Chapter FIVE
"Rooms for three, on the top floor. Yes, sir, I think I can manage that." The reception clerk at the Duke of Marlborough Hotel opened up the register and checked through his list of vacancies.
The three men crowded into the lobby were dressed in comfortable, faded clothing and well-worn boots; each was carrying a heavy backpack. Two were English; the third sounded European but the clerk couldn't quite place where he was from.
"Yes, sir; there are two singles and a deluxe double with kitchen and phone on the top floor, all available."
"Deluxe double?" The blond one with the long braid had been letting the others do the talking; suddenly he was interested.
"There's a double bed, a telephone, and a kitchenette where you can prepare food. Well, reheat food, and make toast. Phone calls are extra, of course; you dial zero for an outside line."
"We'll draw lots," the foreign-sounding one said firmly, glaring at the blond. He turned back to the clerk. "We'll take them. We're not sure how long we'll be staying; is that a problem?"
The clerk huffed in amusement. "Long time since we had to turn visitors away, sir. Open-ended is fine; we'd appreciate 24 hours' notice when you plan to vacate."
The three signed the register and deposits were paid; the clerk handed over the keys. The backpackers crammed into the ancient lift, and began the slow, clanking ascent to the top floor.
Klaus, Neville and the Earl stepped out of the lift. A quick check confirmed that the rooms they'd taken were the only ones on the top floor, so there'd be no other guests wandering by to see what they were doing.
"I'll take the double," Klaus said firmly. "We'll establish our lookout point in that room and we can all make use of the facilities."
"I thought you said we'd draw lots," the Earl protested.
"That was for the clerk's benefit. We'll use the rooms in the way that's of most use to the operation. Both of you go and put your stuff in your rooms and then join me in here." Klaus let himself into the double room, which was in between the other two, and closed the door.
Five minutes later, the three were gathered in Klaus's room. The central area seemed barely large enough to house the double bed, small table and two chairs, and meagre wardrobe that it held. At one end of the room, the screened-off "kitchenette" consisted of a laminated bench with a microwave oven and a kettle on it, and a row of cupboards below. A scanty bathroom was squeezed in at the opposite end, and the telephone hung on the wall next to the bathroom door. The room's most positive attribute was the row of windows overlooking the street, which gave a clear view in both directions and a direct line of sight to the entrance to Parker's building.
"Your room's hardly better than mine, Major," the Earl remarked, seating himself on one of the chairs. "I think 'deluxe' is something of an exaggeration."
"Comfort is a matter of discipline," Klaus snapped. "All right. With three of us here, we can keep a watch on the flat at all times. I'll take the first shift, the Earl can take the second. Neville – you get a good night's sleep and take over in the morning. Then we'll rotate again."
The others nodded.
"I don't expect that there'll be much to see until tomorrow evening. Then, if Parker's suppliers turn up, we all have to be ready to deal with them. Now, to update you both: I phoned the art dealer in Edinburgh this afternoon. He's got all the paperwork sorted out to sell the painting, and I've instructed him to get it on the market straight away. I'll phone him again in the morning with the number for this room in case anything happens in the next day or two, but I doubt that the thing will be sold that quickly. Neville – have you got everything set up for when the money hits Parker's bank account?"
"Yes, sir. We've put electronic tracers on the Zurich account. If the money gets transferred on to a third location, they'll harvest the number of the destination account. It'll all happen automatically, and any activity at all will alert someone back at HQ."
Neville and the Earl went back to their rooms, and Klaus set the more comfortable-looking of the two armchairs in place by the window in the corner of the room. With the lights out, he was able to see clearly down the street in both directions, with an unimpeded view of the front entrance to Parker's building. At two a.m., he woke the Earl, who took his place at the window while Klaus slept, fully clothed and wrapped in a blanket on top of his bed.
Neville took over watching the flat at seven a.m. The Earl returned to his room to get some more sleep. Klaus went out to find a shop to buy provisions, since one night at the window had already exhausted the room's paltry supply of teabags and coffee sachets.
When Klaus came back, Neville was slumped in the chair, gazing down the street with an expression of intense boredom on his face.
Klaus boiled the kettle and made two cups of Nescafé. He handed one to Neville. "Anything to report?"
"What d'you reckon?" Neville sat up and stretched. "Nobody's gone in or come out across the road. A few people have walked past. Hardly any traffic." He sipped his coffee. "What happens if nobody turns up tonight?"
Klaus shrugged. "Might mean they've got wind that Parker's gone. We don't know for sure there was anyone scheduled to come anyway. We just have to test the hypothesis, and respond as appropriate."
"Yeah, I guess so. Major— why do you call the Earl 'Eroica'? Is that some kind of code name?"
"Something like that."
"Do you work with him much?"
Klaus rolled his eyes. "More than I want to. Although, I might as well admit this: he's a good operative when he puts his mind to it." He sipped his coffee, and smiled grimly. "Half the time, he's a bloody loose cannon; won't take orders. But when the chips are down, I'd trust him above most other people." Another sip of coffee. "Don't you tell him I said that, Neville. He'd be bloody unbearable if he knew."
Neville went back to his room when his shift was finished; Klaus made himself another drink and took up his position by the window. Down in the street, pale afternoon sunlight splashed an illusion of warmth on the walls. A few people and a smattering of cars crawled across the scene. Klaus's eyes were on the here and now, but his mind was on what might transpire that evening.
If Parker's suppliers turned up, as the garrulous neighbour had suggested they might, then the three of them should be able to overpower them. That would surely mean progress. Information. Material evidence to trace.
And if they didn't—? If they didn't, then that would suggest this avenue of inquiry was dead, and unless Neville's technical team could come up with something concrete when the bank account was next used, then the operation was in trouble.
The door opened, and the Earl let himself in. "Only me, Major. I came to get something to drink. All this waiting around is deadly."
Klaus handed the Earl his empty coffee mug. "There's Nescafé. Make me another one, too."
The Earl turned on the kettle and began spooning coffee granules into the mugs.
The phone rang. Klaus got up from his chair and crossed the room to answer it.
Sandy Selkirk's Edinburgh accent sounded down the line. "Mr Schumacher? Good news. We've had a very quick response, and I have a buyer for your painting. A Mr Jones, from Luxembourg."
Klaus glanced back toward the kitchenette. "Buyer for the painting," he mouthed silently at the Earl.
"He's made an offer which I think is fair and reasonable," Selkirk continued, "although I could hold out for a larger sum if you wish."
"How much?"
Selkirk mentioned a figure that sounded very large to Klaus.
"A moment, please, Mr Selkirk."
Klaus covered the mouthpiece and repeated the figure to the Earl, who nodded, and said, "That's a fair price, toward the upper end of what you might expect."
Uncovering the mouthpiece, Klaus said, "Yes, Mr Selkirk, I accept. Can you make the arrangements?"
He hung up the phone. The Earl handed him a steaming mug of coffee.
"That was a faster result than I'd expected. Take over the chair, will you, Eroica? I'll go and find Neville, and let him know."
Ten minutes later, Klaus was back again.
"Neville will arrange for someone back at Headquarters to deposit the sum in Parker's bank account in cash, once we get confirmation from Selkirk that the buyer has paid. Then, we wait to see what the electronic tracking tells us."
The Earl was sitting in the watcher's chair sipping Nescafé, observing the comings and goings in the street below, so Klaus pulled up the second chair and joined him at the window. The two of them sat sipping coffee, watching the street. The time passed, the sunlight shifted on the walls outside, and nobody entered or left Parker's building.
A few minutes before six, the phone rang again.
Klaus crossed the room and lifted the receiver. A sequence of harsh expressions crossed his face, and then he held the phone out to the Earl at the end of a stiff arm.
"For you. One of your pack of thieves," he snapped, and stalked into the kitchenette to make himself another cup of coffee as the Earl took the phone and began to speak.
"Bonham love! You have some news for me?" A pause, and then: "Oh, don't worry about what James says; I'll deal with him when I get home."
Hearing the Stingy Bug's name, Klaus began to make as much noise as he could, clashing crockery, opening and closing cupboards loudly, trying to block out the Earl's voice. He had no desire to hear about any of the man's domestic imbroglios.
In spite of his efforts to bury the sound of the conversation, he caught the words "Jonesy" and "Luxembourg".
Luxembourg? What the fuck?
The Earl hung up the phone and sauntered into the kitchenette. "I'm getting tired of instant coffee. Do you have any tea? Loose leaf preferably, not tea bags."
"No, I don't have any fucking tea, loose leaf or fucking tea bags. What was that about Luxembourg?"
The Earl raised his eyebrows. "Were you listening in to my conversation? Really, Major."
"Luxembourg. Are you up to something, Eroica?"
"James has been making people's lives difficult over some money transfers, that's all." The Earl began poking through the cupboards, trying to find something to drink other than Nescafé.
Klaus seized him by the shoulders and spun him round so they were face to face.
"What money transfers? It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain painting, would it? Have you and Selkirk been cooking something up between you? Eroica, so help me, if you've done anything to put this operation in danger, I'll take you apart limb by limb."
"Major, calm down. Your precious operation isn't in any danger. There's no need to get worked up."
"The truth, Eroica! Did you get one of your bloody thieves to buy that painting? If you've been exploiting inside information for your own advantage, so help me—"
"You're jumping to conclusions, Major—"
"And how did your gang of ruffians know the phone number here? Tell me that!"
"I let them know, of course; if anything went wrong at the Castle, they'd need to be able to get in touch with me."
Klaus let the Earl go and took a step backwards, breathing hard. He was going to need the man's help in another hour or two; best not to damage him or offend him beforehand. He took a deep, calming breath.
"Eroica," he said, reining in his temper, "is there a connection between Selkirk selling that bloody painting, and that phone call from your thieves?"
The Earl looked Klaus straight in the eye. "Major, I would do nothing – nothing – that would endanger your operation. If the painting's been sold, that's good news. Bonham wanted my advice about a household matter. You have nothing to worry about."
Behind them, the door opened, and Neville came in. "Nearly time for me to take over here, Major," he said.
Klaus tore his gaze away from the Earl. He wasn't entirely convinced he should trust him, but he needed to.
"All right," Klaus said; "The Earl and I will take up our positions in Parker's flat. I'll be in radio contact with you, Neville – report anything you see, no matter how trivial. If anyone turns up at the flat, be ready to come and join us. We don't know what we're expecting, so be ready for anything."