Latent Hazard rkadika-1

by Piers Venmore-Rowland

  ‘Sorry,’ Rafi said. ‘I was only trying to fathom out the true size of the exclusion zone.’

  ‘I understand that if you take the underground to Belsize Park and walk to the top of Parliament Hill, on the south side of Hampstead Heath, you get a good overall view.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Rafi returned to Old Street underground station and took the tube across to Hampstead. The journey brought back memories of the lead-up to his arrest; it all seemed eons ago.

  He was soon back on his old home ground. It felt strange; he was revisiting a chapter of his life that had been closed. He had left the keys to his flat at Kate’s. As he walked down Well Walk, past his building and on towards the Heath, he wondered what his redecorated flat looked like. He shrugged his shoulders – that was for another day, he told himself.

  Twenty minutes later he was standing on the top of Parliament Hill, 100 metres above the exclusion zone, the scale of which beggared belief. It was a miracle that the relocation and decontamination process had passed off without any major incidents.

  Rafi strolled down to Belsize Park tube station, past the Royal Free Hospital. The sign to the oncology department sent a shiver down his back as he fleetingly envisaged the many people suffering from radiation poisoning.

  An hour later he was back in Kate’s flat. Physically exhausted, he settled down, read the papers and had something to eat. Whilst he missed Kate’s company, he had always enjoyed having time to himself.

  Over the next couple of weeks he recharged his batteries and enjoyed the freedom of having nothing in particular to do. His hair grew sufficiently to cover the scar on his head and for him to stop wearing a hat in public. All his wounds had healed and he was beginning to wonder what he should do next. Of one thing he was certain: he would not be going back into fund management.

  Yes, there had been several phone calls from prospective employers trying to entice him to work for them. The golden hellos on offer were mouth-wateringly large, but his heart was no longer in that line of work.

  Rafi decided he was in no hurry and would give himself another month or two before starting to job hunt.

  One evening, before Kate had returned from work, the phone rang. It was an ebullient Saara.

  ‘Rafi, would you believe it? I’ve had a job offer I can’t refuse.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘The Chancellor of the Exchequer invited me to Number 11 for a working lunch. It was just me, the Chancellor and four of his Treasury suits.’

  ‘Sounds like fun,’ replied Rafi.

  ‘They want me to run a team which advises on research and development grants allocated to UK universities. Dealing with renewable energy, hydrogen fuel cells, energy efficiency, clean carbon technology, carbon sequestration, under sea storage and,’

  Rafi interrupted her, as the list seemed endless. ‘That sounds right up your street.’

  ‘I know, isn’t it great? I’d be involved with all the areas that could give the UK economy a competitive edge post nuclear power.’ Saara chuckled. ‘I liked the sound of the job but I told them I had loyalties: my existing research work and Steve. And that I was very happy in Birmingham. You know what? The Chancellor started smiling. He said I made an excellent negotiator. He then floored me. He said that Steve’s research had caught the eye of those at University College London and that they’d be asking him to work with them on secondment. Plus, he can bring his research team with him! The Chancellor has sorted it out with my boss at the university. He thinks it’s an excellent opportunity for us both! Basically, I was well and truly stitched up. But, Rafi, I wasn’t pleased to find you were part of the fit up.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Well, they told me that Jeremy had spoken to you, and confirmed that Steve and I were most welcome to use your flat on a long-term basis, as you were now living with Kate.’

  ‘Of course you are welcome to use it, and it explains why Jeremy asked me about you and my flat out of the blue.’

  ‘Isn’t it fantastic? I’ve talked it through with Steve and, if it’s alright with you, the move is on.’

  ‘I’m really happy for you. I’ll send you a set of keys,’ said Rafi.

  ‘Thank you… And I’ll be working at the Treasury. I’ll have a workstation at Number 11. And they’re practically tripling my salary. It’s outrageous; I’m going to get a huge pay increase to do something I love.’

  ‘It’s about time,’ remarked Rafi.

  ‘Rafi, are you sure it’s alright for me to use your flat?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘Steve says he’s looking forward to living somewhere without rising damp. By the way, how much rent should we pay?’

  ‘How about what you were paying in Birmingham?’

  ‘Surely that can’t possibly be enough?’ said Saara.

  Rafi heard Kate unlocking the front door.

  ‘Sis, don’t worry. Enjoy the flat and let’s chat again soon. I’ve got to go now – Kate has just got home.’

  ‘Bye and thanks,’ replied a very happy Saara.

  Chapter 10

  They’d been back in London for almost four weeks. Thursday had been a quiet day. Rafi had cooked supper, which was being kept warm in the oven, and he was sitting with his feet up reading the evening newspaper. He looked up at the clock. It was almost 9.30 p.m. Kate had rung to say that she would be a bit late, so he was not worried.

  There was a clatter downstairs as Kate opened the front door, bounced up the stairs and greeted him with a hug and a lingering kiss.

  ‘Forgive me for being so late. Supper smells good. Thank you for waiting.’

  ‘I hope it’s still edible.’

  He noticed Kate’s cheerful demeanour. ‘Did you have a good day then?’

  ‘Yep, it was quite something. It seems I’ve been promoted. You now see before you Detective Chief Inspector Kate Adams!’

  Rafi listened to her story of how she’d been dumbstruck when she’d been called into a meeting with the commissioner. ‘Emma is being promoted into my job. Jack Fisher from John’s team downstairs, who did all the work on the terrorist sleepers, is taking on Emma’s role and Peter Ashby is to become their sidekick. According to the commissioner, that left him with a bit of a problem as to what he should do with his newest detective chief inspector! I didn’t follow what he was saying until he said, “Yes, Kate, the appointments board has approved your promotion. It puts you as the youngest DCI in the City of London. Congratulations.” I left feeling light-headed,’ continued Kate. ‘I was only promoted to detective inspector last year. I seem to have missed a large number of rungs on the ladder.’

  Rafi leant across and kissed her. ‘Fantastic! This calls for a celebration. It’s what you deserve. I’d love to see your family’s faces when you tell them the good news.’

  ‘But that’s not all. He asked if you and I would attend a meeting with him, Ewan Thorn and the PM’s permanent secretary tomorrow afternoon at 3 o’clock?’

  “So we won’t have to wait long to find out what they have in mind for you.” Rafi gave her another kiss, got up and walked through to the kitchen. From the back of the fridge he pulled out a bottle of sparkling white wine, scooped up two glasses from a cupboard and walked back into the sitting room. Kate had kicked off her shoes and was sitting on the sofa with her feet curled up under her.

  ‘Look what I found in the fridge.’ He passed the bottle to Kate. ‘You can do the honours.’ There was a loud pop as the cork flew up and made a small dent in the ceiling.

  Rafi put a glass out to catch the effervescent wine as it bubbled out of the top.

  Kate filled her glass. Rafi stretched his arm out and she poured an inch of the liquid into his glass.

  He raised it. ‘A toast: to you, the most talented policewoman in the City!’

  Rafi looked into the eyes he loved so much and, out of the ordinary, took a sip of the sparkling wine. It tasted different to what he’d expected. The little bubbles danced on his tongue.

/>   Kate raised her glass and took a long swig. ‘I’ve a confession to make: this isn’t my first glass of champagne this evening.’ There was a chuckle in her voice.

  Rafi smiled. ‘You deserve being made a fuss of. What exactly does your promotion mean?’

  ‘Heaven only knows! I suppose they want me to move somewhere new, which is why they’ve asked for you to be there.’

  They chatted over the well-cooked supper. Kate was buoyed up with the excitement of the news. As to what the future held, all would be revealed tomorrow. They left the dirty plates where they were and retired to bed.

  Kate was up and out of the flat early the next morning. Rafi tidied up and spent a leisurely couple of hours reading the papers. He was feeling rested. The terrors of the previous month were a thing of the past. He left in good time, dropped into a florist on the way and headed off for the meeting at Wood Street. He arrived almost fifteen minutes early and went up to the fourth floor office to look for Kate. To his surprise, he found Emma sitting at Kate’s desk and opposite her was Jack Fisher.

  ‘Hi there, I came to have a last look at where I was imprisoned and to convey my congratulations to the two of you.’ From behind his back Rafi produced a bouquet of spring flowers, which he handed to Emma. ‘Congratulations and well done.’

  Rafi turned to leave but Emma stopped him at the door. ‘You can’t get away that easily.’ She placed her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. ‘You look after Kate, or else I’ll come and sort you out. Got that? She’s a very special girl.’

  Rafi felt a firm tap on his shoulder. ‘So this is what you get up to when my back is turned: making out with my best friend! I should have guessed that the two of you had a soft spot for each other!’

  Kate winked at Emma. ‘Come on, Rafi, we are meant to be elsewhere – if you can tear yourself away from those sexy lips.’

  Rafi looked into Emma’s eyes and sensed a real fondness. He kissed her on the cheek and followed Kate down the corridor.

  ‘Nice to see Emma again?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Yep,’ Rafi replied. ‘You’ve a really good friend there. She left me in no doubt that I had to take good care of you, or else!’

  Kate had a broad grin on her face as they entered Beverley’s office. She waved them into her boss’s meeting room.

  The meeting room looked very neat and tidy. There, sitting at the table, was the commissioner, together with a dark-suited gentleman, who Rafi recalled as being the Prime Minister’s permanent secretary, and Ewan from MI5. Kate and Rafi sat down opposite them.

  The content of the meeting was a surprise. Rafi had gone along expecting Kate to be offered a posting far away from the south-east – somewhere like Manchester – and assumed he’d been invited along so he didn’t feel left out of the process.

  The meeting started with the PM’s permanent secretary setting out his boss’s stance. ‘Following the recent terrorist attacks, the PM believes that the EU is missing a trick in the war on terror. Standards and ethics of what is acceptable and unacceptable, or what is legal or illegal, differ from country to country. Despite anti-money laundering legislation being enacted, there seems to be no let-up in the shady financial activities of terrorists and drug dealers. The PM believes that there is an urgent need for transparency. More information needs to be in the public domain as to who controls which company or business.’

  He adjusted his cufflinks and continued. ‘The Stratford terrorists built up large business interests and concealed them right under our noses. The concern is that with a growing number of public companies going private and the enormous wealth of a relatively small but significant number of individuals, the authorities are losing sight of who is controlling what, and what exactly the money is being used to finance in the shadier recesses of our countries. At one level, profits are being channelled out of Europe into tax havens and, at another, a growing number of private companies and individuals are operating as if they’re beholden to no one. Giles, would you like to continue?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Giles. ‘Before Stratford, being an immensely wealthy person entitled one to low levels of scrutiny. Key questions weren’t asked for fear of driving business away. The richer someone was, the more a blind eye was turned. There’s a dichotomy: on the one hand we have the politicians who have power to smooth people’s paths, but rarely have much personal wealth, and on the other hand there are those with immense personal wealth and insatiable desires, but who need favours to pursue their ambitions. Too many people view greasing a palm or two as a legitimate cost of doing business. There are, across Europe, growing levels of corruption and a lack of transparency as to what is going on. This trend concerns the PM.’

  ‘DCI Adams and Mr Khan,’ interjected the permanent secretary, ‘The President of the European Commission is also very concerned that the lack of financial transparency and the dubious financial practices are encouraging criminal activities and resulting in billions of Euros of tax slipping away. He is creating a new task force, led by the former head of a German State police force. His team will comprise four senior detectives, four special advisers and a small team of technical specialists who have a detailed knowledge of criminal practices and money matters. It will be based in Luxembourg. The remit is to report to the EU President on the practicalities of making European-wide financial affairs more transparent. DCI Adams, you are requested to apply for one of the four senior detective posts.’

  Kate’s mouth fell open.

  ‘Obviously, as this is a European Union appointment, there will be an interview process to go through; a shortlist has been drawn up and unless you tell the interview panel to take a hike, I would submit that the post is yours. You would be seconded from the City of London police force and be able to come back here at a future date. Salary and terms and conditions will, we believe, be acceptable. There would be a modest flat in Luxembourg included in the package. The post in the first instance will be for three years.’

  Before Kate had the opportunity to reply, the permanent secretary turned to Rafi. ‘Mr Khan, you have shown yourself to be very enterprising in unravelling the web that the Stratford terrorists had spun. The President of the EU Commission and our Prime Minister have asked me to enquire whether you would be willing to have your name put forward to join the task force as a special adviser. You would suffer a significant reduction in remuneration, but it has been suggested to us that there may be other aspects of the job that would appeal to you, thereby making the salary less of an issue?’

  There was a pause. Rafi looked at Kate. She had a big smile on her face, which he took to be a Yes.

  ‘For whom would I be working?’ enquired Rafi.

  ‘Well, that depends to whom you’re talking,’ said Ewan. ‘Officially, you would be employed by the European Commission, but in practice you’d be on secondment from MI5. I have it on good authority that Neil and his team are very impressed by you. Intelligence will be an important feature of your work, hence your inclusion with our security services.’

  ‘Are you interested?’ asked the permanent secretary.

  Rafi looked at Kate again and then back at the permanent secretary.

  ‘Would it be alright for Kate and me to discuss this by ourselves for a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course; do use the room next door,’ said the commissioner.

  Kate sat down with Rafi in the adjoining office.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Rafi.

  ‘I have a few concerns: first of all, could you stand working and living with me? And how would you feel working for me? And also, do you like the idea of living in Luxembourg and travelling around Europe, working out how the system is being manipulated?’ asked Kate.

  Rafi looked at her smiling face; there could only be one answer – ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excellent. Shall we give it a go? If we enjoy it, great, but if we’ve been sold a pup we can always come back to the UK and find something else to do.’

  ‘I don’t think we should be s
een to be too hasty. Why not ask them a few more questions before saying yes?’ suggested Rafi.

  They walked back into the meeting room and sat down.

  ‘Your proposals are intriguing and interesting,’ Kate started. ‘How much autonomy would there be?’

  ‘It will be a small team and it will have autonomy.’

  ‘If I’m operating overseas, why is MI5 and not MI6 involved?’ asked Rafi.

  ‘Good point,’ commented Ewan. ‘MI6 know nothing about what’s going on. We thought that, as you know us and we know you, it would be simpler if you were seconded from MI5.’

  Rafi nodded.

  ‘Will other national intelligence services be involved?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Undoubtedly. It’s likely that each special adviser will have an intelligence background. You, Mr Khan, are the so-called ace up one’s sleeve. Whilst the Kates of this world know their way around accounts and corrupt businesses, and intelligence service people have their skills, you have the real market experience and a sixth sense for the extraordinary.’

  ‘Is there a pecking order in the team?’ enquired Kate.

  ‘Yes. There’s a boss, to whom you’ll report, and, below you, you’ll have a support team at your beck and call. As far as the four police officers and four special advisers are concerned, it’s expected that you’ll work as partners. The type of work you’ll be doing doesn’t go with structured hierarchies.’

  Rafi looked across at Ewan. ‘If I get the job, could I spend a few days with Neil’s team to see what resources would be at my disposal?’

  ‘Of course!’ replied Ewan. ‘If you accept this post you will become one of us and will have access to the full scope of our resources. And we might even throw in a spot of training as well! The PM is placing great importance on this specialist task force. There may only be a few of you, but what you might lack in numbers will more than be made up for by a combination of your individual skills and the resources behind you.’

  ‘Why Luxembourg and not, say, Brussels?’ enquired Kate.

  ‘Luxembourg has become a major money and investment management centre. It’s midway between the two European Parliaments – Brussels and Strasbourg – and it’s within driving distance of Frankfurt, where the chief currently lives. Plus, it has a good little airport at Findel, five kilometres north-east of the city, which gives access to a large number of European cities. Also, there’s a well-staffed British Embassy there. And I hear the standard of living is rather good,’ came the reply.