Simon’s heart sank in disappointment. He’d been imagining a much more challenging assignment. ‘May I ask why, sir?’
‘We think you are the most suited for the task. I believe you’ve already met Zoe Harrison. As I’m sure you have gathered, she and His Royal Highness are “involved”. You will be assigned to her as her full-time personal security officer. You will be briefed by one of their officers this afternoon.’
‘I see. Sir, may I ask why you feel it necessary to place an MI5 agent such as myself as a bodyguard? Not wishing to sound churlish, but the position is hardly what I’ve been trained for.’
A glimmer of a smile hovered on his lips. ‘As it happens, I rather think it is.’ He pushed a file towards Simon. ‘I must leave for a meeting now. You will stay here, read this dossier and have it memorised by the time I return. You will be locked in while you read it.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘Once you have read it, you will understand exactly why I want you to be close to Miss Harrison. The situation suits our purposes well.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Simon took the thick file.
‘Do not make any written notes. You will be searched on the way out.’ The old man wheeled himself round his desk and across the carpet. ‘We can discuss things further when you’ve absorbed the information.’
Simon stood up, walked to the door and opened it to allow the wheelchair to pass through. The door closed behind him and he heard the key turn in the lock on the outside. He went back to sit in a chair and studied the file. The red stamp on the front told him he was about to read the highest category of classified information. Few pairs of eyes would have glanced at it previously. He opened the dossier and began to read.
An hour later, the door was unlocked and opened.
‘Have you read and understood, Warburton?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Simon was still reeling from shock.
‘Are you aware of why we think you would be suitable to act as Zoe Harrison’s bodyguard for the foreseeable future?’
‘I believe so, sir.’
‘I’ve chosen you, because your discretion and capabilities are highly regarded by Jenkins and your colleagues. You are a personable young man who is quite capable of befriending a female such as Miss Harrison. She will be informed by the palace that you are to move into her house from the weekend and accompany her wherever she goes.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘This should give you ample opportunity to discover what she knows. Her phone lines in Dorset and London have already been tapped. You will also be given the appropriate hardware to place around the house. You will understand now it is of the utmost urgency that we find the letter we need. Sadly, it seems Sir James has decided to play games with us from beyond the grave. The letter you brought to us was a decoy. Your directive is to find and retrieve the letter.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Warburton, I need hardly tell you that what I have entrusted you with is of the utmost delicacy. Others, such as Simpson, have been briefed on a need-to-know basis only. The subject matter must not underanycircumstances be discussed outside this room. If there are leaks, it will be you whom I will blame. However, if the situation is brought to a satisfying conclusion, I can guarantee you’ll be very well rewarded.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘When you leave here, you will be issued with a mobile phone which contains one telephone number. You will use it only to report directly to me at four o’clock each afternoon. Otherwise, in your role as personal security officer to Miss Harrison, you will report to the palace security office.’ He gestured to an envelope on the table, which Simon picked up. ‘Your orders are in there. HRH wishes to see you in his rooms at the palace in one hour. I’m relying on you, Warburton. Good luck.’
Simon stood up, shook the proffered hand and walked towards the door. Then he turned in afterthought. ‘Just one thing, sir. Haslam told me that the name of the old lady who sent her the letter was “Rose”.’
The man in the wheelchair gave a cold smile and his eyes glinted. ‘As you know, that situation has been dealt with. Suffice to say, “Rose” was not quite who she seemed.’
‘Right, sir. Goodbye.’
Zoe gazed out of the window, admiring the Queen Victoria Memorial that stood in front of the palace, from a different and very privileged angle.
‘Come away, darling. You never know who’s hovering up a tree with a telephoto lens these days.’ Art closed the thick damask curtain tightly and led her back to the sofa.
They were in Art’s sitting room, and adjoining this was his bedroom, bathroom and study. Zoe snuggled into Art’s arms and he handed her a glass of wine.
‘Here’s to us, darling,’ he toasted.
‘Yes.’ She raised her glass to his.
‘By the way, did you find your mobile phone?’
