by John Morris
“Yes Ma’am. I think you will be even more interested in the videos I shot this morning, the last one in particular.”
Dan explained what had occurred, slowing on some, but fast-forwarding most destinations, until they came to the last one. “This explains what is happening, but not why. Why this village?”
“They are all Muslims. This is a totally Islamic village, in the wilds of Norfolk. You have any theories?”
“No, only something half-arsed. I studied the OS map, and this village is in a different Borough, and comes under Wymondham. Can you bring up satellite view of the area, other villages nearby? We can check them physically tomorrow, but this way is far more efficient.”
“Yes, Wymondham you said … Here it is. Oh. This view is not current, but less than four days old.”
“Anything similar nearby?”
“Searching, one moment … By Jove, yes, several. Do you think this may be about the significance of political, electoral boundaries?”
“My thoughts are heading in that direction, Ma’am. They appear to be determined to beat us at the ballot box. We already know how they can fix elections with Tower Hamlets.
“From what we discovered today, most of these properties do not have an owner, at least one recorded by the Land Registry. No Title Deeds, and most were tithe to farms or companies, long since bought out, bankrupt, or defunct.”
A short discussion ensued, in which Dan told the Director everything he knew, and suspected. “I will be covering as much as I can, but this is beginning to get a bit big, even for me. I need information. I’ll need to requisition other field agents to monitor the now five identified, private aerodromes in Great Britain.”
“I suggest you do, but I doubt I’ll find the resources required. I’ll ask Alison to run support for you instead. What exactly do you need?”
“Existing properties on the list of villages (I am sending to your phone now … sent), versus the number of houses registered with the Land Registry. I am expecting a large discrepancy, Ma’am.”
“I see. It will be done, anything else?”
“Yes, we will also need to see what is happening in the towns and cities. I suspect Tower Hamlets, but worse.”
“Where’s this going Dan?”
“To the heart, the very fabric of our known society. I’m coming to regard this insidious infiltration as ‘The Muslim Extremist Apocalypse Theory’. Everything fits.”
“The Caliphate of Europe. You cannot be serious?”
“Yes, I am. All but the leaders are zombies, Ma’am.”
Chapter 13 ~ Centres of the Community
Dan arrived back in Norwich just as the evening rush hour was gathering momentum. He could have called for a pick-up, hired a car, or hailed a cab. Instead, he took the bus. He felt the need to observe the local population mix. There were a lot more foreigners, mostly Muslims, than he had expected.
He was about to call Felicity, when his phone rang. “Dan, I’m just calling to confirm we are a go for tomorrow. Be at the station by nine.”
“Sure, I’ll be there. I was just about to call you, make a dinner date.”
“Sorry Dan, my father wants me to dine in Trimingham tonight. It seems to be a special occasion. You have anything for me?”
“Felicity … No, never mind. Go. It’ll be worth it.”
“What do you know?”
“Nothing, except today went rather well for your father. He will need to tell you the rest himself. Dinner tomorrow perhaps?”
“Hmmm. We’ll see. Men!”
The phone went dead. Dan stared at it for some time, and thoughts of her filled his mind. He wanted to call her back, leave a text, but decided to wait until later. He knew she was preoccupied with matters of the moment.
Instead, he watched the people come and go, changed buses, and got back to the village a lot later than expected. He checked the house, but it was deserted. He found Percy in the bar of the inn, and kept him company with a pint.
They made plans for the morning, and after dinner Dan went to his room. There were too many imponderables to prepare a long-term course of action. Instead, he prepared contingency plans with the focus of either establishing the threat, or disproving it.
The next morning he arrived at the house before seven o’clock, but Percy was still asleep. He got to work studying the footage from the day before, and saved the official copy. Later, Percy did the daily log of events, Dan hardly having to correct him. Afterwards, they began Percy’s expenses claim sheet. Dan gave Percy a key to the office. “This door remains locked unless one of us is here.”
Dan’s phone rang. “Felicity, we still okay?”
“Yes Dan. Get here by nine as arranged, and we should be away soon afterwards.”
When they arrived, the Chief Inspector had completed the initial phase of inspection, one that involved Inspector Wigglesworth. They went to her office, where the Inspector was with a powerful man in his late forties. “May I introduce Chief Inspector George Lovell.”
After formalities were completed, the Chief said, “The SIS way out here? I thought you only worked on international cases.”
“We do sir, but some investigations, this one in particular, are related to UK. Much of our work is top secret.”
“Ah yes of course, on a need to know basis. Is there anything you can tell me? This is quite intriguing.”
The Inspector interrupted. “There is a formative official file which I will leave with you. Dan, please check it first.”
She handed him a folder, but removed her private log. Dan flicked through it, reading two sections in detail. “This is fine, and about as much as I could tell you. There may be a little more over the next few days, but that’s about it for now.”
The Inspector took the file and handed it onwards. “Sir, for your eyes-only. Is there anything else?”
“No Felicity, get going. I know you have a lot of travelling ahead of you. I’ll need an hour of your time when you get back, to finalise my visit report. The quicker you leave, the quicker you return, and I can go home.”
They quickly departed, and in Norwich their meetings went well. They were able to go inside two of the three community centres, and got a feel for the general running of the places. Their physical layouts, functions, and even staff were all similar.
Once satisfied, they headed towards Cambridge, Felicity having received approval to visit the day before. They pulled into a large lay-by, the remnants of a road-widening scheme, and set to discuss the morning. Percy opened a large box on the back seat, and said, “One flask of tea, two of coffee, and three large packed meals.”
They ate from the varied selection of sandwiches, sausage rolls, and scooped potato salad or pickles from other containers. Dan said, “I’m stuffed, and there’s still tons left, what a feast.
“So to summarise, from what we have seen and been told. These self-styled Asian community centres are mainly Pakistani, and all provide similar services on similar days.”
Percy added, “Yes, that’s fair to say, but they are not identical. However, they vary only in local issues and slight cultural differences, meaning different roots.
“The main constants are being open from about ten in the morning for twelve hours. Morning is a drop in time, while afternoon features several events of either ethnic or British nature. For instance, traditional dress and customs, is followed by English language, and how to maintain your faith in a Christian country. These are not classes, so much as women’s clubs. They are only for females. There is no male equivalent.
“The late afternoon and early evening are more of a drop in nature, although instruction for girls features highly. I would be more inclined to call it brainwashing in preparation for womanhood.
“Evenings are mainly youth club, but segregated. The boys play games, and the girls study household matters. I asked about trouble, and got little reply, except for oblique references to bullying by older Muslim boys that had left schools a few years before. I got
the impression the presence of these youths was disliked, but common.”
“Thank you Percy. That’s what I deduced. We have a pattern as to how these places function, let’s get on to the next.”
In Cambridge, they were welcomed by the local community police officer. “Constable, thanks for agreeing to see me. These are my assistants, Constable Blodwell, and Advisor Glover.
“I am here to support a project for Norwich Police, dedicated to improving our community relations, and especially with regard to ethnic groups. Two of our three Muslim community centres are new, and we’ve had problems.”
The neighbourhoods were similar to Norwich, but held a brooding air of menace. After visiting two of the Cambridge centres, they moved on to Newmarket, the community centre being central to low-rise blocks of flats. The community policeman informed them, “Many of the established residents have moved out.”
Percy asked, “So new residents are moving in?”
“Yes, although I see little of them. They seem to keep themselves to themselves.”
“Not like British people then.”
“Oh no. These are mainly refugees from the Middle East, North Africa, and a few from Somalia, or so I’ve been told. This is due to Local and County Council level politics. In return, they get EU grants and subsidies.”
“Sounds like they’re coming in by the coach load.”
“Ooh, that’s interesting, and close to the bones of it. There’s an international charity behind it, sanctioned by the councils, and EU. Asians in Need. It’s all part of a governmental refugee crisis alleviation project, and the council is fully supportive of the initiative. The charity have local representatives hereabouts, who liaise with all parties.”
“Where would we find them?”
“Now let me see, their offices are in Luton I believe, but local workers would be up at the new Cappel Moor estate.”
“Where is that?”
“Across the hill from Bollington Fields, the posh part of Newmarket, and near the racecourse. There was hell on when the building proposal was announced, but guarantees were put in place, plus a promised new bypass road, so the posh community would be left alone.”
“What about local hoodlums, gangs, vehicles such as vans, lorries, or coaches?”
“Yes, white van man, there are several. Trucks delivering supplies, and as for buses, only those for the regular day-trips the centre frequently organises. What’s this really about, Percy?”
“As Ma’am stated, we need advice, and eyes-on.”
“Just as well I’m old-school, otherwise I would not have understood you. Walk with me.
“I have nineteen months and twenty-six days to survive, before retirement, and a good pension for life. You?”
“Less than seven months, but counting the days is not for me.”
“You know how this country used to be. Nowadays it’s hard to spot a white man on the street, or hear the English language. And I am not racist. It’s a fact of life.
“The thing I noticed with the daytrip coaches was that I knew the people who went, but I didn’t recognise anyone when they returned, many hours later. They weren’t even Pakistani, Arabs mainly.”
“Surely that has raised the alarm?”
“Nope, nothing. It seems I’m the only person, outside of these communities, to have noticed. I reported it to the Sergeant, but once the Inspector realised it was an ‘Asian’ issue, I was told to drop it. “
“The flats, they’re owned by the residents?”
“No, they’re ex-council, and now owned by a property development group, Anglo Asian Holdings. They came fully furnished, and I presume that is still a contract clause.”
“Where are these people going?”
“I don’t know, and I cannot officially check without approval from the Inspector. My guess is one of the new estates.”
“Cappel Moor?”
“That’s a good guess, Percy. I’ll nose around, see what I can dig up.”
“What about hoodlums?”
“This is not a place to venture late at night. And definitely not for a lone, white, young woman. I know of several ringleaders of what I will politely call ‘businesses’. They are Muslim, with extensive control over this community. Regards local gangs, I had legitimate business here, if brief, but this was conducted at the gate.”
“You did not go inside?”
“No. My younger self would have done so, regardless. I looked up and saw thugs gathering with hostile presence, ambling with menace towards me. The funny thing is, I was there at their request, to deliver information they wanted––community posters and the like.”
“You felt physically threatened?”
“Definitely. I couldn’t wait to get away.”
“What happened?”
“I delivered the package, and raised a report when I got back, highlighting my concerns about intimidation, and nothing happened. I even tried to speak to the Inspector about it, but was told in no uncertain terms, to let it be.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said, ‘We have not got the time or resources to follow this up. If you had reasonable doubt, then you should have taken action. This is filed and closed’. He’s got a degree, and is straight out of college. He understands nothing about the real job.”
Percy thought for a moment, considering the risk versus advantage. “Constable.”
“Jeffrey Daniels, Jeff, please.”
They shook hands. “Perceval Blodwell, Percy to you. Call me the next time you have similar concerns. Here’s my number.”
“Wilco. Here’s mine. There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
Percy smiled, but did not say a word. The slightest nod of head and steely look, was all Jeff received, before they rejoined the others.
Minutes afterwards, they were on the road, and drove through Bollington Fields, assuredly a classical English suburb. By contrast, Cappel Moor estate was more like a military base. There was Asian security monitoring traffic. There was one road in, and it was fronted by show homes, and apart from the English name, all writing was in Arabic. Dan took several snapshots, translating the immediate meanings, and they got the hell out of there, headed for Thetford.
A young, Pakistani constable, who appeared to be overly eager to help, greeted them. Percy began, but Dan and Felicity each took a turn, as the young officer had a knack of diverting important questions. Dan cut their meeting short, just as soon as they had toured the community centre.
They pulled up on rough ground on the outskirts of Thetford, took drinks and sandwiches as they wished, and talked informally. “Newmarket is the one that stands out for me,” said Percy. “I believe we have a contact there in Jeff, the Constable we spoke to. I told him extremely little, but we exchanged numbers, and he is aware we are looking into something bigger, though he has no idea what.”
“You took a chance?”
“No, not exactly Dan. I took a calculated risk, after he told me of some troubles, indicating a gang culture based there. His Inspector had zero interest, and warned him off. Jeff knows something is going on. He will make additional checks, and may say more to us later.”
“Good work Percy, but what are they up too?”
“This was why he wanted to speak to me aside. Local Pakistani people get on the bus in the morning, supposedly for a day trip, of which there are many. They do not return. Instead, much later in the day, the bus arrives back with a load of Arabs. I said nothing of what we knew.”
Felicity said, “You can’t just move people out like that, what about furniture, household goods, personal belongings.”
“From what I was told, Anglo Asian Holdings owns everything hereabouts, the flats are ex-council, and fully furnished, as in ready to be lived in. I believe that when they move out, they are only allowed to take personal items with them.”
“But that means their new homes must also be fully furnished. We need to probe a little deeper.”
Dan agreed, “Yes, see wha
t you can delicately discover, I’ll get my people on it as well.”
Percy said, “Jeff is going to find out what he can. He suspects they are going to Cappel Moor, or another estate. He’ll call me when he knows more.”
“Great work Percy, you are a natural at this. We better head back, there’s still a long way to go.”
When they arrived in the station car park, Percy waited for Dan to escort the Inspector to the rear entrance. “So Felicity, are we on for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, it’s overdue. I’ll aim to be ready for eight, but give you a call when I’m set.
“Oh, and about my father, you chose wisely. The promotion was a great surprise, and much better coming from his own lips. Till later. Ciao.”
Chapter 14 ~ Dinner Date
Dan returned to the village with Percy. He went up to his room, leaving Percy to his own devices. He thought through the day’s events, and noted key points in his private journal. Later he studied OS maps online, noting the Boundary Line website showing all county, city, and town boundaries in the UK. Bollington Fields was in the same electoral ward as Cappel Moor. The new housing estate was growing, and would become larger.
He considered the implications, but would need to do more research, and discover the political make up of Thetford. He would have disregarded an electoral reason being behind the movement of ethnic minorities, except for the numbers that were entering the country, being housed in places like Cappel Moor. Surely, they were not intending to take over town and county councils. He tried to dismiss the thought, but it would not dislodge.
The phone rang at seven, and Dan answered expectantly. “Felicity, you are free?”
“Sorry Dan, another time. The Chief has asked me to dinner, and it is concerned with my present job and future promotion prospects. I would be a fool to forego the opportunity.”
“I’m disappointed, but understand. Do as you must, and I wish you a good evening, and much success.”
“Thanks, for the third night running. Sorry, I promise to make it up to you.”