Royal Heist Part 23

"Yes. I'll fly out this afternoon."

As soon as Dulay was in his car, de Jersey called Wilc.o.x. He wanted to check out Dulay and, more important, his buyer, so he needed Wilc.o.x to tail him from the London hotel to Paris.

"You've never met Dulay, have you?"

"Tony did once, but I never have. What time have I got to be there?"

"Go straight to the airport and wait."

Wilc.o.x sighed. "I've only just got in from Leicester, Eddy."

"So, make a trip of it. Take your woman."

De Jersey took the warehouse for a year and paid six months' rent in advance in the name of Philip Simmons. Also through the agents, he gained, with some financial persuasion, access to the drawings of the D'Ancona building. For security reasons, no single party ever held a complete layout of a safe house, so all he found out was the size of the building, the rear door area, and small backyard. The drawings showed that the building had four floors and a bas.e.m.e.nt. He could not discover anything about the work inside, though four years previously the owners had been granted planning permission by the council for the installation of undisclosed security measures. D'Ancona had covered their tracks; any attempt to find out details of these "undisclosed security measures" would alert the company to a possible problem. De Jersey had to find another way of gaining an interior plan of the safe house.

Driving through Aldgate into the East End, he called Driscoll and told him to monitor the D'Ancona safe house. He had spied the perfect observation post. The warehouse had a flat roof, and from there Driscoll could watch the safe house without being seen.

"I got a lot going on right now," Driscoll said, sounding tired.

"And I haven't?" snapped de Jersey.

"Why can't Jimmy do it?"

"He's tailing Dulay, who's meeting up with our buyer. I just want to make sure he's on the level."

"The buyer or Dulay?"

"Both."

"So I got to schlep over to this warehouse now? The wife is gonna have a fit."

De Jersey was impatient to get on. He told Driscoll where he would find the keys to the warehouse and hung up.

When he got home de Jersey was unprepared for Christina's concern. She had contacted the horse breeders in Ireland, only to hear they were not expecting him. Her concern quickly turned to anger, though. Every time she had tried his cell phone, it was turned off. It was irresponsible to go off without leaving a contact number. She told him that her mother was ill and she had to leave for Sweden.

"You should have just gone, darling," he said.

"You should have called home."

"I didn't think."

"No, you didn't. I want to know why you lied about going to Dublin."

"I didn't."

"Freddy said you weren't even expected."

"I wasn't with him."

"I don't understand."

"I don't buy all my horses from Freddy. Sometimes I want it kept under wraps exactly what I'm thinking of buying. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"You've always got such good excuses for disappearing." She sighed. "I've been so worried about my mother. You've not been fair." Christina hesitated to voice her suspicions, but she couldn't help blurting out, "Are you seeing someone?"

De Jersey was genuinely shocked that she could even consider it a possibility. "Of course not! No woman could ever-"

"Well, why have you been taking so many clothes from your wardrobe then? You take them each trip and they never come back. I checked because I wondered if anything needed to go to the cleaners. Two suits are missing and several shirts." She folded her arms.

De Jersey had left the clothes at his Kilburn flat but came up with an excuse fast. "I gave them to a couple of the trainers. Ask them if you want proof, but this is so unlike you, Christina. I've never given you any reason to think I might be having an affair."

She burst into tears. He held her close. "Get your things packed. We'll put you on the first plane out to see your family. There's not another woman in the world I would so much as look at."

He arranged for his pilot to fly her to the airport. He knew he must take greater precautions from now on, especially since he would need to spend more time away from the estate. It was already early February, and if they were to go ahead on the second of May, they had to work fast.

Wilc.o.x called from Paris just after four o'clock. He and Rika had caught the same plane as Dulay and had followed him to the Ritz.

"I had to book in, Eddy, just for a night. Anyway, it got Rika out of my hair. Dulay didn't check in. He went straight to the desk. They handed him the house phone, he spoke briefly, then went into the coffee bar. About ten minutes later this huge guy appeared. Looked like Odd Job man in the James Bond movie. He had a few words with Dulay, then they went out to the foyer." Wilc.o.x explained how he had followed Dulay out of the hotel, where he had had a conversation inside a parked Mercedes with another man, presumably their buyer.

"He's tall for a j.a.p," Wilc.o.x said. "'Bout five eleven, well built, snappy dresser. Odd Job was hovering around, so he's got to be the bodyguard."

"Jimmy, did you get his address? Who the f.u.c.k is this guy?"

"I got it from the porter. He's a regular guest. Comes over five or six times a year. He's a computer giant. His company's worth billions, and he's based in Tokyo. His name is Mr. Kitamo-"

"That's all I need to know right now."

"That's what we should have put our money into, computer software."

"Well, we didn't! Talk to you later-"

"He'll probably have a Web site-"

"Jimmy, get off the phone."

"Try searching the Web for Kitamo triple K computer software and-"

"Jimmy, go screw your girlfriend!" de Jersey snapped, ending the call.

De Jersey spent the rest of the day with his jockeys, trainers, and managers. The cost of the heist so far was straining his resources. It would be paid back by the Moreno sale, but that was still not liquid. He gave instructions for two more horses to be sold, which hurt him and perplexed the managers and trainers. Looking over the accounts later, he saw that even with the sale of another eight racehorses and two brood mares, he could not keep the estate going for more than four months. It was imperative that he pull off the heist.

That afternoon Fleming took Royal Flush out on the gallops for de Jersey to watch. He was in stunning form. However, that night de Jersey couldn't sleep. He was overtired, with a head full of plans. He went to his study for some brandy. Eventually he walked outside.

It was a clear, cold night, and his breath steamed. He was jolted out of his dark reverie by Fleming, who was hunched in his overcoat.

"Can't sleep?"

De Jersey shook his head.

"Me neither," Fleming said.

They walked in silence for a while, then stood against the fence that surrounded the grazing paddock.

"You have problems, haven't you?"

De Jersey nodded.

"It's obvious with the pick of your crop being sold off. It's breaking my heart."

"Mine too, but I'm in a deep hole." He paused. "I have a friend in Ireland, Michael Shaughnessy, not a big breeder but a good man."

"I don't think I know him," said Fleming.

"He keeps a low profile," de Jersey said. He wondered how Fleming would react to what he was about to propose. He guessed that he'd have to make it worth his while with cash. It usually came down to that.

When he quietly suggested to the trainer what he had in mind, Fleming was so shocked he could hardly speak.

"We'd get a nice kickback-in fact, a blinding one. She's the best filly I've ever had."

"Sweet Jesus! He's the best too. You know what this could do, sir. Illegally covering a mare is a terrible risk to take."

"We keep him separated directly afterward, then push his training up."

"It could be disastrous."

De Jersey kicked at the ground. "You're right, forget it."

But Fleming put his hand on de Jersey's arm. "We'll need three of us. My son'll help, but we have to keep this quiet. We'll do it at night, when the yard's silent. If it ever got out . . ."

De Jersey put his arm round Fleming's shoulders. "Well, we hope something will come out, and I guarantee Shaughnessy will most definitely want something out of it."

It was almost one in the morning. The two men talked for another half hour, then shook hands. Fleming would receive ten thousand in cash, but the mare had to be in foal or there was no deal. They would ship the filly out to Dublin for Shaughnessy to collect and stable, de Jersey said. No one would know. They shook hands a second time. Both men knew that what they were doing might spoil the chances of the greatest horse de Jersey had ever possessed. They returned to their beds, depressed.

Driscoll and Wilc.o.x were now taking turns monitoring the safe house. Wilc.o.x found it tedious, irritating work, but Driscoll didn't mind; it gave him something other than the escalating wedding costs to think about.

When Wilc.o.x was not on surveillance he had been scouting out other locations for the vehicles to be parked. They would not be placed in the Aldersgate warehouse until the day before the heist. He eventually found a disused barn in the Surrey countryside. This was also where the team would gather to complete preparations for the raid.

Wilc.o.x had discovered various costumiers around the country where he could hire authentic police-motorcyclist uniforms. He would pretend to be employed by a film company when he needed them. He had also acquired two motorbikes, which he was respraying to match the Metropolitan Police ones. Driscoll was a.s.signed to find two shotguns and several small handguns. As he had a personal a.r.s.enal, he decided he'd remove the numbers from some of his own licensed guns so they could not be traced back to him.

Raymond Marsh arrived at the Scotland Yard telephone exchange at eight forty-five, as he had every morning that week. He had arranged to do the regular maintenance check on the exchange's telephone lines. He would spend the next two weeks there, checking the main systems, and return at regular intervals to do spot checks. Scotland Yard's telephone exchange handled the lines for the Yard exclusively. Marsh had been provided with the pa.s.sword, security code, and an electronic card to allow him access to all areas of the building.

The bas.e.m.e.nt held the batteries and the equipment, the middle floor housed the computer systems, and the administration was on the top floor. The day after his last meeting with de Jersey, Marsh had gained access to the master computer and had quickly located the twenty-four lines responsible for all incoming and outgoing calls to Royalty and Diplomatic Protection. Today would be the first opportunity for him to set up a tail on these lines; all calls made and received by the department would be logged, with incoming and outgoing numbers.

Once he had set up the tail, Marsh began to monitor and record the calls. If he was caught he would be fired, or worse. By the start of his second week at the exchange, Marsh had worked out who was responsible for liaising with the Palace and confirming that security measures were in place.

When de Jersey received an e-mail from Marsh informing him of his progress, he had an adrenaline rush. They were a step closer to executing the robbery, and it was time for his second meeting with Lord Westbrook. His lordship answered the phone and gave an audible sigh of relief. "Thank G.o.d. I was beginning to think you'd got cold feet."

"You received payment, though, didn't you?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"We need to meet. Do you know Shepperton?"

"Yes."

"Go to Church Square. There's a bench in front of a small waterfront mooring. We'll meet there, then go to the pub for lunch."

"Fine. When?"

"Tomorrow, midday."

When de Jersey called, Wilc.o.x was in bed with a bad cold. "I've got something I need checked out."

"I'm sick."

De Jersey continued as if he hadn't heard him. "I want you to check out an address in Esher, but don't approach the property, just monitor who's coming and going. Mark it out, front and back, and ascertain if only the woman and her husband are living there. Then report back to me."

"You want it done tonight, then?"

"Yes." He gave the address.

"I've got a terrible cold. I'm in bed."

"Then wrap up," de Jersey snapped. Both Driscoll and Wilc.o.x worried him, but he said no more and hung up. Then he went over his meticulous lists, ticking off each item he had dealt with. They still had no lady-in-waiting.

Wilc.o.x was freezing. Number 23 was a neat house with a large pond in the front garden. A garage stood to one side with a clean red Toyota parked on the pink-and-white-squared drive. Wilc.o.x walked past on the far side of the road first, making it look as if he was searching for a specific address. As he crossed the road to make his way back, the door opened at 23. A bald man was wrapping a scarf around his neck, shrugging on a camel coat, his car keys in his hand. Then a small woman, wearing a blue coat and a woolen hat, came out.

"Eric, did you lock the back door?" she called.

"Yes."

She shut the front door and headed for the pa.s.senger door of the Toyota, which her husband held open for her. "I don't want to stay too long," she said. As she got into the car, her face was lit clearly by the streetlights. Wilc.o.x's jaw dropped, but he did not stop.

Eric started the engine, and they drove out past him. The woman was talking, looking ahead. He could hardly believe it; she was the Queen's exact double.

Now, with the occupants gone, Wilc.o.x was able to have a good look round. He headed up the path and rang the front doorbell, peering inside as if he expected someone to be at home. He even called, "Eric?" Then he went round to the back and did the same, checking the path, the kitchen, and the windows. He saw no one, so he returned to his car and called de Jersey.

De Jersey was alone, smoking, when his cell phone vibrated. He knew it was Wilc.o.x from the hacking cough.

"It's easy access both back and front, and I had a good look as the occupants left. Only the two of them live there. The back door's hidden from the other houses by a big hedgerow. The front is visible to the neighbors."

"Mmm, good. You still there?"

"On my way home."

"You see her, then?"

Wilc.o.x sneezed. "It's freaky. She's the image of her, identical."