Guy Fawkes Day

by KJ Griffin

  Chapter 38: Downing Street 7:15 p.m.

  Clayton fell silent. The other men in the room were staring at him in shocked silence. Clayton recognized Knox, Dinsdale and MacSween, the other suits must have been civil service types. Only the faintest of rumbles from the back of Knox's throat disturbed a silence that was amplified by the heavy curtains and the starchy, yesteryear décor of the Downing Street room.

  The Home Secretary was the first to stir, moving from his brown leather armchair to take position by the bureau next to the window. Clayton knew that with the Prime Minister out of the country, this was largely going to be the Home Secretary’s own show.

  ‘So you're saying that this Ramli terrorist holding up the Commons is really an old Oxford friend of yours, Max?’

  ‘That's right,’ Clayton confirmed edgily.

  ‘Incredible! What an absolutely enormous bloody mess!’

  MacSween was next to spring to his feet.

  ‘And what will he want, after this interview he's asked for, this Robert Bailey friend of yours?’

  ‘Former friend,’ Clayton corrected, smiling malevolently at the red warts on the Special Branch chief's cheek as if he could pop them with his revelations. ‘He's after revenge.’

  ‘Revenge?’

  ‘For the court martial I told you about.’

  ‘He's after the judges? Do we know who they were?’ the Home Secretary asked.

  Clayton sneered.

  ‘Not the judges. He's after the real culprits. The people that put him away. It was a stitch-up job, you see. Army cover-up.’

  The Home Secretary turned sharply around to face Clayton.

  ‘The Falls Road Massacre enquiry a cover-up? Do you realize what you're saying, Max?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What evidence is there of a cover-up?’ Dinsdale asked from his position on the brown leather sofa facing the bureau.

  Clayton snorted dismissively.

  ‘I'd say the best evidence is what's happening right now in the Commons. And I think the whole world is about to find out just who was really responsible for the Falls Road Massacre. Amongst other things.’

  ‘You mean you believe your terrorist friend rather than the verdict of the Army court martial?’ the Home Secretary asked in astonishment.

  ‘Oh yes, I wouldn’t doubt Robbie about any of that,’ Clayton sighed. ‘It’s just a question of….

  And he broke off looking away. For once Clayton felt no pleasure in the stony-faced consternation around him; the silence was welcome relief. Only Knox was audible, experimenting with a range of newly unveiled guttural noises.

  ‘So why didn't you speak up years ago about the court martial, Max?’ the Home Secretary asked eventually, ‘before this old pal of yours, this ex-para or Ramli prince or whoever he is, came back here to unleash hell and fury on the seat of our Government? After all, you seem to be very much on his side.’

  Clayton felt the tension deep down in his stomach again and he pulled an antacid pill from his pocket which he took without water.

  ‘We fell out. Badly.’

  ‘About the court martial?’ the Home Secretary asked.

  Clayton swallowed. Glancing straight ahead in the large mirror behind Dinsdale's sofa he could see that his face looked sallow and taut.

  ‘No. It was personal. Very personal.’

  He caught Knox and Dinsdale exchanging confused looks before MacSween interrupted.

  ‘Hold on a minute, Max. Let's just get one thing straight. You said this Bailey character would be looking for revenge against the people he thought were really responsible for the Falls Road fiasco. So who are we talking about? Can you give us names?’

  ‘Three men, one of whom has just been executed in Ramliyya.’

  ‘Crikey, that BDS fellow in Ramliyya?’ Knox spluttered.

  ‘That's right. Name of Phil Goss, Sergeant Phil Goss. He was the first to open fire in the Falls Road.’

  ‘And the other two?’ MacSween continued.

  ‘Douglas Easterby, our chairman of BDS, is one of them. It was the then Major Easterby who gave the order to fire.’

  ‘That wasn't what came out in the enquiry,’ the Home Secretary snapped.

  ‘No, it wasn't, thanks to the efforts of Easterby's CO, the man who saw to it that the enquiry got the scapegoat he wanted it to have.’

  ‘And that man was?’

  ‘James McPherson.’

  ‘The Foreign Secretary? Good God! You can't be serious, Max!’

  ‘You can check with him yourself if you like, minister, but I think you'll find that will be rather difficult right now.’

  ‘You mean James McPherson is among the hostages in the Commons?’ Knox cottoned on.

  ‘I'd put an awful lot of money on it.’

  ‘And I think I can confirm that,’ said Dinsdale. ‘As far as I recall James McPherson's name was on the list of hostages I saw earlier.’

  The Home Secretary turned towards Clayton again.

  ‘Good God. So the seizure of the Parliament is really a revenge attack directed against James McPherson and Douglas Easterby?’

  ‘And against me,’ Clayton sighed heavily.

  ‘You, Max?’

  ‘That's right.’

  ‘But how does this terrorist propose getting at you and Douglas Easterby if he's trapped inside the Houses of Parliament?’ Knox interrupted, with a startled cough.

  ‘I suppose we'll soon find that out,’ said the Home Secretary, looking Clayton up and down. ‘Anyway, as far as Douglas Easterby is concerned, he has already been pilloried in the press over the execution in Ramliyya. I wonder if that is good enough payback for our Commons terrorist?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Clayton shrugged. ‘But I've got misgivings about granting this TV interview Bailey has asked for. I think we may well be digging ourselves a collective grave.’

  ‘You mean Bailey plans to use the interview to vindicate himself against Douglas Easterby, James McPherson, and possibly against you yourself, Max?’ the Home Secretary replied, looking slyly at Clayton. ‘I think we’d all agree we’ll be getting off lightly if that’s all he wants. Let him have his say on air then bang him up in jail and throw away the key.’

  Dinsdale sat up on the sofa nodding

  ‘Quite right, Sir, and in any case, we're in no position to refuse Bailey's request now. His outfit has already attacked two buildings with rocket launchers, caused sixteen separate bomb scares across the country and now claims to have Semtex devices set up all over Westminster. I don't think from what we have seen so far of this Bailey character that he will fail to respond if we don't agree to the TV interview.’

  ‘Has the interview been cleared with the BBC?’ the Home Secretary asked, almost casually.

  ‘Yes, we've spoken to them,’ said Dinsdale. "The camera team Bailey asked for has agreed to carry out the interview despite the personal risks. Frankly, I think the BBC is overjoyed to have been handed a world exclusive on a plate. They'll be able to sell on the rights and the follow on stories for millions.’

  ‘And Bailey also asked for a print journalist?’

  ‘Yes, we've contacted the Guardian but they haven't confirmed yet whether the chap Bailey asked for is willing and available.’

  ‘The Guardian?’ Knox sounded interested. ‘What's the reporter's name?’

  Dinsdale checked in his pocket notebook.

  ‘Darren Chapman.’

  ‘Crikey, Max, that’s the one. The same fellow who was invited to your chap's Oxford party?’

  Clayton nodded energetically. Another look at Robbie's Oxford guest list would likely help to solve several other riddles, he guessed.

  ‘So do you want this interview to go ahead or not?’ Clayton asked.

  His reward was a long pause while the Home Secretary fiddled pensively with the bridge of his silver-framed glasses.

  ‘What do we think, gentlemen?’ he asked finally, looking around the room for ideas. ‘Commissioner Dinsdale?’

 
; ‘We have no choice but to agree, sir.’

  ‘Graham?’

  Cough. Nod of agreement.

  ‘Superintendent MacSween?’

  "I'll have some of my men speak to the camera team and the journalist. They may well be able to uncover some valuable inside information that will help us in the planning of an armed response, if it comes to that, of course.’

  ‘Good. Thank you, Superintendent. Max, any further comments?’

  ‘If we are going to allow the interview to go ahead, I would like to speak to the Guardian journalist before he goes in.’

  ‘Very well. It's now 7:31. I'm going straight from here to join the emergency Cabinet meeting and I shall recommend that we accede to this initial demand for a TV interview. Provided my colleagues agree, we will speak again shortly Commissioner.’

  ‘Very good, sir,’ Dinsdale nodded. ‘My officers are establishing a control centre as we speak in the Guildhall, just across Parliament Square.’

  ‘OK. Then we will meet again later this evening.’