by Matt Johnson
‘It’s a listening device?’ I demanded.
‘A Bowland Technics A700X.’
‘That’s pretty specific.’
‘It should be. I put in a requisition for a few of these babies not too long ago. It was turned down on account of their cost.’
‘Expensive?’
‘Very. So much so that they aren’t commonly used. You can get much cheaper products that do the same job, well nearly. Like I said, these have a great range, fantastic sound quality and they don’t rely on battery power.’
‘So whoever planted it … they’re not from the Met?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’ Peter shrugged and shook his head. ‘We’ve had similar devices on trial occasionally but, to the best of my knowledge, only the Arabs and the Yanks use these. Not even our intelligence services can justify the cost.’
‘Intelligence services? You mean it isn’t a police-used device?’
‘Smart money would be on the CIA or similar.’ He hesitated for a moment, frowning. ‘That said, there were a few sent out as samples to MI5 and Six. But like I said, after field tests, I think they decided not to buy them. The Met may have looked at them but we don’t use them.’
‘So … say for argument’s sake it was found in a house here in the capital, it’s possible it might be someone within our own Security Services who planted it?’
He smirked. ‘You’d have to ask them, Finlay. It has a serial number but you’ll need better eyes than mine to read it. Trouble is, as soon as you start asking where it came from, sure as eggs are eggs the department that placed it will be tipped off.’
‘How come?’
‘MI5 operate like us in many ways. They have stores, logistics, admin … just like any large organisation.’ He handed the tiny device back to me. ‘Expensive stuff like this has to be accounted for. There’ll be a record of who it’s booked out to … or there should be.’
‘Unless someone reported it as lost or destroyed,’ I said, wryly.
The door opened. It was Mike Rogers and Sue was with him. Carefully, making sure that my hand was hidden by my body, I slipped the bug back into my jacket pocket and pulled myself together.
‘Did we miss something?’ Mike asked.
I didn’t answer. Peter turned away and, with Mike’s help, continued his work. I was going to have to make a couple of calls to see what I could find out about the listening device. The first would be to an old friend, Toni Fellowes.
‘You did a great job,’ said Sue, extending her hand to me.
Mike raised an eyebrow and winked at me. I offered my thanks and headed for the control room. It was time to see about arranging a lift home and to give some thought as to how I might be able to help Doug Powell.
Chapter 12
I secured a lift back to Hertfordshire courtesy of an early-turn PC who had ended his shift and was heading home to Stevenage. We chatted briefly about what had happened but, as he didn’t really know Doug Powell and I couldn’t say much about the negotiation, our conversation soon dried up.
By the time we reached my car, the weather had changed for the worse with heavy rain and a squally wind. It put paid to any thoughts I might have had to take Becky out on another walk.
As soon as I arrived home, I rang Kevin to update him on my news about the listening device. Not surprisingly, he hadn’t wasted any time getting in touch with Hereford. They’d put him in touch with one of the lads, now retired, who ran a London-based security company. He’d been happy to help Kevin straight away. His house had already been swept for any lurking devices and had been declared clear. The bug had been a one-off.
Which was a little surprising. Not that I was particularly experienced at covert surveillance, but even I knew that one device wasn’t enough to make that kind of operation effective. I’d done some work in Northern Ireland with Special Branch and one thing all such operations seemed to have in common was the placement of multiple sources of listening data. Bedrooms were a favourite but many an informal conversation around the dinner table had resulted in valuable information being overheard.
The expert who checked Kevin’s home had a couple of theories and, in the absence of any better ideas, we thought them quite feasible. Either the team tasked with installing the hardware had been disturbed before completing the job – which might also explain the chair out of place; or the surveillance was low key, perhaps speculative, to be followed up if the device revealed anything interesting. But that still didn’t explain who had installed it or why.
On the Monday, I rose early, beat the rush hour, and was at my desk by seven-thirty. The office was quiet. Most people would start to drift in from about eight.
I knew Toni Fellowes was normally an early starter and was just about to lift the telephone to tell her the news about Brian McNeil when Bill Grahamslaw popped his head through the open door. It wasn’t often that the Commander of the Anti-Terrorist Squad ventured into our corridor, and I guessed he might be looking for me.
I was right. ‘Got a minute, Finlay?’ he asked.
‘Always,’ I smiled. Despite being many ranks above me, Grahamslaw had become a friend. We didn’t socialise together – I’d heard he always kept his work and home life separate – but within the working environment we always got along extremely well. I was in his debt over what had happened a year previously. He knew it but he had never laboured the point. As John Southern had mentioned at Kentish Town, there were some who would have happily seen me and Kevin prosecuted, even sent to prison, but Grahamslaw had stuck to his word, going out on a limb to make sure that didn’t happen.
Perched on the end of my desk, on the small and only available space clear of my usual clutter of papers, pens and mugs of half-consumed tea, the Commander looked around the office. Satisfied we were alone, he grunted reassuringly. ‘Looks like we’re the early birds today,’ he said.
I checked my watch. ‘Not for long. Most of us are in before eight these days. Nobody likes the tube trains, especially on a Monday.’
‘True enough. How are you coping with the journey? You used to have some problems with the crowds, I recall?’
I sat back in my chair and must have given my thoughts away through my screwed-up face.
‘No better then?’ he said.
‘Not perfect, no. But much better than it was a few months ago. I try to avoid the major rush and, if there’s a full carriage, I tend to wait for the next train or try and find one with more space.’
Grahamslaw folded his arms, gently sucking his teeth. He was building up to something, I sensed it. ‘I don’t blame you. I hate the bloody things and I haven’t had half the problems you’ve had.’
‘Can I make you a brew?’ I asked.
He laughed briefly, nodding his head towards the collection of mugs that adorned my desk. ‘Do you ever finish one?’
I smiled. ‘Family trait. I like my tea hot, as it cools down I tend to abandon it.’
‘Likewise … but I didn’t come here to talk about how we like our tea. Before anyone else comes in, I want a quick chat about what happened at Kentish Town over the weekend.’
I’d guessed right. ‘That reached you quickly,’ I said. ‘What can I tell you?’
‘Well, I’m not going to beat around the bush so here it is. I’ve had two reports about you land on my desk this morning. One is from the local Chief Super, and it couldn’t be more glowing. Says you responded promptly to a call-out from home and that you did a fantastic job persuading the hostage-taker to surrender.’
‘Did he tell you what happened … and that the hostage-taker was a PC?’ I asked.
‘He did … and he also explained the circumstances. From what he says, you’ll no doubt be in line for a commendation of some kind.’
‘I’d rather see the PC getting help for his problems. What’s in the second report?’
‘It’s from Complaints Branch. One of their Superintendents claims you were obstructive and that you deliberately blocked a rapid entry he had
authorised.’
‘If recognising that the PC was about to surrender and standing in front of the door to prevent an almighty cock-up is being obstructive, then I guess I’m guilty. But I’d be more than happy to discuss it with Mr Mellor, if that’s what he wants?’
‘You know Jim Mellor, then?’
‘Not really. Saturday was the first time we’ve crossed paths. But there were several at the scene who seemed quite keen to warn me about him.’
‘Well, you can add me to that list, Finlay. Mellor is one of a kind, a man with no friends to speak of and with a single-minded determination to do what he thinks is right.’
‘You know him better than me then.’
From the corridor, I heard the lift doors opening. Grahamslaw paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to see if we were about to be disturbed. From some distance away, we heard a door open and close. We had a few moments more.
‘I do … and you can trust me when I say that his report will be filed in my office, never to see the light of day again. I can deal with the likes of Jim Mellor. But a word to the wise: be careful of him and, if you can, try and keep off his radar. He’s like a dog with a bone if he has it in for you.’
‘From what I was told at Kentish Town, I think it’s too late. He said something about last year, along the lines that Kevin Jones and I should have been hung out to dry.’
Grahamslaw scowled. ‘Did he now? Well, that kind of explains his report and how it found its way to my desk so quickly.’
‘I nearly lost it with him.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘We had a bit of an altercation in the corridor when I tried to speak to him about the PC who’d taken the hostage.’
‘What happened?’
‘In hindsight, I think he was trying to provoke me. It very nearly worked. I had a rush of red mist and, well, let’s just say I nearly did something I would have regretted.’
‘I can guess,’ he replied. ‘So, how do you feel now?’
‘A bit bleak, to be honest. It unsettled me to think I might have a more sensitive trigger than when I was younger.’
‘We all have a temper, Finlay, and we all have our buttons. Maybe Mellor pressed one of yours?’
‘Yes, perhaps he did.’ I stood up, moved to the door and poked my head out into the corridor. All clear. Closing the door, I then reached into my jacket pocket.
‘There’s nothing I can do now about Mellor, but I appreciate the warning. In the meantime, can I show you something?’
‘Sure.’
I held out my hand, now open with the listening device resting on my palm.
‘Kevin found this in his house last week.’
He took a deep breath, but made no attempt to take the bug. ‘You realise what that is?’
‘I do … I asked one of the geeks at Kentish Town on Saturday if he could shed any light on it. It’s an expensive type that he thinks MI5 and the Met might have trialled some while ago but didn’t buy.’
‘Someone’s listening in on Kevin Jones, you figure?’
‘No other conclusion, really,’ I said.
‘And you’d like to know who?’
‘And why, of course.’
‘Would you like me to make some calls … see if I can help? There’d be a risk with that, though. Whoever placed it would likely realise you were trying to identify them.’
‘Would that be an issue?’
Grahamslaw thought for a moment before replying. ‘Depends who that person is, or what department. It might well be the Security Services.’
‘Keeping an eye on us, you mean?’
‘It’s possible. It’s the kind of thing I might do in the circumstances. You could ask Ms Fellowes, possibly? As your MI5 liaison, she ought to know if someone in her service is monitoring Kevin.’
‘What you’re saying means you think MI5 might also be keeping a watching brief on me as well?’
‘It’s likely. Like I said, it’s what I might do if I were them. Do you want me to ask her?’
‘Would you?’ I asked.
‘I could, but it might come better from you. Maybe an informal, friendly approach might work better than going through official channels?’
I thought for a moment, and as I did so, the narrow window alongside the office door revealed another figure walking quickly along the corridor.
‘I agree, it might.’
Grahamslaw was just about to respond when the door opened. It was Nina Brasov. The Commander and I both looked towards her.
He turned back to me. ‘Anyway … as I was saying … great work. The lead negotiator was well impressed and has suggested you put your name forward to do the International Hostage Course. I’m happy to go along with that if you are.’
Nina said nothing, just winked at me and then headed across the office to hang up her coat.
‘I’ll have a think,’ I said.
‘It would help for the next promotion board.’
‘What can I say?’ I turned to where Nina was pulling a chair up to her desk.
‘Go for it,’ she said. ‘You get to travel to places where British subjects get themselves kidnapped.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ I said, sarcastically.
‘He’ll do it, guv,’ she said to our Commander.
‘OK,’ he replied. ‘That’s confirmed then. I’ll put you down for the next available course … and email me the details of that car part. I’ll see if I can find a stockist.’
Chapter 13
Some considerable time had now passed since I’d last ventured into the small suite Toni Fellowes occupied with her team. Her promotion meant spending more time at the Security Services headquarters at Thames House, but her open-plan office at New Scotland Yard appeared to remain her favoured workplace. We’d crossed paths a couple of times in the lifts and on several occasions I had seen her arriving at or leaving Bill Grahamslaw’s office, but we’d not spoken for some time. So, it was with some trepidation that I pressed the buzzer that would allow me entry to one of the most secure sections of the New Scotland Yard corridors. Once inside, I had a question to ask. Did keeping an eye on me and Kevin include spying on us?
The door opened, Toni’s assistant, Nell, waved hello from her desk, and I waited patiently while her boss finished a telephone call.
A few moments later Toni hung up the phone, swung around in her chair and indicated that I should use the seat next to her.
‘I think I’ve found someone you were looking for earlier this year,’ I said.
She glanced across at Nell, who was, once again, busy at her keyboard. ‘You can speak freely, Finlay.’
‘OK, if you’re sure. I picked up a lead on Brian McNeil, one of the missing Increment members.’
‘How so?’
‘Weirdest thing. I did a hostage negotiation over the weekend. The perp had asked for me and said it was because of a recent recommendation by McNeil.’
‘A recommendation?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He had told the lad to ask for me if he ever got into bother.’
‘Really? How recent?’
‘A couple of weeks.’
‘He’s resurfaced?’
‘Looks that way. I hoped to find out where he is but the negotiation was being recorded.’
‘You did the right thing,’ Toni paused, as if mulling things over in her mind. ‘What do you think, Nell?’ she added, without turning away from me.
Nell stopped typing. ‘He ought to be warned, probably. Your call.’
I turned to Toni. ‘I thought you said the hounds were called off once the Al Anfal document was destroyed?’
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘What Nell’s saying is we should make sure this McNeil character doesn’t change that situation.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We don’t do anything, Finlay. I’ll take care of it. Just leave me a note with everything you know and I’ll follow it up.’
I nodded in agreement and reached into my poc
ket for the listening device. ‘Can I ask you about this?’ I said, as I held it out for her to see.
‘It’s a surveillance bug,’ she replied, almost dismissively.
‘It was in Kevin’s house.’
‘And your point is?’
‘We’d like to know how it got there.’
‘And you expect me to find out?’
For a moment, I was taken aback by the apparent scorn in Toni’s voice. Across the opposite side of the office, I noticed Nell raise her eyebrows and then turn away from us as she slipped a set of headphones over her ears.
I placed the bug on the desk. ‘Sorry, Toni,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t suggesting it was you that planted it. I just wanted to know if you knew anything.’
‘What bloody difference does that make, Finlay? You coppers are all the same, suspicious to the core. It’s perfectly clear you either think I had it planted or that I knew it was there.’
I took a deep breath. I’d been clumsy, I knew it. But I also knew there could be another explanation. I’d seen the kind of reaction Toni was showing on many occasions when a suspect is unexpectedly confronted with evidence that appears to implicate them. Angry denial – emphasising a sense of grievance – is actually a mask to hide guilt. In Toni’s case, I still wasn’t sure, but for now I was prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt.
‘OK, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.’ I glanced down at the desk to where the listening device sat untouched. ‘Kevin said himself he doesn’t think it was you. Anyway, if we did, do you think I’d be asking you now?’
‘I have no reason whatsoever to be bugging Kevin’s home, Finlay, none at all.’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry if it sounded like an accusation. Kevin also said some furniture was moved and we thought that a wee bit sloppy for any branch of the Security Service.’
Toni raised her hands, closed her eyes momentarily, and in a moment regained her composition. ‘No, I’m sorry, Finlay,’ she answered. ‘You didn’t deserve that, especially after all you’ve been through. You say Kevin found it in his house?’