Dead Line Read Online Free PDF Page B

impressive structure, and then one big wave can wash it all away.’
    Charles suppressed a sharp reply and Liz broke in. ‘These two names,’ she said, looking at the paper, ‘do we know anything about them?’
    ‘Not a lot,’ said Fane.
    ‘Sami Veshara - well, I think we can say he’s not Anglo-Saxon.’
    ‘Lebanese perhaps,’ said Charles. He added drily, ‘Curiouser and curiouser.’
    Fane shrugged again. He’s being purposely irritating, thought Charles.
    Liz went on, ‘And Chris Marcham. That has a familiar ring to it - or is it just because it sounds English?’
    Suddenly Fane looked slightly flustered. ‘Actually, that’s a name we do know something about. He’s a journalist, specialises in the Middle East. Freelance now; used to be on the staff of the Sunday Times . We have talked to him in the past. Not often. Bit of an odd fish, frankly.’
    ‘Why’s that?’ asked Liz.
    ‘He made his name reporting first-hand on the Falangist massacres in the South Lebanese refugee camps. For a moment, the world was his oyster. He’s extraordinarily knowledgeable about the Palestinians, and one of the few Western journalists all their factions seem to trust. He could have become another Robert Fisk, but something seemed to hold him back. He doesn’t write that much nowadays.’
    ‘Personal issues?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Fane. ‘He’s a loner - no wife that we know of. He travels a lot - must be out there at least half the year.’
    ‘We should be able to find him easily enough.’
    ‘Yes, I’d suggest you start with him.’
    ‘Start?’
    Charles caught Liz’s outraged gaze. But he had already made up his mind. ‘Geoffrey and I have agreed this story needs looking into, if only to establish there’s nothing to it. I want you to do the looking.’ He shrugged and knew that when she calmed down Liz would realise that he had no choice. To be told that people, operating in the UK to disrupt a peace conference, were also targets for assassination required some response - even if, as he suspected, it all proved to be absolute balls.
    Fane’s smug expression made it obvious that whether he was passing along a ticking bomb or a damp squib, he was in the clear now.
    ‘When do you want me to begin on this?’ asked Liz, knowing the answer.
    ‘Right away,’ Charles told her and added what he hoped would be a consolation. ‘Have Peggy Kinsolving help you.’
    Liz suppressed a laugh. She knew Fane had been irked when Peggy had switched allegiances from MI6 to Thames House.
    But Fane seemed unfazed. ‘Good idea,’ he declared. ‘She’s a clever girl.’ He stood up. ‘In the meantime, I’ll ask Templeton to try and get more out of this source of ours.’ He grinned at Liz. ‘It will be good to work with you again, Elizabeth.’
    ‘It’s Liz,’ she said curtly.
    ‘Of course it is.’ Fane was still smiling. ‘How could I forget?’
    Honours even, I think, said Charles to himself as Fane left the room.

SIX
     
    ‘This is really good!’ Peggy exclaimed, and Liz had to suppress a smile. Only Peggy could be delighted by a cheese sandwich bought from a deli on Horseferry Road.
    They were lunching at Peggy’s desk in the open-plan office, surrounded by reference books and working papers. Liz glanced with distaste at her own lunch, a grim salad of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a piece of rubber passing as a hard-boiled egg.
    ‘All right,’ she said to Peggy. ‘Let’s start with the Syrians. What do we know about their people here?’
    ‘Not much’, replied Peggy, ruffling through her papers. ‘I spoke to Dave Armstrong in counter terrorism, but he says the Syrians aren’t one of their priority targets, so they haven’t done any close work on them recently. And we haven’t had a counter espionage case involving them for many years. All we know is what’s on their visa applications. I’ve checked the names with European liaison and the Americans and got three possible intelligence