“Oh good,” Rita said weakly.
“You do not need to say anything. The charges mean that I can now hold you for up to a week for questioning. More importantly, they mean that Mr. Pierrepoint can’t get his hands on you without first obtaining a bench warrant. Which he will no doubt hasten to do, but because I have both you and the evidence he would need to bring charges of treason and spying against you, we have a few hours’ breathing space in which to prepare my report and get it in front of the right people.”
“Who are…?”
“The people who want to negotiate with your bosses before they do anything stupid, Miss Douglas.”
IRONGATE CENTRAL POLICE STATION, TIME LINE THREE, AUGUST 2020
Meanwhile, ten floors down, the sergeant on the station front desk was having a bad morning.
“Please tell Commander Jackson that Olga Thorold is here to see him,” the woman in the wheelchair repeated firmly. This time she added: “Immediately.”
The sergeant, flustered, stared over her head. “The Commander is very busy—”
“If I don’t see him within the next five minutes he will be even busier, boy!” The cop looked to be only a few years younger than Olga herself, but she was determined not to let him regain authority in this situation. “I’m here on official business of the Department of Para-historical Research. Call the Commander’s office at once. It’s urgent.”
The word “urgent” seemed to galvanize the man: or perhaps it was the way Olga’s attendant shifted his balance. She hated the wheelchair, but it gave her an excuse for bringing a bodyguard into places where bodyguards caused raised eyebrows, such as Police stations and military bases. Jack wasn’t in uniform, but his posture bespoke his background—and the desk sergeant finally made the connection. “Who did you say you were, madam?”
“Olga Thorold, from the Department of Para-historical Research.” A thumb over her shoulder: “He’s with me. Commonwealth Guard, Security Section. Show him your warrant card, Jack.”
Jack flipped a card wallet open and held it before the desk. The sergeant swallowed, then picked up his telephone receiver and dialed, hastily. “Front desk, visitor asking for Commander Jackson’s office? A Missus Thorold … Yes, sir, right away.” He stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. “You’re to go right on up. Sorry ’bout this—nobody said you was expected and you’re not on the list—”
But Jack had already backed up and set Olga’s chair rolling toward the elevator in the corridor beyond the front desk. She clung to the armrests. I hope I’m in time, she told herself. Her office had received the eye-opening transcript of Inspector Morgan’s first day with the suspect late enough that Olga had been asleep when the phone jangled, pulling her straight into crisis mode. The arrest of a world-walker from the United States would have been sufficient to trigger a political earthquake on its own, even without the horrifying questions hanging over the identity of the spy in question. What little hope she had that the intruder was merely a common or garden-variety spy dwindled with every update.
She arrived on the fourth floor to discover the local Force Command Suite in a state of turmoil: majors and inspectors rushing around urgently, stenographers clacking away at their computer terminals and telex machines, a steady stream of messengers coming and going. “Where’s Commander Jackson?” Olga demanded at the door.
“You can’t see him,” the callow young man on reception began. “He’s in a briefing—”
“Aha! Miss Thorold!” The Commander bounced out of a boardroom door and came to rest in front of her, positively vibrating. “Excellent, we’ve been waiting for you!”
“About time,” she muttered under her breath as Jack wheeled her into the conference room. “What do we know, Richard?”
Heads turned as she entered the room: Commander Jackson closed the door behind her and a captain hastily cleared a space at the table for her chair. “Inspector Alice Morgan is with the subject right now, resuming the interview. They’re on the top floor. She’s keeping it low-key and friendly for the time being: the subject has been cooperative so far. The only problem is, there’s obviously been some sort of leak—”
“Who was the recipient?” Olga demanded.
“The General Secretary’s office. Mr. Pierrepoint’s deputy called the interview room on the direct line about an hour ago, demanding we hand the subject over. Whoever blabbed told them exactly what extension to call and who to ask for, so I’m treating it as a hostile security breach and will be hunting the leaker in due course. Inspector Morgan told them to come back with a warrant, but it’s anybody’s guess how long we’ve got—”
Olga cut him off: “They’ve got tame judges. We’ve got to get her out of here right now. You don’t want to get caught up in a fight between the Party Secretariat and the DPR.”
“But a transfer of jurisdiction—”
“Do you agree that this is a matter of national security?” Commander Jackson met her gaze for a second, then nodded abruptly. “The DPR is best placed to handle a debriefing and work out how to respond. If it’s a matter of whatever charges you’re detaining her on, I’m sure we can arrange to settle them or bring her in front of a sheriff’s court in due course. But it would be a really bad idea to let Mr. Pierrepoint take custody of the prisoner in view of the current, uh, political situation.”
“Oh hell.” Jackson rubbed his eyes. “This is about the succession, isn’t it?”
“I hope not, but the timing is a terrible coincidence.” Olga took a deep breath, then another. She was running out of energy again. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her hotel room and sleep for the rest of the day. Her job was demanding enough at the best of times. Having a multiple sclerosis flare-up in the middle of a crisis would put her in the hospital if she didn’t take care of herself. For Lightning Child’s sake, don’t give him any ideas about who the spy is. “What have you got from her so far?”
A woman in the uniform of a Transport Police lieutenant stood up. “I can fetch the latest updated transcript, sir…?”
“Do that.” Jackson’s dismissal was abrupt. “She’s from their Department of Homeland Security and we’re certain she’s a world-walker. They trained her as a spy and kept her in a padded cell so she doesn’t know much about her operational context, but—”
“That makes her our responsibility for sure. Take me up to see her.”
The lieutenant came bustling back, clutching a manila folder of printouts. Jackson took it and passed it to Olga without a word. “Right away.”
In the elevator, alone with the Commander and her attendant, Olga looked at him appreciatively. “You’ve done well, Richard. And so has Inspector Morgan.”
“We only just caught her by the skin of our teeth. We’re not out of the woods yet.”