Everything about him looked authentic, his shaved head, the saffron robe, the sandals on his feet. Even the faded red linen bag slung over his shoulder was standard dress for a Buddhist monk. His intuition had been correct. The outfit he wore made him indistinguishable from the hundreds of monks assembled in front of the ornate wooden temple. As he approached them, he shortened his stride and without stopping, removed an old pocket watch from his bag. It was nine in the morning. The annual religious ceremony should have finished long ago.

Nampangsa was a small settlement comprising a few dozen houses built around an ancient temple complex in the mountainous province of Chiang Rai, Thailand’s most northern region. About a half hour drive to the northeast lay the district-town of Chiang Saen, better known as the Golden Triangle. From a lookout situated high above the town, one could see the intersection of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers at a point where Thailand, Myanmar and Laos converged to form the Golden Triangle, an area where opium used to be produced in abundance. Even now, the mystery surrounding the region still evoked images of long mule trains and vast fields of red poppies, but to a different audience than the original drug lords. Over the past few years hordes of tourists had been pouring into this remote part of the country in ever-increasing numbers.

Today was different. The temple grounds were packed with monks and locals, and there were only a handful of tourists present. A smile spread across his face. He could have dressed in villagers’ clothes and saved himself the trouble.

As he wrestled his way to the centre of the crowd, the monotonous chanting stopped. On cue, everyone around him broke out in lively chatter, and hundreds of sandalled feet stirred up tiny puffs of ochre dust from the hard-packed earth as they made their way towards the food stalls.

Rather than follow the noisy crowd, he walked over to one of the enormous fig trees lining the perimeter of the temple grounds and sat down under its shady canopy. He had an unobstructed view of the food stalls but was far enough away that no one would bother him.

From the stalls, the familiar aroma of baked coconut and sugar wafted across the temple grounds. Long queues had already formed at the tables where the local women served Khanom Krok, the staple Thai breakfast food. He watched the women spoon the coconut milk, flour and sugar batter into round metal moulds before adding a topping and deftly flipping the delicacy with fluid, well-practised movements.

With his legs crossed and his back resting against the broad tree trunk, he must have dozed off. As he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed the crowd had swelled considerably. He searched his bag for the pocket watch. It was a few minutes after eleven. He was about to return it when he heard a male voice to his immediate left.

‘Kate, Nina, over here! I found a great spot to take our photo!’

The voice was deep and melodious, and he instantly knew who it belonged to. His body froze. If they recognised him, that would be the end of his mission. He fought the overpowering urge to look up. Instead, he concentrated on his breathing. Feigning sleep, he opened his hand and let his brother’s cherished watch fall into his lap.

Another familiar voice said, ‘That looks good. Move to your right. I want the monk in the frame. He adds a splash of colour.’

‘You can’t photograph a monk,’ the second female objected.

‘Why the heck not, Nina? He’s asleep and what’s he going to do? Move a bit closer together. Charles, smile.’

Kate was quick. Moments later he heard her say, ‘Excellent, this picture will be a masterpiece.’

‘Then let’s go. It’s too hot here,’ Nina said.

After that, it was silent again. Maybe too quiet. He waited another excruciating few minutes before he half opened his eyes to check if they were still there. Satisfied that they’d gone, he rose and dabbed small beads of sweat from his forehead with a corner of his robe. He doubted that any of them recognised him, but the potential encounter had been too close for comfort.

Suddenly, the crowd’s mood shifted. Prime Minister Chairat Anantara had arrived. He caught a glimpse of him surrounded by his security detail who were trying to clear a path to the podium. With some effort, the Prime Minister eventually reached it and addressed the crowd.

Seeing Anantara had made his body tense up. He exhaled and rotated his shoulders to loosen his muscles. When he turned his attention back to the food stalls, they were deserted.

Fifteen minutes passed with no sign of the woman supplying the bamboo shoots. He was beginning to worry, when he noticed an old lady approach the nearest stall. She had to be the person he’d been waiting for. She needed both hands to carry a large plastic container. About one hundred metres behind her, a teenage girl was struggling to carry a second, identical-looking container.

With the crowd focused on Anantara, the timing couldn’t have been better. He saw the woman enter a stall and place her bucket on the ground before she walked back to the girl to help her. He estimated it would take a few minutes before the two females returned and the Prime Minister wrapped up his speech. It should be enough time to get the job done without being observed.

In measured strides, he crossed an open area and entered the stall. He reached into his bag, removed a small plastic bottle, and carefully unscrewed its cap. Kneeling beside the bucket, he lifted its lid and poured most of the bottle’s contents over the food. His instructions were clear, ‘use all the liquid in the bottle’. He hesitated, then tipped a little more into the bucket. He held the bottle up to the light and checked that there was enough liquid left over. Satisfied, he screwed the cap back onto the bottle and pressed the lid back onto the bucket. To make sure that the bottle’s contents would distribute evenly, he shook the bucket several times. The entire process was over in under a minute.

He stood up and monitored the woman’s progress. She and the girl were talking, and she had her back to him.

With the first stage of his mission accomplished, it was time to go. Without hurrying, he left the temple complex and hailed a passing tuktuk to take him to a bus stop for his trip back to Chiang Rai International Airport. As he climbed in, he turned and looked back at the food stall. The woman and the girl were busy pouring the contents of one bucket into an oversized serving dish. He couldn’t tell which bucket it was, but it didn’t matter. The crowd would consume most of the food and many people would die.

The last thing he heard, as he left Nampangsa, was the thunderous applause to Anantara’s speech.

***

Charles St George popped the last morsel of Khanom Krok into his mouth. He chewed briefly and swallowed. ‘Right! I’m ready to go.’

‘Finally! Let’s get out of here,’ Nina said, and headed for the car park.

‘Someone’s in a hurry. Am I missing something? I thought our plane only leaves tonight.’ Kate gave her cousin a questioning look.

Charles rubbed his neck and stood up. His half smile failed to hide the concerned expression on his face. ‘Are you coming, Kate?’

It was the first time they had been alone together on the trip, and with Nina out of earshot it was the perfect opportunity to speak to him. Kate hesitated. She couldn’t decide whether to mind her own business or be intrusive and ask what was going on between him and Nina. And something was going on between those two. Kate had noticed a subtle change in Nina’s behaviour towards Charles several weeks earlier. At first, she had paid little attention to it but working in close confines with them for the last two days had made her realise that she would have to address the issue sooner rather than later. But this was not the place to have a personal discussion with her cousin about his marriage.

‘Peter invited me for lunch. I’ll see you at around five at the hotel,’ Kate said.

‘Okay, see you later. Don’t eat too much. Got to watch the figure.’ Charles patted her on the shoulder and headed off to join his wife.

Kate settled into her chair for what was likely to be a long wait. Her thoughts turned to the dilemma she found herself in. Was there a problem between Nina and Charles or was Nina’s negative behaviour linked to Global Cuisine? While she cared about Nina, it was Charles who held a special place in her heart. Lord Charles St George, the founder and CEO of the catering group Global Cuisine, was her cousin, her best friend, and at least technically, her boss. She hated the thought of interfering in their relationship, but if Nina’s discontent became more overt, and it related to something going on in the business, the repercussions could be serious for her. For one, Kate’s undercover National Crime Agency role would be under threat. Kate was the head of SIU or Secret Intelligence Unit, a covert intelligence gathering, and black ops unit attached to the NCA. Charles, whose father and grandfather had also been spies, was well aware of Kate’s clandestine activities and had given her permission to use Global Cuisine as a cover to run SIU from. But he did not want to be involved in Kate’s, and her brother Ethan’s, spy operation. Ethan, the NCA Director of Intelligence, was Kate’s real boss, and Charles had no interest in the details of what they were up to. Although Kate was Global Cuisine’s Human Resources manager, she would often stand in for Charles or Nina and conduct business on their behalf. Sometimes, when her heavy schedule permitted, she’d help them at important functions, like the corporate retreat they’d just catered for. Travelling regularly all over the world, on behalf of Global Cuisine, allowed Kate to interact with her network of informants without raising suspicion.

The roar of the crowd signalled the end of Prime Minister Anantara’s speech. As his security detail ushered him out of the temple grounds, his supporters, in what looked like a well-choreographed move, headed back to the food stalls that had opened for lunch. With her concentration broken, Kate watched the long lines of people queuing in front of the stalls. It took another half hour before a young man placed two plates, piled high with chicken curry and bamboo shoots, on the table. He eased himself into the empty chair and pushed a plate to Kate.

‘I could have bought us lunch before the crowd arrived.’

Peter grinned. ‘I know that, but this is my way of saying thank you for employing me all these years.’

She was very fond of Peter. He was the only child of Carmen Tan-Williams, a Malaysian-born Chinese MI6 intelligence officer. Kate and Carmen had first met when Kate was an MI5 analyst. Their respective agencies became involved in a complex joint operation. The two women collaborated for almost six months and forged a close and lasting friendship. After the investigation concluded, Kate and Carmen continued to share intel informally and their mutually beneficial arrangement continued to this day.

When MI6 deployed Carmen to the Department of International Trade, housed in the British Embassy in Bangkok, she asked Kate to keep an eye on Peter while he completed his bachelor’s degree in London. Kate readily agreed and even arranged a part-time job for Peter working as a waiter for Global Cuisine London. After completing his degree, Peter suspended his studies and travelled around Thailand and South East Asia. Once again, Aunty Kate came to the rescue and organised a part-time job for him with Global Cuisine Thailand.

When Peter heard about the three-day corporate retreat that Global Cuisine was catering for in Chiang Rai, he pleaded with Kate to let him come with, as he wanted to stay on after the retreat and explore some of the local sites.

Kate smiled and picked up her spoon.

‘Try the chicken curry first. You can eat the bamboo shoots later,’ Peter suggested.

She sampled the curry. At first, she felt nothing, then one of its ingredients kicked in. Fiery and overpowering didn’t adequately describe the lava flow making its way down her throat. Kate ran to the nearest cold drink seller and bought a bottle of water. The cool liquid took the edge off the burning sensation in her throat. Her nose was running, and her eyes were still watering when she returned to the table.

Peter found her discomfort amusing. He roared with laughter and was about to shovel a spoonful of curry into his mouth when he dropped the spoon and clutched his throat with both hands.

‘Clown.’ Kate shook her head and sat down. She moved the vegetable plate closer and, as she speared a bamboo shoot, she was shoved face down onto the table. A man had struck her and was thrashing about, convulsing on the ground behind her chair. He wasn’t the only one. There was pandemonium all around her. It looked like people were struggling to breathe.

Her focus shifted to Peter, who lay slumped forward across their table. He was motionless, and it looked like he had stopped breathing. It only took her a few seconds to process what was happening. ‘Everyone, stop eating!’ she screamed in basic Thai. She laid Peter on his side, grabbed her phone and speed dialled a number. They answered immediately. ‘I’m in Nampangsa, I have an emergency.’ She waited impatiently while a voice recognition program verified her.

‘Thank you. What’s the problem?’

‘There are mass casualties with breathing difficulties. It could be food related because it’s happened while people are eating. We’ll need ventilators. My friend has stopped breathing and needs urgent attention.’ Kate didn’t wait for an answer. She didn’t need to. She knew they would act on her request at once.

While she’d been talking, she’d inspected Peter’s airway. It was clear, but he wasn’t breathing. She started CPR. ‘Fuck Peter, breathe!’ Kate checked his pulse. Nothing. She grabbed a paper napkin from the table, ripped a hole in its centre, and positioned it over Peter’s mouth. She rested one hand on his chest, pinched his nostrils, and placed her mouth over his. Startled, she pulled back. Despite the napkin, her lips were tingling. She wiped his lips with a clean napkin and tried again. This time, she had no reaction. She blew two long breaths into his mouth and felt his chest rise and fall. She repeated the procedure several more times. ‘Don’t you die on me!’ Kate redoubled her efforts. Peter was a fit, healthy twenty-two-year-old. She wasn’t prepared to let him die.

She was so engrossed in trying to save him, she didn’t notice the motorbike until it screeched to a halt right next to her. The rider dismounted, removed his backpack and knelt to take Peter’s pulse. After a few moments, he stood up and shook his head.

‘No! He’s not dead. We need to carry on,’ Kate shouted.

‘I’m sorry, but there is nothing more we can do for him. He’s gone. I’ll take care of him, but it will be better if you are not here when the authorities arrive. Everything has been arranged. The medical teams from Chiang Rai should be here at any moment. Please, go now!’

Kate stared down at Peter’s motionless body. She knew the man was right. All the CPR in the world wouldn’t bring Peter back. She bent down and gently closed his eyes. ‘Make sure he gets treated appropriately.’

Seven months later.

‘Kate!’ She opened her eyes. The speaker stood in the doorway, his large frame backlit by the soft strip lighting of the Learjet’s main cabin. From her position, sprawled out on Charles’s queen-size bed, she couldn’t identify him, but she recognised the pilot’s voice. He was ex-military and one of Ethan’s men.

‘We’re landing in forty minutes.’ He switched on the bedroom lights and placed a mug of coffee on the small bedside table. ‘We’ll be too late for you to change at your apartment. Moses sent a change of clothes for you. They’re in the locker. You’ll find toiletries in the bathroom. Give me a shout if you need anything else.’

Kate rolled onto her side and slowly sat up. Every muscle in her body ached. Lack of sleep together with a seventy-two-hour forced trek over rough terrain in the Dartmoor National Park had left their mark. She ran her hand through her hair and tried to wipe off the grime still covering her face. Both were in dire need of soapy water.

This year’s training exercise had been unusually challenging. The participating teams had endured three days of extreme terrain and weather, before rescuing a hostage who was being held in a well-guarded estate. They were carrying extra-heavy backpacks and had an enforced time limit to complete the mission. To make matters worse, they couldn’t rely on their basic maps, as a heavy fog had blanketed the area, making navigation difficult.

As she sipped her coffee, Kate stared at her muddied boots and other combat gear she’d dumped on the floor before collapsing on the bed. She had a monster of a headache courtesy of the previous evening’s post-mission celebration. Her team of undercover NCA officers had beaten the standing MI6 record by over ten minutes, which was no mean feat under the tough conditions they’d faced.

Kate put down the empty mug and hobbled into the adjoining narrow bathroom. She almost recoiled at the image that greeted her in the mirror. The only thing she recognised were her bloodshot, blue-green eyes. The rest of her face looked like her gaming avatar, with diagonal stripes of black combat paint showing through her mud-encrusted face. Moss and other unidentifiable matter from the moors covered her chestnut brown hair. She couldn’t believe that she’d spent two hours in a pub looking like this. A gentle turn of the aircraft prompted her to hurry up. She savoured the warm water for as long as possible. Clean again, Kate wrapped a towel around herself and stepped back into the bedroom. She opened the locker door and burst out laughing when she saw what Moses had selected for her.

Moses was also an NCA and SIU undercover officer. He lived in a basement flat in Charles’s house in London and doubled up as the caretaker. Officially, Moses was her deputy. His principal job was to coordinate SIU’s operations and watch her back, twenty-four seven. In fact, he was much more than that. After Charles, he was her closest friend and confidant. He probably knew more about her than her brother did. But he clearly knew little about her taste in clothing. She shook her head, grabbed the clothes and got dressed before taking her seat for the landing.

***

Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok was busier than usual. Kate cleared customs and scanned the waiting crowd for Nop, Global Cuisine’s local driver. She spotted him standing behind the barrier and gave him a brief wave. He rushed forward and gave the traditional Thai greeting, a wai, by pressing his hands together in a prayer-like fashion in front of his chest and bowed.

‘Welcome, Khun Kate. Did you have a good flight?’

Was she imagining it, or was Nop’s bow lower than usual? ‘It was fine, thank you, Khun Nop.’ He escorted her through the busy arrivals hall to the company BMW parked outside. After opening the rear passenger door for her, he ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in.

‘I think we are late.’ He turned to make eye contact with her. ‘I will have to, how do you say in English, put foot!’

‘Good idea.’ Kate slid further down into her padded seat. She woke as their car approached the new Chao Phraya Conference Centre.

Gunter Holz, head chef of Global Cuisine Thailand, ripped open the car door. ‘It’s about time!’

Despite his rough appearance and irascible nature, Kate liked Gunter and over the years had become fond of him, his Thai wife Kitty and their young son Jett. He was not in a good mood, and in her current delicate state, his behaviour infuriated her.

She checked her watch. ‘What’s your problem, Gunter? You told me the press conference was starting at three. We’ve still got ten minutes.’

Gunter shrugged. ‘Maybe, but I’ve been standing around waiting for you for almost a bloody hour!’

‘That’s too damn bad. The customs queues were diabolical, and the traffic wasn’t much better. Just remember, I’m the one doing you a favour by coming. I rushed here at such short notice I didn’t get a chance to pack a suitcase. No one could predict that our catering manager would break his pelvis two days ago and that neither Nina nor Charles would be available. If you’re so pressed for time, you should have attended the frigging press conference on our behalf and I could have stayed in England!’

Gunter didn’t say another word. He did open the door to the conference room for her, which was a first.

There were several men seated along one side of the oblong table. Somchak, the Thai official in charge of all APEC’s catering arrangements, jumped up when he saw her and gave a wai.

‘Khun Kate. It is good to see you.’

Kate returned the gesture. ‘Likewise, Khun Somchak.’

‘I’m sorry to hear about your manager. It’s not the best timing,’ he said, wringing his hands.

‘Accidents happen,’ Kate said. ‘The important thing is that he’ll make a full recovery. Don’t worry, all the preparations for the gala dinner are under control.’

Somchak relaxed. ‘Thank you.’ He turned to the man seated beside him. ‘I believe you know Khun Rochester.’

Rochester raised two fingers to his temple in a mock salute. ‘Hello, princess, nice of you to drop by.’ He didn’t bother to stand, but his smile seemed genuine enough.

Edward Rochester, heir to the Rochester Hotel and Resort chain, had been Global Cuisine’s principal competitor in the bidding for this year’s APEC catering contracts. Kate knew Charles had fought hard to outbid Rochester in securing the main contract to cater for the ‘Summit Leaders’ Gala Dinner’, although Rochester had walked away with most of the remaining catering contracts. Judging by his greeting, Kate got the impression he wasn’t pleased with losing the cherry on the cake, and his presence at the press conference made it clear to her why Charles had insisted that a member of the family had to attend in his place. Personally, Kate had nothing against the man. Rochester was handsome, charming, and as far as she was aware, unattached. Maybe the afternoon wouldn’t be a complete waste of time if she could stay awake long enough.

Kate suppressed a yawn. ‘It’s getting late,’ she said to Somchak. ‘Shall we start?’

Gunter sat down next to her. ‘This should be fun.’

Kate scanned the assembled group of local and international journalists. Her eyes fell on a familiar face, Kevin McVicar, an investigative journalist. With his distinctive Glasgow accent, Kevin could be a real pain in the neck at press conferences, as he had an annoying tendency to ask difficult questions; something she hoped they wouldn’t experience today.

Most of the ensuing discussion focused on this year’s theme and priorities. There were the usual questions about the security measures that had been put in place, especially those for the economic leaders’ meetings to be held at Rochester’s hotel, the Bangkok Rochester, only a few minutes’ walk from where they were seated. Rochester fielded questions on the events he’d be catering for, including the cocktail party following the barge procession at the conclusion of the first day’s meetings.

Kate was about to nod off when Gunter gave her a nudge. The briefing had moved on to the gala dinner. It had been no mean feat for Global Cuisine Thailand to win the contract for this prestigious event, which would be attended by all the visiting economic leaders and top Thai Government and military officials. And for the first time in APEC’s history, both the British Prime Minister and German Chancellor had been invited. The gala dinner was to be followed by the customary APEC leaders’ family photo and fireworks, which would conclude this year’s summit.

Kevin raised his hand. ‘Kate, are you happy with the facilities here at the Chao Phraya Conference Centre?’

‘Absolutely! The facilities are excellent. The architects have done a superb job. I’m not sure if any of you had the chance to view the Grand Hall where the gala dinner will take place. There are lovely views over the Chao Phraya to the Grand Palace, and the kitchen facilities are a caterer’s dream.’

Somchak leaned closer to the microphone. ‘There is also a broad balcony overlooking the Grand Hall. That’s where the press will be stationed to photograph and film the proceedings. I invite you all to come and check it out while you’re here. Now, are there any more questions?’

‘Yes.’ A tall Thai reporter, sitting near Kevin, stood up. ‘I have two more questions for Khun Kate.’

He was a large, muscular man with long hair and looked more like a labourer than a reporter. The man didn’t appear to be from Bangkok. He had the skin tone and features of a Southerner.

‘Does your catering manager’s absence pose any problems for Global Cuisine and is it true that you are considering changing the first course?’ he said in perfect English.

Understandably, the unfortunate timing of the accident had created some logistical challenges. Not that Kate would ever admit it. Both Charles and Nina would now have to be in Bangkok more often to make sure that all the preparations were going according to plan. His second question surprised Kate. She knew what he was talking about, but it wasn’t public knowledge. About five months earlier Charles had sent an email to an associate of Somchak, asking about the sourcing of palm hearts in Thailand. As the only constraint to their menu planning was that everything needed to be sourced locally, Charles had queried the production and preservation of palm hearts for their first course—lobster tail with heart of palm, served with a crisp salad, cherry tomatoes, avocado fan, drizzled with a grape seed vinaigrette. The official had eased Charles’s concern, stating that there were several producers able to provide the quality and quantity needed. There had been no other mention of this anywhere else. And with only weeks to go, Kate found it highly unlikely that Charles would contemplate a menu change, especially not to the first course. Although she made a mental note to mention this to Charles, she didn’t attach too much credibility to the question. Nevertheless, she worded her response carefully.

‘Firstly, it will be business as usual. Our catering manager’s absence won’t impact on our delivery standards. And secondly, the host country and their caterers always keep the gala dinner arrangements confidential. What you heard is just another rumour. But I can tell you that Global Cuisine Thailand has put together a wonderful menu using a wide range of local produce.’

Kate’s answer must have reassured the reporter as he nodded and sat down.

She noticed some reporters were already sneaking out of the room. As there were no more questions, Somchak closed the meeting. Rochester left before Kate had even got out of her seat. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as quick as him, or she would have avoided Kevin.

‘I like the dress. I don’t see you in one often,’ Kevin said.

‘You can thank my assistant for that and, by the way, flattery will get you nowhere. Why are you here, Kevin?’

‘Stupid question. I’m covering the APEC meeting.’

‘Nice try,’ Kate said, steering them closer to the exit. ‘The leaders’ meeting is weeks away. You’ll have to do better than that. Why are you really here?’

‘I just told you, to cover the APEC meeting.’

‘Bullshit, Kevin, I don’t believe you.’

Kevin roared with laughter. ‘Then don’t.’

They had left the conference room and made their way to the exit. Kevin stopped in front of two large glass sliding doors. Kate noticed Gunter, who she knew loathed Kevin, and must have moved like lightning to avoid him, was comfortably reclining in the back seat of their car, with a grin on his face.

Kevin lowered his voice. ‘So, what’s this about changing the menu?’

‘Oh, come on, Kevin. You know I won’t tell you anything about the menu. Perhaps he just wanted to feel important.’

‘I disagree with you,’ he growled. ‘It was a considered question. He genuinely wanted to hear your answer.’

‘Or maybe you put him up to it. You were probably trying to get me to reveal some confidential details about the gala dinner.’

‘I’ve never set eyes on the man before. With that kind of injury, I’d remember him. He’s not from Bangkok either, he looks like a Southerner.’

Kate started inching past him. ‘What injury? I didn’t notice anything wrong with him.’

‘It’s not obvious, but the top part of his right ear is missing. I assume that’s why he keeps his hair long.’

‘That’s very observant of you, Kevin.’

Kevin smiled and stepped aside as they walked into a wall of sticky hot air. He opened the car door for her. ‘Seriously Kate, you look fantastic. It must be the colour of the dress. It makes your eyes look amazingly green.’

‘You don’t stop, do you?’

‘I’m just getting into first gear. We’ll have to continue this scintillating conversation later.’ He laughed, and slammed the door shut.

Kate rolled her eyes. She liked Kevin, but the big man could be a handful at times. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was up to something. He clearly wasn’t telling her everything, but what worried her was that Kevin had an unnerving tendency to materialise out of nowhere when there was trouble on the way.

As the car pulled out of the driveway, a slight movement in the shrubbery caught her attention.

Kate craned her neck and looked out of the back window. She scanned the dense green foliage. It was empty.

‘What’s wrong?’ Gunter asked.

‘Nothing. I thought I saw someone watching us. I must have been mistaken.’

‘Here are the papers you asked for.’ Gunter handed her a yellow folder. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the embassy?’

‘No. It’s just a routine follow-up. I’ll be fine.’

They dropped him off at Tha Tian Pier before preceding to the British Embassy in South Sathorn Road.

***

It had been over half a year since Peter’s death. Half a year since Kate had last spoken to Carmen. Since then, her attempts to communicate with Carmen had been rebuffed, so she’d been surprised that Carmen had agreed to meet her this afternoon. But she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d get.

Kate had used all her resources to find out what had happened in Nampangsa back in January. The only problem was that whatever had really occurred there had been covered up so well and buried so deep that when Kate had tried to peel back the layers, she’d attracted the attention of certain officials. Ultimately, she’d been forced to stop digging and hadn’t discovered much more than the authorities had offered as the official version of that day’s events.

The official Thai Government report stated that a virulent strain of botulism toxin, contained in one plastic bucket of home-preserved bamboo shoots, had caused the outbreak. It also mentioned that this had happened before in that region and that tighter health regulations would be put in place. According to the report, nine people died, while others became seriously ill and had to be placed on respirators. What wasn’t mentioned was the speed and lethality of the toxin, which was unusual for botulism. There was no mention of any Westerners present in the temple grounds, or of any official Western intervention. Unofficially there were numerous rumours that emergency calls were made by a local hospital to secure respirators and about a dark-haired Caucasian female who had screamed in Thai for people to stop eating. SIU did an excellent job of erasing any trace of Kate’s involvement, and the rumours soon evaporated into thin air.

Kate showed her ID to the security guard and handed him her handbag and mobile. An aide escorted her to Carmen’s office, gestured for her to enter, and left.

Carmen got up from behind her desk. Kate hugged her, but the stiffness in Carmen’s body confirmed what she already knew, that their relationship had deteriorated since Peter’s death. She didn’t have to wait long to find out precisely what was bothering Carmen.

‘I thought you were my friend, Kate. I believed in you and your abilities. You always thought out of the box and were always tenacious. You never ever gave up! You were one of the most effective people I’ve ever known. The incredible network you’ve established has helped to save many lives.’ The sides of Carmen’s mouth dropped. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Except the one that mattered most. Seven months! I’ve given you seven months to find some real answers about Peter’s death. All you can come up with is the same story I was given by the people investigating the Nampangsa incident. I thought you were better than that. I was wrong. In the end, all you’ve produced is the same rubbish the government fed to the media. We both know that if it was botulism, it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill outbreak. Why didn’t you take Peter’s plate? At least we’d have a much better idea of what really killed him!’

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Carmen cut her short. She wasn’t finished with her tirade.

‘I only agreed to this meeting to tell you this in person. I don’t want to hear your excuses or empty promises anymore. When I needed you most, you weren’t there for me and you certainly weren’t there for Peter. I’m done with you. The Trade Office will continue to use Global Cuisine as our caterer, but I’ll only deal with Gunter.’

Her outburst shocked Kate. ‘Carmen, I—’

Carmen straightened and folded her arms. ‘Please go!’

‘Carmen, I just wanted to tell you I’m devastated about Peter. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of that day or Peter, and believe me, I won’t stop until I get to the bottom of this.’ Kate walked to the door.

‘Kate. There is one more thing. It’s the last bit of intel I’m giving you.’

Kate half turned to look at Carmen. Instinctively, she knew that whatever Carmen was going to say was the real reason she’d agreed to see her.

‘The Malaysian Government is going to officially blame MI5 and the Home Office for murdering two of their nationals.’

Judging by Carmen’s expression and body language, Kate got the impression that she was enjoying the prospect of Kate having to grapple with this issue, which she very well knew would soon land on her plate. ‘Thanks for the heads-up.’ Kate opened the door and without looking back left Carmen’s office.

The same day, Belgravia, London, England.

She found him in the kitchen, peering into the open fridge. Still in his pyjama pants and T-shirt, Charles St George stood dead still, his eyes focused on the overloaded shelves.

Nina dropped her keys onto the small hallstand between the kitchen and dining-room door. She placed her handbag next to two bulky shopping bags she needed to take to work and walked into the kitchen. ‘If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll tell you where to find it.’

Charles turned, a broad smile spreading across his face. He took Nina by her arm and pulled her towards him. ‘You look so beautiful,’ he breathed into her ear, making her break out in goose bumps.

‘Hmm.’ Nina purred as he planted little kisses down her neck to her exposed shoulder.

‘I was just thinking about you,’ Charles mumbled while he made his way purposefully back up her slender neck.

Nina tensed. ‘Then why did you have such a grim expression on your face?’

Charles let go of her. ‘You think it was because of us?’ he asked bewildered. ‘Christ Nina, it has nothing to do with that, I swear! To be honest, I was thinking about tonight.’

‘I’ll behave. I promise,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know why I bother with the Old Man. He doesn’t like me, never did, and probably never will. I don’t get it, but then I don’t come from an aristocratic family. Maybe that’s how your ancestors operated, don’t let an outsider in. And Ethan? He doesn’t behave much better.’ She folded her arms and stared at Charles. ‘I’d like to know what I’ve done to them. Five years of marriage and they still treat me like an alien!’

‘Nina. It’s not about you. My father is the way he is. He’s got his reasons.’

The knowledge that only Charles and Kate had fully accepted her into their tightly knit family was hard to deal with. Even the fact that the Earl rarely exhibited any affection towards his son didn’t lessen Nina’s sense of frustration and disappointment with the family. In fact, his behaviour infuriated her, as it seemed he had more time for his nephew Ethan than for his only child.

‘I don’t understand your family. They have no reason to behave like that, especially your father. He’s got everything a man could wish for. He’s titled and wealthy, sits in the House of Lords, has a wonderful wife and son and could have a loving daughter-in-law if he gave me a chance.’

Charles didn’t respond. They both knew she was correct, but maybe it hadn’t been the best time to bring up the subject.

She gestured to the baking ingredients spread out on the island for his photo shoot with a freelance reporter. ‘What time is Angel arriving?’

‘In about an hour, but you never know with her.’ Charles smiled and turned back to the fridge. ‘Is there anything nice buried in here for me to eat?’

‘Sure. There’s your favourite, a tin of bamboo shoots. It’s on the bottom shelf, left side, right behind the bag of cos lettuce. Here, let me help you.’ She nudged Charles out of the way and retrieved the tin. She inspected the label, walked across the kitchen, and placed it on the island. ‘Pass me a bowl and the tin opener, please,’ Nina said. She studied the other items meticulously laid out on the counter. ‘That woman certainly knows how to worm herself into all sorts of places.’ Idly Nina picked up a carafe of vegetable oil. Why oil, she thought. What was wrong with butter? ‘Just be careful about what you tell her. Somehow everything she writes ends up being the opposite of what you say or mean.’ Nina placed the oil back on the marble benchtop.

From the other side of the island, Charles gave her a knowing look. ‘I agree Angel can be a handful, but you’re forgetting that I’ve dealt with her for ages. It’s only since she’s a freelance reporter that she’s become a little unmanageable.’

Charles handed her the bowl and tin opener. She opened the tin over the sink. ‘That’s strange.’

‘What is?’

‘There are almost no shoots in here.’ Nina drained a little of the brine into the sink. She peered into the tin, poking at its contents with a fork. ‘Ah, I found them! One or two anyway.’

‘Nina, what are you doing? Are you giving them your personal blessing? Angel will be here soon.’

‘That’s very funny, Charles. I’m trying to be helpful.’ Nina carefully poured the tin’s contents into the bowl.

‘Here you are. This should keep you satisfied until you’re done with that woman. For the record, she’s more than a little unmanageable. She’s an opportunist and reminds me of a hyena on the prowl. She can be single-minded and anal, especially when she’s on the trail of a juicy story. Just look at all this stuff. She even sent you vegetable oil and a diagram of how she wants you to arrange your counter top. Talk about being obsessive. I wonder what gave her the idea to ask you to do a photo shoot in the first place.’

Charles sighed. ‘Nina, stop worrying. I know how to deal with Angel. You’ll be impressed with me.’

Nina rinsed off the tin opener and threw the empty tin into the rubbish before extracting the bin liner and tying it up.

‘I’m pleased to hear that,’ she said, unconvinced. ‘I’d better get going. It’s getting late. Please put a new liner into the bin for me. I’ll throw this out as I go.’ She tossed the rubbish bag into one of the shopping bags, bundled them all up, and headed for the front door.

***

Nina was already in the garage when she remembered that she’d left her car keys on the hallstand. Cursing, she dropped the bags next to her car and ran back. The sound of breaking china echoed through the house.

‘Stuff it, I’ve had enough!’ Charles’s voice was raised, his words clearly audible in the hallway. Shocked, Nina froze.

‘I should never have listened to any of you. I’ve decided not to sign this document, and I’m going to tell Nina about SIU. I should have done it long ago. This time, nothing you do will deter me. I mean it, Ethan!’

An ice-cold tingling sensation ran down Nina’s spine. She edged closer to the dining-room door and peered in. The connecting door to the kitchen was partially open. Through the gap, she saw Ethan standing opposite Charles. How had he arrived without her seeing him? The two cousins were glaring at each other across the kitchen island. A broken plate lay smashed near Charles’s feet. She noticed a fine trickle of blood dripping from his left hand. Both men ignored his injury. Ethan’s pale blue eyes were fixed on Charles, and his fists were clenched. Charles broke eye contact first, shaking his head in frustration.

‘Father is coming for dinner tonight; I’ll tell him about my decision.’

‘You know as well as I do, that your father hasn’t got the influence he used to have. There’s also a lot more at stake now,’ Ethan said calmly.

‘Exactly, that’s why I want to, no let me rephrase that, need to tell my wife. And quite frankly, I don’t care anymore about any of your reasons. It’s my company, my wife and my life. Without my cooperation, the whole operation would fall apart. And don’t tell me you would get Kate to carry on against my will. I promise you, she won’t because she agrees with me on the issue.’

‘Leave Kate out of this! If she has to, she’ll do as she’s told,’ Ethan snapped.

‘Are you sure about that? I think you’re underestimating her.’

Ethan didn’t argue the point. In his usual fashion, he shared little of his inner thoughts.

When Charles spoke again, his voice was more conciliatory. ‘Look, Ethan, times have changed. I can understand Father having outdated views on females, but you? For heaven’s sake, we’re living in the twenty-first century. Hasn’t Kate shown you that females can hold their own and think for themselves?’

‘Yes, she’s shown me all right. She’s also shown me that they’re more emotionally vulnerable than men. It seems you’ve forgotten the reason why Kate nearly died five years ago.’

‘Oh, come on. Anyone in her position would have done the same thing.’

‘Nonsense! You don’t place yourself in the path of a bullet unless you’re trying to protect someone you care about. On top of it, the bastard shouldn’t have needed protection.’

‘It wasn’t Kate’s fault that no one knew he was an undercover cop. Really Ethan, start giving your sister some credit for the superb job she’s doing. Showing her a little more trust wouldn’t kill you.’

Nina was confused. She’d been told that Kate had been seriously injured several months before her marriage to Charles, but she’d assumed Kate had been involved in a car accident. Now Ethan was saying Kate had been shot. And what on earth was SIU? She craned her neck to hear better. Their conversation confirmed her suspicion that the family was hiding something from her. And Charles? He knew about it and was probably involved. But what was it?

‘While we’re on the subject of love and trust, do you know that your wife has been spending a lot of time in Harry’s surgery?’ Ethan’s voice cut through the silence.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Charles said. ‘Are you having Nina followed?’

‘No, I’m not. All I’m asking is, are you absolutely sure that you can trust her?’

It took all of Nina’s self-control not to storm into the next room and slap Ethan’s face.

‘I’d trust Nina with my life and how dare you question her loyalty? Have you considered that she may have been there to visit Alana who, as you well know, shares the surgery with Harry?’

Ethan ignored his outburst and said calmly, ‘I hear what you’re saying, Charles, but would you still believe she was there to visit her friend if I told you that by pure chance, I saw her entering the surgery at seven on a Sunday morning about six weeks ago. And, before you attempt to explain it away, let me also tell you that on that day Alana and Harry were away on holiday. So, what was she doing at their rooms?’

Nina drew a short, sharp breath. It was the same morning a courier knocked her over in Wimpole Street, directly in front of Angel. She couldn’t believe that Ethan had actually seen her entering Alana’s building. But then she’d been in such a state that she could have walked straight past him without knowing it.

‘I see I’ve touched on a sensitive subject.’

‘I can—’

‘Quiet! What was that?’

‘What was what? Ethan, don’t try to avoid the issue now.’

‘Shhhh, I heard something. Are you sure Nina’s left?’

Nina had also heard the noise. The sound had come from the stairs leading to Moses’s flat below. Panicked, she looked for somewhere to hide, but the hallway offered few obvious places. With her heart pounding in her chest, she crossed the hall and hid behind the door in the lounge.

She heard Ethan speak, ‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Sorry, boss.’ Moses’s deep voice resonated through the room. ‘You left your phone and keys downstairs. The Home Office phoned. They want to bring your meeting forward.’

‘All right, tell them I’ll be there in half an hour.’

Nina’s body tensed as she waited for Moses to walk past her. Nothing happened. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but then she heard Charles’s raised voice once again.

‘Ethan, you can’t do that. If you don’t trust Nina, at least trust my integrity.’

She recoiled when she heard Ethan reply. Now he was much closer to her hiding place.

‘Charles, give me another month then I’ll clear it with the agency.’

‘No, I’ve waited five years. I think that’s long enough.’

‘I’m sorry, Charles, but if you continue to be obstinate, you won’t leave me with any other alternative.’

Nina had no idea what their argument was all about, but a few moments later it ended and she heard the front door open and close. Through a narrow opening in the doorway, she saw Charles scrunch up a sheet of paper and fling it down the hallway. In all the time she’d known her husband, she’d never seen him so furious. She waited a little longer before she exited the lounge. Nina grabbed her car keys from the hallstand and took one more look at Charles. He was sitting at the central kitchen counter, wolfing down the bamboo shoots she’d given him earlier. For the first time that morning, a hint of a smile spread across her face. On her way out, she picked up the crumpled piece of paper and stuffed it into her jacket pocket.