‘I didn’t do anything. I just drive the boat.’
‘What did they tell you was going to happen to me and my friend?’
The captain swallowed but didn’t reply.
‘You knew they were going to kill us, right?’
‘I’m just the captain.’
‘And you knew there was a body down there?’
The captain nodded.
‘Well, that’s the body of a cop, mate. So maybe you should just keep quiet until you’ve got a lawyer.’
Chaudhry was walking down the Strand to King’s College when he first suspected that he was being followed. It wasn’t any of the signs that he’d been taught to watch out for, it was much more subtle than that. It was a feeling, a sense that he was being looked at that actually made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. It happened first as he walked out of Charing Cross tube station and the feeling was so strong that he turned and looked behind him, but he didn’t see anyone who was obviously tailing him.
Chaudhry usually cycled to college but it had been raining when he left the flat so he’d taken an umbrella and made the journey by tube instead. The rain had died down by the time he arrived at Charing Cross and it was barely spotting so he’d left his umbrella in his backpack and made do with pulling up the hood of his duffel coat.
He shivered again as he passed McDonald’s, then he remembered what he’d been taught about doubling back so he did a quick U-turn and headed back to the entrance. As he reached McDonald’s door he made eye contact with an Asian man in his twenties wearing a dark-blue Puffa jacket and brown cargo pants. The man’s eyes widened and his mouth opened a fraction but then he clamped it shut, looked away and thrust his hands into his pockets.
Chaudhry forced himself to show no reaction. He went inside, joined the queue and bought himself an Egg McMuffin and a coffee and sat down at a table by the window. He pushed down the hood of his duffel coat and pulled his tablet computer out of his backpack. As he took a sip of coffee and switched on the tablet the man in the blue Puffa jacket walked back on the other side of the road, talking into his mobile phone.
Chaudhry’s stomach was churning and he didn’t feel like eating but he forced himself to take a bite of his McMuffin, then chewed slowly as he pretended to read. The man in the blue Puffa jacket didn’t return. When he’d finished the coffee and the McMuffin he cleared his tray and headed out of the door. He stood on the pavement and looked around casually as he pulled up his hood again. The street was busy but there was no sign of the Asian man. He was starting to wonder if he’d imagined it. The hairs were no longer standing up on the back of his neck. Perhaps the guy had just been startled by eye contact with a stranger; maybe Chaudhry was being oversensitive.
He started walking towards the college, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. Part of him wanted to do another double-back but he knew that would be too obvious. He checked reflections in the shop windows but the angles were wrong and he couldn’t get a clear view directly behind him.
It wasn’t until he’d reached the entrance to King’s that he had the opportunity to glance to his right, but he could do it casually for only a second or two and there were simply too many people to register them all.
He walked inside, showing his student ID, and then took out his mobile phone. Standing with his back to the wall he pretended to make a call. Through the window he watched businessmen and shoppers walk to and fro, all of them moving purposefully, getting from A to B as quickly as possible. Jobs to get to, shopping to be done, appointments to be kept. Then he saw him. His hands still in his Puffa jacket, walking slowly and looking around as if trying to work out what went on inside the building. Chaudhry turned away and went up to the canteen, his heart pounding, the silent phone pressed tightly against his ear.
Shepherd had just returned from a run on the Heath when his John Whitehill BlackBerry rang. It was Chaudhry. ‘Yes, Raj, what’s up?’ he said, tossing his weighted rucksack on to a kitchen chair.
‘I think I’m being followed,’ said Chaudhry.
Shepherd was about to open the fridge door and grab himself a bottle of chilled water but he stopped, his hand outstretched. ‘Tell me what happened,’ he said.
Chaudhry explained what had happened in the Strand and at the college. ‘What should I do?’ he asked.
‘First, you need to take it easy,’ said Shepherd. He could hear the stress in the man’s voice, the clipped words and the ragged breathing. ‘You’re safe where you are, so even if there is a tail nothing can happen while you’re at King’s. What about Harvey?’
‘I don’t know. He’d already gone when I left the flat.’
‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Shepherd. ‘Have you got lectures all day?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘So what time would you normally leave?’
‘Five-ish. What are you going to do?’
Shepherd sat down and took off his boots. ‘I’m going to sort this out, Raj, don’t worry. Stay where you are and just carry on as normal. I’ll put together a team to watch over you when you go home tonight, then we’ll know for sure.’
‘But what if they. .’ He didn’t finish the sentence.
‘What, Raj? Spit it out.’
‘I don’t want to end up dead,’ said Chaudhry. ‘What if this is al-Qaeda? What if they know what I’m doing? Maybe it’s time to call it a day.’
‘Raj, you’re getting ahead of yourself. You need to relax. If there’s a tail that’s all it is, a tail. If they wanted to take you they’d have done it as you left the flat. Or lured you somewhere quiet. If you are being followed then you’re not in any danger.’
‘What do you mean “if”? Don’t you believe me?’
‘You’re under quite a lot of stress at the moment, Raj; you might be a bit oversensitive, that’s what I’m saying. But by this evening we’ll know for sure. Until then you need to carry on as usual.’
‘I’m shitting myself here,’ said Chaudhry.
‘I know you are, Raj. But there’s no point in counting chickens. I’m on the case so you’ll be followed every step of the way from college to your flat and if there’s any hint of a problem we’ll pull you out.’
‘You swear?’ asked Chaudhry.
‘Raj, mate, there’s no way I’ll put you in harm’s way. I promise. Now get on with being a student and keep your phone on. I’ll fill you in once I’ve got everything sorted. And don’t leave the campus, for any reason, until you hear from me.’
Shepherd ended the call. He dialled Malik’s number but it went straight through to voicemail. Shepherd didn’t leave a message. He shaved, showered and put on a blue polo shirt and black jeans, then tried Malik’s number again. It went through to voicemail again and this time Shepherd left a message asking him to call back.
Malik returned the call as Shepherd was in the back of a black cab heading towards Thames House.
‘Where are you, Harvey?’
‘University,’ said Malik. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Probably nothing,’ said Shepherd. ‘But Raj thinks someone might have been following him this morning.’
‘Oh fuck,’ said Malik.
‘It might be nothing — it’s easy to start jumping at shadows when you’re under pressure,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m going to get some of our people to follow Raj home and then we’ll know one way or another. What about you, Harvey? Did you notice anything today?’
‘No, but I wasn’t looking for it. What should I do?’
‘Can you stay where you are until later this evening?’
‘I was planning to hit the library anyway, so yes.’
‘How about you stick to that? Stay put until you hear from me this evening. If we find that Raj does have a tail we’ll put a counter-surveillance team on you as well.’
‘This is bad, isn’t it, John? We could be fucked.’