River said, ‘My office is bigger than yours.’
‘Real estate’s cheaper that end of town.’
‘I thought the action took place upstairs. On the hub.’
‘I’m there a lot. Lady Di—’
‘She lets you call her that?’
‘You’re a laugh a minute, River. Lady Di—Taverner, she keeps me busy.’
River waggled an eyebrow.
‘I don’t know why I’m even bothering.’
River said, ‘You ever going to admit you made a mistake?’
Webb laughed. ‘You still on that?’
‘He was wearing a white tee under a blue shirt. That’s what you told me. Except he wasn’t, was he? He was wearing a blue tee under a—’
‘The guy was wearing what I said he was wearing, River. I mean, what, I get the colours the wrong way round and there just
‘And the tape not working. Don’t forget the tape not working. What are the odds on that?’
‘EFU, River. Happens all the time.’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘Equipment fuck-up. You think they dish out state-of-the-art gear for assessment ops? We’re up against budgetary constraints, River. You don’t want to get Taverner started on that—oh, but hang on, you won’t, will you? On account of you’re in Slough House, and the closest you’ll get to the inner circle is reading someone’s memoirs.’
‘There isn’t an acronym for that? RSM?’
‘You know something, River? You need to grow up.’
‘And you need to admit that the mistake was yours.’
‘Mistake?’ Webb showed his teeth. ‘I prefer to call it a fiasco.’
‘If I was you, and smirked like that, I’d have someone watching my back.’
‘Oh, I play London rules. I don’t need anyone watching my back but me.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’
‘Time to go.’
‘Should I shout for a guide? Or have you pressed a secret button?’
But Webb was shaking his head: not in response, but in reaction to River’s presence, which had tired him, because he had important things to get on with.
And nothing River said would get Webb to admit it was him who’d screwed up, not River. Besides, what difference would it make? It had been River on that platform, a star on CCTV. When you got to boardroom level, playing fair wasn’t even a bullet point. Who’d screwed up didn’t matter; who’d been visible during the screw-up did. Webb could put his hands up right now, and Diana Taverner wouldn’t care.
River stood, hoping an exit line would occur before he got to the door. Something to make him feel less like he’d been dismissed: by Spider bloody Webb.
Who said, ‘Didn’t Lamb have a flash-box?’
‘A what?’
‘A flash-box, River.’ He tapped the padded envelope. ‘The kind you can’t open without a key. Unless you want a magnesium flash.’
‘I’ve heard of those. But at Slough House, frankly, I’m amazed we’ve got jiffy bags.’
River’s need for an exit line evaporated. Scorched hand wrapped tightly round the memory stick in his pocket, he left.
When lovely woman stoops to folly, all bets are off. Was that how it went? Didn’t matter. When lovely woman stoops to folly, something’s got to give.
Such thoughts were pitilessly regular; as familiar as the sound of her footsteps clickety-clacking up the stairs of her apartment block. Lovely woman stoops to folly. This evening’s earworm, picked up from an ad on the tube.
When lovely woman stoops to folly, the shit has hit the fan.
Catherine Standish, forty-eight a memory, knew all bets were off. Last thing she needed was her subconscious reminding her.
And she had been lovely once. Many had said so. One man in particular:
But there was nobody to tell her she was lovely any more, and it was doubtful they’d say so if there were. The scary moments had won. Which sounded like a definition of ageing, to Catherine. The scary moments had won.
At the door to her flat she put her shopping on the floor and hunted out her key. Found it. Entered. The hall light was on, because it was on a timer. Catherine didn’t like stepping into the dark, not even for the second it would take to flip a switch. In the kitchen, she unpacked the shopping; coffee in a cupboard, salad in the fridge. Then she took the toothpaste into the bathroom, where the light was on the same timer. There was a reason for that too.
Her worst scary moment had been the morning she’d turned up at her boss’s flat to find him dead in his bathroom. He’d used a gun. Sat in the tub to do it, as if he didn’t want to make a mess.
