by Alan Wade
“I’m well aware there could be a woman involved but that does not detract me from my belief, after all there’s a woman involved in Stockport, isn’t there?”
“Yes sir, but she’s only a girlfriend.”
“Let’s get back to the problem, we came to locate Johnson and find out what he’s up to, but to date we have nothing, therefore I want you to ask Chief Inspector Petchey to get his staff to check out all the local hotels, guest houses and pubs to see if anybody has seen Johnson. Tom, you check with the guys covering 78 Sandiway and the Brown Cow. I don’t want to find Johnson has led us here and then gone back because that really would make us look bloody foolish. Barry, you and I will go and interview Mr. Tony Broadhead at the Ivy. Perhaps he can shed some light on this affair.”
They walked into the Ivy past the bundle of brown fur. Greetings were exchanged and Rock, Barry and Tony Broadhead sat at a window table where Tony could see the main entrance.
“Tony, may I call you Tony?”
“Yes OK.”
“Tony, we are investigating a murder in Turkey plus other suspected offences.”
“What other suspected offences?” enquired Tony.
“Terrorism.”
“By who?”
“Alan Johnson.”
Tony laughed a loud outrageous laugh, “Terrorism, bloody terrorism! You are joking aren’t you! Alan Johnson is the best soldier this country ever bloody well had, he fought and killed for his country and for his efforts saw many of his comrades die. He’s no more a terrorist than you or me.”
“Thanks for that Tony, but the matter stands.”
“You’re off your bloody trolley Major.”
His face hardened, “thank you; now please tell me, when did Johnson arrive?”
Tony nodded but the smile left his face, “let me get my guest ledger sir.”
He departed and returned a few minutes later with a large brown bound book which he leafed through to find Johnson’s name.
“He arrived on the evening of the 20th.”
“So, he’s been here for three days.”
“Not quite sir, although he booked in and stayed the night of the 20th he’s not been back since.”
“I see, so where do you think he is?”
“No idea sir, he’s a grown man, probably pulled a bird and shacked up with her.”
“Does he do that often?”
“How the hell would I know, I only see him about three times a year and that’s usually when he comes racing.”
“But he doesn’t race in December Tony, not in December last year.”
“No, then he just came for a rest and did some drinking I suppose.”
“What did he do in the daytime?”
“I don’t know; I’m not his keeper I’m his friend. You learn in the SAS not to get to know too much, not to ask too many personal questions. He does what he wants and comes and goes as he pleases.”
“Well that’s definitely what he’s done now, has he done this before?”
“What?”
“Not come back to the hotel at night.”
“No, he usually gets back at about 6.00 pm for a few beers.”
“But not last night.”
“No, not last night.”
“Have you any idea where he goes in the daytime and what he does while he’s out?”
“None sir, as I say, he’s his own man and I don’t ask.”
“Has he ever spoken to you about what he does when you are together in the evening, I do presume you have a few beers together?”
“A few sir, just a few,” replied Tony then continued, “no we always talked about the old times, I did ask him once what he was doing now and he said he was retired and horse racing.”
“Thank you,” said the Major who then rose to his feet, “do you mind if I see his room?”
“Search his room you mean?”
“Search his room Tony.”
“Do you have a search warrant?”
“No, but I do have the ear of Chief Inspector Petchey in York who will be interested to know why you hindered me in my enquiries.”
He got up, walked to the bar, grabbed a key and placed it in the Major’s hand, “He’s in Room 5, first floor, turn right on the landing.”
“Thank you,” the Major smiled, “you’re most helpful.”
Both Barry and the Major searched the room which apart from the hotel furnishings contained only clothes belonging to Alan Johnson.
“Sir, he wasn’t coming back that night; I mean there’s no razor, shaver or toilet bag, which makes me think he wasn’t coming back here.”
“I agree, let’s just leave one little present and get out of here; I think it should go in the TV, if you can arrange that Barry.”
“The kettle would be better sir, less spatial interference.”
The Major waved him on, “you decide.”
“Thank you sir,” Barry dismantled the base of the kettle and inserted a micro listening device. He looked up at Rock and asked, “Just one Major, do you think we should plant another?”
“No, I don’t think so, I’m sure that if he returns his pal Tony will tell him of our little adventure in his room and that will be enough to silence him. Let’s go Barry, but as we leave place one behind the bar if you can.”
Rock led the way and walked straight up to Tony.
“Thank you for that here’s the key,” he asserted.
The Major stood directly in front of Tony blocking his view while Barry bent down, placed a micro chip under the lip of the front rail of the bar, stood and walked on, the whole process taking one second.
“Thank you again Mr Broadhead,” he said as he presented a business card to Tony, “here is my telephone number, if you see Johnson or think of anything else you may want to tell me, please call.”
He took the card, looked at it and then at the Major and replied, “I will sir, I will.”
“Thank you Tony.”
Both Major Rock and Barry left the Ivy and drove back to the Hilton.
“Bloody good blokes these SAS men aren’t they sir, never seem to flap or tell you anything.”
“Yes Barry, bloody good blokes.”
The mood at the Hilton was sombre; Johnson had not returned to Sandiway, had not been seen in the Brown Cow and had not been located in York. The York police had searched every hotel, boarding house, bed and breakfast and residential pub plus many other public houses and public places and there was no sign of Mr Alan Johnson.
“I still believe he’s in this town but so far we have not been able to locate him, perhaps tomorrow will give us a break. Gentlemen, thank you for your time and effort today.” The Major bade them farewell and agreed to meet them again at 7.30am.
Both Alan Johnson and Major Rock were asleep by eleven pm.
January 24th, 08.15, Ibis Hotel, York.
Alan Walsh dumped his room key in the reception key drop, he had already paid for the extra night and therefore could leave without meeting anybody in the hotel.
Today his dress code was different; he had on casual waterproof clothes, walking boots and a rucksack complete with water bottles and ordnance survey maps.
He took his usual route and again ensured he was not being followed. He arrived at the office at 08.30, gave the usual greetings and set about the third day of his work. Once again coffee and food was drunk and eaten at his desk as he went about his business.
At 5.25 pm he sent his last fax and was happy with the day’s work. He now had contracts with a total of 54 companies and had agreements to ship thousands of tonnes of fireworks into the UK. These would be shipped direct from Turkey to each customer and two envelopes containing the names and addresses of the contacts had been posted to Turkey. Theresa’s last job that night was to email a factory in Turkey with the contac
t names and addresses to make doubly sure they would be received.
He paid Theresa in cash for the office rent and secretarial services he had used and said he would return soon within the next three months to complete his work. He left the offices having taken the sim card from his mobile phone and dropped it into the river as he walked; this time towards the Ivy Hotel. Where the River Foss entered the River Ouse, he turned towards the city and walked along the bank of the larger river which flowed through the centre of York. Under a bridge close to Clifford’s Tower, he dropped the mobile phone into the river and set off to walk briskly to the Ivy.
“Where the hell have you been,” hissed Tony as he sat down on a bar stool.
“I’ve been walking, thought I’d take a couple of days out and walk round York and some local villages.”
“Do you know the bloody police have been here looking for you and I’m sure they’re staking out the place.”
“I am sorry, I had no idea,” he replied, “what did they want?”
“I don’t know; they talked a load of nonsense about murder and terrorism.”
“Then I may as well go and see them, my old friend.”
He rose from the bar stool and put his index finger to his lips.
“See you soon Tony.”
He then left the Ivy, walked back into the city and presented himself at the police station reception explaining, “My name is Alan Johnson. I believe you are looking for me.”
January 25th, Stockport Police Station.
“I have read Johnson his rights again sir, I know they were read to him in York, but I want to make doubly sure.”
“Thank you Sergeant, how is our suspect this morning?”
“He seems OK, he’s eaten his breakfast and is sitting calmly in his cell. He has asked for his solicitor, a Mr Gould from a firm called Wolstens who says he will be here at 11.00 am.”
“Let’s see if Mr Johnson is prepared to talk to us without Mr Gould, we’ve got an hour before he arrives.”
Johnson was escorted into interview room one and was met by Major Rock and Sergeant Lawrence.
“Please take a seat Mr Johnson,” the Major beckoned him to the one chair opposite him.
“Thank you,” he replied as he sat down and familiarised himself with his surroundings.
The Major continued, “As you know Mr Johnson we are investigating the murder of a man in Turkey, plus other concerns and have arrested you on suspicion of that murder. We have 48 hours to question you and you have the right to legal representation. I do believe a Mr Gould will arrive here at 11.00 am. The interview we are now conducting will be recorded, as will all interviews. Are you happy to proceed or do you want to wait until Mr Gould arrives?”
He waved his hand in a circular motion, indicating his acceptance to proceed and replied, “Please go on, but I can state categorically that I did not kill this man in Turkey and have no idea about your other concerns.”
“Let’s start with those; Mr Johnson, you have a habit of disappearing for days on end.”
“Disappearing?”
“Yes, for example on January the 20th you went into the Brown Cow public house, ordered drinks and a meal and then left, appearing days later in York.”
“Yes I did, but I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“Could you tell me why you did that Mr Johnson and where you were for the four days?”
“The ‘Why’ is very difficult, I’m ex-SAS, I sometimes get the urge to go away. I have no family and no other commitments; therefore I don’t need to tell anyone why I do certain things.”
Rock leant forward, his eyes looking directly into Johnson’s as he snapped,
“Maybe you need to tell me Mr Johnson. We know you left the Brown Cow and hired a car from City Rent-a-Car, you then drove it to Leeds City station and parked it. We have the parking ticket and the car.”
Alan interrupted, “I hope you’re paying for the extra rental, because I don’t see why I should.”
“The car has been impounded by the police as evidence. There will be no further payment,” hissed the Major and continued, “You then boarded a train to York, the return portion of the ticket still being in your possession when you were searched in York. You then spent the night of the 20th at the Ivy Hotel, walked out of the hotel on the 21st and were not seen again until the 24th. Why did you take those actions Mr Johnson?”
“To get away from reality, to get back to my youth and my training.”
“I suggest it was to get away from us Mr Johnson, from the police.”
The Major looked directly into the cold steel blue eyes of Johnson. Johnson returned the gaze.
“Why should I want to get away from you?”
“No normal person leaves his own car, hires another one, leaves it half way to his destination, goes by train the rest of the way then disappears from his friends hotel for two nights, do they?”
“I’m not a normal person sir.”
“No you’re not, but you are a suspect in a murder enquiry and a suspect in far more searching issues.”
“What issues?”
“Terrorism Johnson, terrorism; as you know the UK may be a prime target for terrorists and we have powers to detain suspects indefinitely if we think they are a threat to National security.”
“I’m no threat to National Security, nor am I a murderer. Therefore I think we should wait until Mr Gould comes before I answer any more questions.”
The steel blue eyes gazed directly into the Major’s and Rock knew there would be no more answers until the arrival of Mr Gould.
Mr Gould arrived at 11.15, a small, well dressed, fussy man, who was profuse in his apologies for being late. He had been held up in traffic on the A6 but was here now and wished for a private word with his client. They were offered interview room two after Mr Gould had been briefed by Rock.
“Well Mr Johnson, my understanding is that you have been brought in for questioning for the suspected murder of an unnamed man in Olu Deniz, Turkey.”
“Yes, that’s it, but I have already denied any involvement and the only evidence is circumstantial.”
“You were there at the time of the murder?”
“Yes, I was on holiday in Olu Deniz but so were hundreds of thousands of other people and I never met the man.”
“They say he was killed in some professional way with a strangle hold and that you are trained in those skills.”
“Yes, I trained in Ju Jitsu with the SAS.”
“They also say the lady you went on holiday with,” he stopped to look at the supplied brief for her name.
“Jacky was her name” interrupted Alan.
“Yes that’s correct and it says you spent a lot of time away from her.”
“That’s true, but it doesn’t make me a murderer.”
“Quite true Mr. Johnson; it’s all circumstantial and not very good circumstantial evidence at that. However, they do say the murdered man went to Turkey with two other colleagues who you may have met in Olu Deniz and that one of those men was also in Rhodes when you were on holiday there last year. Is that true?”
“I did not meet any men in Turkey, therefore I have no idea if one of the same men was in Rhodes. I went on a cruise last year, again with Jacky and one of the ports of call happened to be Rhodes, but we were only there for half a day.”
“They say you left the ship with her but returned alone much later than her.”
“I can’t actually remember but I’m sure they’re correct. She likes shopping and I like drinking. She left me in a bar and we met again back on board.”
“That seems OK to me and again the evidence, if it is such, is circumstantial. I can see no reason why they may hold you any longer Mr Johnson. I suggest we meet with them immediately.”
A second chair was proffered and Mr Gould and Johnson now sa
t at one side of the table opposite Rock and Lawrence in interview room one.
Mr Gould began proceedings, “Major, I have spoken with my client who denies all charges of the murder of an unknown person in Turkey and of any involvement with meeting the murdered person’s colleagues in either Turkey or Rhodes. Therefore I must ask you to release him immediately on the grounds that you have no substantial evidence of his guilt.”
The Major looked at Gould, “It’s not quite as simple as that sir. You see we believe Mr Johnson is involved in terrorist activities in the UK and under the new anti-terrorism legislation we have the right to hold him indefinitely.”
“You have not arrested Mr Johnson for those reasons and have offered no evidence, circumstantial or other wise to support your claim,” asserted Gould.
“If your client has done nothing wrong why does he feel the need to keep disappearing and avoiding surveillance?” snapped Rock.
“May I answer that,” interrupted Alan; “I have ‘disappeared’ as you say on only three occasions in the past 8 or 9 months. Some of you may call it holiday breaks. I went to York in June to go racing at the York meeting and I went again in December. The third occasion was on the 20th of January, just a few days ago to go walking, yomping, and camping. I enjoy being self sufficient and living off the land. It’s what I was trained to do and it’s what I need to do sometimes. I enjoy my own company and counsel. I also do not like being followed and will always ensure I am left alone to do as a free man wishes in the UK. Therefore I will actively avoid surveillance.”
Mr Gould looked at him and then at the Major, “are you telling me you had Mr Johnson under surveillance?”
“Yes sir,” nodded Lawrence.
“They have placed trackers in my car, tapped my phone, fax and email and have wired up my house. They also have a surveillance team watching my house and my movements twenty four seven.”
“Is this true?” enquired Mr Gould.
“Yes sir it is. I believe Alan Johnson may be planning a terrorist attack on this country aided by the people he met in Turkey and Rhodes,” declared Rock.
“This is incredible, that you should go to these lengths to obtain evidence,” scolded Gould, who then continued, “however, since you have gone to these lengths what evidence have you now obtained against my client?”