A Bombing Enigma

by Angelika Lansdale

“My machine contains a lot of personal financial data,” Elizabeth remarked.

  “We are in a rush otherwise we would have given you official paperwork with a guarantee that we are only looking for Sharon’s emails and nothing more. However, there is no time. Please trust us Mrs. Stewart,” Mr. Daniels beseeched.

  Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement. Mr. Watson immediately switched off the computer and unplugged it. They promised to return it as soon as they completed their scanning. Elizabeth looked at Cynara uncertainly and asked, “I hope I made the right decision. It was safe to give them my PC?”

  “Yes. They need it for the investigation and I am sure they will only look for the emails and nothing else,” Cynara said confidently even though she also felt as uncertain as Elizabeth did. However, it was best to put up a brave front for her employer’s sake and assuage all her doubts.

  Charles was quite taken aback to hear about the agents’ taking Elizabeth’s computer. “It is interesting to see how much they can track nowadays. They realized that Sharon accessed her email from here. I am impressed,” he said.

  “It is necessary in today’s hostile terrorist environment. I can understand why some people are against it though. It is an invasion of privacy,” Cynara said.

  “Yes, but necessary as you said,” Charles said.

  “It was fine to give them the machine?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes. There was no choice. If Elizabeth had refused, they would have come back with a warrant,” Charles said.

  “This is all so intimidating!” Cynara exclaimed.

  “Let us see what this computer search yields, hopefully something constructive,” Charles said.

  The agents returned the following afternoon. They had Elizabeth’s computer with them. After connecting it, Mr. Daniels turned towards Elizabeth and said, “We have checked your machine and were able to trace an email that Sharon had received and accessed from here.”

  “Who sent it?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It was from an anonymous source and was bounced off a lot of servers worldwide. It will take time to track,” Mr. Daniels added.

  “Was the content relevant?” Elizabeth asked.

  “We really cannot divulge any more information right now. It is a matter of national security,” Mr. Daniels replied.

  “National security?” Elizabeth asked fearfully.

  Chapter 21

  “Yes.” Mr. Watson studied her reaction solemnly. “Please refrain from asking any more questions. We will be unable to reveal anything useful at this stage.” The agents thanked Elizabeth for her cooperation and left.

  Cynara and Elizabeth looked at each other quietly for a few moments. Giving a slight shake to her head as if to clear her thoughts, Elizabeth said, “An email being bounced from different servers sounds fabricated. However, the agents’ reference to national security makes it real.”

  “It seems to indicate terrorism,” Cynara surmised. “Could Sharon have known Abaan Khalid?”

  “What are you saying?” Elizabeth asked fretfully. “That Sharon was a terrorist or in cohorts with a terrorist?”

  “I am not suggesting that she was a terrorist. But it is possible that she and Jimmy were close, that she was the girl Abaan Khalid referred to in the email I found,” Cynara said slowly. “We will have to wait and see the outcome of the investigation.”

  “I just want all this to end and we return to normal, mundane life,” Elizabeth said ardently.

  Elizabeth’s wish was answered during the ensuing days. There were no other harrowing incidences. Life crawled to some semblance of normalcy in the house. Sharon’s autopsy results reaffirmed what they already knew, death by a gunshot wound to the head. They held a small funeral for her on Wednesday, just two weeks after Ruth’s.

  The news channels seemed to lose interest by Friday. There was no mention of a terrorist link or any connection with Jimmy. The police were keeping all that speculation under wraps. The story reported by the media was the random murder of a young girl, probably an unhappy lover, or a love triangle of some sort.

  Cynara was unable to stop thinking about all the events that had occurred since her arrival in York, especially Sharon’s death. It worried her. After dinner on Friday, she admitted her uneasiness to Charles. “Sharon’s death is so puzzling. Who killed her?”

  “Abaan Khalid,” Charles said gravely.

  “You really think he is back in England?” Cynara felt her heart accelerating nervously at her brother concluding what she was also suspecting.

  “It seems highly likely based on the agents’ concern regarding national security. That usually means they are worried about terrorism,” Charles said.

  “But why would Abaan kill Sharon?” Cynara felt quite vexed. “How was she involved?”

  “It is hard to say,” Charles drummed his fingers on the table. “Let us look at the series of events.”

  “Okay. I found the pen drive. It contained an email from Abaan Khalid Fakhri to Jimmy, advising him about converting to Islam. There was a mention of a girl. Then the agents tracked down Abaan Khalid’s sister and brother-in-law, who seem to be innocent and do not know about Abaan’s current whereabouts. Next Qureshi was identified, a Muslim shop owner who remembered Jimmy and a Caucasian girl seeking advice on how to convert to Islam. Then before he could identify this girl, with the help of a police sketch artist, he was shot and killed. Ruth was arrested and her relationship with Abaan was revealed. She committed suicide, presumably in shame. Do I have the sequence correct so far?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes I think so,” Charles replied.

  “This was followed by the agents telling us that a woman fitting Ruth’s description took a taxi from here to Leeds on the night of Qureshi’s murder. This threw suspicion on Ruth, that she was an accessory to his murder. Finally, Sharon was murdered. And the same gun was used,” Cynara paused.

  “It is possible that Sharon killed Qureshi. The taxi driver picked up a woman who looked like Ruth, a broad shouldered brunette. He did not see the face at all. Well that is easily impersonated, with the help of a wig and an overcoat,” Charles said.

  “Yes but Sharon did not reside on this street,” Cynara interrupted.

  “Well neither did Ruth,” Charles pointed out.

  “That is a valid point. It is all so confusing!” Cynara exclaimed. “She might have shot Qureshi but it still does not answer my question. Why was she killed?

  “Terrorism seems to be in play. Maybe Sharon was thwarting certain plans and became collateral damage. So she was stopped,” Charles remarked musingly. “We will only have all our answers after they find Abaan.”

  “It sounds like one of those spy novels I read as a teenager,” Cynara pushed her hair back in frustration.

  “Yes,” Charles agreed. “But it is known to happen and nothing else is making sense.”

  Cynara assented slowly, “Yes I concur.” It all seemed surreal.

  “You have to accept though, we make quite the detectives,” Charles added jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I agree. We are in the wrong profession,” Cynara grinned soberly.

  Charles spent the rest of the evening working on his CV and researching possible interview questions. He had worked in the Diplomatic Corps since he graduated from University and did not have any recent interviewing experience. Once his CV was updated and he felt prepared for the interview, he was going to send in the application to the company he had visited. His aim was to have it all completed and apply by Monday.

  Cynara woke up late on Saturday. She was having lunch with Jane along with the teachers from school, the ones she had met previously. Charles needed to finish some urgent work for his manager in Perth. He was going to Leeds afterwards with Peter Jennings to visit an old school mate. Cynara felt quite excited at the prospect of her lunch. It would be wonderful to spend time away from the Stewart family and not discuss or think about the recent developments. She quickly dressed in a lime green summer dress. It highlighted he
r eyes and suited her.

  Jane arrived promptly at noon to pick her up. On the drive to the restaurant, Cynara apprised her of all the recent advancements in the case, including the diary. She did not mention anything about her cousin’s unfaithfulness. Jane was quite shocked to hear of the agents’ concern for national security.

  Lunch was a very high-spirited affair. Everyone in the group was in a jovial mood and ate leisurely, ordering coffees after their meal. They were all having such a good time that none of them showed the slightest inclination of leaving. Cynara was also happy to just stay there chatting.

  Cynara suddenly noticed a stunning blond heading purposefully towards their table. Jane saw her as well and jumped up in surprise, “Christine, how wonderful to see you. What are you doing here?”

  “I am back in York,” Christine replied.

  “That is great!” Jane exclaimed.

  “Yes hope it will all be great. How is the family?” Christine asked.

  “Well you must have heard everything that has happened. We are all trying to ride the wave,” Jane answered.

  “Yes must be so difficult. Let us catch up soon,” Christine said before she walked away.

  Jane sat down and looked apologetically at everybody around the table, “Sorry for not introducing any of you. I just got so excited seeing her.”

  “We forgive you this time, but do not repeat the mistake. It is a sin not to introduce such a beautiful woman,” Barry clutched his heart dramatically.

  “Yes she is a stunner,” Jane agreed.

  “Who is she?” Cynara asked.

  “Her name is Christine Wilkins. She is an old friend. Our families have known each other for a long time. She had relocated to London about six or so years ago to pursue a very successful career in modelling. I guess she has moved back,” Jane explained.

  On her way back from the ladies room, Cynara noticed Christine Wilkins sitting at a table with a man who looked very familiar. As she was trying to remember where she had seen him previously, he looked directly at her and caught her stare. Turning her face away in embarrassment, she quickly sat down in her chair. It was Bradley Robinson, the journalist she had met at Ruth’s funeral.

  Cynara was unable to concentrate on the conversation flowing around their table. She felt Bradley gazing at her at length. It took all her will power to avoid looking in his direction. Something about him really unnerved her. She forced herself to block out his scrutiny. The party broke up soon after. As Jane and Cynara walked towards Jane’s car, Bradley suddenly appeared in front of them. He held out his hand to Cynara and said, “Hello, Ms. Walters. I hope I have the right name?”

  A little taken aback, Cynara shook his hand quickly and nodded in acquiesce. “How are you Mr. Robinson?”

  “Oh, please call me Bradley. I am fine,” he replied. “I don’t think I have ever had the privilege of meeting your charming companion.”

  “This is Jane Clemmons,” Cynara introduced stiffly. She was quite disconcerted by his approach. Jane and Bradley cordially shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. He remembered Jane from Ruth’s funeral and explained he knew Kevin quite well. Jane had also heard of him. Bradley was originally from the area and up from London to visit his mother. Jane curiously asked him where he lived, when he had moved to London and where he was currently working. He patiently replied to all her questions amicably. Jane ruefully apologized for the inquisition and blamed it on her innate curiosity.

  “I don’t mind. It is not every day that I arouse the curiosity of such an attractive woman,” Bradley replied flatteringly.

  Jane smiled happily and said, “You certainly boost my ego. Hope to meet you again soon.”

  “It will be my good fortune.” Bradley bid them goodbye and walked to a black BMW parked a few meters away. It was a very sleek model, just like its owner. He got in and waved to them before driving off.

  “Wow, isn’t he gorgeous,” Jane exclaimed as she unlocked her car. “I never knew Kevin had such a handsome friend.”

  “Why all this interest in him?” Cynara asked.

  “When you meet such superior specimens of the opposite sex, it is compulsory to find out everything about them,” Jane quipped.

  “You are incorrigible,” Cynara laughed shaking her head. She had not been taken in by Mr. Robinson’s charms. There was something about him that made her feel guarded. He had tried too hard to be friendly with them, especially Jane. His flattery did not seem sincere. Cynara was wary of his reasons. What could he possibly gain by it? She was sure he had enough women vying for his attention. He certainly did not need to seek out new girlfriends. It really did not make any sense. She shook her thoughts free of him and chatted with Jane the rest of the way home.

  Cynara changed into comfortable sweats after reaching the cottage. She started a load of laundry and then stretched out on the sofa in front of the television. Just as she picked up the remote to turn it on, there was a knock at the front door. It startled her, as she was not expecting anyone. She quickly smoothed her hair with her hands and walked to the door wondering who it could be. Maybe Jane had forgotten something and returned. Cynara opened the door and to her utmost surprise found Bradley Robinson standing at the doorstep.

  Chapter 22

  “Mr. Robinson!” Cynara exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Please call me Bradley,” he insisted.

  “Bradley?” Cynara looked at him questioningly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  “Now?” Cynara said hesitatingly, feeling unsure. What was he doing here? What did he want? Her curiosity was aroused but she felt very uncomfortable in inviting him inside.

  “This will not take too much time,” Bradley said.

  Cynara warily nodded her head and opened the door, allowing him to enter. She stood there consciously as he paused to look around her sitting room.

  “Nice,” he said quietly.

  Cynara quickly asked him to take a seat and sat down on a chair across from the sofa. “Is there something you need?” she asked.

  “You know I am an investigative journalist. I am here to do a story on Jimmy and all the new developments,” Bradley paused.

  “Okay?” Cynara asked puzzled.

  “You are aware of everything that has occurred recently and I am hoping you will assist me with my story,” he said.

  “Me!” Cynara exclaimed. “But why me? I mean why do you need this information from me? You are from York and know so many people. I heard you are close to Kevin. Then why do you need my help?”

  “Yes I am from York and I do know Kevin. However, with his sister’s death, he has too many biases. So do a lot of the others. You are new here and will give me the facts, without any preconceived notions. And that is what I need,” Bradley explained.

  “But why should I help you? Why should I tell you anything?” Cynara quizzed.

  “Because I am sure you also want to unravel this mystery and I might be able to help with that,” Bradley said convincingly. “I have a few sources and we can both share what we know so far.”

  “You are a reporter. How do I know that you are not going to write some sensational article for your paper rather than actual facts?” Cynara asked suspiciously.

  “Ms. Walters, I am not here to fabricate a story. I am here to seek the truth and report it. I cannot force you to assist me but am hopeful you will see the sincerity in my request,” Bradley said earnestly. “I wrote an article after Jimmy’s suicide, and it was authentic news. Would you like me to show it to you?”

  Cynara looked at him thoughtfully and then slowly shook her head, “I read it already. Your cousin Peter gave it to me. Okay, what would you like to know?”

  “Everything. Please start at the beginning and just narrate all that has occurred since you discovered Jimmy’s letter. That is how it all began?” Bradley asked.

  “No, it actually started with the taxi driver,” Cynara said.

  “The taxi dr
iver?” Bradley quizzed.

  “Yes, on my second day here. I had gone to York’s city center and took a taxi back. The driver was familiar with this estate and told me about Jimmy and that I was staying in his cottage,” Cynara said.

  “Do you mind if I record what you say Ms. Walters?” Bradley asked.

  Cynara shook her head, “No. And please call me Cynara.”

  “Okay Cynara. Just a minute,” Bradley said. He quickly took out a small tape recorder from his pocket and set it on the table. He clicked the record button and asked Cynara to start. She then disclosed everything she knew up to the agents visit on Tuesday afternoon. Bradley listened attentively and interjected a few times, asking for more details. He sat quietly for a few moments after she completed her narrative. “Very intriguing series of events.”