Guy Fawkes Day
Page 79
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‘My God,’ the Home Secretary screamed via the live link with Whitehall. ‘We can't just let this bloke beam his accusations out to a mass audience like some mass-media Che Guevara, broadcasting revolution to the whole world. He's already publicly named James McPherson and Douglas Easterby and now this ridiculous, so-called law-making. Is he suffering from some sort of advanced megalomaniacal psychosis?’
‘I think that’s exactly what he predicted you’d think of him,’ Clayton scoffed, but the pleasure he would normally have felt in snubbing his so-called master and betters was severely diminished by a tension in the gut that would not go away. Not that they didn’t deserve all the egg that Robbie had thrown on their collective faces with that broadcast of his. Hadn’t he warned them what would happen if they allowed Robbie his interview? No point in giving this crowd the benefit of his mind again. Instead, he leant back in his chair while Dinsdale, MacSween and Assistant Commissioner Selby, the head of Scotland Yard anti-terrorist squad, gave the Home Secretary their updated contingency reports.
‘OK then, gentlemen,’ the Home Secretary huffed, stroking the swatches of grey that were just beginning to sprout around his ears, ‘the Prime Minister would like us all to meet again at Downing Street in half an hour to review all our options, including how we should handle all further requests for media access. Anyone any problems with that?’
Clayton sensed his moment:
‘Actually, sir, if I could be allowed a little leeway with the timing of the meeting, I have a proposal that may well help.’
The raised eyebrows all round the tabled invited Clayton on.
‘I think it would be worth a go if I volunteered to walk across the road and meet Robbie myself.’
‘Robbie?’
‘Bailey, or Omar Al Ajnabi, as he now calls himself,’ Clayton added irritably.
‘And what good what that do, Max?’ the Home Secretary frowned.
‘I might be able to cut us a better deal.’
The Home Secretary looked wistfully at Clayton.
‘Any kind of deal would be a start. I don’t see why not. Has anyone else got any objections?’
‘Not an objection as such, Sir,’ Dinsdale cut in. ‘But I should point out that we haven’t been able to establish any sort of connection with anyone inside Parliament since the journalist and cameramen returned from the interview. Phone calls, appeals through the megaphone – all have gone unanswered.’
‘Well keep trying,’ the Home Secretary snapped. ‘But even if you do manage to contact them, I don’t see what further harm we can do ourselves by simply sending Max over. How about the journalist and the camera crew? Were they able to give you anything to go on?’
‘Very little so far,’ Dinsdale replied. ‘But MI5 and MI6 are interviewing the journalist fellow right now. As that reporter said on the broadcast, he’s met this Bailey or Al-Ajnabi fellow before. Apparently Max says there’s some English girl, an Oxford student, mixed up in at as well. We’re going to pull her in shortly, too.’