“The scientists involved all decided I was bonkers because I kept badgering them for this certificate but eventually they gave in. Even then she was still suspicious. I had to post the certificate through the letter box and then wait at the end of the drive.
“When she decided I was OK to come back in she made me go into the garage first and take all my clothes off. Then she made me wait until it was dark before burning everything in the back garden. Even one of my favourite jackets. I was heartbroken about it. I’d had it since I got made detective - it had real sentimental value for me.”
Mayweather was laughing so hard she had to dab at her eyes.
“You managed to keep that one secret, Brian. If the team had found out you would never have heard the end of it.”
“Trust me, I put a lot of effort into making sure that was kept very quiet. I told the scientists that everything we did was covered by the Official Secrets Act; at least that stopped them blathering.”
Roper was looking puzzled. “I don’t know why you think this is a laughing matter. I think Mrs. Hooley was being very sensible.”
The look the DCI gave him reminded Roper that he really wasn’t very good at reading body language.
Chapter 26
Mayweather glanced at her watch. Her father had given it to her to mark her becoming a Met police officer. It was a cherished memento and had been there through the key moments of her career. Looking at it now was an uncomfortable reminder that a countdown clock was ticking.
“I need to go and see the Commissioner. He’s one of the people who definitely needs to know the direction we are going, and you can be certain that he, in turn, will take it straight to the top. That means Downing Street will be involved.”
Hooley may have briefly lightened the atmosphere, but now that was replaced with a brisk determination to take care of business.
“While I’m with him, is there anything you want to flag up? Do you need more people? This is going to be one of those times when there’s not going to be a problem getting you the resources you need.”
Hooley rolled his shoulders to try and alleviate the ache in his back. This case was a pain in the neck - literally.
“There was one thing you might be able to chase up for us. Bill Nuffield made it plain that we are not seeing everything that MI5 has. I think events have moved on and they should review that decision.
“He told us he was working hard to get what he could and I think he’s on our side, so maybe a push from the Commissioner will help. I get the feeling the spooks can get a tad obsessed about clearance levels. Jonathan and I do need to know.
“If he’s right in his assessment – and, how many times has he proven himself? - then the fewer the obstacles we face from our own side the better. I’m not saying this is the case, but if there is a bit of top-dogging going on then it needs to be nipped in the bud.”
“I think that last point is well made, Brian. I don’t want us to get into a situation where we turn around in a few weeks and wish we had done more to ensure things ran smoothly.”
She glanced over at Roper. “I also agree with Brian about your ability to predict what might happen. Are you using your Rainbow Spectrum on this? The Commissioner is bound to ask.”
“It’s very strange but I keep hearing that all sorts of people are aware of the Rainbow Spectrum. Why is everyone so interested in it?”
“Because you have invented a unique approach to problem-solving. It’s left a lot of serious people seriously impressed. To go back to my earlier question: what would you like me to tell the Commissioner? Are you using it?”
“The honest answer is yes and no. ‘Yes,’ because I am starting to store a lot of information in that part of my mind but also ‘no’, because nothing is quite making sense yet. But you can say it is starting to come together.”
“I might find a way to put a more positive spin on that, Jonathan, but thank you for your honesty.” She stood up and as she reached for her jacket, Hooley cut in with a laugh. “You could tell him about my ‘lager protocol’ if you like.”
“Ah, I think I know this one, Brian. It’s the idea that there’s nothing that can’t be put into the right perspective with the help of a nice cold pint of lager. While there may be some truth in that I think I may stick to the Rainbow Spectrum for now.”
She made to leave; then a thought struck her.
“Regarding that polonium case. You and I were introduced to a quite brilliant scientist who was brought in to beef up security. His name was Paul, something. Was it Paul Ross?”
“Paul Moss, that was his name,” said Hooley who had surprised himself with his recall. “Must be going on ten years since we spoke to him.”
“It probably is, but I bet he’s going to be a very good person for Jonathan to start with as he looks to see how something might be brought into the country. Who knows, maybe they have sniffer dogs for that now.”
“Dogs would be no use because radiation doesn’t have a smell - at least, nothing anyone has found up to now - but I do know there has been a lot of top secret developments in recent years. If your guy knows about them then he could be really helpful.”
“I’ll track him down,” said Hooley. “He should remember me so that will help speed things up although, from what Jonathan just said, it sounds like another reason to get our security clearances beefed up.”
The two detectives left Mayweather and headed back to their office. Roper was just about to get back into his own research when Hooley called out.
“Rather than just work on until I can’t read anymore - and I know you have never reached that point - let’s set a deadline of 7.30pm to call it a day then we can head off to my local Indian for dinner.”
Roper’s response was animated. “That would be great. We haven’t done that for ages and I have been building up to trying a new dish.”
Hooley couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I was under the impression that you eating anything other than lamb rogan josh would bring you out in spots.”
“This time I’m going to have a chicken vindaloo.”
“Are you sure? That’s one of the hottest things they make; I’ve never dared try it, but I did see some bloke going very red in the face last Saturday night. He was eating it for a bet and I got the impression the kitchen made sure he remembered the experience. He was a bit loud when he came in but soon quietened down after that.”
“I want to try out a theory I’ve been working on. I’ve been practicing eating chillis at home and I have managed to raise my resistance to them. I can manage to eat a Scotch Bonnet now which is at least 100,000 Scoville Units.”
“Well, I don’t know about your Scovilles, but I do know that a Scotch Bonnet is lethal. If you can manage one of those, then I guess you will be fine. But may I ask what’s bringing about this desire to try something different?”
“I’ve been reading about chilli pepper and found out it has a lot of good properties. The ingredient that causes the sensation of heat is capsaicin - that can help with reducing blood sugar, boost circulation, which may help with dementia, and provide help against strokes.
“When you eat it, it also makes the body produce endorphins which helps you feel calmer and more in control. I don’t like to use the expression ‘superfood’ but chilli is very good for you and, even better, you can train yourself to eat the hottest available.”
“I’ll take your word for all that but I’m afraid you’re on our own when it comes to that. I once tried something called the Nagga chilli while I was on holiday on the Isle of Wight. We visited this place where they were offering samples.
“At first I didn’t feel anything; then it was like all the air was sucked out of my lungs and the burning pain began. I couldn’t speak and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. My wife was furious because people were giving me funny looks. I wondered what was going to kill me first: her or the chilli.”
Chapter 27
The Chief Constable, Sir Thomas Warner,
asked Mayweather to meet him at Whitehall. He was needed at a COBRA meeting, the Whitehall venue used by senior government officials to discuss national issues of safety and security.
That Sir Thomas was there today was a coincidence, as his PA explained, but Mayweather couldn’t help thinking it was a worrying omen.
The young man passing on the message was blissfully unaware of her worries as he chatted away. “He’s getting there early so he can talk to you. He says that COBRA is one of the few places where he can be sure he won’t be disturbed. Between ourselves I think he rather enjoys the opportunity to disappear from view, even if it’s just for a little while.”
He was one of the new breed of officer recruits, with a first-class degree from an Oxbridge college and on the promotion fast track. After twelve months as a patrol officer in East London he had been seconded to the commissioner’s team.
Mayweather arrived thirty minutes early and decided to take a few minutes in St James’s Park. It was a warm spring day and she suddenly needed the reassurance of being near people who were untroubled by the potential nightmare she was thinking about.
Feeling refreshed, she arrived to discover Sir Thomas had cleared a forty-minute window for their session. Mayweather was quickly shown inside to find he was already there, pouring himself a coffee as she walked through the door.
She declined his offer of a drink. They weren’t close, but they enjoyed an excellent working relationship and she admired the intelligence he brought to his work.
“Sorry about the last-minute change of location, but I really needed to talk to you away from Scotland Yard and this served the purpose. We’ve got it to ourselves for a little while, so I won’t waste time because this is important.
“If you don’t mind, let me go first. As you may know, the Mayor of London and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a number of issues. In fact, our relationship has been deteriorating. He thinks we aren’t doing enough to catch criminals. I keep pointing out that I don’t have enough policemen to do everything that he wants. But then we had that problem with the Mayor’s relative.”
A few months back one of his cousins had her home broken into in a wealthy part of west London. The neighbourhood police had told her it was too minor to attend and issued her with a crime number.
“This is the woman with a blog post and a column in the Evening Standard who said that ordinary Londoners, like herself, were being ignored by the police. The trouble is that her ‘ordinary’ is a home valued at twelve million pounds.”
“Exactly, and the fallout is still going on with some unpleasant comments on social media. A couple of nights back it took a nasty turn. A mob turned up and threw stones through her window, injuring one of her friends. She’s gone into hiding and the Mayor has gone mad.
“He has demanded my resignation. Long story short, he has the power to do what he wants, so rather than fight, I’m negotiating. We have agreed a framework where I leave in eighteen months having hand-picked a successor - and I would like that person to be you.”
Mayweather was stunned but she knew this was no time for false modesty and was determined to be as honest as the Commissioner had just been.
“I won’t pretend that it hadn’t crossed my mind, especially since I was promoted to Deputy Commissioner - after that the only steps are either up or out. But I certainly wasn’t expecting to be having that conversation today.”
“Neither was I until this morning, but I had a breakfast meeting with the Mayor and laid out my plans. I told him he could accept, or I would fight his attempt to remove me and, while I couldn’t win, the resulting fallout would do him no favours at all. He may have a colourful reputation but he is a practical man, so we thrashed out a lot of the details on the spot.”
Glancing at her watch she saw they had used up half their meeting time.
“I’m assuming I can think this over?”
“Of course. But you need to decide by the end of the week. Not a lot of time, I know, but there we go. Now, I suspect what you are about to tell me is going to change the mood.”
He was right, and it was a very sombre Sir Thomas who spoke when she had finished.
“Definitely not a great time for you to be thinking about taking over the top job, but if you do accept I won’t be going anywhere for a little while so we can keep you focused on this.”
He paused while he collected himself.
“There is no doubt you are right to trust Mr. Roper’s instincts on this. His track record is too good to ignore. I’ve only met him the once but I have to say he is a fascinating man: fiercely intelligent and passionate about police work. He and Hooley make quite the pair.
“I will also make sure MI5 is brought to heel over withholding key information. Whatever resources you need, just ask. I’ll let my PA know you now have top priority on all requests. One last thing: have you thought about just having this Yebedev arrested?”
“We did, sir, long and hard. But, as Jonathan said, we don’t have anything on him apart from a photograph. If we arrested him on that his lawyer would have him free within the hour, and probably launch a claim for wrongful arrest.
“We believe the best thing to do is to keep him under observation. It’s not going to be easy because he is either at home, on his yacht or spending time in some of the most expensive hotels and clubs in London. But it feels like our only choice.”
Chapter 28
Paul Moss was a great bear of a man, with unkempt hair and a luxurious black moustache that made him look like a South American bandit. All that was missing was a gun and a string vest straining over his generous stomach.
That stomach was now helping to compress most of the air out of the DCI as he was wrapped in an enormous hug. Roper found the display so alarming that he had backed into a corner of the large room which, in a few hours, would be filled with people come to hear Moss talk. He couldn’t keep the horror off his face as he watched Hooley struggling to free himself from the embrace.
Somewhat reluctantly, Moss briefly let go before grabbing the detective’s shoulders in two meaty hands. Hooley staggered slightly under the downward pressure, only retaining his balance because he was being supported while Moss closely studied his face. He was so close the DCI could smell the coffee the man had drunk recently.
“It’s been too long, Brian. Until I saw you just now I hadn’t realised quite how much I missed you. You’re one of the few senior policemen I’ve come across with a decent sense of humour. The young ones now are so serious, but then I suppose we live in a serious world, more’s the pity.”
He glanced over at the cowering Roper and grinned in a sly way.
“I see it’s true what they say about him. Can’t stand being touched and needs to be given plenty of space. But then anyone who can come up with something like the Rainbow Spectrum is unlikely to be one of the normal bores.”
He pointed his right hand at Roper and curled his fingers in a come-hither gesture.
“Don’t worry, I only squeeze people who really want me to do it. Your DCI denies it, but I know how much he likes it really, especially now he has been forced from the loving embrace of his wife.”
The DCI started spluttering. He’d totally forgotten what a genius Moss was for collecting gossip so his remark about his marital status had taken him by surprise. Behind him an equally amazed Roper was wondering how this scruffy-looking giant could know about the Rainbow Spectrum. He ventured a little closer but was still some twenty feet away and was trying to maintain that distance.
“You’ll need to come closer than that. We can’t be shouting at each other while discussing top secret matters. Who knows who might be listening outside the doors?”
They were in a basement conference room of a central London hotel. In a few hours it would be full of people here to listen to Moss talk about the latest terrorist threats. What neither detective realised was that this conference was connected to the COBRA meeting that the Commissioner attended after his meeting with Mayweather.
Moss was now giving Roper a very direct look.
“I’ve had someone from the Commissioner’s office telling me I have to give you two everything you need about a matter that couldn’t be explained over the phone but would be when we met.
“So here we all are, at our meeting; the very least you could do is come over here and meet me properly rather than trying to vanish into a dark corner. By the way, your black suit helps you blend into the shadows but that bright white shirt of yours really works against it.”
The words were washing over Roper like a wave and, in other circumstances he would have left as quickly as possible - but there was something about Moss that not only kept him there but actually drew him in; he even found his feet slowly walking him forwards.
Finally, he was just four feet away and Moss was holding up a hand again, this to suggest he stop where he was.
“Any closer and people would say we were friends,” said the giant, giving him a theatrical wink.
Roper was so nonplussed by the performance that he blurted out: “What would be the best ways of bringing weapons-grade plutonium into the UK?”
“I take it you mean some outside group would be doing this and would be doing their best to avoid detection?”
A quick nod from Roper. He had become instantly focused and didn’t want to waste time.
“And I’m thinking that since you’re with the great Brian Hooley, you want to know how things have changed since the Litvinenko poisoning case?”
This time it was Roper who provided the affirmative with the briefest flicker.
“Well, you wouldn’t try sneaking it through Heathrow again - things have got a lot more sophisticated since then - but there are still enough ways of doing it to make the hair fall out of those tasked with stopping it.
(Jonathan Roper Investigates Boxset Page 53