the phone back in his pocket. Immediately, it rang.
Diana Taverner said, “So you’d be the chancer who thought blackmailing the Service was a smart idea.”
“Not one of my better days.”
“No, those are behind you. Charles Stamoran, formerly of the Brains Trust. Was that a name you gave yourselves, by the way? It smacks of those lumbering giants you meet called ‘Tiny.’”
This didn’t need answering. “Thanks for the money. I’ll admit I had a larger sum in mind, but that was when I thought I was anonymous. You won’t be hearing from me again.”
That got a laugh, if not one CC hoped to hear again. “Where are you? Still in Oxford?”
If in doubt, lie. “Yes.”
“And Baker?”
Phoneless, thought CC. So won’t have reported back yet. “Gone for her train.”
“You’re alone?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You can find Calthorpe Street?”
“. . . In London?”
“Obviously.” She gave him a street number. “Five p.m. Don’t be late.”
And then he was listening to dead air. When he checked the calls received folder, nothing was listed.
Putting the phone away he returned to the car, where he found, you might call it, an atmosphere.
“All done?” Avril asked. “Or are more mysterious phone calls required? You need us to carry on sitting here like children?”
“I liked Sid,” said Daisy. “Are we leaving her here?”
“We’re all done. There’ll be no more calls. And yes, we’re leaving her here.” He was standing by the car, his door open. Al was in the passenger seat, his bag between his feet. “Here, I’ll put that in the boot.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get thrombosis or something. Do you girls need anything putting away?”
“Call us that again, and you’ll find out.”
CC took Al’s bag from his reluctant grasp and went round the back.
Avril said, “Do you think he’s okay?”
Daisy said, “He’s CC. He’ll always be okay.”
Al turned to face them. “He trod on a nest of snakes when he tried to lean on First Desk. Do you really think sending a messenger with an envelope is the worst she’ll do in response?”
Then CC was climbing back into the car, handing out wads of banknotes.
“What’s this?”
“Three hundred quid.” Each, he meant. “Your share. I’m sorry it’s not more.”
“What’s going on, CC?”
“That envelope. There was twelve hundred quid and a phone. I’ve just spoken to First Desk. More sorrowful than angry, it turns out. No, blackmailing the Park is not a good idea. But yes, we have a point. Badly treated, wouldn’t happen now, all that kind of thing. She can’t give us more than petty cash, but on the other hand, we’ll not be facing a firing squad. Provided our mouths remain forever shut.”
There was silence for a short while. Then Avril said, “And that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Not even a visit from the Dogs?”
“She’s already put the fear of God into us,” said CC. “Or me. It was a stupid thing to do, it put us all at risk. I’m sorry. I should have thought harder. Talked to you all first.”
“Yes. You should have done.”
Al said, “But we get three hundred quid each.”
“Like I said. I’m sorry it’s not more.”
“So you’ll have another three hundred in your pocket right now?”
“Al . . .”
“I’m not suggesting he’s skimming. I’m wondering if he kept any for himself.”
CC said, “We’d better get moving. I’ll drop you at King’s Cross. That’s good for everyone, yes?”
Grunts were the best he was getting for that.
