by John Mannion
The PM responded, ‘Thank you, Home Secretary, for your update. I think your final comments are particularly worthy of note at this time.’
There was a brief pause at this point. A second, while those present reflected.
The Prime Minister then addressed the Chancellor of the Exchequer, ‘What economic implications are there here?’
The Chancellor paused a moment. ‘Coming so soon after the December attacks, it is a further dent in our international standing as a good place to invest. Of the Western nations, we are under the severest and most sustained attack. This assault will further weaken the tourist industry and the not inconsiderable income from foreign students who come here. Oxford itself has a significant income from its universities and its many language schools.’
The PM looked at the Director of the Security Service. ‘Director, could we have some input from you?’
The Director cleared his throat. ‘Prime Minister. The scale of the problem is the crux of the matter. We have over two thousand people on our watch list at the moment. A twenty-four hour surveillance operation on just one of these individuals involves at least twelve of my officers. No increase in chatter was noted by GCHQ. Although this operation was large in scale and would have involved a certain amount of planning, the logistics and individual training of the individuals concerned would not have stretched capabilities. Weapons of the caliber used in this particular operation are comparatively easy to obtain. As for the number of individuals involved. There are plenty more where they came from.’
CHAPTER 40
Over the coming days Ed and his team visited the centre of Oxford a number of times. The scene laid out before their eyes changed as the days went by, from one of organised chaos in the aftermath of a tragedy, to one of detailed forensic examination. The surviving terrorist was identified as a young man from the north of England. He came from a comfortable middle class home and had attended university in London. His family were distraught and confused by his involvement in such a horrific enterprise. The young man’s name was Imran Davi.
After several days in Intensive Care, Imran was moved to another ward to recover from his injuries. Doctors told police and relatives that it was a miracle he had survived. After he had fully recovered, he was taken under armed police escort to what was described in the news reports as a ‘secure Central London location’.
Paddington Green Police Station is where terrorists go for questioning once in police custody. On arrival, the terrorist was introduced to his temporary accommodation. He entered the corridor into the secure custody suite through a two-inch thick steel door. The walls were painted a bright yellow. His individual cell, one of eight, had a TV screen and a private WC and wash basin. A thick light blue, easy to clean mattress lay on a low bed in one corner. On it was placed a duvet. He was provided with a copy of the Koran and given a prayer mat. Imran was informed that he would be provided with films or documentaries to watch on his TV, or he could listen to music or read. The films and documentaries available were carefully selected. They did not contain any political content. There was no live TV. After introducing him to his cell, his police escort took him to a small room down the corridor where he had his photograph and fingerprints taken and a sample of saliva for DNA purposes. Imran was then escorted back to his cell. He looked around him. He wondered at the turn of events that had led him to this place. He knew he would probably spend the rest of his life in surroundings like these. He lay back on his bed and stared up at the natural light filtering into the room through a Perspex skylight.
Early the following morning, Imran was given a light breakfast and then taken out of his cell and into an enclosed exercise area. He sat on a bench in the corner and stared up at the sky. Remaining motionless, he continued to stare up at the heavens until he was once again taken into the bright yellow corridor. He became aware of the CCTV cameras watching his every move. He was escorted away from his cell and into a small room with a table and chairs. A police officer stood, arms folded, at the door.
After a few minutes a middle-aged man and a young woman entered the room and, without comment, sat opposite him. Ed looked across the small table and pressed the button on the recording device on the wall.
‘The time is 9am. Persons present at this interview are Detective Sergeant Ed Malone and Detective Constable Lisa Clark of the Metropolitan Police and…’ Ed looked at Imran. ‘Please state your name for the tape.’
Imran did not respond. Ed continued, ‘The other person present is Mr Imran Davi. Good morning, Imran. This interview will be recorded. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. I want you to understand the reason there is no legal representation present at this time. The Police and Criminal Evidence Act states, amongst other reasons, that a suspect can be denied access to a lawyer if that access could lead to interference with the investigation, or lead to the alerting of other persons suspected of having committed an offence but not yet arrested. Do you understand?’
Imran stared down at the table.
Ed continued, ‘When we feel that there is no further reason for denying you access to a lawyer, we will ensure one is made available to you. Do you understand?’
Again there was no response.
‘OK, Imran. The fact that you were involved in a violent terrorist action is beyond question. So your silence is pointless. We want to understand the motivation for your actions. When and how you came to believe in your extreme interpretation of your holy book, the Koran. Help us to understand, Imran. What have you got to lose?’
Imran looked up. ‘I decided to take up arms whilst studying at university. It was there that my eyes were opened to the Zionist Western plot against my faith and my people.’
‘Was there any person in particular who opened your eyes, Imran?’
‘Allah opened my eyes,’ was Imran’s response.
Ed continued. ‘We know who your accomplices were. We would like to know where you trained for your mission. Where you and your group met. Where you got the weapons you used for your mission. We can find no record of you ever leaving the UK’
Imran stared deeply into Ed’s eyes and replied in a calm voice, ‘I will say only this. Western civilisation is in its final days. Your society is Godless and corrupt. You have lost your way; Islam will prevail. Do you understand?’
Ed understood.
‘False face must hide what the false heart doth know.’
William Shakespeare
CHAPTER 41
A sombre faced, middle-aged male newsreader read out the news item:
‘The body of a man was found in his apartment in London’s Canary Wharf this morning. Unofficial sources say the man is an employee of the Security Service, MI5. The middle-aged man, who police have not yet named, was, according to reports, found hanging naked in the apartment, and there were a number of magazines containing graphic material of a sexual nature found on the premises. It is not yet clear if the man committed suicide or if his death was the result of sex play that went wrong. Police refused to comment on whether they were looking for anyone else in relation to the death.’
Ed had been set for another day of following up leads in the continuing investigation into the recent terrorist activity which had shaken the nation. It was now six weeks since the outrage in Oxford. Arrests had been made and premises searched in the Police and Security Services’ continuing efforts to round up anyone connected with these terrorist incidents. Most of those arrested had been released after questioning. However, a number of individuals had been charged with offences related to terrorist activity. None of those arrested in the UK had been found to have been involved in, or connected to, any of the recent attacks or with any of those involved in those attacks.
The international search was still underway. Two individuals had been arrested in Egypt and extradition proceedings were underway. These two men had been rigoro
usly questioned by the Egyptian authorities, but had either resisted their interrogators’ techniques or were unable to throw much light on the broader picture of the recent terrorist activity in the UK – perhaps a compliment to the terrorists’ effective use of the cell structure. However, it had been established that they were members of the planning cell which had collected the arms and ammunition used in the assault on the Oldbury nuclear power facility. A number of leads were being followed as a result of the arrests. Security Service officers had been involved in furnishing relevant questions to the Egyptians. Police Counter Terrorism officers had thus far been denied access to the two men.
At 1015am DI Ward approached Ed and, in a low voice, requested:
‘Would you come to my office?’ Ed was just about to say something when Ward raised his hand, indicating to stop. Ward continued, ‘I’ll answer any questions in my office.’
Ed got up to follow his DI, addressing the quizzical looks from his team members by raising his eyes to the ceiling.
When the two men had entered DI Ward’s compact office, Ward closed the door and indicated to Ed to take a seat. Only when they were both seated did he speak.
‘This morning two MI5 officers went to Fayez Dhavi’s apartment at Canary Wharf. He hadn’t turned up for an important meeting and wasn’t answering his phone. The two officers knocked on the door. There was no reply. They called it in and were instructed to enter the premises, which they duly did. On entering, they found Fayez hanging naked in the bathroom. The Director of Five contacted the Commissioner and the Commissioner informed DAC Braithwaite that Counter Terrorism should take the lead in the investigation. DAC Braithwaite has, in turn, issued orders that our team should undertake the investigation into Fayez’s death in case it is connected to his work.’
DI Ward did the driving to Canary Wharf. There was little conversation between the two men. This in itself was not unusual. Ed and Russ Ward always found conversation difficult. They came from completely different backgrounds. Ward, a university graduate and a bit of a high flyer; at least that’s how he saw himself. Ed had never had the benefit of a higher education. He’d never had any career ambitions, preferring to keep his feet firmly established on the ground where he felt the real police work was done. On this occasion, however, there was more to the silence. Russ Ward had been deeply affected by the news of Fayez’s death. At this moment in time even he could not explain why.
On arrival at the apartment block, Ward parked his car alongside the police vehicles already there and the two men entered the building. There were a number of uniform police officers standing around inside the entrance. A middle-aged concierge stood behind a desk, his face blank, watching the activity; the comings and goings. Ed and Russ entered the lift and Russ pressed the button for the sixth floor. Ed broke the silence. ‘Not the penthouse then?’ he said in a sarcastic tone.
Russ Ward looked at Ed but made no reply to the comment made by his subordinate. The two men got out of the lift and walked in silence – Ed all the while admiring the opulence surrounding him – down the carpeted corridor towards the door to Fayez’s apartment, where a young police constable in uniform stood. The constable checked the two detectives’ credentials then stood to the side, allowing them access to the apartment.
On entering the apartment, Ed and his DI observed the usual activity and personnel they would have expected to encounter at a crime scene. However, on this occasion they also came upon a couple of well dressed, middle-aged, men in smart suits. The two detectives immediately recognised the presence of Security Service officers. The two ‘men in suits’ approached the detectives and introduced themselves. As anticipated, they were from MI5. The taller of the two officers from Five spoke,
‘This is a sorry business. Straight forward from your point of view though, I should think. Obviously a funny game gone wrong, eh? Not the sort of image we at Five wish to portray, but then again it takes all sorts.’
Russ Ward responded, ‘Sorry business indeed.’
Ed commented, ‘Things are not always what they seem.’
The shorter MI5 officer spoke for the first time.
‘Of course, officers, it is your job to investigate this sad occurrence, but I have to agree with my colleague. The cause of death does seem cut and dried here.’
Fayez’s body was laid out inside an open body bag in the middle of the living room floor. Ed asked,
‘I understand two of your people found the body hanging in the bathroom?’
The tall suited man answered,
‘Yes, that’s correct. They instinctively cut him down in case he was still alive. Sorry if we messed up your crime scene.’
‘Can I have a word with your two men? I have a few questions to ask them, if you don’t mind,’ Ed requested firmly.
The shorter man responded,
‘Of course, officers. Go easy on them though. Unlike you people, they don’t encounter this sort of thing every day. They are downstairs. My colleague and I must be going now, we’ll send them up on our way out.’ The man handed Russ Ward a business card and said, ‘Call me on that number if you need to speak further.’ With that parting comment, the two men from Five left the crime scene.
DI Ward looked at Fayez’s body. The life force gone. A moment of deep and personal reflection. He had not gotten on well with Fayez. The problems in their relationship were both professional and personal. But at this moment a sensation of melancholy swept over Ward. An increased awareness of his own mortality. He turned to Ed Malone, who was standing quietly at his side, and, in a subdued tone, said to his subordinate,
‘As you know, I didn’t like the man but I am surprised at the manner of his death. I wouldn’t have thought Fayez was into this sort of thing. I guess you never can tell what goes on in people’s private lives or in the deepest recesses of their minds.’
A bemused Ed responded, ‘You certainly can’t.’
Ed hadn’t liked Fayez either, although his dealings with him had been less frequent than Russ Ward’s. Ed wasn’t inclined to change his opinion on a person just because they had died. He had found difficulty figuring out what lay behind the men’s mutual dislike of one another, especially as he didn’t like either one, and had concluded they both had similar characters which had caused a personality clash. They were both out for themselves and ‘sod anyone else!’.
Ed commented, ‘Can you believe this place? How could he afford it?’ Ed noted the Bang and Olufsen sound system and then strolled across to the large windows and stared out at the panoramic view.
DI Ward replied, ‘I didn’t talk much with Fayez about personal things, but I understand that his father was a wealthy Asian businessman.’
White-suited forensics officers were quietly and methodically going about their business as the two counter terrorism detectives looked on. The forensics officers were collecting material evidence. Every fibre, every hair and every drop of bodily fluid they found at the scene was bagged up and tagged for further analysis in the lab. The premises were gone over with a fine toothcomb for fingerprints. Police photographers took photographs of the scene. The building was comprehensively covered by CCTV and footage from this would be collected and scrutinised. Any individual identified in the footage would be interviewed as a possible witness or suspect during the investigation.
DI Ward asked the white-suited medical examiner,
‘Are there any indications on the body of a struggle? Can you tell at this stage if anyone else was involved?’
The Medical Examiner looked at Ward and responded,
‘I don’t see any sign of a struggle on the body of the deceased, either bruising or cuts. Still, as you know, bruising could show up later if any injury occurred just before death.’ The Medical Examiner continued modestly, ‘I know it’s not my area of expertise, but I note that there doesn’t appear to be any sign of a struggle in the apartment either.’
Ed interjected,
‘No, there doesn’t appear to have been a struggle,
but then a forensically-savvy killer may have done a good job covering up. Do you have any idea of the time of death, Doctor?’
The Medical Examiner responded,
‘At this stage I would say death occurred within the last twenty-four to thirty-six hours. He’s still in full rigor.’
Two young men in plainclothes approached the detectives and introduced themselves as the officers from Five who had discovered the body of their colleague. The two MI5 officers appeared to Ed as nervous and inexperienced, and perhaps more than a little shocked at their earlier encounter with the body of the deceased. They explained that they had been instructed by their bosses to enter the premises, and how on entering the apartment they had come across Fayez’s naked body hanging from a fitting in the bathroom ceiling. They had instinctively cut him down in a futile attempt to save his life. They apologised to the detectives if they had damaged the crime scene. Ed noted the rehearsed manner of their statements.
After the two witnesses from Five had departed, Russ Ward announced,