The Robert Finlay Trilogy

by Matt Johnson

  ‘Yes. That’s right, Ms Fellowes. And when I say “we”, I mean we as a Service.’

  ‘Well, what have I done to earn this honour, I wonder?’

  ‘It’s with regard to a recent enquiry of yours. The investigation into the death of a Mrs Sandra Beattie.’

  Mellor scowled. ‘What would that have to do with the Security Service? It was an internal matter involving an allegation against a serving police officer.’

  ‘PC Jones?’

  ‘Correct. His escape from custody only served to confirm his guilt, in my opinion. We would have caught up with him in due course … Ah, I’ve just figured out why you want to speak about it.’

  ‘Do enlighten me, Superintendent.’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious. Everyone knows that you people were in on the steps taken to protect Jones and Robert Finlay from being prosecuted last year.’

  ‘A decision you have an opinion on?’

  ‘Of course. No copper is above the law and those two got away with some serious transgressions. I knew they’d fall into my hands one day. It was just a question of time.’

  ‘So you say that no copper is above the law?’

  ‘Absolutely. And it’s the job of people like me to ensure that when they break it they are called to account.’

  ‘You take that job very seriously, it would appear.’

  ‘Damn right I do.’

  ‘Seriously enough to frame an innocent man?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Cops do though, don’t they? Noble cause corruption I believe it’s called, making sure the guilty get their comeuppance.’

  ‘You might very well think that, Ms Fellowes. I couldn’t possibly comment.’

  Toni smiled at the Superintendent’s use of fictional politician Francis Urquhart’s words. She paused as she did so, to give the impression she was contemplating something he’d had said or the skill of his response. It was a ruse, as she was about to play her ace.

  ‘Do you mind if I ask someone to join us?’ she asked. ‘I’d like you to meet them.’

  Mellor shrugged and glanced over his shoulder towards the door. ‘Sure, but I’m still not entirely sure why you wanted to discuss the Jones case. It’s dead and buried now after he was killed.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. Bear with me a moment.’ Toni picked up the telephone and dialled the extension number of the next-door office. From her seat, she could hear the phone ringing through the thin wall. It was answered after two rings. ‘Could you join us,’ she said, before hanging up.

  The jaw-dropped expression on Mellor’s face as he turned on his seat to face the door was something she knew would remain with her, possibly for life. For a fleeting second she almost laughed. As Kevin came and stood behind her, it even looked as if the Superintendent was in danger of passing out.

  ‘Superintendent Mellor … meet Harry Cole.’

  Mellor appeared to compose himself quickly as he responded without hesitation. ‘Just what the hell is going on here?’ he demanded. ‘Jones, I thought you were dead?’

  ‘PC Jones is no more,’ said Toni. ‘In fact, he never really was. Mr Cole is one of us, a long-serving and very loyal member of the Security Service.’

  ‘I … I’m not sure I follow. Are you saying there is no such…?’

  Toni interrupted him. ‘I’m saying that the man you tried to pin a murder on is actually a member of MI5, Superintendent. I’m saying that the gun you found in his car was his and that he was authorised to have it in his possession. I’m saying – and listen to this very carefully as I spell it out for you in as simple terms as my patience will allow – our officer using the name Kevin Jones did not kill Mrs Beattie.’

  ‘But the evidence pointed very clearly—’

  ‘The evidence?’

  ‘Yes. It was clear that you…’ He looked accusingly at Kevin. ‘It was clear you killed her.’

  ‘But you knew he hadn’t, Superintendent. You knew that our officer had been jumped by other men, rendered unconscious and that evidence had then been planted by others to implicate him.’

  ‘I knew nothing of the kind. There was no evidence at all to suggest anyone else was involved.’

  Kevin turned and walked towards the window. He was listening but knew to stay quiet. He was to leave the talking to Toni.

  ‘You knew, but you were happy to frame PC Jones for the murder.’

  Mellor started to stand. ‘This is ridiculous. I don’t know what kind of a game you’re playing here but I’m taking this straight to my superiors. Jones, Cole … whatever your name is. You killed that woman.’

  Toni pulled the top drawer of the desk open and withdrew a thin buff folder. ‘Would you do me the courtesy of looking at this before you leave us, Superintendent?’ She placed the top sheet from the folder on the far side of the desk so Mellor could read it easily.

  ‘What’s this?’ he demanded, angrily.

  ‘It’s a copy of a Complaints Branch register showing the issue of listening devices that were on trial this year. If you look carefully, you will see that two of the bugs are listed as being in your departmental stores.’

  Mellor leaned over the desk as he studied the document. Toni caught a whiff of stale breath and tobacco. ‘And your point is what?’

  ‘We found one of those devices in the house being used by our officer and the second in Mrs Beattie’s home.’

  ‘Ridiculous, I know nothing of that.’

  Toni took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps you should sit down?’ As Mellor returned to his seat, she reached further into the desk drawer and withdrew a small laptop computer. It was already turned on, and as she opened the screen it flickered into life.

  ‘Do you recognise this?’ she asked.

  Mellor looked confused. ‘Possibly … it’s a fairly common make and model.’

  ‘This particular one was found in the bedroom of your home – underneath the bed.’

  ‘You’ve been in my home? You’ve no right.’

  ‘We’ve every right, Superintendent. There are a number of statutory instruments – laws – giving us the authority we need when gathering evidence.’ Toni tapped the keyboard to trigger a recording to replay. ‘How long would you like to listen to this for? I’m certain you’ve heard it before. We were able to trace this laptop as the recipient of the transmitted signals from both the listening devices.’

  Mellor held up a hand. ‘OK, OK. What do you want?’

  Toni shrugged. ‘Perhaps an admission that no copper is above the law might be a good start?’

  ‘Very funny.’ Mellor shook his head. ‘We have an expression in the job: What goes around comes around. Jones got away with other crimes so I was having him for this one.’

  ‘Even if it meant ignoring evidence you knew exonerated him? Noble cause corruption I think we agreed it is called?’

  There was no response.

  ‘You heard the other voices in the recording. You heard the struggle and the sounds of a Taser. And you chose to ignore it because it didn’t fit with the case you were building.’

  ‘I’m leaving now.’

  ‘I think it best you hear me out, Superintendent,’ Toni continued. ‘And I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.’

  ‘You want a deal?’

  ‘You need a favour,’ Toni said, forcefully. ‘I have enough here to send you to prison for a long time. In return for keeping this under wraps I will require you to do a number of things.’

  ‘You want me as your pawn?’

  ‘I want you to appreciate the very serious position you find yourself in and how the Security Service is about to make you an offer you would be wise to consider. Now … shall we continue?’

  Mellor remained silent as she laid out her terms. Firstly, he would ensure the enquiry into Sandra Beattie would be closed with Chris Grady named as the killer. To that, he agreed quite easily, even though she noticed a look of some discomfort in his eyes on the one occasion Kevin turned away from the window. The second requirement, Toni ex
plained, was regarding Robert Finlay. Mellor was to ensure Finlay was reinstated to full duties with immediate effect and he was to be served with the necessary paperwork stating he was cleared of all suspicion of involvement in PC Jones’s escape and was no longer under investigation. Again, Mellor agreed.

  Finally, Toni outlined her third condition, which concerned PC Doug Powell from Kentish Town. ‘I want you to make sure Finlay’s promises to him are met in full,’ Toni said, firmly.

  ‘But he held a fellow officer at knife point, and then wasted all our time with that ridiculous demonstration on the roof of the section house.’

  Toni stared hard at Mellor, and within a few seconds he took a deep breath and then shook his head from side to side. ‘Very well,’ he said, submissively. ‘What do you need me to do?’

  ‘We don’t expect you to have him return to work, I think even we would agree that might be somewhat excessive. No, what we want you to do is make sure Powell isn’t prosecuted and he gets to retire on an ill-health pension.’

  ‘I’ll never get that past my bosses.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find a way, Superintendent.’

  Mellor huffed. He was beaten, and he knew it.

  Interview concluded, Toni arranged for one of the security team to see Mellor to the exit. Having Kevin do it was too much like rubbing salt into the wounds. He went quietly, without further argument and she noticed as he left the office that the spring in his step was now definitely missing.

  ‘Think he’ll cooperate,’ said Kevin, a few seconds after closing the door.

  ‘He will,’ said Toni, ‘Nell will be watching to make sure he does.’

  An hour later, Toni sat down, once again at her former work station at New Scotland Yard. Nell had been waiting for her and was anxious to know how the interview with Mellor had gone.

  ‘Really well, I think. He bluffed at first but when I pulled out his laptop that clinched it. He rolled over fairly easily. You did a great job.’

  ‘It was nothing. When he turned it on the tracking system did the work for me. It’s Stuart you should really thank, he went and retrieved it from under Mellor’s bed.’

  ‘Yes. Tell him thanks when you see him won’t you?’

  ‘Sure. To be honest, I think he got a bit of a thrill breaking into the home of a Complaints Branch Superintendent.’

  Toni laughed. ‘Yes, I bet he did.’

  ‘If I’m right, I think you also enjoyed putting Mellor through the ringer?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Yes, I did. We spend so much time reacting to events, it was nice to do something pro-active for a change. Did you manage to record it OK?’

  Her researcher winked and gave a thumbs-up. Job done.

  Chapter 68

  Bill headed back to the sofa and then sat quietly for several seconds as he ran his fingers up and down the stem of his wine glass. It seemed he needed a few moments to consider what Toni had been saying.

  ‘You think it’s for the best?’ he asked, finally.

  ‘Tonight really should be the last time, Bill. People are already talking.’

  ‘This flat will be empty without you.’

  ‘It will, but it’s not as if we’ll never see each other again.’ How many times had the ending of an affair seen those words used, she wondered?

  He half smiled. ‘One for the road,’ he said, ruefully.

  ‘Yes. One last evening together. Shall we enjoy the rest of the wine?’

  ‘And celebrate the end of this Howard Green chap?’

  ‘And the end of a year I would prefer to forget.’ Toni raised her glass and clinked it against his.

  ‘That saw you promoted and…’

  ‘Us getting together,’ she said, finishing his sentence.

  ‘You know, for all the awful things that have happened to Robert Finlay, I find myself envying him.’

  ‘How’s that?’ she asked.

  ‘For the life he’s had. He’s seen more things, lived far more, experienced the kind of adventure … more than many of us could even imagine.’

  ‘At a price, though?’

  ‘True. But look at him now. He’s settled, two kids and a wife he loves … and who clearly feels just as strongly for him. And look at me: no kids; failed marriage; and now you’re giving me my marching orders.’

  There was sadness in Bill’s voice, a sense of resignation she hadn’t detected before. As if the fire had gone from within him. ‘He’ll be OK now?’ she asked, tentatively, although her concerns were now less about Finlay than for the sad figure in front of her, sipping at his wine.

  ‘Men like Finlay are survivors,’ said Bill.

  ‘Howard Green’s game has ended reasonably well then?’ she said, a deliberately feigned hint of pride in her tone.

  ‘It has, I guess. Although maybe not for him, if what you were saying earlier is correct?’

  ‘It is. Green is history. With the exception of the Cristeas, all the agents and contacts he was responsible for handling have been reallocated.’

  ‘The Cristeas are an exception?’ said Bill.

  ‘An open sore that we hope to cauterise fairly soon, once we’ve figured out whether Howard was their only asset.’

  ‘Were the Cristeas the reason Maggie Price was killed?’

  ‘No, that was down to Howard. Her author, Chas Collins, was working on a sequel to the book he brought out last year which was going to blow the lid off Al Anfal. Mrs Price had the only copy of the manuscript.’

  ‘So another woman died to keep a secret? And what about the author?’

  ‘Dead. Howard’s people found him in Belgium, in a lock-up garage. I’ll spare you the details.’

  ‘And the MI5 officer who exposed Howard?’

  ‘Miles is already back at work,’ she replied, as a smile returned to her face. ‘He’s looking a bit worse for wear but he tells me that Occupational Health have given him a clean bill of health.’

  ‘All very tidy … So, tell me more about this dark web thing you used to sell the Al Anfal document.’

  ‘It was something Nell showed me. It’s the underworld of the internet and, not too surprisingly, it has auction sites that can be used to sell things in a way that don’t identify the seller.’

  ‘You’re confident nobody will ever know it was you that sold it? I’m rather too fond of you to contemplate the idea of you turning up in a body bag one day.’

  Toni felt a sudden rush of regret at what she had said earlier. Was it too late, she wondered? She loved his wit, his intellect, how she felt so at ease in his company. And he cared for her, in a way that she found comforting. ‘That’s nice of you, but don’t worry. The strategic value of the document was severely compromised the moment we found another copy for sale. A decision was made to leak it in a way that, at least, did some good for those two young boys. And yes,’ she added, ‘I’m certain I can’t be traced.’

  ‘And Nell says these sites are starting to be used by terrorists, even here in the UK?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s certain. She only used to see things like recreational drugs and stolen gear for sale, but, from what she tells me, the sites are now seeing weapons being listed.’

  ‘Firearms?’

  ‘Everything you can imagine, from guns to grenades.’

  ‘That’s really quite scary,’ he said. ‘I’m amazed our techie boys have never mentioned it to us.’

  ‘Perhaps they don’t know about it yet? Nell has done a report that will be on its way to you soon.’

  ‘Good, thanks. So, where does this leave us?’

  ‘Friends.’ She raised her glass again, as if to toast her proposal.

  Bill looked defeated, in need of a lift. In many ways, exactly as she was. And he was here, he was now, and he wanted her. She felt another rush of warmth toward him, affection of the kind that she’d felt for no one outside of her family. And, in that moment, she realised that if she went through with her decision, she would miss him terribly.

  ‘With a shared sec
ret,’ he answered. ‘And both as lonely as we were before this all started.’

  ‘People like us struggle to maintain relationships.’

  ‘Yes … I guess you’re right’. He emptied his glass in one. ‘One for the road, you said?’

  She took his hand, held it firmly and sighed. ‘I think we may need to be more careful in future.’

  A confused look crossed his face as she changed her grip, stood and led him toward the bedroom.

  ‘Woman’s prerogative, William Grahamslaw,’ she said, with a mischievous wink. ‘This may take a while to explain.’

  Epilogue

  Double tap, double tap. I smiled, it was Kevin. He always announced his arrival in exactly the same way, by rapping four times on the door knocker.

  ‘Will you get that?’ Jenny called from the top of the stairs.

  Guessing he’d want a brew, I flicked the kettle on and headed to the door.

  ‘You took your time,’ Kevin said, as he stepped into the hallway. ‘I thought you two were expecting me?’

  ‘Get away with you.’

  ‘Brew on?’

  I smiled. ‘Of course.’

  I closed the door firmly, but not before I’d checked the drive. Old habits ran deep.

  Kevin had called a couple of days previously to set up the visit. We were overdue a catch-up and I had a lot of questions about what had happened since our return from Wales in the rear of an MI5 car – me to be dropped off at home, Kevin headed to a meeting with Toni Fellowes. His timing had been good, just a few hours after he’d phoned I’d also heard from Bill Grahamslaw to tell me my suspension had been lifted and that he was expecting me back at work the following Monday.

  Toni had called me twice. First, to tell me what was happening with regard to the bothy. Some rather protracted negotiation had apparently occurred between the Chief Constable of the local force, Dyfed-Powys, and the Director-General at MI5. The day after Kevin, McNeil, Howard Green and I were whisked discreetly away, the body of Maggie Price was located in a shallow grave behind the bothy log store. An initial forensic examination at the scene confirmed she’d been shot and had been dead for some while, but tests on all the weapons recovered had yet to be completed.