‘The DNA profiles,’ she said, handing over a printout.
Harvey took it and skimmed the contents until he got to the section that compared mother with child.
‘Looks like I owe you an apology,’ he said. ‘Is this a hundred per cent accurate?’
‘Checked and double-checked,’ she said with a smile. ‘The kid isn’t hers.’
Harvey rose. ‘Let’s go and have a word with her.’
‘Wait.’ Sarah pushed him back into his seat. ‘It gets better. Remember Khadija Tawfeek, the woman who died in the back of the truck? The post-mortem showed a cerebral haemorrhage. The autopsy also revealed that Khadija was a haemophiliac, the reason for the bleed-out. As you know, standard toxicology tests are performed post-mortem, but they found nothing. I asked them to run the enhanced tests, and they got a hit.’
‘What was it?’
‘A combination of corticosteroid, amphetamine and warfarin. It was a big enough dose to induce acute hypertension and, coupled with her existing condition, was enough to cause the haemorrhage.’
‘So she was killed?’
‘That’s the MD’s opinion.’
‘Which begs the question: why?’
Harvey logged into the police database and brought up Tawfeek’s file. He clicked the tab to show the images, and found one of her final resting place. He’d seen it before, when the report had first come through, but he’d only glanced at it. Now he studied it more carefully, and immediately the scene looked all wrong.
‘Look at this,’ he said. ‘There’s a ditch three yards away from where she was dumped. It would have been a lot easier to throw her in there and cover the body than going to all the trouble of digging a shallow grave.’
‘It’s almost as if they wanted her to be found,’ Sarah said.
‘If that’s the case, then why leave the X3 inside her? Surely they’d want to remove it first.’
‘If they had, it would have been a simple homicide. It certainly wouldn’t have reached our desks. Something tells me they wanted us to find her—’
‘So that we could follow the trail to Malika and the others,’ Harvey interrupted.
‘Exactly.’
He sat back in his chair. ‘But how could they be sure that we would even know about the X3 being stolen?’
‘When Frank Dale briefed us about it, he said the source of the tip-off had been anonymous. What if it’s been Nabil Karim all along? He could have been making sure we knew what we had and how important it was that we find the rest of it.’
‘Let’s backtrack,’ Harvey said. ‘We’re saying Karim sends five women over here with the X3. He has one of them killed and left relatively out in the open so that she’s easy to find, knowing we would be able to trace the others in the party. That sound right so far?’
‘It does,’ Sarah agreed. ‘And having found the other four, one of them conveniently starts to spill the beans, and we swallow everything she says.’
Harvey looked up at her. ‘Go ahead, you can say it.’
‘I told you so.’
CHAPTER 24
Wednesday, 16 August 2017
Malika sat on the bed in her cell and looked over at the crib, where Jalal was sleeping off his most recent feed. He was a good boy, never any trouble, and that had made her task all that much easier. She was growing quite attached to him, but she knew it was too late for that.
She checked her watch. Less than thirty-six hours to hold out, and so far she had them eating out of her hand. They’d fallen for everything she’d told them, just as Nabil Karim had assured her they would. She just wished she could be a fly on the wall, watching them chase their tails as they focused their attention on Imran al-Hosni.
Karim’s plan had been simple yet masterful. Give them all the clues they needed, but all pointing to the wrong man.
She’d been so grateful when the short MI5 agent had mentioned al-Hosni in the interrogation room. It not only showed that Karim’s planning had been spot on, but it also provided her with the perfect opportunity to reinforce their suspicions. She’d mainly been left alone after that. No doubt the agents had their hands full keeping track of all their targets.
The only downside had been the death of Khadija. The other three women had been genuinely upset at the discovery of her body in the back of the truck, but Malika had known it was coming. Khadija’s death had been manufactured to ensure the phial of X3 was discovered, leaving a trail back to her and the others – a trail the authorities would be sure to follow after Karim leaked news of the attack at the chemical-weapons storage facility. It had only been a matter of time before MI5 picked them up, and their asylum applications had helped the process along. All she’d had to do from that point on was convince them that the boy was the only thing she cared about. The other three women had done as they’d been instructed, and had said nothing beyond confirming their names.
Malika had often wondered what the target would be, but she would find out soon enough if the British agents’ incompetence continued. The target was the one thing Karim hadn’t told her, just in case they somehow managed to break her. The Friday deadline was fast approaching, and though she wouldn’t be able to witness it herself, she hoped to live long enough to hear the glorious details.
The door to her cell opened and the blonde woman entered, an unfamiliar smile on her face. Up to this point, her manner had been cold, stand-offish. Malika was immediately on her guard.
‘Time for another chat,’ the woman said.
Malika went to pick up Jalal, but the blonde quickly got between her and the crib. ‘Not this time.’
‘I will only talk if my son is in there with me.’
The blonde seized her arm and twisted it, forcing Malika to double over in agony. ‘That privilege has been revoked.’
The woman forced Malika out of the cell and along the corridor to the interrogation suite, where Agent Harvey waited.
The woman pushed Malika into the chair and stood behind her, out of sight but close enough that Malika could sense her presence.
‘I want my son with me,’ she told Harvey, rubbing her wrist.
‘No problem. Tell us where he is.’
‘He’s in the cell.’
‘Oh,’ Harvey said. ‘You mean Jalal. Well, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.’
So that’s what she was doing, Malika thought. Someone in a nurse’s uniform had come into her cell, supposedly to check that Jalal and she hadn’t contracted a virus that had been prevalent in the building, but they clearly must have been conducting DNA checks.
There had always been the possibility that this moment would come, and Malika was prepared for it.
‘So he isn’t my son, what difference does it make?’
‘Well, for starters, it means everything you’ve told us is lies,’ Harvey said.
‘I had to do it. My own son died two years ago, and Karim told me there would be no chance of getting into the country if I had been on my own. That’s why he made me take Jalal.’
‘So who does the boy really belong to?’
‘He’s an orphan. His parents were killed in a bombing months ago. I’ve been looking after him as if he were my own.’
She studied her adversary, but couldn’t tell if her words had been believed. She soon got her answer, but from the blonde.
‘Bullshit! You’ve been playing us from the start!’
‘I swear, I’m telling you the truth.’
‘If that’s the case, tell me about when you were sealed into the heating units on the truck.’
‘I already told you a hundred times.’
‘Tell us again,’ the blonde barked.
Malika had rehearsed the scene many times, and launched into her second rendition. It took her three minutes to tell them everything up to the point where Khadija’s body had been discovered.
‘Thanks,’ Harvey said, and left the room, leaving Malika to ponder her next move.
Once the door was closed, Harvey asked So
lomon to replay Malika’s latest account of the truck stop. While listening, he read from the printed transcript. He made notes as he listened and, when the recording ended, he handed the sheet to Sarah.
‘As I expected,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what she has to say about it.’
They went back into the room and Harvey took his usual seat. Sarah stood behind him, arms crossed as she stared at Malika.
‘I’ve just compared your last answer with the one you gave on Monday, and there are a few discrepancies,’ Harvey said. ‘How do you explain that?’
Malika shrugged. ‘I can’t be expected to remember every detail.’
‘Well, that’s the thing,’ he said, passing her the transcript. ‘The details were exactly the same. Your story only differed by a handful of words. I’ve never come across anything like that.’
‘What he means,’ Sarah added, ‘is that it sounds like you’re reciting something you’ve memorised. Like a song you sing to yourself over and over. I think you started rehearsing that speech before you even left Syria. We know Khadija was murdered by the truck driver and her body was left so that it would be easy to find, leading conveniently back to you.’
Malika swallowed nervously, a simple tell confirming that she’d been lying to them all along. A false trail for them to follow, which surely included the phone call from Birmingham: another way of misdirecting precious government resources to chase shadows.
‘It’s clear that Imran al-Hosni hasn’t got the nerve agent,’ he said. ‘If you don’t tell us who has it, you’ll be charged with accessory to murder. You’ll spend the rest of your days behind bars.’
Malika coughed and licked her lips. ‘I’d like a Coca-Cola.’
‘After you start talking,’ Harvey said, but Malika coughed again and shook her head.
‘I’ll get one,’ Sarah said, and swiped her card at the door, leaving the two of them alone.
‘We know it’s going to be used soon,’ Harvey said. ‘I need to know who has it and what the target is.’
Malika remained silent, and Harvey wondered what the next step would be. If she weren’t forthcoming, there would be little he could threaten her with apart from harsh words. Not even the danger of losing her ‘son’ would get her talking. The only way to get her to open up would be to hand her over to E Squadron and let them work their magic, though doing so would mean admitting to the Home Secretary that they weren’t capable of doing their job.
Harvey thought about Tom Gray, a good friend who believed in law and order but who wasn’t afraid to overstep the mark in order to get results. He would be a great asset right about now, but he was somewhere in Italy and there simply wasn’t time to track him down and get him on a plane.
No, if Malika were going to break, he would have to break her himself.
Sarah swiped her way back in and placed the unopened can of Coke on the table. ‘Start talking. Who has the nerve agent?’
Malika opened the can and took a long sip, then held it in her hands as she stared at Harvey. ‘I wasn’t given that information. I admit I was told to give you al-Hosni, but that was all. Karim didn’t tell me who actually had it. He said it would be safer for me if I didn’t know.’
‘So all the time you’ve been here, you’ve been pointing us towards the wrong man. Do you know what al-Hosni is going through at this very moment? I’d be surprised if he’s still alive, to be honest. And if we feel at any moment that you’re holding out on us, you’ll be joining him.’
‘You wouldn’t do that,’ Malika said, her demeanour suddenly stern. ‘You British pride yourselves on operating within the law, and that will be part of your downfall. As for me, life in a cell will be no great hardship. I expected as much when I made my journey here.’
‘Oh, trust me,’ Sarah said. ‘We might tell the world that we’re the leaders in upholding human rights, but no-one’s got a clue what goes on behind the scenes. Have you heard of waterboarding?’
‘I have, but you don’t have the stomach for it.’
‘On the contrary,’ Harvey said. ‘We’ve been perfecting the art for years now. Al-Hosni was snatched off the street hours ago, and the news channels are blaming a fictitious anti-Muslim group we created. In a couple of days, his body will be found, but the police will have nothing to go on. In a couple of weeks, he’ll be forgotten. You’ll be next unless you give us what we need to stop the attack.’
Harvey let the words sink in, but Malika seemed unfazed. He was about to tighten the screw when Farsi appeared at the door and gestured for them to join him outside.
‘I found the connection between Khan and al-Hosni,’ he said when the door closed. ‘The courier, Qureshi, met him three hours after leaving al-Hosni’s place. He got off the Tube three stops late and took a taxi back to Khan’s mosque. I’ve got people identifying Khan’s main associates and we’re tracking their movements over the last week.’
‘Good work,’ Harvey said, and was suggesting further measures when Solomon erupted.
‘Andrew!’
Malika finished the Coke and held the empty can under the table, out of sight of those watching her through the one-way window. She squeezed the can in the middle, then gripped the ends and slowly worked them back and forth, the friction weakening the vessel at its most vulnerable point. After a few seconds, she was rewarded with a sharp crack as the can split in two, and she felt along the broken edges for the sharpest section.
Her time had come, as she knew it eventually would. All had seemed to be going so well, and though she hadn’t been able to see it through to the end, she was proud to have led them a merry dance for so long. She wouldn’t be around to learn of the destruction she had helped to cause, but it was enough to know that she had helped Karim in his fight. What little else she knew about the plot would follow her to the grave.
Malika discarded half of the can and rolled up her left sleeve. She knew this was going to hurt, but Nabil had assured her that the pain wouldn’t last long. Once the adrenaline kicked in at the sight of the blood, her natural defences would block the pain. She placed the keen edge of the can against her radial artery, just as Nabil had shown her, and after taking a deep breath, she pressed down as hard as she could. She felt nothing more than a sharp prick as blood began to seep out of the wound, but the real pain came when she dragged the improvised blade up her arm. She managed to gouge a four-inch tear before the sensation became too much, and she switched her focus to her carotid artery. She placed the can against the side of her neck, two inches below her ear, and slashed sideways.
The sight of the blood spurting from her arm and neck made her feel faint, and she closed her eyes and thought of Nabil Karim. The image of her brother began to float in front of her, his face blurring and coming back into focus, and she believed she could hear him talking to her.
Malika! Malika!
‘Malika!’
Harvey pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it against the girl’s neck, while Sarah and Farsi tried to stem the flow from Malika’s arm. Solomon rushed into the room with a first-aid kit and told them that an ambulance was on its way.
‘Malika!’ Harvey repeated, slapping her face. Her eyes opened, and she smiled up at him. She spoke in Arabic, her voice low, but Harvey couldn’t understand her.
‘Hamad, what’s she saying?’
Farsi put a hand up for him to be silent and listened to Malika.
‘She thinks you’re her brother,’ he said. ‘She hopes you’re proud of her.’
Malika’s breath became shallower as the blood seeped through the bandages. A tourniquet had been applied to her upper arm, but there was little they could do to stem the flow from her neck. Harvey kept the pressure on, but the puddle on the floor was growing bigger by the second.
Malika managed a few more words, and Farsi looked up at Harvey. ‘She called you Nabil. She said your plan was almost perfect.’
‘Nabil? You mean she’s . . .’
‘Karim’s sister.’
&n
bsp; The door buzzed open and two paramedics ran in. They took over and asked everyone to stand back, and Harvey watched as they put a cannula in her right hand and attached an IV line.
‘There’s nothing more we can do here,’ Farsi said. ‘I suggest we concentrate on Khan.’
Harvey agreed, but first he wanted to clean up. Malika’s blood was all over his clothes, and his hands were dripping crimson.
The trio went to the washrooms while Solomon remained behind to collate the video for the inevitable inquiry.
Back in the office, Harvey, Sarah and Farsi went to the locker room to wash and change into spare clothes. They all had an overnight bag pre-packed in case they had to deploy at a moment’s notice, and they were grateful that they wouldn’t have to finish the shift in bloodstained apparel.
Once they were changed, Harvey told Sarah to call a meeting and have everyone gather in the conference room.
‘I’m going to let Veronica know what’s happened. I want all al-Hosni surveillance teams recalled and reassigned to Khan. Hamad, I need a list of his known associates. We’ll do the same as we did with everyone al-Hosni met: trace their movements over the last six days.’
Harvey knocked on Ellis’s door and walked in. ‘There was an incident downstairs,’ he said, standing in front of her desk. ‘Malika tried to take her own life. The paramedics are with her now.’
‘How the hell did that happen?’ Ellis asked.
‘She had a can of Coke, I left the room, it was over in seconds. She turned it into a blade and slashed herself pretty bad.’
‘Damn it, Andrew, she’s our best chance of finding the X3!’
‘Thankfully, that isn’t the case. It looks like she was a plant all along.’
Harvey explained how he and Sarah had come up with the theory, and Malika’s answers had just about confirmed it. ‘Everything now points to Muhammad Khan.’
Ellis sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. ‘It’s an interesting supposition, but why go to all the trouble of creating this false trail? Why not just sneak it into the country and use it? It seems they had everything in place, so why alert us that the X3 is on our soil?’
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