Nothing Ventured (Detective William Warwick 1)

‘Make out a boarding pass for Detective Constable Warwick,’ said the security man, ‘and if possible, seat him a couple of rows behind Carter.’

‘I can do three rows behind him,’ she said, tapping away on her computer

.

‘Couldn’t be better,’ said William.

She printed out the boarding pass and gave it to him.

‘My name’s Jim Travers,’ said William’s new minder. ‘Follow me. We’ve no time to waste.’

William was taken backstage, and accompanied Jim down a gloomy grey brick corridor, where there were no passengers, just airport staff. After a long swift walk, Jim pushed open a door that led William out of the terminal, to where an unmarked car was parked by the runway. Jim jumped in and drove him to the side of a waiting aircraft.

‘Good luck,’ he said, before William ran up the steps and onto an empty plane.

He took his seat near the back and didn’t have to wait long before the first passengers appeared. Carter was among the last. Still clutching on to his holdall, he took a window seat three rows in front of William.

After the plane had taken off, William had his first proper meal for the past couple of days, before taking the opportunity to lean back and close his eyes. After all, Carter wouldn’t be getting off before they landed in Rome.

The plane touched down at Da Vinci two hours later and taxied to the gate. There were only a couple of passengers between William and Carter when they entered the terminal and headed for passport control. Help, thought William, when he remembered that he didn’t have a passport. But he had only walked a few more yards when a smartly dressed young woman appeared by his side and linked her arm in his.

‘Just stay with me, Detective Constable Warwick.’

‘But I could lose the man I’m following.’

‘Two of our officers are already tailing Carter. You’ll catch up with him on the other side.’

They headed towards a gate marked ‘Crew’, and were clearly expected, as they passed through passport control without even breaking stride. William felt like royalty as he was whisked out of the terminal, where a car was waiting for him, back door open.

He thanked the young woman before climbing in to find a man in a smart beige uniform seated in the back, who was obviously expecting him.

‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘My name is Lieutenant Antonio Monti. I’m here to give you whatever assistance you require.’

‘Grazie,’ replied William as they shook hands.

‘Parla l’italiano?’

‘Enough to get by,’ said William. ‘Ma poi Roma è la mia città preferita.’

They had to wait for another thirty minutes before Carter sauntered out of the building, bag in hand, and joined a taxi queue, by which time the lieutenant knew almost as much about Carter as William did.

The Italian police driver turned out to be far more adept than William when it came to tailing a suspect, which allowed him to enjoy some familiar sights: the Colosseum, St Peter’s Basilica, Trajan’s Column, all of which he remembered from his student days when he’d sat at the back of an overcrowded bus with no air conditioning, heading for a youth hostel not exactly in the centre of town.

When Carter’s taxi finally came to a halt, it was not outside a hotel as William had expected, but a large municipal building with an Italian flag fluttering from a mast on the roof.

‘Stay put and leave this to me,’ said the lieutenant. ‘We don’t want him to spot you.’ He got out of the car and followed Carter inside.

William also got out, but only to stretch his legs, then suddenly took a step back and hid behind a fountain when he spotted a familiar figure entering the building. His eyes never left the front door for more than a few seconds, but it was almost an hour before the lieutenant reappeared and joined him in the back of the car.

Carter came out a few moments later, and hailed a taxi, but Monti didn’t instruct the driver to follow them.

‘He’s on his way back to the airport,’ said Monti. ‘The bag is now empty,’ he added without explanation. ‘They’ve booked on the 3.10 to Heathrow.’

‘Then I should be on the same plane,’ said William.

‘Not necessary. DS Roycroft will be at Heathrow waiting for them. In any case, we have more important things to do.’

‘Like what?’