the 7:29 to Guildford, second class. On arrival they were met by Superintendent Wall, the only man from the Surrey Constabulary who’d been fully briefed on what they had planned for the rest of the day.
“You don’t have a driver?” said Lamont, as Wall climbed behind the wheel and switched on the ignition.
“Cutbacks,” he growled.
07:14 GMT
William spotted him the moment he entered the terminal. A dark blue double-breasted blazer, white shirt, and striped tie. The commander probably slept in double-breasted pajamas.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, William. Carter’s booked on BA flight 003 to Rome, departing in an hour and a half, and we’re on an Alitalia plane which takes off in forty minutes. Lieutenant Monti will meet us at the airport before driving to Civitavecchia. We’ll hang about here for a few more minutes to make sure Carter checks in. If he suspects someone might be following him, he could abort his whole trip, in which case we’ll be heading back to Scotland Yard, not Rome.” The commander was still speaking when he grabbed William by the arm and nodded in the direction of the BA desks. Carter was striding toward the check-in counter, accompanied by a man William didn’t recognize, who was carrying a bulky holdall and pushing a trolley with two small suitcases.
“I have a feeling I know what’s in that holdall,” said Hawksby. “But there’s not a lot we can do about it.”
“We could have them searched by security before he boards the plane.”
“That’s the last thing we want.”
“Why?”
“For two reasons,” said Hawksby as Carter was issued with his boarding pass. “First, we’d need to have reasonable suspicion that he’d committed a crime before we could consider checking his luggage, and secondly, if we didn’t find anything suspicious, we would have warned them off and blown our cover.”
“Do you recognize the other man?” asked William as they headed towards passport control.
“Damien Grant, GBH, former weightlifter, and more recently club bouncer. He’s only there to make sure that holdall reaches its destination.”
“Last call for Alitalia, flight number…”
10:07 GMT
Once they had settled in Superintendent Wall’s office, the three police officers checked and double-checked every detail of Operation Blue Period. When Lamont had answered his final question, Wall checked his watch. “Time to go down to the basement car park and brief the troops. It’s the only space we’ve got that’s big enough to accommodate your private army.”
Lamont and Jackie followed the superintendent out of his office and down a flight of well-worn steps into the car park, where a couple of dozen policemen and two policewomen were chatting as they waited to find out why they were there. They fell silent the moment the superintendent appeared.
“Good morning,” he said, tapping his swagger stick against his leg. “We are joined today by two officers from the Met. We are here to assist them with a special operation that will be taking place on our patch. I’ll hand over to DCI Lamont, who will brief you on the details.”
Lamont waited until Jackie had set up an easel and placed an aerial photograph of a large country estate on it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Lamont, “the Met have been preparing this operation for several months, but we have always known that its outcome will depend on the professionalism of the officers on the ground.” He pointed at them. “That’s you!”
Laughter and a smattering of applause broke out.
“We have reason to believe,” continued Wall, “that a well-organized gang of criminals will be raiding this property tonight.” Jackie pointed to the photograph of a large Lutyens mansion surrounded by several acres of parkland.
“The gang’s purpose is to steal a Picasso worth several millions, and be out of harm’s way long before the police arrive. But we’ll be waiting for them. You may ask why we need such a large force for this operation, when there will only be three or possibly four thieves involved. That’s because we know who’s behind this scam, and he’s beaten us once too often in the past. So this time we’re going to cut off his balls before he thinks about doing it again.”
A second, louder round of applause followed.
“For this particular well-planned operation, I can assure you the villains have done their homework,” continued Lamont. “They know the owners are on holiday, and they also know that the nearest police station is twenty minutes away, which they believe will give them more than enough time to vanish into thin air long before the police turn up. My second in command,