The Devil's Feather

by Minette Walters

  “None of your business.”

  “Do you want some ice?”

  “No.”

  “What did he use to stop you breathing? Plastic bags?”

  It was exactly the way I would have asked that question. In the same uninterested tone and with the same lack of emphasis. And I fell for it because I wasn’t expecting it. “Usually drowning,” I said.

  From: connie.burns@uknet.com

  Sent: Sat 14/08/04 10:03

  To: alan.collins@manchester-police.co.uk

  Subject: Additional information

  Dear Alan,

  I’ve spent all night thinking about this email. There are numerous reasons why I don’t want to write it, and only one why I do-because it concerns my parents. Despite the pieces I’ve written over the years, highlighting the tragedies of women and children in war, I honestly believe I’d have allowed a thousand anonymous women to die before I said anything. It’s the old morality tale of the death-ray and the elderly Chinaman. Do you know it?

  A rich man shows you a death-ray machine and promises you a million pounds if you push the button. The bad news is an old man in China will die if you do; the good news is no one will know it was you who killed him. The victim will be the only loser. His family are tired of looking after him, and pray regularly for his death, while you have only the rich man’s word that the machine can kill anyone-let alone a man you’ve never met. You have three choices: press the button and spend the rest of your life a million pounds richer, convinced the whole thing was a scam…press the button and spend the rest of your life a million pounds richer, with a murder on your conscience…or refuse to press the button and forgo the million pounds. Which do you choose?

  I think the moral is that the first choice is impossible because there’s no such thing as a free lunch. You will always be plagued by doubt about its being a scam, and the rich man will always own your soul. The second and third choices are the only honest ones-to accept payment for murder, with all its consequences, or to refuse.

  I’ve been trying to implement the first choice. Take the reward (my life) and convince myself that I have no responsibility for anyone else’s death-but I’ve failed because it’s not the choice I made. I opted for number two-took the reward, knowing full well I had a responsibility, but hoping I could live with the consequences. I can’t do that either. Not because my conscience is pricking me-it’s been pretty much dead since I switched my energies to survival-but because my parents are involved. Perhaps we can all kill from a distance-it’s how we fight war now-but it’s different when we know the faces of the victims.

  Although this information is certainly redundant-I think you’ve always known the truth-please add the following facts to the ones I’ve already given you:

  1. Keith MacKenzie aka John Harwood aka Kenneth O’Connell was my abductor. He had at least two accomplices-the driver of the car and one of the men who pulled me out of it. I can describe the driver because I saw his face in the rear-view mirror-fairly dark-skinned, no moustache, aged about thirty. The other two men wore ski-masks. I can’t tell you what nationality they were, as the only one who spoke was the driver (to confirm in accented English that he was driving me to the airport). However, from the build of one of the masked men, I suspect it was MacKenzie.

  2. I remember something being held to my mouth (ether? chloroform?). The next I knew, I was in a crate/cage/kennel, stripped, gagged and blindfolded, with my hands tied behind my back. I have no idea where that was or how I got there. From then on, the only person I had any dealings with was MacKenzie, although I never saw him because my eyes were taped throughout.

  3. All the bindings felt soft. I have since seen photographs of other hostages who had lint fastened over their eyes with duct tape, and I believe that’s how all mine were done. Despite trying several times to loosen my hands, the doctor who examined me afterwards found only “minor bruising of the wrists-similar to Chinese burns.”

  4. On several occasions, the lint over my eyes became saturated with water and was replaced-presumably to prevent the tape losing adhesion-but I have no recollection of when and how that was done. (Sedation?)

  5. Similarly, I have no recollection of being taken to the bombed-out building where Dan Fry found me on Tuesday morning. Dan described me as “wobbly and disorientated” but, by the time the doctor examined me three hours later, the effects had worn off.

  6. I may have been held on or near a dog-handling establishment. When I saw MacKenzie at the Baghdad academy, he was instructing dog-handlers, and dogs were brought to the cellar regularly during my captivity. Also, the only consistent sound from outside was barking. NB. In Sierra Leone, it was widely known that a Rhodesian ridgeback patrolled MacKenzie’s compound.

  7. My best guess is that I was held either in the cellar/basement of wherever MacKenzie/O’Connell was living at the time of my abduction; or the cellar/basement of an empty building which he “inhabited” for the duration of my stay. The length of my captivity was approx 68 hours, and I believe I can recall ten distinct occasions when he came to the cellar. I am having some difficulty isolating specific episodes so that number may be higher. It was not LESS than ten.

  8. Allowing for the time he spent with me (I estimate a minimum of 45" for each episode) no more than 6 hours elapsed between visits, assuming they occurred at regular intervals during the 68 hours. While it was not impossible for him to drive away and return within that time-frame, it seems unlikely, as coalition patrols/check-points would have recorded the regular movements of his car. Nor do I think he would have attempted such trips after curfew, which would have drawn more attention to him. NB. I heard a vehicle leave and return on only two occasions.

  9. At no time did I sense anyone else’s presence in the building. The barking of the dogs was audible, but there was no “human” noise-e.g., conversation, radio, television, mobile ring-tone, footsteps, moving furniture, etc. Shortly after the two occasions when I heard a vehicle, I was given something to eat. These were the only times I was fed during my captivity. NB. In Sierra Leone, no one went near MacKenzie’s compound because he was notoriously hostile to visitors/workers. His habit was to eat “out,” usually at Paddy’s Bar.

  10. MacKenzie made a video of my captivity. Assuming the microphone was switched on, his voice will be heard as he issued numerous instructions to me and the dogs. I believe this video was a “trophy” item for his own private pleasure because it doesn’t seem to have appeared anywhere. If so, he may have it on him if/when he’s arrested.

  11. As the only things returned to me on my release were the clothes I was wearing to travel, MacKenzie certainly knows my parents’ address and telephone number, which were stored in my laptop and mobile. If he wrote those details down, they may also be in his possession if/when he’s arrested. NB. I can supply a list of the contents of my suitcase/haversack/bag in case he kept anything else.

  12. My hotel bedroom was entered regularly in the days before my abduction. I had no proof it was MacKenzie but, after one such intrusion, my laptop was open and my letter to Alastair Surtees, giving details of the Sierra Leone murders, was on the screen.

  13. I believe the intention behind entering my hotel bedroom was to scare me into dropping the story and leaving Iraq (possibly to make a hijack easier). It succeeded. I believe the intention behind the abduction was to stifle any interest I might have in pursuing the story in the UK. To date, this, too, has been largely successful.

  14. I cannot visually identify MacKenzie as my abductor because I never saw him. Nor did he identify himself to me by name. However, I recognized his voice and he used certain phrases that recalled a conversation I had with him in Freetown. Viz: “I’m calling in that good turn you owe me.” “Do you like me now, Ms. Burns?” “I warned you not to cross me.”

  15. There is nothing I can say at trial that won’t be contested by the defence. At some stage prior to releasing me, he took me outside and hosed me down on some plastic sheeting to remove every
last trace of my confinement/contact with him and the dogs. When Dan Fry found me, the binding had been removed from my wrists, the tape on my eyes and mouth had been changed (with the lint removed) and my clothes laundered. Bar a slight reddening where Dan ripped the duct tape away, I had no visible marks to indicate 68 hours of incarceration.

  16. I am as convinced as I can be that my parents’ nuisance caller is Keith MacKenzie, and that he knows I was responsible for his photograph being made public. It’s too much of a coincidence that he should “re-emerge” shortly after Dan had the photograph positively ID’d as O’Connell. Which means that, if Surtees is telling the truth about handing MacKenzie his papers at the end of July, then MacKenzie is still in close contact with staff/students at the academy, or colleagues in BG, or Surtees himself. My guess is it was Surtees and he knows where MacKenzie is and how to contact him.

  17. It’s possible MacKenzie was phoning from abroad but, in case he’s already entered this country, I’ve persuaded my parents to leave their flat and remove anything showing my current address/whereabouts. I was most concerned about my mother’s safety, as MacKenzie would have killed her if he’d broken into the flat while she was there. Unfortunately, my father’s office details were also stored in my laptop and mobile, but, since I alerted him to the possible danger, he has cleared his desk/computer of all personal information and is planning to take circuitous routes to their temporary address. Their visit to me has been postponed indefinitely.

  18. My father feels he should notify his local police but I’ve made him promise not to. They will ask for more explanation than he can give. He knows only what I’ve told him-the rest he’s taken on trust-and I’m not willing to go to London to talk to the police myself or let Dad divulge my address so that they can come here. What I’ve said in this email is all I can say at the moment, and I don’t want to appear “evasive and unconvincing” by refusing to answer every question that’s put to me.

  That’s it, Alan. I can’t accept that you’ll protect my confidence because you won’t be able to-you’ll be duty-bound to pass on all my revelations-therefore, before I say any more, I will need some cast-iron guarantees that: a) MacKenzie is in custody and b) my evidence is necessary to convict him.

  Otherwise, I shall have passed my secrets to the wind to no purpose.

  Best wishes,

  Connie

  PS. I’m assuming you won’t be in till Monday, but I’d appreciate some suggestions re my parents and the local police when you have a moment. Please don’t bother with advice on counselling because I won’t take it, and please don’t waste your time trying to think up tactful phrases. It isn’t necessary. I know you wish me well without your having to say it.

  From: BandM@freeuk.com

  Sent: Sat 14/08/04 12:33

  To: connie.burns@uknet.com

  Subject: Your stalker

  Dear C,

  This is the new address for my laptop. It’s been a nuisance setting it up, so I hope it was necessary. I hear what you say about this man passing himself off as one of our friends because you had some of their names and addresses in your laptop, but I’m not so gullible as to answer unsolicited emails, even if they do purport to come from Zimbabwe. However…as your concern is for your mother, I’ve gone along with it.

  Now that the dust has settled a bit, I would appreciate a full explanation. We’re staying in a very cramped room in a mediocre hotel, and it would help to have a time-frame. Your mother’s idea of packing was to include our good stuff and leave out anything comfortable, so we’re dressed to the nines on a Saturday morning and extremely bad-tempered. Our only other choice is to stay in pyjamas all day, but we’re liable to kill each other if we don’t go out.

  We’re not happy, C. We’ve done as you asked because you used emotional blackmail to achieve it, but we’ll need some very good reasons to continue. Your mother’s worried and depressed because she doesn’t know why you’re afraid of this man, and I feel powerless to do anything for the same reason. I’m inclined to overrule you and take it to the police. You may have me over a barrel, in that I can’t give them his name, history or full description, but I can give them your address, C, and I may still decide to do that in your own interests.

  I’m sorry to be a grouch but you’re asking a lot of us. You may be used to living out of a suitcase, but we’re well past the age of finding it amusing. In case you’ve forgotten, your mother turns sixty-four at the end of the month, which is another reason why she’s cross. Apart from the fact that we won’t be coming to stay with you, the light in the hotel bathroom is less forgiving than the one at home(!).

  Please don’t do what you normally do, and leave this sitting in your inbox for days on end. I will not go away if you ignore me. If I don’t receive a reply by tomorrow, with an explanation of why all this is necessary, I shall go to the police. And that’s not emotional blackmail, it’s a threat.

  This is emotional blackmail. If we have to remain in this room much longer, you’ll be responsible for your parents’ divorce.

  All my love, Dad xxx

  From: alan.collins@manchester-police.co.uk

  Sent: Sat 14/08/04 14:19

  To: connie.burns@uknet.com

  Subject: Additional information

  Dear Connie,

  In fact I’m working a weekend shift, so I received your email this a.m. May I quote something my father taught me when I was nine years old and being bullied at school? “The secret of happiness is freedom; the secret of freedom, courage.” When I pointed out that I didn’t have any courage, my father said, “Of course you do, son. Courage isn’t about trying to hit someone who’s bigger and stronger-that’s foolishness-it’s about being scared to death and not showing it.” He was a self-educated coal-miner who died of emphysema when I was 15. I’ll tell you about him one day. He’s never going to make the history books, but he was a good man who spoke a lot of sense.

  If Dad was talking to you now, he’d say it was courage that kept you alive, but he’d also tell you that the downside of putting on a brave face is that you have to work through your fears on your own. And the mind has a dangerous habit of distorting facts.

  I expect you’ve worked out numerous reasons why MacKenzie didn’t kill you-all of them discounting your own contribution. In abusive situations, victims invariably underestimate themselves and exaggerate the intellect and power of their abuser. He thought Surtees would put two and two together? He didn’t trust his accomplices? You’d falsely accused him and he’s not a murderer at all? They’re all hogwash, Connie. Any man prepared to imprison and brutalize a woman is certainly capable of murder, and there was nothing to stop him following his well-tested MO of disfiguring (even beheading) you, leaving Iraq, changing his identity, and letting terrorists take the blame.

  I wish you’d see yourself for what you were-a prisoner without power-but I fear you’re rewriting history to show yourself in the worst light. I may be wrong, but I’m guessing you were forced to do certain things you’re ashamed of, and now your imagination is busy exaggerating your willingness to cooperate. Will you think I’m belittling your experience if I say these feelings are common to every woman, man or child who’s been abused, raped or sexually assaulted? It’s extremely hard to retain a sense of self when the intention of abuse is to reduce the victim to the level of slave.

  Since it’s obvious MacKenzie failed in that purpose-you wouldn’t have contacted me/produced the photograph if he hadn’t-can I suggest that the reason you’re still alive is because you won his respect? The way you reacted, however that was, worked in your favour. I’m sure you’ll believe it’s because you cooperated-all surviving victims do-but you’d be wrong to assume that, Connie. There’s no question the two murdered women, whose corpses I saw in Sierra Leone, began by cooperating. Any trained SOCO could read that from their rooms-from the lack of evidence of fettering to the clear indications that intercourse/rape happened on the beds. They set out to appease, and succeeded only in provokin
g.

  So why didn’t that happen to you? What did you do right that they did wrong? I can only assume that he saw you as a person rather than an object. Perhaps you hid your fear better than they did. Perhaps he never fully possessed you. Who knows? But I urge you not to jump to the conclusion that it was because you’re white and spoke his language. To a man like that, any defenceless woman represents the means to self-gratification, and he may not know himself why he didn’t follow through.

  I also urge you not to conclude that because you were blindfolded and came away “unmarked,” he never had any intention of killing you. It’ll persuade you that you could/should have rejected some of his demands, and that would be a wrong inference from the facts you’ve given me. If you reread my report on the Sierra Leone murders, you’ll see there are several indicators to suggest the murderer had been in the victims’ rooms for some time-last sightings of the victims, rearrangement of furniture, evidence that food had been consumed, etc.

  I made the suggestion in the report that the killer “played” with his victims before unleashing his final attack because he enjoyed watching their responses. It would have been a roller-coaster ride of hope and fear, and the fewer marks he left on them, the greater the hope they would have had of survival. I believe this is what he was doing with you, Connie, and the reason you’re still alive is because you played his “game” better than they did.

  In passing, one of the reasons I wanted a pathologist sent out to Freetown was because both the women I saw appeared to have petechial haemorrhaging of the eyes (small spots of blood under the surface). It’s possible they were caused by the ferocity of the attack, but petechiae are commonly found in cases of suffocation-as, for example, when a plastic bag is used to obstruct the airways-and I did wonder if the killer’s “play” involved this type of torture. It’s favoured by totalitarian regimes because it leaves no marks. Mock drownings are also popular…but tend to “saturate” anything over the victim’s eyes. If it’s any comfort, there’s nothing you can tell me that I haven’t seen or heard before. There’s a depressing familiarity about the way deficient men bolster their self-esteem, and it invariably involves the attempted “humiliation” of another human being. In your case, I’m glad to see that the attempt has proved unsuccessful, despite your (hopefully temporary) belief to the contrary.