Angie deliberated long and hard. It would be easy to travel to Spain, tell Davy the score, and run. Unfortunately, that would make Davy a fugitive. There had to be an alternative. Harry had yet to contact her; there was no one else she could trust. Why she thought of Janice Porter, she had no idea. The woman knew a lot about Davy, and maybe with her connections, she could suggest something.
At dawn the following morning, Angie drove to Southampton. The card Janice had given her a few weeks before in her purse; her only hope, it would not be a wasted journey. Luck favours the brave and, by chance, the traffic gridlocked on approaching the middle of Southampton. Frustrated, she glanced left and right and saw the Southampton Gazette offices. She wasted a further fifteen minutes locating a car park. After a brisk walk, she entered the building. She prayed Janice would be there. At the reception, they asked her to take a seat and wait while they contacted Janice.
"Hi, Angie. I didn't expect to see you again. Anyway, I thought it might be better if we went and had lunch, rather than talk in my office. There's a little cafe close to the marina. The food's good, and as it's a warm day, we can sit outside."
Angie smiled. "Sounds great."
It took five minutes to stroll to the waterfront. The lunchtime rush had yet to begin, and the outside tables were empty. They sat overlooking the marina; the sounds of wire rigging rattling against aluminium masts, together with the lapping of the waves against a pebbled shore, produced a peaceful ambience.
They ordered two coffees and a selection of sandwiches. Janice opened the conversation. "You've travelled a long way. Why?"
Angie remained silent as the young female server placed their order on the table. When no one could overhear, she said. "I needed someone to share a confidence."
"And why would you want that?"
She hesitated. "I'm a Chief Inspector of Police. My work depends on the priority at the time. You could say we undertake the jobs no one else wants. It's undercover work, and you will not find my name on any police files."
Janice smiled. "I guessed as much. Where does Davy fit into the system?"
She described Davy's way of life from the moment he arrived at the Centre to the present. She explained every detail, no matter how small, knowing that she was breaking the Official Secrets Act.
Janice listened intently. "A difficult situation, and you can't hide the fact you love him?"
Blushing, she acknowledged. "Only another woman would notice."
"Are you sure the system promised him a clean bill of health when this was over?"
Angie sighed. "Well, in our line of work, it happens a lot. It's the adage: poacher turned gamekeeper. You'd be amazed who's worked with us. They could be living next door, and you'd never know. The system gives them a new identity and financial help, and after that, it's up to them. Davy is an unauthorised asset and, therefore, doesn't exist. When it's all over, there won't be many vultures fighting for what's left."
"This boss of yours is a right bastard, isn't he?"
"He's a strange animal. A control freak. The circus ringmaster."
Time was getting on, and the cafe was busy. Janice asked the inevitable question: "So, what do you want?"
"Can you help me get him out?"
Janice frowned. "Harman-Smith has already made my life difficult. How long have we got before the shit hits the fan?"
Angie shrugged. "I don't know. Nevertheless, Davy should be contacting me soon. There's something else: Harman-Smith is planning to close this operation down. He believes it's gone as far as it can."
