A Frequent Peal of Bells Page 6

  “I’m not ready for my pipe and slippers yet,” replied Phoenix. “I vote for Hampshire, where they butchered that family.”

  “If I decide it’s the right move, then that’s settled,” said Athena, “let’s move on.”

  “Has everyone heard the Home Secretary’s statement?” asked Minos.

  “Phoenix and Rusty returned too late to catch it,” said Artemis, “why don’t you read it out to us, Minos?”

  “Here goes,” said Minos, “but I’m not sure I can match the earnest expression on her face when she delivered it. ‘The full impact of these terrible incidents has yet to be assessed. I know the whole country’s thoughts will be with the families of those who died. The emergency services responded in their usual quick and professional manner, for which we are eternally grateful. I was briefed by the police and the security services earlier this evening. The government will continue to be updated on what is considered an ongoing incident. Top priority is the security of our people and I urge everyone to keep calm. If you have information on who carried out these attacks, please report it to the police. We shall work together to defeat those who threaten the rule of law’. The families of the victims of the men killed might raise an eyebrow at the government’s concern for their families. The world’s a better place without them in it. Even if other killers sent them on their way.”

  “You could have written that Minos,” said Giles, “textbook stuff from Whitehall. Patting ourselves on the back for the excellence of our services, appealing for unity, but never initiating direct actions.”

  “It would make people sit up if she came on and said help us find these murdering bastards, so we can kill the lot,” said Phoenix.

  “Her statement won’t put the fear of God into the Grid,” said Rusty.

  “The Grid will keep calm, and carry on,” said Henry.

  *****

  “A good result yesterday, well done,” said Colleen O’Riordan.

  “It achieved what we expected,” said Tyrone, “with fewer killings than I thought it might take. I followed up on the message the attacks sent with a suggestion the gangs joined the Grid within twenty-four hours or suffer the consequences. Each of the eight had agreed by midnight. Whoever was next in line to take over knew the score.”

  “The increased income will be useful to the cause,” said Colleen.

  “I’m estimating the numbers now. I’ll send you a projected balance sheet later.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Colleen, “I don't understand it; just give me the bottom line. The bigger the number the better.”

  “I received good news and bad news last night,” said Tyrone. “My request for news or photos turned up something on the organisation cramping our style of late. Reassuring, to get a bite inside two days. I told you there was something.”

  “You still believe in this secret organisation then?” said Colleen. “Go on then, what did you hear?”

  “Two Japanese tourists got mugged near Abbey Road last night by a moped gang. The couple spent the night in the hospital. A dark van injured four of the gang and wrote off their scooters. Two men in pig masks grabbed the guys who did it and took them away.”

  “So, this van is the only link to this outfit? It could have been an accident. The driver may have been distracted by the muggers.”

  “A young guy photographed the men, and the van, in West Hampstead. He rang to say they left the muggers on the steps of the police station.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t the A-team? That was what they did,” laughed Colleen.

  “Before my time, Mum,” said Tyrone. “We can’t see their faces because of the masks, but it confirms their existence. We can piece together the clues. The word’s out on the streets, every sighting, every memory that photo triggers will get us closer to discovering who they are, and where they’re based. Have faith mother, I know they exist. I’ll prove it to you in time.”

  “What was the bad news?” asked Colleen.

  “That moped gang was a set-up. Frank Rooney told me he had someone expendable. The gang had made a nuisance of themselves for weeks. That put them on this organisation’s radar. We inserted two new faces. They all look the same when they wear those helmets. The ferocity of the attack worked perfectly. There was no way they would ignore that. The idea was to get these two riders taken to their base. I never anticipated them being handed over to the police. It appears these guys have a social conscience. So, it’s back to square one on the Trojan Horse scheme. It might need a more scientific approach.”

  “If they have a conscience it means they are weak. Much easier for us to deal with the problem. Sometimes you think too much,” said Colleen. “Keep it simple, as you did yesterday.”

  Monday, 6th October 2014

  Geoffrey Fox buttered a slice of toast when the phone rang. He stopped and took a sip of his cup of coffee before he answered.

  “Hello?” he asked.

  “Good morning, am I speaking with Mr Geoffrey Fox?”

  It was the voice of a young lady.

  “It is,” he replied, “how may I help you?”

  “You honoured us by placing your house in Vincent Gardens, Belgravia with our agency. I’m calling to inform you we have received an offer. It represents the full asking price of four million, seven hundred and fifty pounds.”

  “Happy days,” said Geoffrey.

  “Indeed, Mr Fox. We’ll advise your solicitor this morning, and the sales process will proceed in its own sweet way. These things have a mind of their own, don’t they? We don’t anticipate any undue delay. The Qatari buyer is well-known to us. He has bought a whole raft of properties in Central London. This is one of his cheapest acquisitions. It will probably be occupied by his security staff while he stays in London.”

  “How the other half lives,” said Geoffrey, eager to get back to his coffee and toast.

  When the call ended Geoffrey salvaged his breakfast by toasting more bread and boiling the kettle for a fresh cup. Grace would have berated him for lazing around half the morning. He wanted to run along the corridor to tell his daughter the news, but he knew she was tied up in meetings.

  After he had washed up his breakfast things Geoffrey dropped in on Maria Elena and his granddaughter.

  “What are you two up to?” he asked.

  “It’s quiet, today,” said the nanny.

  “I’ve had good news. My house in London has sold. I need to look for a place near the coast. I wonder if my daughter wants to go for a drive later today, to see what’s on the market?”

  “Easier to Google it,” said Maria Elena.

  “Ah, well I’m no expert, my dear,” laughed Geoffrey.

  While Hope played on the carpet in front of them, Geoffrey and his new friend searched for Burnham-on-Sea bungalows on her iPhone.

  Within thirty minutes, Geoffrey had three properties on his list. Prices ranged between four hundred and six hundred thousand pounds. All he needed now was his daughter, or Phoenix to drive him to the coast to take a closer look.

  “What time will they return from the meeting?” Geoffrey asked.

  “I make us lunch for half-past twelve,” said Maria Elena.

  “I’ll ask her then,” he said, “catch you later.”

  Hope gave her granddad a little wave as he left them to return to his apartment. Perhaps Mummy would take her with them this afternoon. A trip to the seaside was special.

  In the meeting room, Athena and her senior agents discussed the weekend’s events. Giles and Artemis reported zero activity from the Grid.

  “They are still involved in their usual villainy, but inter-gang rivalries are laid to rest,” said Giles.

  “Before the bodies of their victims,” said Rusty, “that’s insensitive.”

  “The government hasn’t announced any new initiatives in the past forty-eight hours,” said Artemis. “The police are still carrying out fingertip searches at the scene of every murder. Arrests don’t look imminent.”

  “We will ha
ve two-thirds of the names confirmed by Tuesday evening, Athena,” said Giles.

  “You always were several steps ahead of the police, Giles,” said Athena.

  “Makes you wonder how he got a job here if that’s true,” said Phoenix.

  “I never got caught, so my record was clean Phoenix,” said Giles, with a smile. The relatively quiet weekend had allowed him to spend quality time with his fiancée. That always helped put a smile on his face.

  “Has anyone spoken with Hugh Fraser since his return?” asked Athena.

  “Fraser attended both funerals as planned,” said Henry. “I believe Ambrosia accompanied him in Rugeley.”

  “Zeus or Hera must have sanctioned that,” said Phoenix. “Ambrosia has been working hard.”

  “What’s next for our Irregulars?” asked Artemis.

  “As we find accommodation, we add more people to those areas that could be terrorist targets,” said Henry. “At present, we’re building on what we learned from Edinburgh and Birmingham. It will be the New Year before we can get sufficient ex-servicemen approved by myself and Hugh stationed across the country. We can then add the Grid to the list of things they’re watching. We were quick off the mark at New Street, but not fully prepared. Two people died because of that.”

  “Understood, Henry,” said Athena, “the Irregulars are like the retrained agents and the new intakes. It’s a slow process, but the more people we have in the field the better chance we have of competing against the forces that threaten the nation. Many thanks, everyone, we’ll break for today.”

  The others returned to their posts or planned their afternoons. As Phoenix and Athena walked along the corridor to their apartment, they bumped into her father.

  “Daddy, will you have lunch with us, today?” asked Athena.

  “I was invited by Maria Elena,” Geoffrey replied. “I’m hoping to persuade you to go for a drive this afternoon.”

  “I hoped to catch up with Hugh Fraser after lunch,” said Athena, “but once that’s over, I suppose we could go somewhere. Where were you thinking?”

  “The house has been snapped up by a Qatari billionaire. Maria Elena and I found three possible bungalows in Burnham-on-Sea on the internet. The sooner you and I look them over, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “That was quick,” said Phoenix, “don’t rush off on our account, Geoffrey. We don’t mind having you around the place, and Hope loves being spoiled.”

  As they entered the living room, Maria Elena was singing in the kitchen. Lunch was being prepared. Hope knelt on a chair by the window and grubby finger marks smeared the glass. She scrambled to the floor, but it was too late. Hope knew she was in trouble.

  “Well, young lady,” said Phoenix. “Maria Elena will need to take you into the kitchen with her in the future. You’re too adventurous to be left alone for a second.”

  “At ten months you were a handful, Annabelle,” said Geoffrey.

  He picked up Hope and carried her through to the kitchen.

  “We need to wash our hands before lunch, Maria Elena,” he said, sitting Hope on the worktop next to the sink.

  Hope gave a big sigh. You know I’m not allowed up here Grandad, she thought, there might be sharp things. I’m in enough trouble, I’ll never get strapped into the car seat this afternoon now.

  Geoffrey wiped her hands clean and dried them with a cloth.

  “There we are. Just the windows to clean now.”

  Maria Elena had carried the food through to the living room to Phoenix and Athena. She left them to decide what drinks they needed but gave Hope the usual cup of her favourite orange drink.

  “Will you need me again today?” she asked.

  “No, that’s fine,” said Phoenix, “we’ll look after her until the morning. We’ll see you at the usual time.”

  After the nanny had left, Athena was keen to go through the details of the house sale, and the imminent house search.

  “We’ll all go,” said Phoenix, “it will be great to get away for a while. What about Fraser? Did you want to ring him and schedule a time? I want to be there. It might help us understand what’s going on with Ambrosia. I hate turning up to Olympus meetings unprepared.”

  “Good idea, I’ll call him now. We should be home by this evening. I’ll arrange to meet at seven-thirty.”

  “There’s never a thing on TV at that time is there?” said Phoenix, “Hope will be asleep from the effects of the travel and the sea air.”

  Athena went into the kitchen to make the call. She rejoined them two minutes later, nodding to Phoenix that the meeting was settled. Geoffrey had fetched a jacket, despite the warm weather.

  “You won’t need that in the car, Daddy,” she said.

  “We never got sea breezes in Belgravia, darling,” he replied, “I’m getting on in years. I feel the cold more than you youngsters. Rain’s forecast, anyway.”

  Phoenix put a cardigan on his daughter, which made her happy. She felt dressed up, the same as her Grandad. Phoenix drove them to Burnham. Geoffrey sat in the front with him, and Athena sat alongside Hope in the back.

  “Before you ask, we don’t need any music, Phoenix,” said Athena.

  He shrugged. His favourite Judas Priest album was still in the last van he’d driven.

  “We’ll sing a song,” said Geoffrey, “does everyone know the words to ‘Wheels on the Bus’?”

  Phoenix groaned.

  Hope had fallen asleep by the time they passed Chew Magna. Peace reigned once more. They soon arrived in the seaside town and hunted for the properties in which Geoffrey was interested. Maria Elena had printed off the details of what lay inside the four walls. Geoffrey was keen to see the location for himself, and how it fitted the tranquil setting he sought.

  Phoenix had hardly come to a halt at the first bungalow before Geoffrey said he’d seen enough. It was too near a road, and the view was restricted.

  “Typical estate agent,” he muttered, “economical with the truth. This description should read, forty per cent of the vista is obscured by two oak trees.

  Phoenix drove them to the next address. Maria Elena had provided excellent directions.

  “This is better,” said Geoffrey, “we might ask to view this one later in the week.”

  As they approached the final bungalow, Hope cried out. She was excited.

  “Do you like this one, Hope?” asked Geoffrey, “yes, it’s idyllic isn’t it? You have good taste, the same as your grandmother. Good, but expensive. This is the dearest of the three I chose, at five hundred and ninety-five thousand pounds.”

  “You can get a few improvements done, and still clear four million,” said Phoenix, as they walked to the gateway. Athena was fetching Hope from the car.

  “Money isn’t everything, old chap. I’d sooner have Grace here to share this place.”

  “I know, Geoffrey, what do you reckon then, a shortlist of two?”

  “No, Hope’s reaction when she saw this place is good enough for me. We’ll drive into town, find the estate agents and make an offer. Everything I’ve seen online of the interior is fine, and the place is in good decorative order. I won’t need to do a thing.”

  “It looks super,” said Athena, as she joined them.

  “This is the one, darling,” said her father, “I’ve decided. Let’s get the offer in pronto, I don’t want to risk losing it.”

  An hour later they were walking along the front at Burnham as the rain clouds gathered. It was a race against time. Could they reach the ice-cream kiosk before they got soaked to the skin?

  “That was fun,” said Geoffrey, as they got back to the car. The sky was as dark as night. The rain beat a tattoo on the car roof. Hope still had a smile on her face as she polished off the tub of ice cream her mother fed her.

  “Typical English weather,” said Phoenix, “four seasons in one day.”

  “Only when you visit the seaside, Phoenix,” said Geoffrey.

  “Two of you got what you came for,” said Athena
, “you got your bungalow, and Hope’s eaten her ice-cream.”

  “Ninety-nine per cent of which went in her mouth,” said Phoenix. “Thanks to you feeding her with that wooden spoon. Sharron had ice-cream everywhere when we went on holiday on the South coast. Over her face, on her dress, and in her hair.”

  “You’ve never mentioned that before,” said Athena.

  “We couldn’t afford to go away often,” said Phoenix, “my memories are few but precious.”

  Geoffrey said nothing. There were things in Phoenix’s past he wasn’t a party to, this was one. His daughter would tell him who Sharron was in time if it was appropriate.

  “Time to head for home?” he asked Phoenix.

  “Home for you, for now,” replied Phoenix, “we’ll move your furniture from London before you know it. You and Hope have made a good choice. It’s a great location.”

  Hope agreed with her father. The bungalow was perfect. Her grandfather had a panoramic view of the sea from the back of the property. The cliffs made it impossible for anyone to approach from that direction. He’d spot anyone well before they reached the gateway, whether in a car or on foot. Oh, and the ice-cream was lush.

  Phoenix decided the rainy finish to the afternoon wasn’t spoiling his rare trip out. He took the A38 back to Bath, stopping in Paulton for a great pub meal. It was half-past six when they got home. He looked at the faces of his passengers. Athena and Geoffrey were half asleep. Neither was used to alcohol in the late afternoon. Hope’s head was on her chest; she was snoring. The sea air and the children’s meal had done the trick as he predicted.

  A rapid crossing of the cattle grid in the gateway made the grown-ups wake with a start.

  “Home, sweet home,” he said, “we can put Hope to bed in plenty of time to meet Hugh Fraser at half-past seven.”

  “Many thanks for today, Phoenix,” said Geoffrey. “It won’t be easy, but I’m starting the next chapter of my life. With you three coming along for the ride I’ll be fine.

  “I’m sure you will, Geoffrey,” said Phoenix. “We’re only an hour away if you need us, and Hope can’t resist a trip to the seaside.”