The Secret

Steven made to cross between two of the white vans, knowing that he would be out of sight until Khan picked him up again on the other side only he didn’t cross. He remained between the two vans and counted to five before returning to the same side where he ran back fifteen metres or so before moving between another two vans and standing still. Khan, not seeing him on the other side would return to this one. Steven crossed and ran back another few metres before doing the same again. He repeated this until he was sure he was behind Khan.

Steven sneaked a look from behind one of the vans and saw Khan standing in the middle of the lane, looking towards the end as if puzzled. He looked up at the buildings on either side as if wondering which one his quarry must have gone into but they were all in darkness. Steven read his mind: Khan would have to assume it was a lost cause and turn back.

Steven withdrew his pistol and waited between the two vans for Khan to pass by. As he did so, Steven levelled the Glock and said, ‘Psst.’

Khan froze in his tracks then turned slowly to have the street lights reveal that he wasn’t Khan at all. It was Bill Andrews.

Andrews took in the gun and said, ‘Steven, buddy, what the hell?’

‘Remove your weapon and place it slowly on the ground.’

‘What the hell is this?’

‘Do it.’

Andrews did what he was told, still protesting, ‘Steven, come on man, we’re on the same side.’

‘Now step back.’ Steven picked up the weapon and put it in his pocket. ‘Now start walking down the lane. I’ll be right behind you.’

When they reached the junction at the end, Steven ordered Andrews to cross the road and start descending the old stone steps he’d find on the other side. They led down to the Thames which, at half-tide, was lapping over the green slime on the bottom three or four steps.

Andrews could now see that there was no destination ahead other than the sluggish river and panic appeared in his voice — albeit controlled panic. ‘What the hell are you doing, man? What are we doing here?’

‘Justice for Simone,’ said Steven. ‘Time to pay for what you did to my friend.’

‘This is crazy,’ exclaimed Andrews. ‘I had nothing to do with that, Steven. As God is my witness I believed it was an accident until last week when I found out about Ranjit Khan. That’s why I was following you; I came to warn you about Khan.’

‘Sure you did. You pretended not to know Khan when I spoke to you in Paris when in fact you and he had been buddies for years. You even played houses when you were at Harvard together.’

‘Sure we did, but come on man, he was Pakistani Intelligence and I — as I suppose you now know — am CIA. We didn’t want to advertise any intelligence interests at the time.’

‘You told me he’d returned to Pakistan when in fact he flew to Paris where he killed Aline Lagarde.’

‘Christ, man, I thought he had returned to Pakistan. I genuinely thought that. I didn’t know the bastard had a different agenda. That’s what I came to warn you about.’

‘You and Khan killed Simone. You were working together.’

‘No,’ insisted Andrews, ‘you’ve got it all wrong. It was just like I told you; I lost my contact lens and made a stupid joke about it. The next thing I knew was that Simone was over the balcony.’

‘Khan put her over... while you created a diversion.’

‘Look, it didn’t occur to me at the time that Khan had anything to do with it: I didn’t think he had any reason to, but in the light of what I’ve learned recently... that might well be true. But I swear to God, I personally had nothing to do with it.’

The water level had risen so that the Thames was now lapping over Andrews’ shoes. He seemed not to notice as he looked pleadingly at Steven.

‘Remove one of your contact lenses,’ said Steven.

‘What?’

‘You heard. I don’t think you wear contact lenses. If you do, I just might believe you. If you don’t, it was a diversion in Prague and it’s kiss-your-arse-goodbye time.’

Andrews seemed to freeze completely for a few seconds: Steven suspected that he must be contemplating one last desperate move to save his skin. He moved the Glock slightly to emphasise that he was entirely focused on the matter in hand and could pull the trigger faster than Andrews could mount any last ditch attack. ‘I’m waiting.’

Andrews put his hands to his face and went through the motions of removing a contact lens. Steven remained suspicious, thinking that this was exactly what he’d do in Andrews’ position before going for a last minute lunge.

‘There you go,’ said Andrews, holding out his right hand, palm upwards.

It was too dark for Steven to see. ‘Turn around: put your hand behind your back and then open it.’

Andrews complied, the water now sloshing round his ankles.

Steven moved down two steps and pressed the barrel of his gun against the back of Andrews’ neck. ‘Don’t move a muscle,’ he warned. He looked down and saw the lens sitting in Andrews’ palm. He removed it with the tip of his index finger then replaced it. ‘You live to fight another day.’

Twenty eight