Zaf now knew better than to just walk through Ruth's back door unannounced, having done it the previous week and found her wrapped in his boss's arms, only to be given a look that said, knock for Christ sake will you. Her telling him not to worry and that Harry was lovely, wasn't an adjective that he would have applied to his boss, but then he wasn't sleeping with him and being treated to whatever else Harry had in the way of assets.
On the plus side, he was really enjoying his role as her bodyguard and spending his evenings and nights holed up in Harry's house. It was certainly a lot more comfortable than his poky little flat, or one of the safe houses that he and Ruth would have been living in, if she hadn't been glued to Harry. But then if she wasn't, she wouldn't need protecting, and he wouldn't be playing such a pivotal role in what was so far an unsolved mystery, that seen Adam bringing him onto the team when Clive had been murdered. Aside from thinking about his current role, he still wasn't completely sure what Harry thought of him and his lack of progress in tracking Belling, and despite him having behaved like a perfect gentleman, that Harry understood the need for him to be seen with his arms around and kissing Ruth, at whatever he deemed were appropriate moments.
Zaf had been unusually quiet in the car and that concerned Ruth. Despite Harry's assurance that he would protect her and would never lie to her, she wasn't so naïve, that she didn't realise that having Zaf as her bodyguard, meant anything less than she was a potential target, for whoever had killed Clive. A cheerful and happy Zaf was what she'd got used to, but this morning he was far from that, in a world of his own. For the first time since Harry had walked into her office in need of a solicitor and into her life as her lover, she was beginning to appreciate the huge void that separated their working lives. Had there been a development? Was there something that not even he couldn't tell her? When he'd made love to her that morning and his kiss goodbye before he'd left her, had been as wonderful as they always were. She'd have known if he'd been distracted.
'Aren't you supposed to be holding my hand?' she asked Zaf, trying to tempt a reaction, and bring him back from whichever planet he was currently exploring. They were approaching the Tate Modern, before turning left and onto the bridge, to be jostled by the same multitude of faceless ants that were heading in the opposite direction. Zaf squeezed her hand obediently, thinking briefly how lucky Harry was to have a woman that so obviously loved him, before reverting back to his previous thoughts about Jason Belling and where he fitted in to all this. He'd been around for years, incidental small fry, joined at the hip to Oliver Mace according to Adam, which despite his lack of skills in keeping his identity hidden, still made him extremely dangerous and one they needed to watch. If he could find him or better still catch him in a meeting with Juliet should be simple, but slippery as a snake during daylight hours, he'd found a way to blend in and disappear. Something else that had added to Harry's obvious ire and made him feel like the new boy at school who was struggling to fit in, because his mother had made him turn up in short trousers.
First things first, he had precious cargo to deliver to work and a cup of freshly made coffee to enjoy.
'Sorry I had a bit of a rough night,' he told Ruth, squeezing her hand again as they paused to gaze at the river, already knowing that she was far too bright to believe his feeble excuse for ignoring her.
'Who's he talking too I wonder?' Juliet muttered under her breath, exiting the pods and giving Fiona her first glimpse of what Adam had described as 'the last woman on earth that he'd want to sleep with'. Striding out at an alarming speed as if she owned the place, she was obviously heading for Harry's office, where Fiona could see by the look on his face, that Harry was making his first of many 'are you alright? or 'I'm missing you' calls to Ruth, even though Zaf as he always did, had rung through and confirmed that Ruth was not only safe and sound at work, but that he'd waited there for a few minutes to ensure that they hadn't been followed. New love was special and it didn't matter what age you were when it happened. Once you loved someone they became part of you and you always worried. Fiona knew only too well how she felt, every time that Adam put himself in danger.
Deciding to take matters into her own hands and give Harry sufficient time to notice that Juliet was approaching, she stood up from her desk, and with the ease of someone appearing to be totally lacking in vision, stepped straight in front of Juliet, spilling the coffee she was holding and halting the witch's progress.
'God I'm so clumsy,' she apologised bleakly as though she didn't know who Juliet was, and then added 'sorry', when Juliet told her to stop fussing, she didn't need mopping up, despite the fact that her pristine skirt was absorbing a fair amount of Fiona's cappuccino.
'He's talking to Vladimir Putin by the away, I doubt he'll appreciate being disturbed,' got a smile that didn't quite reach Juliet's eyes, as Fiona continued to play dumb and detain Juliet for even longer, by which time Harry had heard the rumpus, said shit and was appreciating Fiona's input.
'Sorry I have to go, I'll ring you as soon as Malcolm's had a chance to look.' I love you still hung in the air, as Harry put the phone down and took the first file off the huge pile that required his attention and that he'd so far ignored.
'Mrs. Carter tells me that you were talking to Mr Putin, how is he this morning, well I hope?' And Harry was back to the previous evening when Ruth had walked into the kitchen after her shower.
Lovely as ever he thought. 'I'll call him back shall I and you can ask him yourself?' He suggested, as Juliet plonked herself down in the seat facing Harry's at the start of her fact - finding mission into whether or not Harry was still involved in any way with Jane.
Harry was of course, with his divorce still pending, not finalised, but why the hell Juliet had thrown Jane into the conversation, albeit in jest, as opposed to a work-related issue he'd assumed she'd arrived with, had set the alarm bells ringing. Their resources were already stretched to the limit and would hardly justify him releasing another officer to protect his soon to be ex-wife, when Zaf was already out of the frame and protecting Ruth, while at the same time searching for Belling. Short of telling Juliet to go to hell, which would lead her to believe that she'd found another of his weaknesses, which she had to some extent, in that he would always feel the need to protect the mother of his children, he was stymied. Added to which, his coffee had just arrived, delivered by one of their newest analysts who was obviously trying to impress, at which point he felt obliged to offer Juliet a cup as well.
If it hadn't been so serious, the irony, would have seen Harry laughing. Juliet, his one - time lover, was still a potential threat to Jane after all these years and at the same time was a threat to the only other woman that he'd slept with since they'd parted, who just happened to be dealing with his divorce from his wife. Happy families it wasn't, worthy of a best seller it certainly was. Maybe he needed to call Jeremy Kyle or Oprah and arrange an appointment.
'Look Juliet, as nice as it is to be swapping pleasantries, if there's nothing else, I really do need to get on,' he told her, completely ignoring that fact that she was bemoaning her quite probably ruined skirt and had no intention of moving.
In the technical suite with the door locked, Malcolm had been busy since first thing. He'd set up an encrypted file on his computer that would allow him to investigate the eight candidates that Ruth had interviewed and hopefully prevent anyone from finding out what he was doing or be able to open it, should they try to hack in. Ruth insisting that she wanted to appoint a man rather than a woman, didn't preclude Malcolm from investigating each and every one of them. He wasn't interested in their credentials as a solicitor or their ability to fit in, his sole aim was to see if anyone was less than what they said they were. Ruth had failed to mention that Jason Alistair Belling, alias Michael Jarvis had arrived without invitation, why would she, she wasn't a spy and wasn't looking for trouble around every corner, so the immaculate and falsified CV that Juliet had put together on his behalf, that was still sitting on the bottom of the pile, had every chance of passing muster. It was going to be a laborious and painstaking search, which had little hope of succeeding.
The tap on his door announced the arrival of Adam, who having tried in vain to release Harry from his session of verbal bondage and failed, had sought refuge away from Juliet's inquisitive gaze, which left poor Harry on his own.
'That bloody woman's impossible, I honestly don't know what Harry ever saw in her,' he told Malcolm, handing him another coffee, before settling himself down beside him and asking him if he needed any help.
'By all means cast your eyes over this lot, I'm drawing a blank so far,' and Malcolm was interrupted again, as another knock, brought the arrival of Fiona.
'Jo Portman's been into reception, she's left a message saying that she needs to meet you again,' she told her husband, before settling down next to Malcolm and offering to take Adam's place.
The café around the corner as it was affectionately named was just that and where the employees of Thames House bought what approximated their lunch. When Adam walked in, Jo was mid- way through eating what for her was breakfast, since having been woken by the sound of her letter box clattering, she'd spent the best part of two hours taking a circuitous route around London, with the view of fooling anyone who might be following her or be in pursuit of the small package that had been delivered. Other than saying 'Happy Birthday Harry' on the card, it said nothing. Not knowing who Harry was, but having already been drawn into the investigation into Clive's murder and met Adam, she'd put two and two together and decided that another visit to Thames House was her only option. Adam, was to say the least, impressed.
'I'm assuming that you know someone called Harry and this card will be of interest to you?' she asked him, holding the card just far enough out of Adam's reach.
'Have you always been this inquisitive?' He asked her, playing along rather than snatching the card and walking away from her.
It was in their interest to keep her onside, at least for the moment. She was the only link that they had to Clive and whatever he'd written, and if this was a clue which he was fairly sure it was, she'd become an asset. Whether she knew that or not he had no idea, but he was pretty sure that she wasn't playing him or had an ulterior motive. He ordered her another coffee and one for himself.
'Have you always been called Nick Harding?' She fired back at him with an honest grin on her face and her big blue eyes holding his.
Adam paid for her breakfast, Jo didn't refuse. Eating out on the pay of a young journalist didn't mix, especially when it was difficult to find a story that would put you another step up the ladder. Discretion, keep this to yourself wasn't in her blood, but there had been something about the way that Adam had treated her, that made her believe that in this case it was essential. Besides which he was gorgeous and if she wanted to see him again, then she knew where to find him. She just needed to bide her time.
By the end of the day, Harry was at the end of his tether and had called Adam, Fiona and Malcolm into his office for a 'what the hell do we do now meeting.'
'The fact is, well we don't actually have any facts,' from Adam, wasn't helping, as he looked for the umpteenth time at the card that wished him a Happy Birthday, more than a month in advance of the date. Short of setting fire to it, it had been put through every available scanning process that existed and still nothing, other than a set of wording, which roughly translated, showed Harry's date of birth, and a couple of jottings. Short of divine intervention, that was about as likely as Juliet applying to become Mother Theresa's newest ambassador, or Belling receiving a Knighthood, they had nothing.
Malcolm who had known Ruth for years, long before she'd switched to law, knew that if anyone could work out what presumably Clive was trying to tell Harry, then it was her. Bringing her onto the grid where they had all their resources, although possible, wasn't an option. They needed another location and he had the perfect solution. Whether or not Harry would agree or let that happen, was another question entirely. Had she been anything other than the woman that he was in love with, but should something happen to her, was a question that Malcolm didn't want to dwell on, then yes. They'd used outsiders before, burned assets when they'd had to, but this was different, this was Ruth and Malcolm was at a loss as how to broach the subject.
Adam put him out of his misery. 'Penny for them Malcolm,' he asked him, noticing that his colleague had gone quiet.