He sipped the Coke as his gaze swept the crowd. A couple of retired generals he recognized were deep in discussion with a former British ambassador to Kabul, now an academic. And the home secretary who had a crowd of suits round her, was looking as if she wished she was somewhere else. He caught sight of Mandler, who raised an eyebrow a millimetre.

Tom decided to let his guard down and came up alongside him. ‘Rolt’s not coming. He was pissed off about not getting a one-to-one with the PM.’ He nodded in the direction of the home secretary. ‘You briefed her yet?’

A gale of laughter exploded around Sarah Garvey. She managed a wan smile.

‘Somewhat,’ Mandler replied, with a guarded look. ‘We got an A-plus for the garage, but I chose not to spell out all the loose ends. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.’

‘Did you mention Clements?’

‘Mm. She didn’t react. They’re not exactly each other’s greatest admirers. If we were to start poking around in his dark corners, it might look as though she’d put us up to it. Westminster’s a very small village.’

He deposited his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘Anyway, I can’t hang around. It doesn’t do for Madam to think I’m bunking off at this hour of need.’

‘She’s not exactly looking overworked herself.’

The suits had moved off and Garvey was now talking to the old generals. Mandler shrugged and, with another raised eyebrow at Tom, melted into the crowd.

He would hang around for the President, then make his escape. He could call up his dad, see if he was still free for dinner. He had been a bit sharp with the old boy about his scheming with Delphine, and owed him an apology. He was musing on whether he could ever come clean with him about his true role at Invicta when he felt his phone vibrate. He moved through the french windows onto the terrace.

It was Woolf.

‘Tom. The man in the hole: he’s been stabilized and is able to talk. His name’s Karza Kovacevic, a Bosnian by birth, now a British national and a returnee from Syria. He’s not making a whole lot of sense yet. He claims he wasn’t a member of the group in the garage – says they abducted him.’

‘Okay . . .’

‘But here’s a thing, we’re checking out his family and – get this – his brother’s working for the government. “Speaks on multiculturalism”, according to the Party’s blurb.’

‘If they lifted him, they wanted something.’

‘Anyhow, we haven’t got to him yet.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Sahim Kovacevic.’

Tom stood, the mobile to his ear, thinking. The only reason to lift someone and keep them is leverage.

‘Tom? You still there? Tom?’

‘Forward me a mug shot. I’ll find out if he’s here.’

Chapter 88

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