Karl found his voice at last. “We have photos of Thomas leaving Main Building with a large parcel, along with its dimensions. We have a photo of the Ingersoll key, a match for the ballistics as well as Bob Peterson twice replacing the weapon.”
To Thomas it sounded like a Royal Flush laid out on the table. But Sir Peter’s face suggested he had a killer hand of his own.
“Excellent work, gentlemen. I knew I could rely on you.”
Thomas sat down again; it didn’t make any sense, unless . . .
“You wanted us to find out?” That made even less sense.
Sir Peter raised himself to his full stature. “Are you aware of Eva Fairfield?”
“The Home Office minister.” Karl made it a statement.
Sir Peter stared across the room, as if seeking inspiration. Thomas figured absolution was a more likely objective.
“Eva had a request and she made it very clear I was in no position to refuse. Sidney Morsley murdered a little girl and she wanted justice. Real justice. There was a distant family connection. Blood for blood.”
Karl was ahead of him. “But you had your misgivings so you laid a trail for us.”
Thomas shook his head. “It wasn’t conscience, Karl. He couldn’t bear to be under her control — he had too much to lose.” He glared at Sir Peter. “At least it was personal for her, but you — you don’t have a conscience. And why choose Ken?”
“Because of you, Thomas. I knew I could rely on your mistrust, and your loyalty to Karl. I involved Bob Peterson, as a contingency, because — unlike you — he’d do exactly as I told him and not ask questions.”
Thomas’s hand was throbbing again, aching to become a fist. Karl took one look and spoke again.
“And what about the second murder?”
“Eva contacted me again — a series of incidents would take the media’s attention off Morsley, to say nothing of the saving to the British taxpayer. Public opinion seems to be on her side.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” Thomas had heard enough. “You really are a monster. I’m going home, Karl. You do . . . whatever . . .” He pushed away the air between them.
“Hold on, Tommo — let’s think this through.” Karl showed no sign of moving.
Sir Peter adjusted one of his cufflinks. “Name your terms, Mr Bladen.”
Thomas reached the middle of the room and faced the negotiation table. The bastard was smiling. He wondered if Karl would intervene if he made a move on him. Even Thomas knew he was more valuable where they could see him. “You give Ken Treavey his life back. And this . . . Eva Fairfield? She has to go — within a month. You take care of this, Karl. Or, so help me, I’ll find another, more public way to resolve this.”
He left them to it.
Chapter 51
It hadn’t occurred to Thomas that Miranda would hardly have been given directions to the safe house. Ann drove, and he listened.
“Bob asked me to give you this, recovered from the site. He said he hasn’t watched it.”
Thomas held the DVD between his fingertips, as if it might contaminate him. Someone had written his initials on it in permanent marker.
“Karl has his own and Bob gave him the others, as a show of good faith.”
“Others?” he felt a knot in his stomach.
Ann glanced over earnestly. “Charlie Stokes kept meticulous records. Apart from you and Karl there were at least a dozen more victims.”
“And the chemist?”
“Arrested and detained.”
Thomas fell silent, thinking about a suitable punishment for Roland Dolan and Paulette Villers. They’d each played their part.
Miranda told Ann where to pull over.
“We’ll call you in a few days, unless you’re fit for duty before then.”
“Understood. The sooner I get back to normality the better.” Even he smiled at that; this was normality.
* * *
There were five messages at the flat, but there was something he had to do first. Miranda assured him she understood when he disappeared into his darkroom with a laptop and some headphones. There were fragments of memory floating around in his head and it wasn’t enough. He needed to make sense of everything and the only way to do that was to face his demons.
The footage was grainy with sound — a typical CCTV rig. Ray and Charlie were difficult to decipher unless they got close to the radiator; there must have been a mic on the light fitting. That also explained the constant low hum in the background.
He felt a twinge in his guts when the two figures approached on-screen and force-fed him the poison — the ‘medicine.’ The body remembered. As the sweat prickled his forehead he got up from the laptop to catch his breath. He fast-forwarded until he saw the prisoner straining to get free, screaming about the darkness, the contours of his face briefly visible as he strained forward against the hood.
Ray asked the questions. Sometimes Charlie observed. He seemed to like doing that. He’d prompt Ray in a whisper then stand to one side to watch the whole thing at close quarters, studying the prisoner.
Thomas made notes of the questions and any keywords in his responses. Those he could understand, anyway. He worked through the interrogations methodically, searching for confirmation of a half-remembered dream.
Charlie and Ray, facing off. “I warned you not to get involved with Natalie. Just like I warned you not to pick on the kid.”
Ray had stood his ground, a pit bull to Charlie’s mastiff. “Jacob was a happy accident. Now Jack’s wound tighter than a spring and I’m in his bed.”
Charlie had stormed off, but Ray stayed, squatting down next to Thomas. “Absolute power — that’s the drug, Thomas. I can do anything. I could cut you now and you wouldn’t even remember — or choke you.” He grabbed him in a stranglehold and all Thomas could hear was himself choking. Then a gasp of breath as Ray released him. “I own you.” He leaned back and head-butted him, the crack smashing Thomas against the radiator.
Ray turned around for the camera and stared back from the grave. Thomas clicked the mouse to pause the footage, matching the gaze of a dead man. It wasn’t justice, but it would have to do.
He watched the rest of the recording with a clinical eye, writing down details as if it were another SSU job. His detachment only faltered again when Charlie had come to see him alone. Once the hood was raised, on-screen, Thomas had a fleeting flashback.
“Ray doesn’t understand, but I do.” Charlie waved the bug in front of Thomas’s face. “I would have picked you up anyway after your interest in Paulette and young Roland. You’re more than a Benefits snooper, though. Karl, I already knew about, but you . . . the Cartel will be very interested in what you’ve got to say.”
Thomas noted, to his shame, that he answered all Charlie’s questions about Karl and their counter-intelligence work. He didn’t reveal much, thank God, because he still didn’t know a great deal — full marks to Karl on that front. He slipped the headphones off again and rubbed his eyes.
Miranda rapped on the door lightly. “Thomas? I didn’t want to disturb you but Karl just rang — I didn’t answer it. I’m popping out for some food. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
He let her know he was okay and checked the time. He’d been in there nearly two hours. When he heard the front door click behind her he ventured out into daylight and rang Karl back.
“How are you holding up, Thomas?”
“I’m fine.” He actually meant it. “How’s the arm?”
“Sprained, I think. It seems I put up more resistance than was good for me.” Karl sighed like a carthorse. “I should never have got you in so deep.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, a little sharper than before. “Occupational hazard.” He read the silence and knew there was more to be said.
“It’s been decided that Ray Daniels is officially only missing. It’s useful to have a phantom out there — it’ll keep Jack Langton on his toes as well.”
Once again, expediency over the truth
. Thomas gripped the phone.
“Ray was responsible . . . for Jacob.”
“Ah well, justice has been served on that account. He was a dead man walking — Charlie too. Once they’d interrogated us I couldn’t have risked compromising other operatives. If it hadn’t been Ken, or you, I would have killed them myself.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Karl didn’t answer. It didn’t matter; Thomas understood. You could never really negotiate with monsters. Maybe Eva Fairfield saw that as well. Silver bullet, wooden stake, Browning pistol, or counter-intelligence — choose your weapon.
“I’ll get my DVD to you. I’ve made notes as well but it’s best to be thorough.”
“Your notes will suffice, Thomas; I trust you.” He said it like he meant it. “Destroy the DVD — you might find it therapeutic! Be seeing ya.”
Thomas smiled. “Soon, I hope.”
Time for one more call. He kept it brief and Natalie Langton never knew what hit her.
“It’s Thomas. Charlie Stokes is dead and Ray’s gone. I’m seeing Jack in a few days to give him the news, so you have time to pack if you want to leave.”
He didn’t have to spell it out for her. She begged and pleaded, said that Ray had used her and that Jack didn’t need to know. Both were probably true.
“Please — I can pay you, Thomas; I’ve got money here.”
“I’m not for sale.”
No, but she was. Maybe Karl could use her as a spy on the inside, to keep tabs on Jack when he got out of prison. She took the deal; it was the best offer on the table. He’d text Karl about it later.
By the time Miranda returned with a curry he had plates on the table and An Inspector Calls cued up in the player — an old-fashioned morality tale. His hand smarted from snapping his DVD into shards. Karl was right — it felt good.
Chapter 52
Although John had offered to accompany him to Wormwood Scrubs Thomas decided to go alone. Better to say his piece in relative privacy. He watched the swarm of commuters moving through the network, untroubled by the myriad of cameras — overt and covert — or the electronic footprint they were leaving. Maybe the populace was better off living in ignorance; give him the unadorned truth any day.
He picked up a tabloid as he left East Acton Tube and browsed the first few pages while a bus thundered by. Home Office minister Eva Fairfield had decided to step down from her role and seek out new opportunities. He smiled skyward: how noble of her. The article reported that the Home Secretary was saddened by her departure and felt she had made a unique contribution. That was one way of putting it.
His Surveillance Support Unit ID card won him the hands-on treatment again from the prison officers’ welcoming committee. He didn’t make a fuss; it wasn’t like he planned on coming back. He followed procedure and then did the slow shuffle to the visitors’ hall to await an audience.
Jack Langton had the same swagger as the late Mr Stokes. Thomas smiled and offered his hand.
“Any news?” Jack blinked a couple of times, as though seeing something different.
Thomas stared, keeping his voice monotone. “Charlie Stokes is dead — there’ll be no more trouble . . .”
Jack grinned from ear to ear.
“ . . . I haven’t finished. Ray Daniels has disappeared.”
The tip of Jack’s tongue poked out of his mouth, tasting the future. “If Ray’s not around, there’s a vacancy — if you’re interested?”
Thomas’s face hardened. “No. I know what he’s capable of.”
“Well, look.” Jack leaned back, fingers laced behind his head like he owned the place. “I owe you, and I’m a man who keeps his word. Name your price.”
“Really?”
“Within reason, yeah!” Jack was grinning again.
“Stay away from the Wrights in future, and Sheryl. Not even a postcard. Your word, remember?” Thomas got up to leave. “Because I know everything about you now, Jack — everything.”
THE END
ALSO BY DEREK THOMPSON
This is the third book in the series featuring Thomas Bladen
Get the first two now!
BOOK 1: STANDPOINT
The woman he's always loved is in danger
Thomas Bladen works in surveillance for a shadowy unit of the British government. During a routine operation, he sees a shooting which exposes a world of corruption and danger. When his on-again, off-again girlfriend Miranda is drawn into the conspiracy, Thomas must decide who he can trust to help him save her life
http://www.amazon.co.uk/STANDPOINT-gripping-thriller-full-suspense-ebook/dp/B00UVQBVVU/
http://www.amazon.com/STANDPOINT-gripping-thriller-full-suspense-ebook/dp/B00UVQBVVU/
BOOK 2: LINE OF SIGHT
http://www.amazon.co.uk/LINE-SIGHT-gripping-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B00XIOAOBK/
http://www.amazon.com/LINE-SIGHT-gripping-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B00XIOAOBK/
A young woman lies dead at an army base. Was it really an accident?
When Amy Johanson is killed during a weapons test, Thomas and his partner Karl are determined to get to the bottom of it. They must protect Amy's friend Jess, the only witness they have, who plays a dangerous game of seduction and lies. Meanwhile, Thomas’s girlfriend Miranda and her family are once again put in the firing line.
Can Thomas get justice for Amy, solve the mystery of Karl’s past, and decide who he can really trust?
Characters and Notes
The UK Surveillance Support Unit loans out specialist and support teams to other government departments, including law enforcement and intelligence agencies. Those other departments refer to SSU staff as 'floaters' — it's not a term of endearment.
The Shadow State is a European infrastructure outside of the legal and political process. It functions as an alliance of corporations, politicians, the military and business leaders, operating as a clandestine United States of Europe. It is also known as 'the cartel' and trades in various commodities, including drugs, technology, information and weapons.
Main Characters
Thomas Bladen is a Yorkshire-born photographer, who brought runaway Miranda back to her family on London when they met in their teens. He has been with the SSU for nearly three years. He has five numbers stored in his phone and that's probably two more than he needs.
While always at peace on his native and elemental Yorkshire moors, Thomas's home is now London, where the East End and the north-east of the capital are inextricably linked with Miranda.
London is a city of contrasts — 2000 years of history and culture layered like rock strata and shaped by subterranean forces. As a photographer he sees the hidden beauty in the ancient streets of a modern, thriving city; as a surveillance officer he sees everything other people don't want him to.
Karl McNeill left Northern Ireland in his teens and joined the SSU after leaving the British army in circumstances he has never revealed. He is part of the intelligence war against the Shadow State. His closest SSU ally is Thomas, but he is not above using him, if the ends justify the means.
Miranda Wright is Thomas's lover and his Achilles heel. She owns Caliban's, a bar in London's East End. She also has secrets to hide, even from Thomas.
John Wright and Diane Wright are parents to Miranda and her two brothers. They met in a casino and have an ambiguous relationship with the tax office. Their motto is family comes first and they treat Thomas as one of their own.
Ken Treavey served in the British army with Karl, who owes him a debt that Ken wants to collect.
Sir Peter Carroll is the Director General of the SSU. He is also under the control of Karl's people, following his exposure as a member the Shadow State.
Jack Langton is a small-time drug dealer and crook with aspirations, buying his way into respectability by investing in the modern art scene. Currently in prison, he has no idea that Thomas and Karl helped put him there.
Charlie Stokes is Jack's business rival with big ambitions an
d a penchant for cruelty. With Jack in prison, Charlie thinks it's an opportunity to expand his empire.
Ray Daniels is Jack Langton's associate and takes care of things while Jack's in prison, those things include Jack's wife.
Glossary of British Slang Terms
British slang: US equivalent
’appened: happened
’ead: head
’eck: heck (expression of surprise or emphasis)
’em: them
’un: one
aggro: stress
arse: ass
arseholes: assholes
arsed: bothered
asap: as soon as possible
Bagpuss: popular 1970s children's TV character
beddy-byes: bed (childish)
benefits: similar to welfare (but more generous, can include payments for unemployment, housing costs, disability etc) paid by the British government to eligible claimants.
bhuna: a type of Indian curry
Billy-no-mates: someone who is friendless or alone
bladdered: very drunk
bollocksed: ruined / helpless
Brize Norton: an airbase in England
colandered: peppered with holes
comms: communications
co-ord: co-ordination
cuppa: cup of tea
d’ya: did you
des res: desirable residence — a nice place to live
don't ’ang about: don't delay
dunno: don't know
friendlies: non-competitive soccer matches
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