I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

have the right pass you can, in legal terms, wander in and out of the UK all day long.
    And I swear, BAA must have acres of footage of me wandering around being totally lost in the bowels of the system.
    We waited in silence for my bag, then walked out to the car park, equally quiet. Luke stopped by his Vectra, and I shook my head.
    “Might as well get mine out of here as well,” I said. “I’ll see you there.”
    I walked down to Ted, incredibly relieved to see him again, and sat there for a few moments, feeling surreal.
    So. I’d just done another handful of things that were not totally legal and, apparently, got away with them. I’d been somewhere exotic and beautiful. I’d kissed a total stranger in an unknown place. I’d taken photographs of documents in a suspect’s room.
    Was I like a great spy, or what?
    Alexa wasn’t there when I walked into the office, but Luke was standing talking to One.
    “Ah,” said my boss. “How was your trip?”
    I looked between them cautiously. “Okay,” I said. “Unplanned and exhausting, but okay.”
    “You found the shops,” Luke said. “It can’t have been that bad.”
    I glared at him. One laughed.
    “It was admirable of you to pursue your quarry so far,” he said. “We got your pictures. For reference, next time send them to my e-mail address—” he started looking around Alexa’s desk, “—I’ll write it down for you…”
    “I’ll just put it in my phone directory?” I offered gently, and he nodded.
    “Ah yes. Much more sensible. It’s [email protected].”
    I blinked at him.
    “1995,” he explained, “when GoldenEye came out. That’s my favourite.”
    I blinked again, nodded and inputted the address. Was there anything about this place I was ever going to understand?
    I could see Luke was nearly smiling, and I avoided his gaze. “Were they useful?” I asked. “The pictures?”
    “Inasmuch as they told us he wasn’t the big man in this,” One said. “David Wright is something of a pawn, I fear.”
    “A pawn in what?” I asked. “What is going on here? No one—” I glared at Luke, “—ever tells me anything.”
    “That’s because there’s not always a lot to tell,” One said, going into his office and motioning for me to follow. “Most of this job is pure instinct, Sophie. I’ve been watching you—” How? How had he been watching me? “—and I can see you work on instinct, too.”
    Well, of course. Got to trust your instincts. Feminine intuition and all that.
    “She certainly doesn’t work on logic,” murmured Luke from behind me, and I scowled. I hadn’t even realised he’d come in. So much for instinct.
    One was seated at his desk. “What we have so far is this,” he said, looking up at me, and I tried to look alert and instinctive. “You’ve noticed that a lot of Ace planes have been having technical problems recently? That there have been delays, that passenger numbers haven’t been quite what they usually are?”
    I shrugged. “Well, yes, things have been easier…”
    “Airline profits have gone down drastically in the last few months,” One went on, looking at some figures on his desk. “The company’s losses are in millions. After September eleventh, of course, things took a bit of a dive but all the low-cost airlines rallied through.”
    This was true. A lot of the larger airlines had pulled out of Stansted, leaving it to holiday carriers like Air 2000 and the likes of Ace, Ryanair and Easyjet. For some reason, people didn’t seem as afraid of terrorist attacks when they’d only paid fifty quid for their ticket.
    “Ace was doing very well, making a lot of money. Now it’s a PLC, of course, anyone can have a share of that money, but recently the shares have been going down in value. All these delays, inconsistencies, a lot of complaints have hit the news and there’s been very little to counter that. David Wright has made no secret of the fact that he’s interested in Ace in a big way. He already has a lot of shares in the company, but he’s looking to buy more.”
    “And with share prices dropping so suddenly you think something’s up,” I said. “You think he’s sabotaging the airline so he can get it cheaper.” Clever bastard.
    “Bingo,” One said.
    “But,” I said, “he’s not the one in charge of it all?”
    “No. Wrightbank is owned by David Wright, but not controlled by him. Insiders have long speculated there’s someone else pulling his strings, but no