The Desolate Garden

by Daniel Kemp

  “You really are a sexist pig, aren't you? Would you feel uncomfortable if our roles were reversed, and you were surrounded by beautiful women all staring at you, lusting after your body? Of course I'm comfortable, you twit!”

  “Well, I wouldn't go that far. I can understand the use of the phrase lusting after me if the roles were reversed. In your case, it might well be that they're thinking about what you live on apart from air, or wondering what a handsome fellow like me is doing with such a scrawny girl. They do look confused, wouldn't you say?” We sat at the end of the long white scrubbed table with our mugs, and Judy's eyes seemed to be everywhere other than on me.

  “Go on, Harry. You were about to fill me in on the UN. Don't ask again if I'm comfortable here…it's warmer.”

  “I can see that. Are you sure that you're able to concentrate?”

  “Even better. Now go on, and show off.”

  “I took part in Operation Resolute in 1995 as part of the implementation force, or IFOR, at the end of the Bosnian War, following the Dayton Agreement. My role was in gathering military intelligence on two individuals a Bosnian named Dario Kordic, and a Serb named Milomir Stakic, both of whom have been tried and sentenced to forty-year prison sentences. I've kept in touch with my commanding officer from those days, and have met him several times. He will be here later today for the funeral. He's at the MOD now, collating information for the NATO forces operating over Libya. Anyway, when I was recruited into the SIS we met in London, and I stayed at his house for a few days. On the Friday he and his wife had a dinner party, and among the guests was a guy that worked in the same sort of field as myself for Pfizer, the American drug company. Sandy, that's Sandy Barrington my ex-chief, and I were chatting about our days in IFOR, when this guy joined in the conversation. It moved on to chemicals used in warfare, and he asked if we had come across any usage in Bosnia, particularly in hostage taking. Part of the evidence against Kordic concerned a concentration camp at a village called Ormarska, where it was found that experiments were conducted using an analgesic pain suppressant drug.

  It was a war within a war: Bosnian Croats against Bosnian Serbs against Serbia and Croatia with Bosnia Herzegovina as a side line. No one knew who was fighting who, most of the time. In the concentration camp, it was simpler. It was run by Serbs holding non-Serbs, and some of them were selected for these experiments. They were given ever-increasing dosages of an opioid-based drug, and then subjected to ever-increasing levels of pain. The drug used was Fentanyl, a hundred times more powerful than morphine, for which there is a worldwide shortage. Did you know that six countries in the world use and hold almost eighty percent of the supply of morphine? No matter just thought I'd throw in, show how intelligent I am.

  Pharmaceutical companies are searching for a substitute, and some of what they have come up with are killers as well as pain-suppressants. The guy was an American…Doug someone. He had a great deal of knowledge of this Fentanyl and its derivatives. According to him, it had been used by Mossad to kill a Hamas leader in 1997, and by the Russians in 2002 when Chechens held hostages in a theatre in Moscow. Another use is in recreational drugs. It's called China White on the streets when mixed with heroin and gives a greater sense of euphoria and feelings of untouchability, it commands a great premium, so he told us. It was a German company, taken over by Smith Kline Beecham, that discovered Fentanyl, and none of the conversation that night at Sandy's house had any bearing on me, or Elliot and Edward's death until I contacted Sandy again this week and mentioned your question about the UN in Bosnia.

  As far as I knew the UN were not involved, but almost every major country in or out of the UN were, including Russia. I knew there was a UN arms embargo, and again they got involved when it came to Kosovo recognition after the NATO bombing of Belgrade in 2000. Sandy knew more. There was a UN delegation visit to Ormarska at the end of the war, to a chemical stabilisation unit, led by a British scientist. Apparently they wanted to examine Fentanyl with the idea of using it for military purposes as a lollipop for pain killers. You can suck on it if you're wounded and still kill people, what will they think of next? I looked it up, and recently a derivative has been accepted as a cancer treatment. The licence for Fentanyl, along with every derivative, is held by Smith Kline Beecham and its manufacture should be governed by that company and controlled in distribution, but do you know that it's already available in Brazil and India? And, of course, Russia, where I suspect there are a lot of lollipops just in case. Did you know that Sir Raymond was on the board at Smith Kline Beecham and his son is a major shareholder and, I believe, a Russian spy?”

  “That's a great deal of research you and Sandy have done. If what you're alleging is true, it will be catastrophic for the government. It could bring it falling at our feet,” she declared quietly.

  “Not necessarily. Most of this happened before the last election but then again, you knew about the delegation to Ormarska and what it was for, didn't you, when you asked that question about the UN?” I asked.

  “No, not really. It was a shot in the dark, actually. I joined up in 2002 after it had all finished over there, but there was a dossier doing the rounds about leakages from America and from Russia which we weren't being directly spoken about. GCHQ had traffic emanating out of the UN in New York and out from Moscow which they couldn't analyse. All we knew was that both America and Russia had been compromised. As we weren't being told about the stories coming out of Moscow, we couldn't tell our erstwhile cousins anything about the intercepts, and they wouldn't have liked the idea of us listening in on their private conversations. Antony Willis was at both the Foreign Office and the Home Office, and I just threw it up in the air seeing if it landed on solid ground, that's all. Now there's a part of me that wished I hadn't.” Her gaze was now directly on me.

  “Do you know who was the scientist leading that delegation, Judy, or would you like me to share his name just in case it wasn't on that dossier?”

  “If it's relevant, then yes, Harry, please enlighten me.”

  “David Kelly.”

  “What, that wasn't on there!” she exclaimed in utter surprise.

  “No, it was mysteriously removed, so I'm not surprised you never saw it. When was that delegation sent, Judy?”

  “I think it was in 1997, not long after the election, when we all embraced Islington socialism as the second coming.” She was still in shock and put both elbows on the table, leaning closer towards me, her mouth slightly open and I wanted so much to kiss her. But I didn't!

  “Let's go forward a few years, and here I might need some guidance. Wasn't there a British Ambassador who gave evidence at that Hutton Enquiry, said he met Kelly in Geneva and asked him what would happen if Iraq were to be invaded? Do you remember what he said in reply?”

  “He said that he, Kelly, would probably be found dead in the woods, Harry.”

  “That's right. And the ambassador thought he meant that the Iraqis would kill him, didn't he?”

  “Yes, that's what he said.”

  “Do you remember the ambassador's name, Judy?”

  “David someone, I believe.”

  “Almost spot on. David Richmond he served with Sir Raymond when they were at different British consulates in Athens.”

  “Is that important?” she asked, but I declined to answer that question, I didn't want speculation to interfere with what I knew to be factual. “They said that Kelly was in contact with what they called dissidents inside defence intelligence, and that his remark about the Labour Government over-sexing the WMD report was made to further their aims in calling for a rethink. Is that right?”

  “In essence, yes.”

  “You remember all this so clearly because of why, Judy?”

  “Because of Tony, of course. My one, not the lying cretinous one. It was the first chance for anyone to get at some of the truth that they had been covering up. Why there were no weapons of mass destruction pointed at UK bases in Cyprus, for example.” We were both running on pure adren
aline at this stage. I asked another question as soon as she had stopped speaking.

  “Now for the biggest cover-up answer of all time. The sexing up was in line with available intelligence to the Joint Intelligence Committee who may have been subconsciously influenced by HM Government…is that what was said?”

  “Most definitely yes. I can almost see the squirt who wrote that sitting next to the cretin.” Wide green eyes answering with hate written inside them.

  “Just for old time's sake, Judy when did the cretin step down in 2007?”

  “In June, late June, Harry, if I recall correctly. He stayed around long enough to do what you're suggesting, and then did a runner. I hate to say it, but you could be right and not about to hit your thumb instead of the nail!” The smile that emanated after that remark was not, unfortunately, her usual radiant one.

  “I'm sorry to disturb you, your Lordship, but there is a Sir David Haig on the telephone for you,” Joseph announced, on his arrival in the kitchen. As to how he had known that I was there I never did find out.

  Chapter Forty-Four: The Compost Pile

  “He's in custody, Harry. It's over…all of it.”

  “I only wish it was, David. There's the small matter of a killer still at large, plus I think Judith here is about to add to your many troubles.” There were six hours to go before the two black state carriages pulled by two teams of four matching black horses arrived for the caskets, and what remained of the immediate Paterson family led the way to St Michael's and All Angels to attend the obsequies.

  “Has he said anything?” I asked, praying that he had, but knowing that it wouldn't be that simple. “I was only told ten minutes ago, but don't worry, he will,” David replied, confidently. Although one part of me shared that confidence, another part, the rational side, wondered if all would be revealed.

  “You should be looking happier than you are, H. You were right, and you have stopped him. The interrogation will get it out of him Harry, I know the methods.” Somewhere those words from Judy found a resting place but it wasn't in my heart. We were back in my office and Judy was touching my hand, but not even that, nor her approval, could lighten the depression I felt.

  “Why should he tell us, Judy? What's another murder to him? He's implicated in Edward's death, but by what? He was a member of the same club and used a name that had been used for a proposed meeting with a British spy. That's all we've got. Okay, his belt is undone, but the trousers are still hanging around his waist. If my suppositions are correct, then it goes deeper than just this one man. Maybe your cretin isn't involved directly with him, but you can trace their paths crossing on many occasions. It will take months, Judy, possibly years to unravel. Joint Intelligence, SIS, Defence, the FO everyone will want a piece of him. I doubt that the murders will be mentioned at all, and if they are, they will only be a side show to the wider picture. If members of the previous government were compromised or, at best, naïve in their appointments, the repercussions will be immense. With the cost of whitewash on the High Street set to rise through the roof. Tell me something…did nobody think it strange that a single man had been given one of the highest chairs in which to park his bum? Or, was it just taken as gospel that things were as they were being told?”

  “A few down the pecking order made comment, but we all assumed that God knew what he was doing. With hindsight, now that the dead Sir Gordon Spencer has been exposed and his shared preferences with the man he appointed let out of the closet, it should never have happened. But then, nobody knew.”

  “You can't be sure of that. Maybe the cretin knew. Maybe he was party to the appointment. After all said and done, he would be the one who would sign off on it. Another thing I found out was what our man did when he signed on the dotted line way back when. He was sent burrowing into Harold Wilson's Labour Party becoming an aid, and probably a confidant, to the Home Secretary of the day. A man once described by Wilson as more a socialite than a socialist because of his lavish lifestyle. That same man was in charge, you know, when George Blake made that miraculous escape from Wormwood Scrubs, and he even kept his job in the Cabinet after it. Other notable achievements he went on to make in parliament were the decriminalisation of homosexuality, being made head of the European Union, getting a peerage, and cancelling a military aircraft so far advanced in avoiding radar that it had the Americans dribbling in envy and the grateful Russians rubbing and clapping their hands together, not bad for the son of a miner from the Valleys. Oh, one more thing…he became an advisor for the chosen one you referred to…the cretin himself. Now if our man pointed him in the wrong direction at the beginning, particularly in getting Blake back to Russia, then who knows how far cretin's mind was influenced? Maybe as far as direct contact with Moscow centre. That, fortunately, is not my concern, but George and Tanya are. I need help, Judy, and I need it fast.” I willingly gave up the speaker's platform and welcomed her involvement.

  “I've had a thought, H. Want to hear it?”

  “Can't resist. Does it involve churches and rings?” I cracked, trying desperately to lift the gloom that I felt. It was instinctive.

  “I'll take a pass on that one, Harry. Let's get back to the point. When he used the name Geoffrey Rowell to meet Paulo in Berlin, it was to mark him as the target for the man he uses as his assassin. He maybe many things but as you say he's not your killer. It would have been too awkward to take photographs. Paulo would have noticed. But an onlooker, another person inside or outside the hotel could have taken one. I don't think even he would have registered that. With Edward, it was the same idea. Join the same club, socialise, then point him out for the future kill. Paulo said as much. George would be at the funeral for our man to identify and then either describe him or, point him out and say within earshot, There he is go about your work when I'm not around. Seem reasonable to you, H?”

  “I'm right behind you, Judith. Got the ring in my inside pocket.” Still trying to keep my shattered dreams alive, I replied. “Then why don't you contact Sir David again and ask if Edward signed a guest in at that club anytime before he was murdered?”

  “Good idea, but there's no need. With that photograph I sent over to Haig I attached an email asking the same question, Judith. I've got the answer right here. Want to take a stab at it or do you already know what it says” Not shattered any longer, now destroyed.

  “Not on the same page, Harry, sorry. Care to elaborate?”

  “Do you remember I told you about some photographs taken at Maudlin's funeral that I had discovered? It was when you told me about your great-grandfather knowing him, and how your grandfather had attended his funeral. Well, I had another couple of photos emailed to me earlier this morning from Sandy. One was of Sir Raymond, one of those I didn't recognise at Maudlin's entombment. But there was another of Sir Raymond, taken a good few years before his death, with his adopted son, and guess who's holding the other hand? Can you see her? An eleven year old girl with red flaming hair, looking remarkably like a younger version of you? Am I right Judith? I asked with a huge lump in my throat. “You should consider your answer carefully.” I added, swallowing hard.

  It broke my heart what I believed to be true, but then again the old proverb of — There's no fool like an old fool must have been made up for a reason…And I was it. There was a sigh from her to begin with, and then a confession that ached every part of my body.

  “Hmm…you really are a clever man, Harry. I wondered if I might have been in one of those snaps that you found. Is that when you first started to suspect me?” There was no pride in her question and no pity left in my heart to answer her. She had stood by now and had her back to me, staring out of the French doors to where we had sat only a few hours previously. There was no conceit in her voice; only sadness. I gave in to my own sense of shame.

  “You know what, Judith? I tried not to. I even thought that I had fallen in love with you…almost told you so, and had my head bitten off. Could say I'm pleased I didn't, but deep inside I can't be sure about
that. If it wasn't for the photograph and Sandy, who knows? You might still be waiting for a chance at George even though Paulo's been unearthed.” There was no reaction from her and I'm not sure what I would have done had there been.

  “Looking back, there were little things that puzzled me. Like why was a case officer running a file on the Patersons and why such vehement distress when Paulo vanished? Both could have been explained, but when the photo of Sir Raymond came through…I knew, then. And I knew where you had gone last Saturday night.”

  “I wasn't going to kill George, Harry!” She still had her back to me as if saying I'm defenceless, spare me!

  “Oh, that's nice of you, I'll tell him, shall I, or do you want the honours? How many in total, Judith? Done it before, tried it, liked the thrill? Get a huge buzz out of Edward, did you?” The anger inside of me was building, but I think it was directed at me as much as her. I had been such a fool.

  “I'll tell you something, H, now that it's too late. If you had proposed I would have turned you down…not because I don't love you, but because I do. I wasn't going ahead with his plan; I was looking for a way out. I made up my mind before tonight. Before you found out. It was only a matter of time anyway, and I knew that I couldn't cover his back for long. I even told him that. You won't believe this, but that's why I suggested that you get back to Sir David and ask if anyone had been signed in as his guest to that club. I wanted to be caught in the end. Don't ever worry about that bomb, Harry. I knew what I was doing when I assembled it. I learned more from Tony than just how to worry without showing it.” Another sigh but still no face to accuse.

  “Why Edward, Judy? You had me by then…surely you both knew that I would lead you to who was supplying Paulo?”