Benjelloun also didn’t believe that Jensen and Rampy were straightforward kidnappers. The money blowing up in London, the organisation required to deliver the hostages to the High Atlas and the characters involved all led him to believe there was a subtext that Boxer was not revealing.
‘You’re not getting out of here,’ said Benjelloun, ‘until you come clean about Jensen and Rampy’s objectives and your own role in this business.’
Boxer’s second week in the military base outside Marrakesh was one of the most uncomfortable of his life. He still refused to admit that he had a hand in any of the killings, but realised that Benjelloun had to be thrown a bone. He told him Jensen’s story: that he was acting for the CIA in order to wipe out a politically motivated rogue cell within the agency. Benjelloun asked him why he hadn’t told him this before and Boxer said that it sounded too fantastic, that he wouldn’t believe him.
‘You’re right,’ said Benjelloun. ‘I don’t.’
On 8 February, Simon Deacon was finally allowed to see him.
‘We’ve done everything we can from our side,’ said Deacon, after they’d hugged and Boxer had apologised for his beard and high odour. ‘But the CIA won’t back up the story Jensen’s fed you about this rogue cell. They say it’s a complete fabrication.’
‘Have they offered an explanation for Jensen’s behaviour?’
‘Only that he’s an ex-contractor turned crackpot.’
‘I suppose they have to,’ said Boxer. ‘Can’t go around admitting the agency’s been compromised. What did they have to say about the four CIA operatives and Ken Bass found dead in the High Atlas?’
‘They were on a rescue mission to free the hostages.’
‘What’s your reading of it in MI6?’
‘We’re getting the same confirmation through our CIA channels,’ said Deacon. ‘They were the good guys.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m going to ask you a question as your friend,’ said Deacon. ‘What were you doing out there?’
‘I’ve told Benjelloun a hundred times over: I went to kill Conrad Jensen and free the hostages. I got the lead about Rampy from Kushner and pursued it. Everything else that happened was out of my control once Rampy kidnapped me in Marrakesh. From that moment onwards I can only tell you what I saw and what I was told. But where does that leave me as the lone survivor?’
‘I’ll be honest with you,’ said Deacon. ‘You’re in a deep hole, but we’ll see what we can do.’
Three days later he was free. He wasn’t sure what had happened but he could sense that Benjelloun wasn’t happy about it, that the order had come from well above his head. On his arrival in London, five kilos lighter, Deacon met him off the plane. He too was reticent, said it had been the result of a combination of diplomacy and a cover story they’d invented about him acting for MI6. He was taken into Vauxhall Cross for two days of debriefing, staying with Deacon and not communicating with anybody in the outside world.
They released him in time for Isabel’s delayed funeral on 12 February. The service was held at St Mary Abbots church, and afterwards there was a wake at the Orangery paid for by Frank D’Cruz.
It was the first time Boxer had seen Amy, Mercy and Alleyne since that night in Streatham three weeks ago. He was still physically weak and the emotional funeral, with more than two hundred people in attendance, followed by their reunion left him exhausted. Alyshia and Deepak Mistry came over to talk to Mercy, Amy and Marcus about the baby. They’d all been seeing each other during their regular visits to the neonatal ICU. Mercy took Boxer off for a walk in the cold, damp gardens where she told him about George Papadopoulos getting shot.
‘He lost a kidney and he had some paralysis in his legs, but, thank God, that’s cleared up. He took his first steps a couple of days ago.’
‘Is he going to get back to work?’
‘Not for a bit. A few months, I’d have thought, and then maybe not in the special investigations unit.’
‘And Amy? How’s she been?’
‘I took her back to the shrink. That thing with Siobhan’s changed her. Something … intense went on in there,’ said Mercy, tapping her temple. ‘I thought she should talk to someone. She seems to be all right, but she’s anxious. She wakes up every morning inexplicably edgy.’
‘Two people got killed in front of her,’ said Boxer. ‘Siobhan took a bullet meant for her and her own father shot someone in the head. It’d be unusual if she didn’t wake up anxious. How about you and Marcus?’
‘What about us?’
‘Still good?’
‘That’s not what you meant,’ said Mercy. ‘I know you.’
‘Have you told DCS Hines about his criminal career?’ asked Boxer. ‘Or are you waiting for the next time?’
Mercy sighed.
‘Hines is never going to let you go,’ said Boxer, ‘not now. You’re his star performer. Probably the only woman who’s ever impressed Ryder Forsyth.’
‘Ryder and me,’ said Mercy, smiling. ‘You know, he invited me to Brize Norton to meet the hostages off the plane from Marrakesh with all the parents.’
‘How did that go?’
‘Very emotional. The six of them walked off the plane holding hands. Wú Dao-ming fainted when she saw her boy. I’d been talking to Anastasia Casey before the plane arrived. Ryder had told me how tough she was. All I saw was this great bruiser of a woman beside herself. And Yermilov. I didn’t think Yury was going to survive the hug he gave him. Emma and I were already close. She’d told me she wouldn’t have been able to keep going if anything had happened to Sophie. Her head was full of how she was going to tell her daughter she no longer had a father. The Germans were very un-Germanic. And the Sarkars turned up with about twenty family members, including the ambassador. It’s good to see that even the super-rich are as vulnerable as the rest of us.’
‘So you and Ryder…?’
‘Inseparable,’ said Mercy. ‘I’ve even asked him why he’d denied knowing you.’
‘Did he tell you?’
‘He said he didn’t want the personal to get confused with the professional.’
‘Nicely done, Ryder.’
‘I like him.’
‘Simon’s told me Ryder’s come out of this thing smelling of roses.’
‘You make that sound as if he should be stinking of something else.’
‘Depends how wonderful you think the Kinderman Corporation is,’ said Boxer. ‘And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you still haven’t told me what you’re going to do about Marcus.’
‘Let’s talk about you, shall we?’
‘Me?’
‘You’ve got a son, remember?’
‘Who needs a mother,’ said Boxer.
‘Don’t look at me,’ said Mercy. ‘Amy’ll tell you it’s not my strongest card.’
‘Not you.’
‘Amy’s not ready for anything like that.’
‘Not Amy,’ said Boxer. ‘I was thinking of Alyshia.’
‘Alyshia,’ said Mercy, nodding. ‘Are we talking adoption?’
‘I think that would be the fairest way.’
‘And you’d be all right with that?’ said Mercy. ‘What if she went to India … permanently?’
‘We’d have to talk about that,’ said Boxer. ‘I’m just thinking about it at the moment. She loves the baby. She loved her mother. She and I have got closer over the last couple of years.’
‘It’s a big decision.’
‘It came to me as I was flying back from Marrakesh,’ said Boxer. ‘I couldn’t see myself looking after a baby in my flat in Belsize Park. The boy should have a family life, more of a family life than I had, with parents and other siblings maybe.’
And with those words came the flickering image of the Betamax cassette tape on his kitchen table, along with Conrad Jensen’s revelation to him in the High Atlas, and the other reason for giving his son away. It was something that had gripped him throughout his ordeal in the Moroccan prison: the ba
d seed being passed from father to son. Perhaps that could be contained or even reversed by nurture from a different parent. He looked at Mercy and in that instant thought, no, this was not for her, and realised that once again he’d become a man with secrets.
‘Let’s go back inside and have a drink,’ he said.
Towards the end of February, Boxer was feeling stronger. He’d got his sleeping patterns back to normal and was eating properly. He spent some time turning the Betamax tape over in his hands but doing nothing about it, not even finding a player to view it.
He met with Simon Deacon regularly and they talked about what had happened in Morocco, and MI6’s analysis of his debrief, which had not included the name of the group that Jensen was trying to extinguish nor the fact that he’d revealed himself as Boxer’s father, and certainly not that he would be contacted by Louise and was expected to follow up on Ryder Forsyth.
‘The first thing the analysts at the Cross still can’t work out is why Siobhan employed you to look for Jensen,’ said Deacon.
‘Nor can I,’ said Boxer. ‘But Amy released those recordings of my initial interview with Siobhan, so I hope there’s no doubting my word on that.’
‘No, no, we don’t doubt you, it just doesn’t make sense.’
‘I can’t help you,’ said Boxer. ‘What’s the second thing?’
‘There was never any trace of Jensen out in the Mauritanian desert. Benjelloun informed the CIA of Jensen’s intentions as soon as you told him. The Americans have very powerful satellite technology. I’ve heard it on good authority that he never showed up on any of their scans, and their field agents haven’t picked up on him anywhere in west Africa.’
‘Maybe he went off and became a tourist in Agadir instead,’ said Boxer. ‘Or maybe the CIA didn’t really look that hard.’
‘The third thing we’re uncomfortable about is this rogue CIA cell?’
‘I saw what I saw and heard what I heard. They offered Jensen money to walk away. That’s why Bass had a satellite phone. Sutherland confirmed their involvement in the Benghazi debacle. Nobody wants to believe me and I’m sure the CIA don’t want anybody to believe me either.’
‘Then there’s the set-up of the kidnaps,’ said Deacon. ‘You know we brought Jennifer Cook back. She took quite a beating from those … well we don’t know who they were exactly. Anchorlight operatives reporting back to Kinderman, maybe?’
‘Have they let you anywhere near those guys?’
‘No, even though Cook was travelling with four other soldiers who’ve confirmed her story.’
‘How helpful was Jeff Cook?’ asked Boxer.
‘Her left-wing conspiracy theory is interesting,’ said Deacon. ‘If we’re to believe Jensen, then it fits our analysis at the Cross that this was a crucial part of his plan to draw out the extremists in the CIA. Socialism does something to extreme right-wingers’ brains. The targeted threat of each hostage was important, too. Taking Sophie Railton-Bass was obvious, but all those other countries are places where extreme right-wingers want to have influence.’
‘Even the Russian mafia?’
‘That was one of the most interesting targets of them all: organised crime, banking, access to the Kremlin all wrapped up in one guy.’
‘So you are coming round to my version of events?’
‘We don’t doubt you, we just lack corroboration,’ said Deacon. ‘We know that American politics has never been more polarised, but it’s another leap to say that a right-wing extremist faction has been infiltrating the CIA. You can’t build an intelligence strategy on rumour. We need facts, not pretexts.’
‘Maybe that’s why you’ll remain one step behind the game.’
‘But at least we’ll be right,’ said Deacon, laughing.
Boxer and Amy were on their way to see his mother, Esme, in her flat in Mount Vernon for Sunday lunch. They were walking up Haverstock Hill; it was raining and they were huddled together under an umbrella.
‘How’s it going with the shrink?’ asked Boxer.
‘Don’t call her a shrink,’ said Amy. ‘It makes her sound like some African witch doctor who boils heads down to a manageable size.’
‘They’ve always been called shrinks. I don’t even know why.’
‘Anyway, I’m not going to tell you about discussions with my analyst.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s about sex. It’s private.’
‘Does she think you’re a lesbian, is that it?’ said Boxer. ‘I’ve got no problem with homosexuality, you know. It’s just the way we are.’
‘Dad? Just shut the fuck up. I told you, this is precisely the conversation I don’t want to have with you.’
‘All right,’ said Boxer, changing tack. ‘Can I ask you something about the baby?’
‘Don’t take the piss.’
‘How would you feel about Alyshia and Deepak adopting Jamie?’
Amy stopped in her tracks, pulled him round to face her.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Can you see me bottle-feeding a baby up in that flat before flying out to Pakistan for three weeks to earn a living?’
The rain thrashed across the umbrella.
‘No, I can’t, you’re right. You’d be hopeless.’
‘You OK with the idea?’ asked Boxer. ‘He’s your half-brother.’
They walked on, arm in arm, in silence for several minutes.
‘I can’t think of anyone better,’ she said.
Boxer was with Alyshia. It was late afternoon and dark. They’d spent some time with Jamie and gone for a cup of tea in the hospital canteen, and were now heading back to the Neonatal ICU. Boxer pulled her over to the window and they looked out across the wet Fulham Road.
‘I don’t know how to put this,’ said Boxer, ‘so I’m just going to ask you straight. It’s a big question, so you don’t have to answer immediately. I wanted to know if you’d like to be Jamie’s mother.’
Her head turned slowly away from the glass. She could see Boxer’s face clearly enough in the reflection, but she needed to see him for real, to make sure that the offer she’d heard was genuine. She smiled.
‘Did Mum tell you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘About Deepak and me?’
‘All she said, when she asked if I wanted her to have the baby, was that it should be you not her having a child … that’s all.’
‘Deepak and I have been trying to conceive for over a year now. I’d just started IVF when Mum came over to Mumbai and we found out she was pregnant. It hit me hard. I was angry with her, envious, but I got over it, came round and got involved.’
‘So you’ve already thought about this?’
‘I’ve been hoping,’ she said, ‘waiting for you to ask.’
‘And Deepak?’ asked Boxer. ‘It’s not always easy for a man to have a child that’s not his own in the house.’
‘He’s cool,’ said Alyshia. ‘We’re still going to try for our own.’
‘I’d want you to adopt him. That would be best. I’ll be his godfather,’ said Boxer. ‘And by the way, I’ve spoken to Amy and she’s hoping you’ll agree.’
‘Are you all right with us splitting our time between London and Mumbai?’
‘Is that what you’re planning?’
‘Dad’s reeled Deepak back into the fold,’ said Alyshia. ‘He wants him to build the electric cars in the UK plants. So if anything, we’ll be more here than there.’
Mercy and Marcus Alleyne were eating groundnut soup in her kitchen in Streatham. It was Alleyne’s favourite Ghanaian food. They’d just started on the second bottle of Malbec.
‘I’m going to talk to DCS Hines about you,’ said Mercy, out of the blue. ‘Tell him that I’m in a full-blown relationship with a known criminal.’
‘I’m not known to him, Mercy,’ said Alleyne. ‘I’m only known on the street.’
‘You think?’
‘I’m very careful.’
‘People know about you, which mea
ns we know about you.’
‘Then why aren’t I in HMP Wandsworth?’
‘Probably because you’re the acceptable face of crime. You’re not violent. You don’t use firearms or knives. You keep a low profile. If we busted you, the replacement might be a lot nastier.’
‘So you’re being … kind?’
‘You could think of it like that.’
‘If you tell DCS Hines, maybe that kindness is going to run out.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Before you talk to him, I got some news for you.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’m out.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m selling the stock left in my flat and I’m out. No more fencing.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Got me into some scary shit, that’s why,’ said Alleyne. ‘Don’t want to go through that again. I told Charlie, I thought I was done for. That’s no way to live.’
‘How’re you going to make a living?’
‘I still haven’t got the answer to that, Mercy. But I will find it. I guarantee.’
Alleyne put his knife and fork together, finished his Malbec and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He took a pouch out of his pocket and proceeded to roll a large joint, which he lit and smoked.
On the day that Jamie Boxer was due to leave the Neonatal ICU, the adoption process had still not been completed, so Boxer went to pick him up and bring him back to Isabel’s house in Kensington, where Alyshia and Deepak were now living so that they were close to the Chelsea and Westminster.
There was a small party for his arrival of about twenty people standing around drinking champagne. Boxer made a very moving speech about Isabel, the adoption and Alyshia, who looked radiant holding the still very tiny bundle in her arms.