‘Yes,’ Richard says. I suddenly realise why he looks so absolutely crushed.
‘So that means … no trial?’
‘No trial.’
‘I’m sorry, pal. I think you’d have done a brilliant job.’
‘Thank you.’
‘There’ll be another case like this. You just have to believe in British criminals.’
‘I hope so.’
And after muttering some congratulations he clearly doesn’t mean, Richard steps out of my life, so far for good. You didn’t get to spend any quality time with him, I’m afraid, but he’s awfully busy and I’m not sure he enjoys life so much. Mothers: warn your children off a career in the law. As he leaves, he turns and says:
‘You have another visitor, by the way.’
Thirty seconds after Richard white-rabbits off to his next perp, Kate McAdams of the National Crime Agency enters the room, scans it, then makes a beeline for me. She looks much more comfortable in uniform than she did in the restaurantwhere we first met her. She sits and gets out a greige folder, labelled in head-girl copperplate.
‘Hello …’ She consults her notes. ‘Which of these names am I using?’
‘Al is fine.’
‘I’m here to talk through the details of the agreement you’re going to sign. It shouldn’t be me really, but they thought you’d react well to a friendly face.’ This is pushing it. She looks like a child’s drawing of a frown.
‘Well, thank you, Kate.’
‘So. These are the terms.’ She pushes a sheet of paper over to me.
‘Is it common for the police to ask people to sign NDAs?’
‘Nothing about this story is common. But if you keep your mouth shut on this one – for ever – we’re willing to drop the charges, as your lawyer should have told you.’
‘Even the Lethbridge one?’
‘You will have a totally clean slate. Plus, if you do keep your mouth shut, it means you probably won’t be targeted by the Qumaris. Or the Iranians. Or any of these crime families Mr Harcourt had worked with over the last decade and whose houses you turned up at asking personal questions.’ She slides over another sheet of paper with a lot of names on it.
I give it a read. A few names jump out at me. I point at one. ‘Didn’t they get a podcast made about them?’
‘You’ve annoyed a lot of people.’
‘These ones are the actual Mob, aren’t they?’
Kate remains impassive. I sign the NDA.
‘Any questions?’
‘Thirty or forty. What happened to Conor Vane?’
‘He’s in custody. He was arrested actually leaving the House of Commons. Great bit of theatre.’
‘He told us Rob Wallace was involved in Davy’s murder.’
‘Yeah. We think he was just trying to throw you off. Probably panicking. We’ve found out quite a lot about Mr Vane since you saw him last.’
‘Was it him who sent the spies after us? The British ones, I mean?’
‘Yes.’ Despite being Scottish and therefore having almost translucent skin, I’d swear Kate is blushing a little. ‘Obviously Charli Harcourt was the one who had the financial interest in you staying alive, at least until she’d tracked you down and got access to Mr Harcourt’s half of the account. But after you visited Vane, he just wanted you shut up, and he was worried enough to pull the biggest lever available to him. He phoned some … contacts in the security services and persuaded them that it was in everyone’s interests that you be removed from the board.’
