He paused and glanced at Woolf. ‘I’m sure MI5’s doing a fine job of monitoring all the would-be jihadis in our midst, but if you’re looking for someone with the skills to carry out an assassination such as this, our eager returnees from Syria might be a good place to start.’

She turned to Woolf. ‘Well?’

Woolf bit his bottom lip while he crafted the appropriate answer. ‘The cabinet secretary is quite right that the returnees are a source of concern. And we will, of course, continue to rule nothing out.’

She pursed her lips. Typical bloody opaque MI5 answer. Something was going on in his head that he wasn’t broadcasting to the room. She could sense it. She spread her hands flat on the table. ‘Well, I suggest we get back to work. No use fiddling while Britain burns.’

As the meeting broke up she remained seated. She caught Woolf’s eye and, with a tiny movement of her

forefinger, gestured for him to sit back down.

Chapter 10

10

Woolf sat motionless, mentally checking his body language, trying to look composed, not defensive. Inside he was in turmoil.

‘Either you know something and aren’t saying or you genuinely haven’t a clue.’

Garvey’s eyes bored into his. She could practically see the cogs in his brain frantically spinning. Clearly, he hadn’t bargained for this. The DG had probably only sent him along because he happened to be standing outside his office trying to get his attention. Just be there – say nothing to the room. Those would have been Mandler’s instructions.

‘Come on, man. We’re both on the same side here. Spit it out.’

Halford had been easy: his hubris and defensiveness made him vulnerable. But Woolf looked like a more complex creature, harder to read: junior, dishevelled, very bright, yet seemingly unambitious. She suspected that was just a cover. She had noted the care he had taken not to rile Halford, while subtly distancing himself from the commissioner’s hare-brained theories about gangsters. He was an operator, all right.

Woolf passed a hand over his chin; he had forgotten to shave. ‘It’s early days, and a lot of it is conjecture.’

‘Well, it can’t be any worse than Halford’s effort. Keep going.’

He checked his tie again. ‘I’m going out on a limb here.’

‘Do I hear the sound of distant chainsaws?’

‘Even the Service is divided.’

Ah, she thought. Does this mean he’s actually got something worth hearing?

He looked at her properly for the first time since they had been alone. ‘The Muslim extremist cells – those we know of – they’re still our main focus, but – well, they don’t want this.’

She reached over to a jug and poured herself some water. She didn’t offer him any. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Anything that brings the police out in big numbers, any step-up in surveillance, makes their lives harder.’