Blind pursuit, p.18
Blind Pursuit, page 18
Was the quiet surprising to her?
Not exactly. But it did tell a story. It told her that Yousefi, for whatever reason, had wanted to keep the matter out of the public eye, and that the police were willing – and able – to go along with that.
Lea hoped that fact itself pointed to a nefarious influence from Yousefi, although she had no evidence of it. Not much evidence of anything, really, despite having spent as much of her spare time as she could over the last few months trawling through everything they’d taken from Yousefi’s safe, and cross-matching anything even remotely intriguing across files and databases she had access to.
So far that work had yielded zero answers, zero clear evidence of dodgy deeds by Yousefi, although there remained plenty of threads which she’d like to continue to pull if given the chance.
The issue was, to get that chance, she really needed to be doing things out in the open. From an MI6 standpoint, at least.
And so, frustratingly, and more than a little apprehensively, she’d decided – with Denis’s encouragement – that it was time to come clean to Goldman.
The plan was to gloss over the break-in as much as possible, and present the little that they’d found with as much vigour as possible, and hope that their boss would be intrigued enough – and not disappointed or angry enough – to give them the green light to carry on, and perhaps even with some additional help.
Denis was waiting for her outside the top-floor meeting room.
‘You look… hassled,’ he said, and without his usual smile of greeting which really didn’t fill her with much confidence. Had he already decided this was a doomed proposal?
‘Just not sure this is going to go how we want it to,’ she said.
She stopped by him and took a moment to compose her thoughts. He put his hand to her shoulder – unexpected, but she didn’t brush him off.
‘You’ve got this,’ he said.
‘Is Goldman in there already?’ Lea asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Then let’s get this done.’
‘Are you totally fucking insane?’ Goldman bellowed, rising from her chair, face contorting, cheeks burning red. All that was missing were fireballs coming from her mouth and laser beams from her eyes.
If she could have, she would have.
‘Erica, I’m sorry,’ Lea said. ‘But it’s not about what we did, but why we did it and what we found—’
‘Of course it’s about what you did! You damn idiots.’
She slumped back down in her chair, anger dissipating for despair.
‘But… think about it,’ Lea said. ‘You didn’t know about this, right? That Omar Yousefi, a sitting MP, had his home broken into?’
Only a quizzical look from Goldman in return.
‘Why do you think that is?’ Lea asked. ‘The police were called there that night. They chased us across central London. Six months ago! And you haven’t heard a single thing about this?’
‘That is your big take away from all of this?’ Goldman said dejectedly.
The room went silent for a few moments. Lea fought in her mind for what else she could say to bring her boss around, make her see things as Lea saw them.
She failed.
‘Can you two be identified by the police?’ Goldman asked.
‘I doubt it,’ Lea said. ‘We were careful.’
‘We’re not amateurs,’ Denis added.
Goldman shot him her death glare. ‘You really don’t believe so?’
‘We were careful,’ Lea said again. ‘And you’ve heard nothing about this, and I’ve certainly not had a knock on the door yet, so—’
‘I could have you both terminated right here, right now,’ Goldman butted in. ‘In fact, I’m struggling to find a good reason not to.’
‘Because you know we did this with the best intentions,’ Lea said.
‘It’s not about intentions!’ Goldman shouted back. ‘It’s about laws, rules. Reputations. My reputation.’
‘Our actions are on us, not you,’ Denis said. ‘We made the decision together. Whatever happens from here, it’ll never come back to hurt you.’
Goldman shot him another glare. ‘It doesn’t work like that, Romeo. I’m guessing this was her idea and you just followed blindly?’
‘No,’ he said, stern. ‘I did this because it was the right thing to do. You know yourself from our files on Hadjam and the Iranians that Yousefi does, most likely, know something. And if we’re not the ones to find out what that is, then who?’
‘Know something? What does that even mean? You have no evidence of his involvement with any person of interest. If it wasn’t because of who his wife is he’d be nowhere near your thoughts.’
‘That’s a pretty big because, if you ask me,’ Lea said.
‘I did not ask you. And this is not how your jobs work. You do not get to decide on what missions to undertake and where without my authority.’
‘We’re sorry for that,’ Lea said. ‘There’s no excuse. We should have briefed you first. But we’re here now, telling you everything. We’re not trying to hide—’
‘I expected better from you,’ Goldman said to her. ‘I really did.’
The words stung and for a few moments Lea was flummoxed. She looked over at Denis as if for backup and he nodded to her. Telling her to carry on?
‘The thing is, we have found something…’ Lea rummaged in her satchel.
Although as she did so the word ‘we’ stuck in her head. Because it wasn’t just her and Denis who had found this evidence. Lea had recently drafted in the services of Harpreet, a data analyst who worked for MI5, to help sift through the reams of data, and to take the deep dive further. Harpreet was probably the best analyst Lea had ever met, which meant her work was in high demand. So high, in fact, that unless she actually liked you, any request for her services would be pushed to the bottom of a never-ending backlog of work.
Just as well that Harpreet owed Lea a few favours, plus they genuinely got along.
But Lea certainly wouldn’t be mentioning the cross-agency assistance, given Goldman’s mood.
‘Please,’ Goldman said. ‘I don’t even want to know what you’ve got. The best thing for you to do is destroy everything you took from that house.’
‘But we can’t destroy our knowledge,’ Lea said, undeterred now as she pulled out the papers and put them on the desk in front of her.
Goldman continued to glower but at least didn’t have another comeback. Yet.
‘Please,’ Lea said. ‘Just… let me explain what we found.’
Goldman thought about it then sighed. ‘I’ll give you thirty seconds. If you haven’t convinced me in that time, you’ll burn those papers, and I never want to hear about this matter ever again.’
Lea gulped. Thirty seconds? She was already set up to fail.
‘We’ve identified several unknown parties who Yousefi has either received money from or sent money too. Often round-sum amounts ranging from five thousand pounds to half a million—’
‘Unknown parties?’ Goldman interjected. ‘You’re going to have to do better than this.’
‘They’re unknown because there are so many layers to unpick. Offshore LLCs that we haven’t been able to get behind, individuals with what look to be obviously coded identities. We have text messages on a burner phone, talking about Ithaca that appears to link up with at least two of the payments to Yousefi that—’
‘Time’s up,’ Goldman said.
Lea’s shoulders fell.
‘If I could just—’
‘No,’ Goldman said. ‘You can’t. I only have one question for you, and I need a clear answer.’
‘Yes?’
‘Have you found any evidence that Yousefi is personally involved with any criminal activity, or has involvement with any of the parties from the Iran investigation, other than because of who he’s married to?’
‘No. Nothing direct, but these parties, the transactions, the mention of Ithaca—’
Goldman held her hand up to stop Lea.
‘Just so we’re clear, you said no. You have zero evidence to link Yousefi to activities relevant to MI6 investigations, current or past?’
‘We have no direct, clear evidence, but—’
‘Then destroy everything you took, and I mean that. I’ll forget about the indiscretion, for the sole reason that I understand the personal toll past events have taken on you both. But this is the end of it—’
‘And what if we do find evidence that links to Yousefi to the Iranians and to—?’
‘Then come back to me and show me. But you won’t find that evidence by targeting Yousefi directly, in this country, without my say-so. And you do understand the Iranian investigation remains sidelined?’
Goldman stared at her, waiting for a response, but Lea didn’t answer.
‘We understand,’ Denis said. ‘Sorry for putting you in this position.’
Goldman turned her wrath on him. ‘Tell me, Denis, if you weren’t so eager to impress her all the time… would you ever have done something as stupid as this?’
He didn’t answer. Lea said nothing either, even if the comment was obviously designed to rile both her and her colleague.
‘We’re done here,’ Goldman added.
Lea couldn’t get out of her seat quick enough. She stormed to the door. Stormed down the corridor.
‘Lea, wait!’ Denis shouted.
She didn’t. She reached the lifts. Hit the call button. Was standing inside pushing the door close button over and over when Denis barged his way inside.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said when the doors had closed behind him.
‘For not backing me up?’
His eyes pinched in distaste. ‘You think I haven’t got your back?’
‘You barely said a word in there.’
‘I didn’t see the point. Goldman had already made her mind up. You saw that, right? Nothing we said would have changed anything.’
Lea didn’t respond but turned away from him.
Denis hit the emergency stop button and the lift rocked to a halt.
‘What are you doing?’ Lea said, moving towards the panel but Denis blocked her.
‘You really think I don’t have your back?’
He was angry. With her. Well, she was angry with him. With everything, really.
‘I’d do anything for you,’ he said. ‘I mean that.’
‘Can we just go?’ she said to him.
‘No. Not until you understand—’
‘Then what are we going to do from here?’ she asked him.
He didn’t answer.
‘Will you still help me? Because I won’t just give up.’
‘You heard what Goldman said. We can’t—’
‘So you won’t help me. You just said you’d do anything for me.’
‘Lea, please—’
‘Can we just go!’ she shouted, glaring at him. And for a moment he looked really angry too.
Then he reached forward, closed his eyes. Planted his lips on hers.
He should have realised within the first millisecond that he’d misread the situation. Instead, he doubled down and pushed himself closer, pushed his lips more firmly onto hers as though willing for a better response.
She thumped his side. Not hard. Just hard enough. He spluttered and stepped back… She expected to see anger. But he just looked really embarrassed. A little… destroyed.
‘Don’t ever do that again,’ she said to him.
‘Lea, I’m sorry, I—’
‘Can we just go?’
He slumped as he turned and pushed the button. The lift carried on down without another word from either of them. When the doors opened Lea brushed past him and was out like a whippet.
‘Lea!’ Denis shouted out.
She kept going.
‘Lea, please!’
But she paid him no attention as she carried on out.
19
SOMERSET
One year ago
Visiting her parents the morning of the wedding was about the hardest thing Lea had ever done in her life, and that was saying something. She’d been with them for only a couple of hours, had taken off the engagement ring on her way up the drive, quickly smoothing the indented flesh on her finger as though to help further erode, disguise, hide reality from them. While she was there, they’d talked, smiled, laughed, reminisced. They’d really wanted her to stay longer but she insisted she couldn’t because she needed to be out of the country.
Not a lie. She and Callum would be on a flight to Portugal – their happy place – first thing in the morning.
But that wasn’t really the point.
She felt cruel, having to lie to them about this, perhaps the most important day of her life, and probably one of the most important in theirs if they’d known.
The big problem was that this way of living had been cemented years ago, and there was no way back now. Not everyone who worked for MI6 had to live a bogus existence. It was a choice. A choice Lea had made at the age of only twenty-one when she’d been suggested for work overseas as a field agent, at a time when to her the world, especially the world her new paymasters could show her, seemed so exciting and diverse. The only drawback? Or not the only one, but certainly one of the biggest, was that she had to leave Claire Simmonds behind and become someone else entirely. Lea Torrence. But doing so simply opened so many different doors for the types of assignments she could be given, because it all came down to very simple concepts of security and risk. With a false identity, Lea was able to take on much riskier assignments, knowing that those she loved the most were left protected by their disassociation.
It had seemed like a no-brainer to a twenty-one-year-old, eyes wide open at what the world had to show her.
And it had been worth it. She’d done so much in the last few years, so much for the greater good. But now… there really was no turning back.
A knock on the door. Lea took one last look in the mirror, satisfied with her hair, make-up, the hired dress, and got up from the chair and moved to the door. She opened up. Goldman.
‘Wow. You look… stunning.’
Honestly, Lea felt it. Goldman… She looked pretty good too. With her hair loose – did she have some extensions too? – and make-up and a tasteful light blue dress she looked so… normal. So unlike her normal self, at least. Helped by the coloured contact lenses too. But today she wasn’t Erica Goldman, either the MI6 variety, or the BTS Consulting variety. Today she was Pauline Torrence, Lea’s mother. The only member of Lea’s ‘family’ who’d be attending the small ceremony.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Lea said and after a brief silence they both burst out laughing.
‘Come on, let’s go.’
Goldman smiled and Lea grabbed her purse and they headed out, made their way down to the hotel lobby, the silence becoming more awkward. Was it sad that Lea’s boss had to be here to play this role today? Very. But actually, Goldman knew Lea as well as anyone else in her life, so it was also fitting in many ways, even if their relationship had always been on a professional level, no real social interactions. And the sad truth was that the only other option would have been to hire an actor which would have been ridiculous. This was still Lea’s day. She didn’t want strangers here.
She just wished there’d been a way to get her real parents here. She was an only child and because of a variety of issues from deaths to fall outs, they were now the only family she had. And it wasn’t like she had a big friend group either. Only assets and people at MI6 really, a small number of whom – mainly from the office-based teams in London – she’d invited to the evening reception later so that it appeared she was something approaching normal to Callum and his family and guests.
Lea and Goldman moved out across the reception area of the hotel, a boutique establishment on the outskirts of Bath. A pleasant hotel, with a stunning manicured country garden, but it really wasn’t the kind of place Lea had envisaged getting married in over the years. Too small. Too plain. Except, in her conversations with Callum, it was exactly the type of place she’d insisted she’d be most comfortable with.
And despite pressure on him for something bigger, more spectacular, which she knew came mostly from his mum and aunt, Lea had won out. The main reason for his capitulation had been her compromise of getting married sooner rather than later. Because she really did want to marry him, even if she’d dragged her feet for the best part of eighteen months, unsure how they could ever make it work. Now a certain part of her just wanted to get it over and done with so she and Callum could move on.
A horrible way to think about her own wedding, but that was the reality.
They reached the entrance to the Prince Philip Suite. A grand name for a space that often doubled as a basic meeting room for small conferences. But it did have ornate fixtures from the beamed ceiling to the big stone fireplace. The doors were open. Lea spotted Callum at the desk by the fireplace, talking to the registrar. He realised she was there and turned and beamed at her and came over.
‘Lea…’ was all he said as he took in her dress before he reached forward and planted his lips on her cheek. Well, he’d aimed for her mouth but she twisted her head away so he didn’t smudge her lipstick. ‘You look amazing.’ He turned to Goldman. ‘And you must be Pauline.’
Goldman held out her hand and Lea tried not to cringe. She’d dreaded this first interaction. Dreaded the idea of any interaction between the two of them.
Callum shook her hand, more than a little awkwardly, although Goldman looked anything but.
‘How was the flight over?’ he asked her. Because Pauline Torrence now lived in Spain. Keep her out of sight, out of mind.
‘A bit boring,’ Goldman said. ‘No TVs on a short hop like that.’
‘Andalusia, right?’
‘Yes. A small white-washed village up in the mountains. Heaven on earth.’
‘Can’t wait to visit it. I love that area.’
‘Oh, that would be lovely,’ Goldman said, unfazed. ‘You know, you look even better than the pictures Lea sent me. Really nice. Big and strong, just like Lea told me.’
