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answering machine for me to vet, likewise with calls to his mobile from people he didn t
know, his stress levels eased a bit. The delivery harassment also stopped, but whether that
was because the stalker was bored or because he had a real life job, I didn t know. My
recovery continued to be uneventful, though I had work to do. Harry had been very
helpful, as had Sandy, in contacting as many people who they d known to be at Julie s
wake, and a trickle of photos came in every day. Anton didn t recognise anyone, but then
that wasn t expected. The photos of Harry and me were likely to have been taken by a
camera phone, so spotting who d taken them would be difficult even if I d known to look
out for them.
Andy kept me up to date. Unfortunately there were no leads no DNA, no
fingerprints, no mobile phone locations, no useful IP addresses. At some point our stalker
would trip up. They always did. It was just a matter of waiting until he did.
Looking forward to two weeks in Sweden helped both of us. I d urged Anton to tell
no one but Karl, and to ask Karl not to share it with anyone unless there was an
emergency. The stalker was tracking me and until we knew how he was doing that, I
didn t want to give him any more information if I could possibly avoid it.
Finally the day to leave arrived, and not a moment too soon. We d decided to fly out
before the weekend to avoid the rush. Our Wednesday flight to Stockholm left at two, so
we left the house just before twelve, which gave us plenty of time to catch a train to
Gatwick. Or so we thought. We discovered trains were delayed on all lines to Gatwick
because of a security alert.
Anton stared at the station indicators, then shook his head. We ll be late. Let s get a
minicab.
Normally I d have complained about the cost but this holiday was important, and it
was also important that it was as stress free as I could make it. So I waited while Anton
called a company on Lavender Hill that he knew, and we went outside to be picked up.
The minicab arrived quickly but the traffic was heavy to the M25. The motorway was
flowing well, but by then Anton was biting his lip. I didn t take his hand for fear of
risking a stupid reaction from the driver, but I did send him some text messages to make
him smile. I couldn t wait until we were airborne.
We had barely entered the terminal building when I heard someone call Nick? I
turned instinctively, even though there was little chance the person meant me. But they
did and the they had guns. Six armed police officers surrounded us.
What s going
Hands on your head, now! Both of you!
Do it, Anton, I urged as I obeyed. Sir, I m a police detective. DC Nick Guthrie of
the Met.
The officer in charge obviously hadn t expected that, but it didn t mean anyone
lowered their weapons. Keep your hands on your head, both of you. You ll have a
chance to show ID shortly.
Our bags were removed and taken away, and we were told to take our coats off.
These were put into biohazard bags, and that gave me the clue as to what s going on.
Sir, I think I can explain
Be quiet, DC Guthrie, and move. Both of you.
Still surrounded by sub-automatic-bearing cops, we were herded through the
terminal to the great curiosity of the waiting passengers. Anton, white as a sheet,
fortunately did everything he was asked to. The only time he protested was when the
officers moved to separate us. Nick?
It s all right, Anton. It ll be sorted out. Do what they say.
Move, the officer behind Anton said. Anton obeyed with one last frightened look
back at me. I tried to look calm, but it s surprisingly hard to manage that with a gun in
your kidney.
Because I d met Airport Security a few times, I knew it was pointless to talk to them
until they had done what they needed to. I stripped down to my skin as ordered, and let
them carry out a fairly intrusive examination. I was given a paper gown to wear while my
ID was examined.
Finally the officer in charge, one Sergeant Canning, sat down opposite me. We had
a report that a red-haired man called Nick in the company of a black-haired man, was
arriving at Gatwick with a packet of ricin. What do you know about this?
At last I could explain the stalking and harassment, and my recent near-death
experience. After a call to my DI, Canning became a lot friendlier, allowing me to dress,
and telling me Anton would be joining me shortly. Sorry about this, Constable Guthrie.
But we have to take these things seriously.
Yes, I know. Any idea where the call came from?
Milton Keynes town centre, near as we can tell.
I stared at him. Anton works for the OU there.
Is that good news?
Could be. I looked at my watch. Damn it, we d lost an hour and a half to this crap.
Our flight should be leaving in five minutes. Any chance of keeping this out of the
papers?
We ll do our best. Ah, your flight?
Gone. The next flight arrives too late to be of any use. Bugger.
Sorry. The trains should be all right if you re going back to town. We believe the
same caller was behind the security alerts at Redhill.
He knew. The stalker knew we were flying to Stockholm today. How?
My guv nor had already asked Canning to shoot details of the hoax calls to the team
investigating the stalker case, so there was nothing more for Anton or me to do. Anton
was brought to the front of the Security office just as I came out. He looked ill, and
gripped his pack with white-knuckled hands.
Are you all right?
No, he said. We ve missed the flight.
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