Chapter 2

There was a soft vibration in his pocket. He sighed and looked across at his wife, who was preparing fruit for the pudding later that evening. It was their turn as hosts in the dinner club, and the guests would be arriving around eight for an evening of dining, wining and ‘bon homie’ expecting to conclude around midnight. The rules were simple: the hosts had to prepare all the food themselves and also had to import the wines. No friends, servants, maids or other assistants were allowed, and it was expected that those hosts who employed such would ensure that it was their night off and that they would be long gone before eight, naturally not returning until after the dinner concluded and guests had gone.

A plate of snacks and light refreshments would also have to be provided for those of the guests that would, by necessity, be accompanied. Whilst not part of the dining ensemble, the accompanying extras could not be allowed to be far away, usually retiring to a room not required for the evening’s main event but never far from it, and certainly within earshot. Often the rooms used would beneficially be equipped with access to the house surveillance systems and at least one direct telephone line.

The purpose of the evening was not one-upmanship with the food, although there were usually some very small points that could be scored with the wines. The idea of the self-preparation was simply to involve the wives, and in some cases the husbands; and the unspoken and unwritten rule was Keep It Good but Simple. Straightforward food, of high quality, simply prepared, cooked and presented. The evening was about food and company and not about who employed which chef or shopped at Fortnum’s or in Knightsbridge.

As far as all knew, the evenings were looked forward to by all who attended and usually took place around the first Saturday of the month, the only exceptions being when that coincided with official engagements occupying more than half of the group. In which case either the following Saturday came into use, or the month was skipped.

This month it was their turn to host, and they had decided to prepare a spicy lentil soup, a Chateau Briand as the main course, followed by a fruit pie and custard, with some fine cheeses and biscuits to conclude. The dough for the rolls accompanying the soup was rolled, kneaded, prepared and sitting on the side of the kitchen, waiting for its turn in the oven.

The lentils had soaked and were now marinating in the spices ready for their transformation into soup. The butcher had delivered the meat, and the cheeses were resting in the larder. As he expected, all preparations were going exactly to plan. He had not planned for the diversion in his pocket, however. The pager vibrating quietly in his pocket could potentially ruin the evening. It would require his attention to be diverted from assisting his wife and his focus to be elsewhere.

“Mary, sorry, dear. Just something I have to pop into the study for. Back in a jiff.”

“Well, don’t be long; the pastry needs doing, and you know that you have the pastry fingers in this house.”

“Yes, dear. I am sure that I shall not be long, dear.”

He wiped his fingers on a tea towel in case they had picked up any kitchen fats or juices and slipped one hand into the pocket with the pager, as the other hand opened the door leading from the kitchen. As he walked through and closed the door, he pulled the pager from his pocket and looked at the message. A quizzical look crossed his brow; it was not a message that he would have expected but was still a message that meant he had to make a call. He slipped into the study, sat at his desk and dialled the duty room.

“You paged me.”

“Yes sir. Sorry to bother you, sir, but there is a little something that has cropped up. Purely by coincidence we think, but your instructions have always been explicit in this area.”

“And this area being what exactly?”

“Sir, at approximately 1033 hours this morning an encounter took place that was not expected and subsequently developed into a further meeting.”

He sighed again and leant back into his chair. This looked as if it was going to be one of those reports that were officious and pernickety and would end up being nothing. They would only end up being nothing after an exhaustive and interrogative discussion with the duty manager, who had seen fit to call him. Why these people couldn’t just get straight to the point and tell him what was up was a never-ending source of annoyance.

Duty Manager this morning was Natalie Turner, ferociously inquisitive and able to connect dots in many directions to give a very early picture. Often the picture just ended up being a pleasant view, but sometimes the view was a window into unfolding events that needed detailed examination, and the earlier the view, the greater the advantage they gained.

“Ok, Turner, start at the beginning.”

“Yes sir. The initial encounter was observed purely by coincidence by one of our team who was on a training exercise.”

Training exercises were, by necessity, often carried out in the full view of the public. There was little point in practising only in front of your peers. If your job needed you to pass unnoticed, there was no better training ground than amongst the public. It seemed that one such training exercise had taken place this morning. There would have been at least one trained observer in the vicinity as well as the operative or operatives undertaking the exercise.

“Go ahead, Natalie; do I need to know who the observer was?”

“No, sir, he is fully up to date with his appraisals and is fully SQEP for this. Both the exerciser and the observer witnessed the events unfold, sir.”

He looked at the leather-bound clock on his desk. This conversation was already several minutes old, and still he was none the wiser as to who, never mind what.

“Natalie, can we cut to the nub, please?”

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir. The situation occurred in the Royals, and in the opinion of those present, it seemed a little contrived, sir.”

The Royals referred to Gloucestershire, a county favoured by the Royal Family and their associates for homes and weekend retreats. At any given moment in time the Royal Protection force was busier in that county than any other on the mainland. Thus the county became known through the various services as the Royals.

“In what way contrived, Natalie?”

“Well, sir, contact was made with one of our own, and to be quite honest, it seemed to be straight out of the manual. There was initially a degree of aimless wandering amongst shop aisles with obviously averted eye contact. Shortly after followed a body contact enabling a switch, and finally a meet in an isolated and empty location where covert observation of them would have been exceedingly difficult.”

“I see. Do you suspect our friends or cousins were involved? Do you have any idea who the source was?”

“No sir, we did not recognise the source. We have managed photographs of the source and the vehicle index, and this will be crossed with the KPB. All we know is that an unexpected contact has been established.”

“Was there an actual switch made?”

“Impossible to tell, sir, but there was a textbook manufactured opportunity to do so, sir.”