‘Is Boatman safe there?’
‘Fontana’s had him moved to a private room on the pretext that he needs quiet, and he’s put a Special Branch officer in plain clothes, who’s pretending to be a relative, inside with him. I don’t think we’ve any worries on that score. It’s when he gets out that I’ll be concerned.’
‘Me too.’ Liz was fully awake now. ‘Listen, I’m going to drive up. I’ll come straight to the hospital. Can you meet me there in two hours or so?’
‘That’s where I am now. I’ll wait here unless something else crops up.’
‘What about his wife? We can’t leave her out there. She may not be safe.’
‘Fontana’s gone to pick her up. He’s told her to pack a few things in a suitcase but he’s leaving the detailed explanations to us. He’s told her not to tell anyone else what’s happened for the time being.’
‘Good. Let’s hope that holds the situation for now. Any media interest?’
‘Not so far. The hospital press office has been told to play it low-key – just a straightforward accident.’
‘OK, Dave. Thanks. I’ll talk to Mrs Boatman when I get there but it looks like a full-scale exfiltration job. I’ll get Peggy to alert the team to expect a hospital case and a shell-shocked wife. That’ll give them something to think about!’
The ward was in a small two-storey wing, tucked away behind the enormous main block of the hospital. From reception Liz could see Dave standing by the nurse’s station, and he came down the corridor to greet her, saying, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
‘What’s happening?’
‘Well, Boatman’s parents have been and gone. They’ve just been told that he had an accident. They thought I was a plain-clothes policeman waiting to take a statement, in case the van driver who almost ran him over was going to be charged with dangerous driving. His wife’s with him now; Fontana brought her here. She’s very upset, but seems a sensible sort of girl and she’s not panicking. Fontana told her there was a security issue, to explain why we’re looking after her husband, and that someone was coming up from London to explain things further. That’s you.’
‘OK. I’ll talk to her in a moment. What else?’
‘His brother wanted to see him.’
There was something odd in Dave’s tone. Liz stared at him. ‘So?’
‘The problem with that is he doesn’t have a brother.’
‘Christ. Who was he?’
‘Don’t know. One of the nurses thought the guy was acting oddly. When she asked him a few questions, he got spooked. By the time she called me he’d run off. Sorry, Liz.’
She waved Dave’s apology aside. ‘It just means we’re going to have to move a little sooner than I thought. I’d better see his wife now. Can you round up whoever’s in charge of the ward while I do? I’ll see them after her.’
What a stunning woman, thought Liz, as Boatman’s wife joined her in the ward’s small interview room. Jamila was tall, with fine regular features and big eyes, sad and tear-stained at present. Her raven hair was long and straight, held back by a large comb. Liz was surprised to see she was wearing white jeans and a silk shirt, which came down over her hips. She wasn’t at all the demure, traditional spouse Liz had been expecting.
Liz introduced herself as Jane Forrester from the Security Service and they sat down side by side on a hard sofa.
‘The doctors say your husband will be fine. They expect him to make a complete recovery.’
Jamila nodded and Liz said tentatively, ‘I need to talk to you about what happens next.’
The younger woman’s eyes widened involuntarily as Liz continued, ‘The policeman who brought you here explained there was a security issue, didn’t he?’
Jamila nodded, almost mechanically, and it was clear that she was in shock still, hardly able to take in the revelations of the last few hours. ‘He said Salim had been helping the… authorities.’ She looked uncertainly at Liz, then her face creased into the hint of a smile. ‘Is that you?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Liz said simply. ‘Your husband has been helping us to find out what some very dangerous people may be doing.’
‘He didn’t fall off that bus, did he?’
‘I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think so. We think there are people who want to harm him. It’s possible that they caused his accident tonight.’
‘Can you protect him now?’ There was the first note of fear in Jamila’s voice.
‘Yes.’ Liz was emphatic. ‘But only if we get him out of here. If he stays in Birmingham, there’s every chance these people will try again.’
‘You mean, he has to go away? But what about me? Can I go with him?’
‘Yes. Of course you can.’ They could also stay put, for the couple might simply refuse to relocate, but that would be a fatal decision in Liz’s view. It was much better for Jamila to think there was no choice.
‘When do we have to go?’
‘Straight away.’
‘You mean, now?’ she asked in disbelief.
‘Yes. You’ve brought a bag?’
‘The man said to bring the things that mattered most – my jewellery, family photographs, that sort of thing. But I haven’t brought much else,’ she added plaintively.
