Many thanks to those who've stayed with this so far, especially to those who've taken the trouble to review. This chapter could be subtitled 'The circles of spies'

Briefing Room approx 5.30

Harry's brief flare of pleasure at seeing Jane was instantly extinguished by the fury in her voice. Vainly searching his memory for an inkling of what could have so angered her he was moved to protest, "Jane I didn't touch Graham, I swear."

"It's not about Graham, although I will congratulate you on your restraint in not putting our chances of grandchildren at risk twice in one day. It's about Laura."

Now Harry was completely lost, "Why what's she done?"

"Only saved me from the CIA. But what I wanted to say was how could you Harry?"

Harry was still staring at her in confusion. Jane sighed, she should have remembered that emotional intelligence was not Harry's long suit, short suit or even bespoke suit. She gathered her breath to commence another assault on his masculine obtuseness. "As I said, despite coping admirably with a nasty situation she's worried sick about failing her probation. She gets us back here safely and what do you do? Invite her into your office for a bollocking. I'm not trying to interfere with your staffing decisions..." She caught Harry's sceptical expression, "No I'm not, although I will say that the girl seems dedicated – that's why she was reading the works of Shakespeare – but if you are going to get rid of her don't prolong it, that's just cruel and vindictive." She met Harry's highly amused eye, "And why are you laughing? It's not funny."

"Sorry but even I need a good chuckle occasionally."

With those words Harry arose from his chair and walked around his desk, joining her near the vantage point of the glass panels. Pointing across the Grid he stated, "Look." Jane stared, transfixed by the sight of a grinning Laura. Turning to Harry she demanded, "What on earth...?" Harry seeing Jane's astonishment continued to smile as broadly as Laura while commenting. "I'm not sure but just possibly it's something to do with my telling her she's not on probation any longer."

Jane swapped fury for indignation, "And you let shout at you without ... allowing me to make a fool of myself... you, you bas..."

Harry sighed wearily, "Jane please don't call me a bastard. I've heard that often enough from Graham for one day. Besides which my parents were actually married. "

"Fine. You total shit then. Is that okay?"

He shook his head in mock sorrow, "It makes a slight change I suppose. Anyway can you enlighten me about the fascinating mystery of Laura and the complete works of Shakespeare, with particular reference as to how you solved it?"

"Easy. I asked her. I don't think she planned to tell me but she was on a high after outwitting the CIA so it spilled out."

Harry while, noting that this was a trait that Laura would have warned about, waited for Jane to explain further. "Seemingly after we departed from the Grid this morning Calum, as a joke, advised her to brush up on her Shakespeare as a piece of careers advice. Laura was so anxious to please she began to speed read the complete works. I told you, she's dedicated, possibly to the point of idiocy." By now Harry was shaking with laughter, completely ignoring the baleful eyes of a fuming Jane.

"It's not funny Harry. Calum may have thought it amusing but in some workplaces that behaviour could be regarded as low grade bullying."

These last words sobered Harry as he hastened to defend Calum. "Jane, that's a bit strong. Calum wouldn't dream of..."

Jane cut him short. "I know that Harry. From the little I've seen of Calum I'm sure that he'd be mortified at the thought. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that he's far more sensitive than he shows and that the jokey exterior is a defence mechanism. You'd not be tolerating him if he wasn't serious about his job."

Harry wondered if the means existed whereby he could prise the utterly useless Debra Langham out of the comfortably appointed eerie in which she ineptly lurked and install Jane in her stead. Reluctantly he concluded that the second part of that plan would be beyond even his powers of manipulation. Since on minimal acquaintance Jane had so far managed to be bang on the button regarding his senior team he could only regret the sheer implausibility of that particular notion. She was right, Calum did hide his sensitive side well but Harry had never forgotten that it had been the Grid joker who'd urged Erin and Dimitri to draw away and give Harry a few private minutes to weep over Ruth and make his immediate farewells. Calum's words on that occasion were burnt into Harry's memory, as was every other action undertaken in the frantic fifteen minutes dominated by those three fateful D's: disaster, death and deception. As his memories of that day flickered across his brain and vanished he noticed Jane's look of distress.

"Sorry Jane I didn't mean to make fun of you. You're right about Laura and I've already thanked her for getting you back in one piece." Jane's expression didn't alter a jot. Harry began to feel concerned, even an experienced spook would have felt frayed at the edges by the events she'd endured in the past twenty four hours.

"Jane are you alright? You've had a traumatic day, on top of the physical problems created by cracked ribs, your shoulder and that ankle."

Jane smiled wryly. "I can feel all three but that's not the problem." She looked Harry full in the eye as she continued, "It sounds odd, but when Laura first said it was the CIA I was terrified, but then... well within a few minutes that feeling passed and once we heard the police siren I began to get excited at the idea of outwitting them. I even felt elated once we'd escaped and that frightens me."

Harry asked gently, "Why worry about that Jane? It was simply the adrenaline kicking in, the reaction needed to stop you freezing and make you do something." Jane didn't look comforted as she almost shouted, "Because it made me understand why you couldn't give the job up. That fix makes you as big a junkie as Graham. God help me, I even began to understand why you'd bonded with your colleagues, had affairs with them and dumped us."

Harry wasn't sure how to reply: that he was thankful she'd finally understood something of the underlying reasons for actions of his younger days: that he was sorry she was so disturbed by these revelations: that he wished she'd never been forced into the position that had precipitated her new understanding. Each and every one of those statements would be true but for once in his life he was out of answers. Jane was plainly teetering on the edge of some mental precipice. Her various mood swings an indication of emotional fragility and, recalling her earlier battles with depression, it behoved him to tread carefully. Some episodes in their wince making past required neither remembrance nor revisiting. His immediate dilemma was resolved by Erin's head popping around the door, the failure of the bulk of her body to follow suit negating the necessity of knocking.

"Harry could you join us please? Calum thinks he's found something – oh and Jane of course."

Jane's previous discomfort was instantly subsumed by irritation at the slight hesitation implying that in Erin's eyes she'd been downgraded to the status of an afterthought. Tempted as she was to expostulate Jane bore in mind that she was here only by courtesy of Harry and she suspected that he'd broken a number of security rules by allowing her to invade the Grid at all. Not wanting to add to his difficulties, 'was this really Jane Townsend formerly Pearce thinking' she offered her arm in mock formality, "Shall we then Sir Harry." Harry, still disturbed by her previous outburst asked quietly as he moved towards the door, "Jane, can we discuss later how you felt about today? "

"There's a first, you discussing feelings."

"I seem to recall doing that on a number of occasions."

"I said feelings, not urges. But yes if you feel so inclined. "

Harry's lips twitched lightly, "Which would you prefer to talk about?" He gestured to her to precede him, gratified by her involuntary gasp at his audacity. It would have surprised his team to learn how rarely he'd enjoyed the luxury of the last word in their domestic disputes.

Mutually relieved to be returning to their now customary state of friendly hostility they entered the Briefing Room together. Watching Harry take his seat at the head of the table Jane, as she slipped almost naturally in the seat beside Calum, began to worry afresh about how readily she seemed to be adapting to life on the Grid. She wasn't sure which current experience was worse, her gradual conversion into an amateur spook, the new light in which she was beginning to regard Harry or the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach induced by the molten glances Erin and Dimitri were giving one another when they thought their colleagues' attentions was directed elsewhere.

The team poised and ready to review the admittedly limited progress on 'The Mystery the Missing Daughter' were therefore slightly thrown by Harry's opening statement.

"Before discussing the events of today I wish to inform you that to help tide over the current problem of staff shortage plus increased work load Malcolm Wynne Jones, whom you have all met briefly, will be rejoining Section D on a temporary basis. He was due to start on Monday but in view of our current situation he will be coming in tomorrow. He has been accorded senior desk officer status."

Erin interjected, "So who will be senior? Calum is permanent and shouldn't be demoted."

Harry had guessed that she'd object, Calum had been dragged into Section D in Erin's wake during his post Albany suspension when Erin wanted someone she could trust in a hostile environment. Her ewe lamb versus his, the question carried just a hint of power struggle. It was Calum who intervened with a surprising hint of asperity.

"Erin, you don't ask an experienced genius like Malcolm Wynne Jones to play second fiddle." Erin opened her mouth to argue but was totally ignored by Calum who turned to address Harry directly.

"I'd suggest we share the responsibility, I don't have a problem with it. I can probably update Malcolm on a few bits of kit and I'm sure I can pick his brains in return." Calum didn't dare add more. No one in the room was about to mention in front of Jane that their only sighting of Malcolm had been of his standing behind an eagle lectern reading a poem at Ruth's funeral, followed up by a few remote nods as he tended to a shattered Harry.

Surreptitiously watching Erin rage Jane thought she couldn't have looked more shocked if Calum had stabbed her through the heart with one of her own stiletto heels. Perhaps that was why she wore them to work, a feminine do it yourself weapon for tight spots. Harry on the other hand relaxed infinitesimally as he replied, "Thank you Calum. Malcolm is not a man to encroach, he must be the only person ever employed by Section D to prefer a quiet life." With this topic satisfactorily disposed of he switched into the reason from their presence in the Meeting Room.

"Now Calum what has your expertise unearthed?"

Calum had also noticed Erin's anger which made him more than willing to gratify Harry's request. With luck Erin would have been sufficiently distracted by the end of the meeting to forget about his act of disloyalty. Contradicting her hadn't made him happy but the opportunity to work with Malcolm Wynne Jones, the techie equivalent of the legendary Harry Pearce was worth any perceived temporary drop in status. Leaving Erin to brood Calum began his recap of the event that had started the investigation.

"As we know Jane set off the bomb in Catherine's flat yesterday evening. The information Dimitri finally managed to extract from the Bomb Squad suggests that the bomb would take about an hour to wire up. From that it seemed clear that Catherine must have left the flat at around five to six pm at the latest. Probably earlier as whoever wired the bombs presumably knew the CCTV would be switched back on at six pm."

Erin picked up the theme briefly, "The police checked the other tenants in the flats and those either side. Without asking directly as they didn't want to arouse suspicions, the last time anyone definitely saw Catherine was mid morning, around ten thirtyish leaving and walking towards the bus stop end of the road. Her morning routine like her evening routine varies although the time she returns home is usually later than seven. The residents in the two flats above her are elderly and rarely go out at night but they know her movements because Catherine sometimes runs odd errands for them." Having finished she indicated to Calum to continue, the flash in her eyes suggesting that his defiance was only shelved, not forgotten.

Calum obliged with, "The CCTV was out of action that day on Catherine's street and two others nearby. So I combed the CCTV from the surrounding areas and eventually..."

Jane couldn't help herself, some positive information at last, as she blurted in thankfulness. "You found her."

Calum regarded her with sympathy. "Yes and no, watch." With a click of his laptop the grainy flicker of a CCTV tape began to play on the large screen at Harry's end of the Briefing room. The blurry pixels showed a young woman, whom both Harry and Jane instantly identified as Catherine, walking along an ordinary residential street. As she approached the road junction a vehicle drew up on the opposite side. Her head turned as if she'd been hailed. She crossed the street and climbed into the car which roared away. Annoyingly the image of the driver was unclear.

It was Harry who spoke first, "Is that it?" his frustration nearly as obvious as Jane's. Calum was too busy twiddling with his laptop to reply as yet another CCTV image sprang onto the screen. This time of a cleaned up still picture featuring the same car with the driver clearly visible, a young man perhaps in his early to mid twenties. Harry's immediate thought was that the subject depicted was slightly younger than Catherine. After a brief pause for the image to register with everyone Calum continued his lecture.

"I've matched this image up with the car Catherine got into. I then checked the CCTV from her street for the date and time Graham gave me for the chap he found visiting her. This is his picture which I superimposed on the image we created from Graham's description and Bob's your uncle. Or rather who the hell is this stranger?"

Erin had to say it, "Can we rely on Graham? I mean... I'm sorry Harry and Jane but with his behaviour can we trust him?"

Before either parent could rush to the defence of their adorable baby boy Dimitri interrupted, "From Calum's double checking I would say yes we can. Beside which although he grumbled about Harry and.." It occurred to Dimitri that he was on the verge of revealing unrepeatable comments. He stalled to reboot his defence of the unspeakable Graham. "He didn't say anything vile about Catherine herself so I think we can assume he did his best, although it's a pity he couldn't give us anything more."

That made Jane jump in. "Well he did tell me that he thinks the man might be American, something in his voice." Looking at the four sets of eyes staring at her reproachfully she hastened to add, "He only remembered when we were talking about the CIA." Dimitri thought and then said, "Well that would figure except ..." He turned to Harry his brows slightly drawn together in a mystified expression.

Harry had also been deliberating the endlessly shifting kaleidoscope of information, "Exactly Dimitri, why kidnap someone and then stake out their flat? Assuming the CIA are behind this why go to the bother of organising a break in? If they have Catherine they could have used her keys."

It was Jane who tentatively reminded him. "I thought you said it was because they were looking for something? So they needed to retrieve the laptop? Although I'd wonder about her keys as well."

Harry and the others pondered this knotty point before Harry growled, "Yes but if they found what they wanted why were they staking out your house? The only explanation is that they didn't find whatever they're after and thought Catherine might have passed it to you."

As if it were a tennis match Erin lobbed her query across the table, "If they wanted something and already had Catherine why rig up the bomb, especially that type? I can see the reason for destroying the flat but why set the front door to go up, it might not been Catherine who opened it. It could have been anyone."

Feeling both her shoulder and ankle throb simultaneously as a physical reminder of the previous evening Jane felt impelled to remark somewhat sharply, "Thanks for that. It wasn't anyone, it was me."

Erin wasn't pushed off her stride as she replied just as tartly, "I know, what I meant was that if they haven't got Catherine and if she was the target setting the door to go up it seems a bit random. If they do have her I assume that Catherine wouldn't be stupid enough stay silent if she was in danger so why bomb?" It was a question that turned Jane pale with horror. Harry knew Erin's comment was relevant but wished she'd been a little less direct in expressing it. Jane had experience of the damage torture, both mental and physical, could do to the human body. He'd collected more than one scar in the days when they'd shared a bed, not to mention his nightmares over Bill's death that had also disturbed her slumbers.

Before Harry could respond Dimitri started to sum up, "The primary aim of the bomb seems to have been to destroy the flat without damaging the entire property. If we assume that they didn't know that Catherine had been lifted perhaps they were more concerned to destroy what they thought was in the flat. She was the only one likely to be using a key at night so if she blew herself up opening the door, problem solved. If they got someone else by accident they weren't bothered about collateral damage as long as the flat went up. The internal bombs were timed in case she stayed out overnight in which event they could grab her later. So when they saw a woman they thought was Catherine open the door and get blown up with the flat they didn't hang around to check the facts."

Jane was beginning to think that the argument as to whether the chicken came before the egg sounded straightforward in comparison with the theories under discussion with regard to her vanishing daughter. Smoke and mirrors didn't even begin to describe it.

Harry had noticed the absence of input from his technical officer, "Anything further Calum?"

"Not at present, I'm running facial recognition checks. With what Jane's brought to the table I'll tweak the programme to concentrate on Americans known to be domiciled in England as the primary search target. I've also set a junior officer searching for more information on the car and owner. The DNA samples arrived from forensics. We matched Catherine's and Graham's from yours Harry and we're now checking others we can't discount against various databases for matches. Unfortunately it will take time."

Time, the one thing they might be running out of as Catherine had now been missing for over twenty four hours. Harry fought down the implications by seeking information relating to other parts of the jigsaw. "What do we know about the man who wound up in the Thames? "

Dimitri was ready that one, "Pretty much what the police said, small time crook, drug addicted, for sale to buyer. Professional execution although we await the final forensic report. My guess would be whoever wanted the laptop, which probably puts the CIA in the frame. Incidentally today was possibly not the first time they'd have had a sighting of Jane."

Jane who'd been trying to follow the various hares running around in dizzyingly metaphorical circles was startled into a sudden, "What! And when?"

"Remember what you told Harry last night?" Jane's main recollection was of nothing but noise and confusion as Dimitri prompted her, "About hearing a car drive away." Jane's eyes indicated a sudden dawning of memory. "Yes but..."

Dimitri began to explain, "I remembered Geek Boy here saying the CCTV was switched on at night. Even so we couldn't make out the registration of the car you thought you heard from Catherine's street, so I checked the corners around the time the bomb went off. The number plate is English but registered to an American national by the name of Wayne O'Docherty, - I think we can assume Irish ancestry - I've got some calls out to trace him." He paused for a moment and then said, "But the real payoff is that it was the same registration as the car that collected Garside's little chum this morning."

Calum, whose scowl indicated that he was less than gratified at the nickname endowed by Dimitri, took his revenge by cutting across Dimitri's moment of triumph to question one of his assumptions. "I can see why they thought the bombs had detonated inside the flat but why did they think they'd got Catherine? Dimitri instead of answering turned to Jane. "Would you mind standing by the screen for a moment?"

Jane thought her day was becoming increasingly bizarre. So far she'd been forced to dress in another woman's underwear, nearly been poisoned by coffee, had cried on Harry's shoulder, taken his side against Graham, all in addition to the minor matters of being blown up and then pursued by the CIA. Now to top it off she was required to parade herself as a superannuated mannequin in front of the cream of Section D. Standing as requested she became aware that an image suddenly displayed on the screen beside her was being greeted by an appreciative "Ah" from Erin and Calum as Dimitri elucidated: "Exactly. Jane is the same height as Catherine, more or less the same build and in the dark the difference in hair colour and age wouldn't be obvious. When they saw Jane hit the tarmac they didn't realise she was still alive, not with all the dust and rubble flying around and they wanted to get away quickly."

Harry felt quietly vindicated in his long standing opinion of the CIA's professional training. With exception of Jim Coaver he'd always found their field agents to be arrogant and inefficient. Any officer of his reappearing after such sloppy checking would have found themselves decommissioned with immediate effect. Not for the first time he was thankful for their stupidity, on this occasion it had almost certainly preserved Jane's life. In their position he'd have ensured that any surviving witness was taken out of circulation: permanantly.

Dimitri was finishing his piece, "So they probably concluded job done, go back to Grosvenor Square and crack open the champagne, Bourbon, extra strong Coke, or whatever they drink."

Erin broke in, "If they thought they had destroyed the flat and got Catherine why the other events of today?"

Harry had a ready answer, "That's not difficult to fathom. If I'd been in charge of that op I'd have sent someone to check in the morning and report back. Once they saw the building in daylight it would be clear that they'd rejoiced too soon. Frankly it's a puzzle. It all seems a bit amateur in part but smacks of professional contacts in others.

Dimitri added innocently. "That not difficult to fathom either, I suggest that the CIA don't know their arse from their elbow."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he searched for signs of parody. Erin not wanting to see Dimitri subjected to Harry's wrath hastened to interject, "Nothing new there then."

While everyone debated this part of the mystery Jane, who was still standing by the screen supporting her weigh on an increasingly wobbly ankle, decided it was time to reassert her existence, "Can I take my geriatric self back to my chair now and expire quietly?" Dimitri realising that he might have been less than tactful began to flounder, "Sorry Jane I didn't mean that you were old, just that...that ..." Harry who'd been following this exchange with quiet and, considering the circumstances, inappropriate amusement, came to his rescue, "Dimitri, remind me to give you a master class in Jane's sense of humour."

Jane, now restored to her seat smiled across at him, "It's okay Dimitri, I don't pretend to be thirty or even forty these days, any more than Harry would pretend he's Peter Pan. I may spend my money on something beginning with B but it's on books not Botox."

The unity of thought that had characterised the discussion was momentarily shattered by her attempt to reassure Dimitri.

The team were assailed by an instant vision of Harry clothed in green jerkin and tights soaring through the air without the assistance of a bomb, although somehow they couldn't see him trilling to the world with any great conviction that 'to die would be an awfully big adventure'. Not when most of his life had been spent trying to postpone that particular adventure for himself and others as long as possible. For a couple of days after Ruth's death they had worried about the possibility of Harry and suicide. Then they'd understood that Harry saw that option as a negation of Ruth's inadvertent sacrifice and that the best way he could honour her was to stay alive and remain with Section D.

Jane wondered whether she had unwittingly strayed into one of Harry's problems. He may have grown up, but had he moved on? She considered his words that morning about being trapped in the past. But which past was he trapped in, theirs or a more recent history? Previously when Harry had seemed troubled it had been specific, the aftermath of an operation turned grisly, a recognition that their family life had taken a downturn, but then with a few days and the aid of few drinks he'd bounced back. Now his troubles seemed deep seated. Personal tragedy or the cumulative effects of his age and job? This was the question she'd been asking herself ever since he'd materialised by her bedside in the hospital. She'd accepted his hospitality and care without vouchsafing her secrets to him, so did she have the right to invade the equally hidden parts of his life?

While she was pondering this Harry was considering her last sentence. "True I thought our house would crash through the foundations with the weight of books, so if Laura was correct where are you storing them? If Graham was right why are you putting up with Robin?'

Harry called them to mental order, "The key question seems to be why set the bomb after Catherine was lifted? That presumes that whoever set it didn't know that she'd been taken. It's the only solution to make any sense at present. That in turn implies that two groups are working on this but not together. Assuming Graham is correct it would suggest all the chief culprits are American."

What had his daughter been involved with? When he finally retrieved her, and Harry wasn't prepared at present to envisage any other alternative, he'd be torn between hugging the breath out of her or giving her a good shaking, the latter being an action he more usually contemplated in relation to her brother.

Having paused for a moment he continued on, "That completes the current questions, apart from trying to find a lead via whoever knew about the CCTV being switched off. I assume you've got a junior tracing this." Calum gave a nod of affirmation. "Very well. Then we concentrate on the man Graham described and Mr Wayne O'Docherty in the first instance but continue checking the other Intel at the same time as a fall back. I do understand Calum that this is a heavy workload."

Calum spoke up, "No problem with that Harry. I only wish we could track more accurately through the CCTV."

Jane was beginning to feel a little impatient with all these tangled threads that led into a fog. The spooks lack reaction to this made her suppose that such stumbling solutions were all in a normal day's work. If so she could only marvel at what an abnormal one must be like. For herself she wanted to howl at them to do something, but what? She shot a glance in Harry's direction, to a casual observer he seemed calm and unmoved, but as she sought his eyes in a plea she realised that they were haunted with worry. She could only pin her hope on the statements made to her today by two very different people, Erin and Graham, who had both affirmed that Harry was the best bet in the solve and protect stakes. It was apparent to her as she observed the way his staff were rallying around him that he had their respect and concern. It seemed to be mutual. With a start she recognised that in the absence of contact with his family Harry had compensated by treating his team as surrogates. That must have broken his heart on so many occasions. Even standing on the borders of his life Jane had grasped that any insurance company specialising in life cover for spooks would have bankrupted Lloyds within weeks.

Harry was indeed puzzled, but long experience suggested that when events seemed to be at their most confusing suddenly the final piece came into play and clarified everything. He could only hope that this would not be long delayed, he'd registered Jane's searching glance and at present had to admit that the whole episode seemed as murky at the Thames at flood tide. He also knew that his team was tired and that until the various checks yielded fruit the only game is town was waiting. Calum's last words though had reminded him of one loose thread.

"The tracker Robin planted. I know you said it had gone dead but when and where?"

Erin having been silent for the past few minutes now spoke. "We tracked it to some warehouses. The usual dives where the dubious are paid off. But nothing. Robin had slipped it into the guy's coat which we found on the ground. No sign of him or a struggle. Nothing from facial recognition. I think they found the tracker and made him change coats."

Harry's decision was instant, "We'll let Garside know that one person employed by this crew has been killed, that someone else is missing. Then tell him we'll give him overnight to consider coughing up otherwise we'll turn him out into the street."

Jane hissed, "But if you do that surely you lose a lead?"

Harry hurried to explain, "If he refuses to tell we can't force him, but it's amazing what the prospect of protection will do if you're in danger of being killed. They, whoever they are, won't believe he didn't talk." If anything Jane looked even more horrified, "You'd send him to his death?"

Harry decided to remind her that this was not a theoretical exercise as he replied with grim and definite determination. "If this is the best way to save Catherine yes, I would. In fact we'll be shadowing him so he'll be as safe as anyone ever is who involves themselves in this type of work."

The potential row was averted by the arrival of Laura creeping into the room to be greeted by a snapping Sir Harry, "Yes Laura."

"Sorry Sir but..." Everyone around the table groaned at the customary apology as Laura mumbled, "it's just I forgot that I'd picked up Mrs Townsend's mail." Jane's stare demanded an explanation. "It was just before the CIA turned up, I stuck it in my pocket and forgot. I'm really..."

"Yes, yes Laura we know, you're really sorry." Harry as he said it was deriving some amusement at Erin's expression which smacked of downright disapproval, although whether that was intended as a comment on Laura's entire existence, her forgetfulness, or the her toxic presence on the Grid he couldn't begin to guess. "Well you can make up for this by going with Dimitri and Jane tomorrow to play wing girl on the Reception security detail. I understand that you and Shakespeare are passing acquaintances."

Laura's face was beaming, "Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

"Oh and Laura now you've passed your probation try calling me Harry."

"Yes Sir,... er... Harry." Laura exited as if floating on cloud nine, or would have done had she not tripped over her feet at the doorway and gone crashing onto the corridor floor. Erin face suggested that she'd just been plunged into the umpteenth circle of Dante's vision of Hell at the prospect of Laura being involved in anything featuring Dimitri. Calum, having a fair idea as to what lay behind Laura's new expertise, looked abashed.

"Harry, is that a good idea. I mean..." Erin was about to express her displeasure when Jane who'd been perusing at her post let out a gasp.

Glad of the distraction Harry stared at her and asked testily, "What's wrong now Jane, an extra large gas bill?"

He wished he'd kept his lips sealed as Jane turned a shocked face to him, her eyes huge and frightened as she held out a postcard.

"Harry this card."

"So some lucky devil is on holiday? What of it?"

"No Harry – it's a plain card, postmarked yesterday and...and it's from Catherine.

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