(Jonathan Roper Investigates Boxset

by Michael Leese

  The watching Hooley stifled a little cheer. He knew his man well enough to tell that he was back on the hunt. He patted both men on the shoulder and quietly admitted that while he was pleased that the Major had found a way to get through, he did wish he’d been able to do it himself.

  But there was no time for that and they needed to crack on. He wanted Roper in that basement straight away. It was clear from a closer examination of the “cells” in the lower basement levels that a lot of people had been kept in them. There was also some medical equipment, some of it similar to what they had seen at DF Pharmaceuticals.

  He followed Roper into the basement level where he spent almost an hour slowly working his way around the area, occasionally shouting out or tapping at the walls. Hooley was torn between wanting him to move faster and knowing he had to be left to work at his own pace. He did have to stop himself grinding his teeth in impatience.

  Finally, Roper reached the cells pausing outside before entering and carefully examining each room. At the third door he recoiled as though he had been hit by something.

  “I can clearly smell traces of sweat, blood and faeces in this one. It’s in the others too but much stronger in this one.”

  Hooley stepped up and sniffed cautiously. He caught an unpleasant undertone but was unable to say what the smell was. Meanwhile, Roper had been taking a series of breaths, and then he inhaled deeply and walked into the cell. He tapped the rear wall, cocked his head and stared at it. He was so absorbed he started breathing normally. He pressed both hands on the left-hand side of the wall, about half-way down. It slid silently back to reveal a dark passage.

  “This is how they got out. I bet you anything that this passage leads out through the house at the back of this one. Another thing I should have thought about.”

  Hooley noticed Roper’s expression. It was something he had never seen before. Roper was furious and clearly intended to do something about catching up with the bad guys.

  “I want to get back to the office and start really looking at my Rainbow Spectrum. The answer is going to be there, I’m just not looking in the right place yet.”

  Chapter 63

  Brian Hooley’s request to the David Evans team had brought swift results and been emailed over. He wasn’t surprised to read that Roper had been on the right track. They’d spoken to Sylvia Jones’ neighbour who said there had been an unusual episode with the mother. About six months earlier she had managed to get out of the house and disappear, something which had never happened before. The neighbour said Jones had been frantic with worry until she received a phone call from the security office at a shopping centre in Bromley, a town to the south of Beckenham. Security guards had found her clearly confused mother. In her hand she had a piece of paper with the name Sylvia Jones on it, and what proved to be her telephone number.

  Jones had dashed to the centre to collect her and in the relief at her safe return the neighbour said she hadn’t thought to question what had happened. It was only later that she started to think how strange it had been. She couldn’t understand how the mother had got out of the house since it had been extra secure following her dementia diagnosis. Plus, there was the question of how the mother had made it to Bromley. It was too far for a frail old lady to undertake on her own.

  When she had tried to raise it, Jones had become evasive. She tried to make out that her mother must have somehow remembered going there when she was well and had re-created the journey. It was well known, said Jones, that dementia sufferers had brilliant recall of events in the distant past. The neighbour had let it go. She assumed Jones didn’t want to talk about it because she felt guilty over what had happened.

  Roper looked up from reading the document. “It seems pretty obvious they took the old lady to warn Sylvia Jones what might happen if she didn’t do what they asked. They must have thought it was perfect. The woman they had monitoring David Evans was under their total control. They had found the only way they could effectively undermine her loyalty to him.

  “That must have been how they persuaded her to shoot him. They probably told her that next time her mother would be dumped all alone in the middle of some woods, or similar.”

  Hooley nodded but did have a concern. “Why not just bump Evans off themselves? After all we know they’re not squeamish when it comes to murder.”

  Roper was looking serious. “I think it’s because they are cruel and controlling people who enjoy being able to manipulate others into doing terrible things. Like the sort of bullies you get at school who don’t know when to stop.”

  Hooley noted the set expression on Roper’s face. His bullying observation was clearly based on personal experience. He hoped the younger man wasn’t reading too much into it but took comfort from the fact that Roper had been proven right with some even bigger intuitive jumps.

  Chapter 64

  Dan Sykes was sitting in a grubby white van watching members of his ‘old team’ execute a text-book perfect entrance into the Mount Street house. But he knew they were going to be disappointed and had stayed behind because he wanted to be close by when they realised they were too late. Parked well outside the 300-metre exclusion zone he’d found a spot where his powerful binoculars gave him a close up view of the action. The bang when they detonated the C-4 was seriously loud, generating a cloud of dust and sending the plump pigeons of Mayfair flapping madly into the air.

  Despite what he’d said to Tommy Burton about not being a match for a straight fight with current SAS operatives, his ego meant he still backed himself. He had kept in good shape and thought he was more than a match for most opponents. Watching what was going on gave him a rush and fed a sense of superiority. He calculated it was a risk well worth taking given that there was a slim chance he could be caught.

  As he watched he thought he had to hand it to Burton. The man had delivered the warning in plenty of time for them to get out of the house. He grinned as he imagined how frustrated the police and SAS troopers were going to be. His sense of triumph had led him to linger longer than he had originally planned as he couldn’t resist the sense he was defying the odds.

  One of the best moments had come when he had seen a clearly frustrated DCI Hooley emerge from the surveillance van and slam the side panel in obvious frustration. That must have been the very second, he learned they were too late. He knew they would have found Tricia Williams as he’d made the decision to leave her behind, what was left of her. Right at the end she’d surprised him by showing some of her earlier spirit. Too late of course, but she had put up a fight. He had the scars to show where she had dug her nails into him. But her resistance was soon over and he had given her a beating for her trouble. As far as he was concerned he’d left her for dead.

  He checked his watch. He’d been there for more than an hour. It really was time to go. He was just reaching for the ignition key when there was a loud tap on his side window. Standing on the pavement were two black-clad troopers. An expert on guns, he realised exactly what weapons they were carrying. One was holding an MC51 short barreled assault rifle, loaded with 7.52 mm ammo, and the other had a Remington 870 12-gauge pump-action shotgun. There were lots of arguments about the relative merits of both weapons and many claimed there were superior alternatives. Sykes wasn’t too bothered about that right now. He knew that in the hands of experts, and used at close range, he would be reduced to mincemeat. He slowly raised his hands in the air.

  His door was opened and non-too gently he was dragged from his seat and pressed down face-first on the cold pavement. To his disgust he had a close-up view of a squashed dog turd but his captors seemed unsympathetic to his plight. His hands were swiftly tied behind his back with zip ties, yanked tight enough to pose a risk of circulation problems in the not-too distant future. Then he was frog-marched back to the house.

  Sykes was dumped on the floor of what had been his office and left to struggle up to a sitting position as best he could. It was all part of a softening up process he knew had started from
the moment he was grabbed. Finally, managing to sit up on his bottom he studied the two guards in the room with him. These two both had the MC51s which they were holding in the approved position, ready to fire in an instant.

  Their faces were obscured by black balaclavas and neither said anything. He tried to get a conversation going by asking for water, but he might as well have been talking to himself for the effect it had. His guards studiously ignored him. This went on for another 10 minutes then a man walked in that he recognised, Major Tom Phillips.

  He grinned with his best cheeky-chappie expression. “Tom Phillips, as I live and breathe. What a joy to see a friendly…” His words were cut off as the Major lifted a booted foot and placed it firmly in Sykes’s chest before forcing him down on the carpet. The pressure was immense and he found himself struggling for breath. Then it was released.

  “Stop pissing about Sykes. You’ve already made one big mistake by hanging around. Did you forget the bit in the manual that says we always check outside exclusion zones? It’s amazing how often you ‘criminal geniuses’ can’t seem to stay away. I suppose you wanted to gloat over escaping, well gloat on this.” He delivered a vicious punch to Sykes’ left kidney which nearly made him throw-up.

  The Major knelt down and spoke his face just inches away from Sykes. “I hate little scumbags like you. If it was down to me I’d have put you down back at that van you were sitting in. I expect that we might have managed to scoop up enough to put what was left of you into a plastic bag and post it to your old mum - assuming she’d want you.”

  To Sykes’ complete surprise the Major then stood up and walked out of the room. He was so sure he was about to be offered a deal in return for his ‘co-operation’ that he was staring at the door with his mouth open. He stayed on his back, assuming that any attempt to move would have him forced back to the ground. But time passed and he realised that they must be playing by different rules. He managed to get back into a sitting position and tried to ignore his throbbing wrists and burning kidney.

  He put himself into a light trance. He knew that Phillips would be back at some point. Twenty minutes later the Major was back and Sykes decided it was time to open negotiations. “I expect by now that you will have discovered that the pointy-head David Francis has disappeared. So, if you want to know anything about our operation you are going to have to talk to me.”

  He could tell by the way Major Phillips had gone very tense that he was right. They didn’t have anyone else. He stopped talking for a moment as he allowed an unpleasant sneer to appear. “If you want to save some lives then you are going to have to offer me a deal.”

  Chapter 65

  “How can we possibly do a deal with someone when we’ve got him on CCTV murdering a policeman? This is madness.” In the face of Hooley’s outburst Mayweather maintained an enigmatic expression. While she had every sympathy with her deputy he needed to get over his anger as quickly as possible. The decision had come straight from the top and her attempt to argue against it had been firmly knocked back. Now they were going to have to get on with it.

  “It’s no more appealing to me than it is to you but the idea came from the new PR man. He says that if it came out that we allowed innocent members of the public to die when we could have done a deal then it will be damaging. We will be seen as more bothered about ourselves than the people we are meant to protect. The Commissioner was in complete agreement; no-one is talking about letting him go free. We just offer him the chance of a slightly easier ride through the system if he helps us.”

  While Hooley understood there was no way round this order, a part of him refused to go down without a fight. “I just don’t understand how these people can start playing politics at a time like this. It’s almost as though they don’t care about catching the bad guys so long as it plays out nicely on Twitter.”

  Mayweather thought he might have been echoing her own thoughts. She looked at Roper. If anybody might have a different take it would be him. “What do you think Jonathan?”

  Roper didn’t pause. “I can see the PR argument very clearly. Our policeman is already dead and that’s terrible for his family and friends, but there is nothing we can do to bring him back. At the same time, I believe it certain that there are other victims who are still being held hostage. It would look very bad if they died because we refused to do anything at all. So long as Sykes goes to prison then it balances out.”

  Hooley grimaced. He knew Roper was talking sense but he couldn’t help imagining how the PC’s widow would react if she was sitting in on the discussion. The problem was he couldn’t come up with a better idea. If you stripped the emotion out of it, as Roper had just done, the answer was clear. He said. “I guess you’re saying we have no choice - unless that Rainbow Spectrum of yours is about to save the day again?”

  His hopes, slight as they were, were instantly dashed. Roper made no attempt to make things sound positive. “Nothing. While I’m certain that I’m missing some important detail, I have no idea what it might be. My big hope is that once you start talking to Sykes he will provide new information that I can plug in and get some more answers.

  “But there is a big problem. Looking at everything that we have now I am sure the gang is still in the process of shutting down their operation. So, I expect that Sykes will be perfectly happy to sit tight and waste time, no matter what he is offered.

  “These people have shown they are totally ruthless so it is likely Sykes won’t be bothered if any more victims die. In fact, my guess is that he will have no concerns about going to prison. Partly because he is a very tough man and partly because he is probably banking on being rescued by his military contacts.”

  Major Phillips was standing at the back listening. Now he stepped forward.

  “I think that last point is well made. We have no idea where Tommy Burton is and he is exactly the type of man who would think nothing of launching an armed assault on a UK prison.”

  Julie Mayweather looked as concerned as Hooley could ever remember seeing her. “Clearly this is going to be very difficult but we have to make the victims our top priority. I know this is hard for all of us but Jonathan is right; we must assume that there are people alive who badly need our help.”

  Roper looked around the room. “I have identified some topics that I believe Sykes will be willing to talk about, including the murder of David Evans and the murder-suicide of Sylvia Jones and her mother. I was reading the background briefing on Sykes provided by Major Phillips. There is a detailed account by a psychiatrist who interviewed him a year before he vanished from the SAS. He had already been spotted as a potential problem and they were anxious to find out what made him tick. He said Sykes was a true narcissist, obsessed with himself and someone who really does think he is far more intelligent than anyone else. That, coupled with a strong streak of sociopathic tendencies makes him, says the psychiatrist, ‘potentially a very dangerous man’.”

  He broke off for a moment as he trawled his memory, something Hooley recognised from the way his gaze had switched to the middle-distance. For that brief period, he was unaware of how he had grabbed the undivided attention of the rest of the team.

  “My estimation, from studying the files, is that he can be prompted to tell us about the murder of David Evans and the murder-suicide of Sylvia Jones and her mother. It took us weeks to find that connection and he will be pleased with himself over that. The fact that they were able to manipulate Sylvia Jones to kill her boss will have especially delighted him. Plus, he will view it as a safe topic because he will be thinking that he won’t be giving away information about what they have done with any hostages they currently hold.”

  Hooley was the first to respond. “As usual your attention to detail is extraordinary. I didn’t even realise we had a psychiatrist report on Sykes.” He looked at the Major who shrugged an apology. “With everything else going on it slipped my mind. To be honest, I hadn’t read it and just made the mistake of assuming it was a routine psych evalu
ation. We all have to undergo them from time to time.”

  “Well, not for the first time, we are grateful to you, Jonathan,” said Hooley. “But even though I don’t disagree with your analysis, I would still like to start the interrogation by asking him the direct questions first. If there is any chance of getting a quick response then we have to explore it. I say we put the deal on the table and then see what response we get. If he does play hard to get we just go down the path that you have identified.”

  Roper was leaning against the wall, staring down at the floor. “It won’t hurt to do what you say, but don’t be disappointed when he plays up. I have been able to build up a detailed picture of our man and my reading of the situation says Sykes will play for time.” He fidgeted with his tie for a moment then carried on. “There is another aspect we all need to be aware of. That biotechnology research is clearly advanced beyond pretty much anything else out there. We already know they have some sort of cancer therapy that halts the disease. But if they are making progress on finding a way to extend life then it will be the most valuable medical breakthrough yet.

  “It would be worth enormous amounts of money. It’s not an exaggeration to say that whoever comes up with a way of allowing us to live longer will earn billions and billions, at the very least. And if you add in a cancer cure as well, then make that trillions, because we don’t have David Francis we have to assume that they do have the ability to go away and start up in a country like North Korea. That means it is in Sykes’ best interest to keep quiet since I am sure he will be on a promise of a big payout. I have been looking at it through the Rainbow Spectrum and it seems clear to me there is a very cold mind at work who we haven’t yet identified. I don’t believe it is Tommy Burton. The files say he is like Sykes, an action man. We still need to find the planner behind all of this.”