Chapter 47
Hester Flynt was in her eighties but curiously modern in the way she liked to work.
After Poe had called and ascertained that she wouldn’t copy the tattoo photographs, wouldn’t share the tattoo photographs, wouldn’t talk about the tattoo photographs, Bradshaw sent them via an encrypted email.
An hour later, Hester sent a Zoom link. The subject line said, We need to talk.
Bradshaw didn’t like Zoom. She said the company’s claim that their meetings were end-to-end encrypted wasn’t accurate.
Their employees had technical access to the meetings so they could collect IP addresses and device details.
It meant that even if Hester kept quiet about who she’d spoken to, a determined third party would be able to identify her through Zoom’s data.
Instead, she sent Hester a link to the video communication system she used when she was talking to Alastor Locke.
She clicked the ‘host meeting’ button. Hester joined the waiting room and Bradshaw let her enter.
For someone who dressed like an ageing, sockless beatnik, Hester was a formidable-looking woman.
She was thin but not delicate. Steely with piercing green eyes.
A nose you could have used to split kindling.
Her long grey hair went down to her waist. Half-moon spectacles hung from a leather strap.
She was sucking on a thin cheroot like she was in a spaghetti western.
She looked unsettled. As though she’d seen something she didn’t like.
‘You Mr Poe?’ she said.
Poe confirmed he was.
‘But you don’t like the honorific?’
‘I’m used to Poe.’
Hester nodded. ‘Eric says I can talk freely in front of you,’ she continued. ‘I don’t know the woman next to you, though, and unless it’s bring-your-daughter-to-work day, I don’t understand why there’s a child in the room.’
‘Hey, screw you, old lady,’ Esmerée said.
‘The woman is Tilly Bradshaw, and she has higher clearance than anyone else on this call, and the girl is—’
‘I can assure you she doesn’t have higher clearance than me, Poe.’
‘I am authorised to receive and disseminate intelligence all the way up to exceptionally controlled intelligence. You are authorised to receive but not disseminate top-secret intelligence. My security clearance is therefore seven levels above yours, Hester Flynt.’
Hester crossed her arms, suspicious. ‘I’ve never heard of exceptionally controlled intelligence, Miss Bradshaw. Given what I’ve been involved with over the years, I find that highly suspicious.’
‘Only people authorised to receive exceptionally controlled intelligence know there is such a thing as exceptionally controlled intelligence. The only reason I can even tell you this classification exists is because you are authorised to receive limited top-secret intelligence. But as you are not authorised to disseminate top-secret intelligence, it will be a breach of the Official Secrets Act if you tell anyone else that this security classification exists.’
‘What about the kid? Does she have this secret security classification?’
‘I’m staying, old lady.’
Hester leaned into the screen. ‘She’s a feisty one, Poe.’
Poe nodded. ‘They both are,’ he said. ‘And trust me, Hester, only people who need to be on this call are on this call. I can get a senior member of the security service to vouch for Tilly if you want, but all we’d be doing is wasting time.’
Hester shrugged. ‘Eric did say I could trust you. That means I’ll have to trust the people you trust.’
Esmerée’s trick hand started thumping the table with the flat of her fist. Bradshaw picked up her laptop until it subsided. It lasted ten seconds. Esmerée grabbed her alien right hand with her non-alien left hand and wrestled it into submission. Poe had seen it so often now it barely registered.
‘Stupid freaking hand,’ she muttered when it was over.
Hester stared at her, astonished. ‘What the heck?’
‘Best not to ask,’ Poe said. ‘Now, you requested this meeting. I take it you know something we don’t?’
Hester glanced at Esmerée again, then nodded. ‘First I need to thank you, Poe.’
‘You do? Why?’
‘Because I thought I’d never have the privilege of seeing this man’s work again.’