Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

T HE B RITISH A MBASSADOR WAS DELIGHTED to receive a coded cable to let him know that, because of the King's intervention, Simon Hartley would be released in the next few days. He performed a Highland reel.

He then pressed the little button under his desk and looked up, expecting his secretary to join him. She didn't.

He pressed the button for a second time, but still no response. He left his finger on the button a little longer the third time, and when she didn't appear he began to wonder if there was a problem.

Sir Bernard got up from behind his desk, walked across the room, and opened the door that led to Sally's domain. He stood in the doorway and stared at a woman who rarely showed any emotion. Sally was sitting at her desk, head in hands, weeping.

He quickly joined her and placed an arm around her shoulder, something he'd never done before. She didn't say a word, just looked up and handed him a letter.

Dear Ambasador,

I'm sorry to burden you with this letter, but I've just been told by the Governor about the tragic death of Avril Dubois. There seem to be no lengths Khalil will not go to in order to ensure the French are awarded the arms contract, and he gets his extra five per cent.

So now I must be realistic about my own future and accept that while Avril can no longer give evidence to show that it was not me who was responsible for Paolo Conti's death but Prince Ahmed, I have no hope of being found not guilty, and therefore at best will have to spend the rest of my life in this hellhole, although it seems more likely I will suffer the same fate as my cellmate Sean O'Driscoll. Not something I'm willing to endure. With this in mind, I hope you will understand why I have decided to take my own life as, to quote Shakespeare's Richard II: ‘For now they kill me with a living death.' I confess it's the coward's way out, but still preferable to any other alternative.

I wonder if I might call on you to do me a kindness by telling my beloved wife, Heather, and our two daughters that my final thoughts were of them, and I can only hope they will understand why I have made this decision, and find it in their hearts to forgive me.

I remain, yours sincerely,

Simon Hartley

A smile appeared on the Ambassador's face.

‘No need for tears,' he said after he'd read the letter a second time. Sir Bernard handed the letter back to her with the words, ‘See if you can spot the three mistakes.'

Sally read the letter once again, smiled, wiped away the tears and said, ‘Four.'

Sir Bernard began to read the message for a third time. ‘His wife is called Hannah, not Heather, he has two sons, but no daughters, and he misspelt "Ambassador", so what else have I missed?'

‘Shakespeare's quote is from Richard III, not Richard II.'

The Ambassador bowed low and said, ‘ Chapeau . I'll have to call London and advise them. Wheels within wheels,' he explained. ‘But we'll have to move quickly, before the Governor works out the significance of the words "I remain".'

···

The Ambassador's limousine, flags at half-mast on the bumpers, came to a halt outside the prison ten minutes before the appointed hour. The Foreign Office were not in the habit of being late or early for any occasion but were always on time. Ten minutes to ten was the appropriate time to attend a funeral. Sir Bernard got out of the car and stood behind a hearse, leaving his secretary sitting in the back of the car, head bowed, quietly weeping.

The Ambassador was dressed for the occasion. A dark double-breasted suit, a black tie, and a black armband on his left sleeve. He stood alone beside the waiting hearse, as the sole representative of the British government.

Without warning, the vast wooden gates blocking the bleak edifice swung slowly open to reveal six prison guards marching towards him, carrying a coffin on their shoulders. The Governor, head bowed, walked a few paces behind. The solemn cortège came to a halt at the back of the hearse. They lowered the coffin slowly from their shoulders, before easing it into the back of the waiting limousine. Having completed their task, the six men turned and marched back into the prison at a slightly faster pace.

The Governor tentatively approached the Ambassador and held out his hand. Sir Bernard would have avoided returning the compliment with this loathsome individual, but he needed to keep up the pretence for a couple more hours.

‘I cannot express how sad we all are,' said the Governor, ‘that Hartley felt it necessary to take his own life.'

‘I agree,' replied the Ambassador, ‘especially as a court order granting his release had just been sanctioned, and he would have been a free man within days.'

‘If only I'd known earlier,' said the Governor, ‘I feel sure I could have prevented the tragedy.'

Sir Bernard wondered when the Governor would find out the truth. He walked slowly back to his car, while his secretary slipped out of the other side and made her way across to the hearse. She was carrying a wreath of red roses, which she placed on top of the coffin.

Once the rear door had been closed behind her, she pulled a Swiss penknife out of her bulky handbag. Like the good Girl Guide she had once been, Sally extracted a sharp knife and began to scrape away at the join between the lid of the coffin and its base. When a small gap appeared, she replaced the knife with a screwdriver, which she wedged into the gap and, with all the strength she possessed, slowly levered up the lid until there was a large enough space to allow some oxygen to flow in through the gap. When Sally heard heavy breathing, she wanted to let out a yelp of delight, but satisfied herself with looking out of the back window.

‘What I'm at pains to understand,' said the Ambassador, playing for time, ‘is how it was possible for my countryman to get hold of the poison in the first place.'

‘That puzzled me too,' said the Governor. ‘I feel guilty about the fact I wasn't on duty last night, but I will be setting up an inquiry to find out who was responsible, and you can be assured when I find out who it was they will be suitably punished.'

The Ambassador glanced towards the hearse, to receive a nod from his secretary. He immediately got into the back of his car, avoiding having to shake hands with the man a second time. He was putting on his seat belt when the hearse set off at a funereal pace. But once they had turned the corner, they accelerated, to become the fastest hearse in history. They began to overtake startled drivers and bemused onlookers – but then they had a deadline to keep to.

The Governor waited until they were out of sight before he made his way back into the prison. He'd already decided that the inquiry would show he had been at home last night and had immediately sacked the officer on duty. However, he would add that he felt he'd been left with no choice but to resign, without mentioning the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars that were still locked in his desk, or that he only had one more year to serve before retiring.

But he still had one last duty to carry out that would ensure none of the blame could be laid at his door. As he passed reception on the way back to his office, he barked at a passing prison guard, ‘Fetch O'Driscoll and bring him to my office immediately.'

The guard scuttled off.

The Governor had already prepared a statement for O'Driscoll to sign that would show he was in no way involved. He would promise O'Driscoll that if he signed the confession, another fifty thousand and the money would be transferred to his wife's account in Dublin immediately. Not that O'Driscoll would live long enough to find out one way or the other.

···

‘Did you check the flight was on time?' asked the Ambassador as his driver continued to pursue the hearse down the outside lane.

‘Yes, sir. I've already briefed the officer in charge of flight control to let him know we're on our way.'

‘And Sally?' asked the Ambassador.

‘She's clinging onto the coffin handles for dear life. The wreath has gone AWOL, but I can see the coffin lid is slightly raised.'

Sir Bernard let out a sigh of relief, but knew he wouldn't relax until the plane had taken off.

···

There was a sharp knock on the Governor's door and a senior prison officer charged in unannounced.

‘You'd better come quickly, sir,' was all he said before rushing back out.

The Governor knew from the expression on the officer's face that it had to be a riot or a suspicious death. He quickly left his office, ran after him, and didn't stop running until he reached Block A, where he noticed all the doors were locked, except one.

He entered O'Driscoll's cell to see the prison doctor leaning over his patient.

The doctor answered the Governor's question before he could ask it. ‘He's been dead for about an hour.'

‘Cause of death?' stammered the Governor.

‘Poisoning,' said the doctor. ‘The bitter smell of almond rather suggests cyanide. However, I'll know much more after I've carried out a full analysis, I'll have a report on your desk later today.' He paused while he looked up at the Governor. ‘What I can't understand is how it was possible for O'Driscoll to get hold of cyanide, when there is none in my pharmacy.'

The Governor wasn't taking in the doctor's words, as his mind was already at the airport.

···

The limousine shot off the motorway and headed for a gate reserved for VIPs and special assignments. The Ambassador's cortège fell neatly into both categories. As the hearse approached the entrance, it once again slowed back down to a funereal pace, not wishing to attract any unnecessary attention. It proceeded slowly into the airport and drove across the tarmac to a waiting plane on the far side of the runway.

Hani Khalil stared down at the two cars from the observation deck on the fourth floor. He watched as the hearse came to a halt at the back of an aircraft, which had its cargo door lowered in preparation for the sad occasion. He even wore a black armband on the left sleeve of his suit.

Six coffin-bearers, who carried out this exercise fairly regularly, stepped forward as the driver opened the back door of the hearse, to find Sally, head bowed, weeping. They assumed she had to be the widow accompanying her dead husband.

The six men eased the coffin out of its resting place and in one well-practised movement lifted it up onto their shoulders. They then slow-marched in step towards the open door. They proceeded with dignity up the wide ramp and disappeared into the hold, closely followed by the Ambassador and Sally, who continued to play their role in the fiction.

Khalil was unable to see what was going on inside the hold, but only had to wait a few moments before the six coffin-bearers reappeared and made their way back into the airport, at the same slow respectful pace, having completed their task.

Khalil's eyes never left the gaping hole as he waited for the Ambassador to reappear. When he eventually did, the Lebanese agent was surprised to see that Sir Bernard Anscombe was accompanied by a man in a British Airways uniform. Khalil assumed he must have been waiting for them on board.

Sally did not join them, but quickly returned to the car. Khalil was puzzled why she'd even gone into the hold in the first place, but he was now concentrating on the tall thin man, who had an unkempt beard and whose jacket was a little too large and hung on him like a coathanger. The Ambassador accompanied him to the steps of the plane, where the two men shook hands. Both Sir Bernard and Khalil watched him as he climbed the steps and disappeared inside the aircraft.

Once the cabin door had closed, the Ambassador walked back to his car, where he joined his secretary. She opened her bulky handbag, and Sir Bernard stared down at the fifty thousand dollars in cash that she had removed from the coffin.

‘My bonus?' asked Sally hopefully.

‘No such luck, Sally,' said the Ambassador smiling. ‘Simon explained that the money belongs to Sean's wife, so I want you to deposit the cash in the Embassy account and ask them to transfer the full amount to a Mrs Sean O'Driscoll at the Bank of Ireland in Dublin. I'll have to call her later today, and try and put a gloss on it, but it won't be easy.'

The Ambassador sat back and watched as the plane left its stand and began to taxi towards the far runway, before taking its place in a long queue waiting for take-off.

Khalil was surprised that the Ambassador's car remained by the runway. What was he waiting for?

Then, just as British Airways flight 017 reached the head of the queue and was waiting for the tower to allow take-off, another car came speeding through the VIP gate, lights flashing, siren blaring, and didn't slow down as it headed towards the waiting aircraft.

The Governor had already called ahead to warn air traffic control that an escaped prisoner was on board and to order them to instruct the pilot to return to his stand and await further instructions. He jumped out of his car, assuming his orders would have been obeyed without question and the plane would return to its stand.

He watched in disbelief as the aircraft continued to move, first slowly and then more quickly as it accelerated along the runway, before finally taking off.

He stared up at the plane as it rose in the sky, unable to understand why his clear orders had been ignored. Who would have the nerve to countermand them?

Khalil also watched the plane take off, and two things puzzled him. Why had the Governor turned up at the last minute, only to watch the plane as it disappeared above the clouds? But, even more puzzling, who was the man dressed in a British Airways uniform that didn't fit?

The Ambassador's car didn't move until he'd seen the plane disappear, when he relaxed for the first time. He picked up the phone in his armrest and dialled the Foreign Office in London.

‘He's on his way.'

‘God save the Queen,' said Trevelyan.

‘God save the King,' said the Ambassador.