(Jonathan Roper Investigates Boxset

by Michael Leese

  “But the worst thing is that my memory is not as good as it was. Normally I only have to read something once to memorise it, but I can’t concentrate… and the other thing is, I can’t find my Rainbow Spectrum.”

  Chapter 49

  Hooley had been so shocked by Roper saying he couldn’t access the Rainbow Spectrum he hadn’t known what to do or how to respond. He needed to get Julie Mayweather involved.

  Making Roper promise to stay where he was, he had walked a short distance away and called her on her direct line. She answered quickly and listened calmly as he talked, relaying to her what Roper had been saying.

  “Right, I’m dropping everything and coming to you. Do you think you can get him to his flat? I think the security of being at home might help.”

  The suggestion triggered a thought. He said: “I’m sure I can manage that and, when I get him home, perhaps I can suggest he does some of his flapping.”

  He was referring to the unique method Roper used to send himself into a light trance. He did it by listening to the sound produced when he gently wafted sheets of A4 printer paper held in either hand - and it had to be A4-sized. The exercise always helped him slow his racing thoughts and allowed him to take time out when he felt pressure mounting.

  In the smallest bedroom instead of a bed it had a black leather reclining chair with a matching footstool. It was handmade, and had cost him more than four thousand pounds, but he had willingly paid the money as he loved the shape, finding it perfect for his relaxation exercise. It was one of the few objects he had ever expressed much interest in. Everything else he bought was for its functionality.

  Mayweather said that she should be there within the hour, adding: “We need him on this case. It sounds to me as though he is having a crisis. We have to hope we can get him back on track.

  “We are up against the clock. In fact, if Jonathan is right about the bomb being here already, I fear we may be entering the final countdown. We may need our shrink so I’ll call and put her on standby.”

  “I presume you’re talking about Dr. Beth?” said the DCI. Eighteen months ago, an American psychologist, Dr. Beth Shapiro, had been signed up by Mayweather to come and take a look at their team.

  Mayweather ended the call. One of the things Hooley appreciated about his boss was that she listened to what was going on and was quick to react if she needed to. You knew that, whatever happened, she always had your back.

  He sat next to Roper; “Right then, you are getting the Royal visit. Julie wants to come and see you, and says it would be best if we met at your place. She won’t be there for another hour, so I suggest we crack on - and maybe you practice a bit of your flapping.”

  The younger man visibly brightened.

  “That’s a great idea. You’re happy to wait until I finish?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. I presume you have beer in the fridge, so a nice cold lager and watching that view will do me just as much good as an hour’s flapping session will have for you.”

  He saw Roper was about to respond and held up his hand to delay him. “I know you’re going to say your way is healthier, and you would be right. But my way tastes better.”

  Roper was so enthusiastic that he didn’t even argue when the DCI suggested a cab and, twenty minutes later, he had already placed himself in a light trance. Hooley was determinedly taking small sips of beer: one was the limit. They weren’t out of the woods yet and clear heads would be needed.

  Roper’s place was immaculate, displaying little evidence that anyone actually lived there. It could have been dressed as a show home to encourage prospective buyers: even the television was a basic model, not the big beast you might have expected to find in such an expensive penthouse.

  He sat on the settee. It looked like one you would buy from a Scandinavian furniture catalogue. It was comfortable and he gazed out of the window at the panoramic view. What the flat did have was great soundproofing, and it was only the buzzing of his phone that woke him up forty minutes later.

  It was Mayweather, to say she was minutes away. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then got to his feet. He needed to stretch his back - the settee didn’t make a great bed. There was still no sign of Roper, so he rang down to the duty guard to let him know he should allow access to Julie Mayweather.

  He had just ended the call when Roper almost gave him a heart attack by silently walking up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder.

  “Bloody hell, Jonathan, you’re as light on your feet as Mayweather. I thought she was the only one who could creep up on me like that.”

  Roper looked puzzled. “I didn’t creep, I was walking, and I just wanted to let you know I had finished and was ready for the next phase.”

  Before the DCI could respond there was a knock at the front door. Their boss had arrived, and Roper let her in. Many years ago, his grandmother, who brought him up after the death of his parents, had drummed into him the need to show visitors hospitality. The Deputy Commissioner had to refuse a long list of drinks and snacks while still standing in the doorway.

  She said, “Honestly, Jonathan, I don’t want anything to eat or drink, but if I could come in and sit down, we have work to do.”

  She knew her man well and had pitched the request just right, as he stopped doing an imitation of a waiter and showed her inside. Even though she had been here before, she was still impressed by how much space he had in such a prime location.

  “I bet you can rattle around in here on your own. Anyway, why don’t we all sit down and get started? You choose where you are most comfortable, and Brian and I will fit in around you.”

  Roper took the single armchair and waited as the pair sat on the settee that was at right angles, with Mayweather sitting closest to him. She said, “Brian has told me what you’ve been saying, but can you run through it again?”

  Some people claim that the way to tell someone is lying is to get them to tell you a story over and over again, saying that if it is repeated exactly then it must be made-up because they are sticking to a script.

  They hadn’t met Roper. His memory meant he knew exactly what he had said and so he repeated it exactly. Hooley, who didn’t have a script to check against delivery, was pretty confident there had been no deviations.

  He finished speaking, so Mayweather jumped in.

  “Brian and I will try and deal with each issue there, and I think we do have answers for you, but at any time you don’t agree with something, just let us know. Before we start I’d just like to say that you look very well. Everything about you is neat and tidy and your body language is nice and loose.”

  This was the last thing the DCI had been expecting her to open with but then he recalled that she had called Dr. Beth. Perhaps the psychologist had suggested it. It certainly seemed to work.

  “Now the first thing to tell you is that feeling stress about this is perfectly normal. I think Brian has already told you about what it’s doing to him, and I am also having trouble sleeping. To be honest you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel this.

  “We are trying to find some very dangerous people with an even more dangerous weapon.” She stopped, and then added: “Did you see the way I avoided calling it an atomic bomb? It just goes to show the way your brain finds ways not to think about terrible things.

  “But, as I was saying, the stress is very real and very present. The fact you are able to talk about the effect it is having on you is good. You shouldn’t be keeping those thoughts to yourself. But Brian and I are just as bad.

  “We’ve put so much effort into remaining calm that we’ve forgotten to acknowledge the problem, and that just makes things worse. But never mind; we are doing it now.”

  She looked across at him. “If you want to stop me at any point, get stuck in.”

  He responded with a firm shake of the head, so she carried on.

  “The fact that so many people have heard about you is a great compliment. There are thousands of detectives out there, but very few have
won your sort of recognition. But remember this. The people who do know about you and Brian also understand how hard it is to do your job.

  “No-one is expecting you to get absolutely everything right. What their reaction does show is how pleased they are to have you on their side. I know these things are hard for you to understand, but it means they totally respect you on the basis of what has gone before. You have earned the right to be considered a top detective, and nothing can take that away.

  “And that brings me on to the last point. You are in a team and it is a team where everyone has everyone else covered. It may turn out that your suspicions are wrong, but that’s why other people are looking into different ideas. If your lines of inquiry don’t pan out, others will. So that’s a big thing. You are not alone anymore. You are part of a team.”

  Hooley could almost see waves of tension floating off Roper. “Of course. I’ve managed to forget all that, which isn’t like me at all. I suppose that is the stress.”

  “That’s exactly what pressure does to anyone. It knocks things out of shape and leaves you doubting yourself. But that’s OK. Once you realise it is happening you can do something. You got this rolling when you spoke to Brian this afternoon.”

  “This is really helpful. I feel lighter in some way and my brain is coming back into focus.”

  Roper stood up and headed out of the room without a word, leaving the two police officers staring at the Roper-sized hole in the room.

  He reappeared. “I’m sorry. I need to spend a bit more time in my flapping room. Brian, would you like a drink? I’m going to be about an hour, maybe less.”

  “I’d be delighted and, tell you what, let me show our boss out and then go on to that lovely little pub round the back here; you know the one, it’s where we went last summer.”

  Roper disappeared again, and Hooley said, “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’.”

  They left the flat and headed for the lift, neither saying anything until they were outside. Mayweather’s driver was waiting close by. She held up both hands to indicate she would be ten minutes.

  “I think I’ll join you for a quick one, although it might be a soft drink.”

  Hooley nodded. “I’ve had my beer for the day. Jonathan and I will be heading back to the office shortly. If you don’t mind me saying so, that was brilliantly handled. I really didn’t expect you to start with telling him how well he was looking.”

  Mayweather said. “You can thank Dr. Beth for that. She told me something she had been keeping back in case it was needed. She discovered that his bad experiences of being bullied at school left him feeling he must actually look different to attract attention.

  “He told her that, when he went somewhere new, the bullies started on him straight away, so he convinced himself it was his appearance. She told me it was vital to send reassurance there is nothing wrong, that it didn’t mean his problems were starting all over again. It was also her idea to remind him he is part of a team.”

  “Well, that was brilliant; and I think he may be back on track, but I will be keeping a close eye on him. We can’t get away from the fact that he is probably the only one who can crack this problem. We need him back at his best.”

  Chapter 50

  He’d grasped the significance the first time around, but he wanted Roper to run it by him again. At the back of his mind he was hoping hearing it for a second time would make it sound less worrying.

  “The information has come from an MI5 source: someone they regard as a low-level asset at the foot soldier level. Not a front-line operator. That’s why the significance of this was missed first time round.

  “In fairness the information came through in a complicated way. It is from someone known to the informant who was, in turn, passing on what a third person had told him, so it was hardly the most direct line of communication.”

  “I thought this was exactly the sort of thing the intelligence types liked? All murky and difficult to pin down,” said Hooley. He waved his hand in the air. “Sorry. Stress brings out the grumpy old git in me.”

  Roper just carried on. “The third party reported that a mixed nationality group of men had been seen around the Regent’s Park area. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered about it, as it is that sort of area, but there was one thing that made them stick out.

  “One night it appeared that they had gone out for dinner and one of the group appeared to have had quite a lot to drink. He was in very high spirits and talking loudly. He was saying how pleased he was at the way things had gone.

  “The rest of the group were trying to keep him under control and at one point he started saying something and a big man, who appeared to be the leader, went up to him and whispered in his ear. After that he shut up.”

  “So, tell me again what he said that provoked the reaction?”

  “He started talking about how the rest of them should be grateful that he had had so much recent experience. At that point the bigger man shut him up straight away.”

  “Not being a party pooper, but there isn’t anything in that which sets off any alarms for me.”

  “I agree, but let me get to the end and explain why I think there is something here. This man was speaking Russian, but with a very thick accent. He was also said to be of East Asian appearance. The man who saw him says he was dressed very badly, like he’d stepped out of the 1970s and didn’t have a lot of money. The rest of the group looked well-dressed in a contemporary way.”

  The bad feeling he’d had the first time round had grown. He almost voiced his fears but instead asked Roper to run through the timeline again.

  “This happened in London four days ago. The MI5 informant is adamant about that since it was the same day as a big football game when his team were badly beaten by a Spanish side and the third party was complaining that the group had turned up at his pub just after the game finished.

  “So, if we accept that as correct, then that is eight days after somebody shot those policemen in France - or to put it in another way, we are now twelve days past that point; so if this is connected then the plutonium is definitely here.”

  Hooley took a deep breath to try and slow his heart down. He was feeling hot and a little disoriented.

  “I think I can see why you are making these links but talk me through it.”

  “Well, the fact that someone is speaking Russian makes you start thinking about connections to our case; obviously it might be a coincidence, but it could be more. What if the East Asian person was actually from North Korea?

  “Everyone knows how hard the North Koreans have been working at developing nuclear weapons, so what if this man was on one of the development teams? Then you factor in that the Russians have always had links to North Korea, especially on the nuclear programme, so I’ve been asking myself if it’s plausible that this man has been brought in because of his expertise. Even better, it is unlikely that any Western intelligence agency would be aware of him, so he could travel incognito.”

  “I don’t want to be negative, but it sounds like there are an awful lot of assumptions in there. I’d be willing to guess that you have already run this through your Rainbow Spectrum; what did it come back with?”

  “It’s complicated, but it seems to make my idea that this is a rogue operation more likely, given all the different people involved - but it has identified that there must be someone who is currently at a very high level on the Russian side.”

  Hooley would have liked to put his head in his hands. He’d kept hoping this would all turn out to be a misunderstanding but Roper kept coming up with more reasons why it was likely to be true.

  “What is your instinct saying we need to do next?”

  “I think I may have something: a lead on where the bomb might be and it’s because of this information that I think I can pinpoint it.”

  “That’s fantastic, Jonathan: some good news at last.”

  Roper looked slightly embarrassed at his boss’s enthusiastic response.

&nb
sp; “I’ve been looking for property that Yebedev might have rented, or bought, over the last twelve months and that turned out to be a bigger task than I had thought.

  “Not only does he use multiple company names, he has also been amazingly active - so I was swamped with information and none of it stood out. But my guess was that he would be looking for a building that’s quite high.”

  “I’m not going to like the answer to this, but why high?”

  “Because they will want to try and mimic the effects of an ‘air-burst’ detonation. With such a small device they will want radiation spread as far as possible, so the higher up you are the better. They can’t drop a bomb, so a tall building is the obvious choice.

  “But for some reason the only buildings he had directly acquired an interest in, at least as far as I could tell, were mostly outside London, so that didn’t seem to fit at all. Then, yesterday, I got a new company name to check out.

  “He called it the ALBE Corporation London, and this morning I discovered it was behind a leasing in West London called Park Buildings. Which reminded me that his two sons are called Alexander and Benedict, so taking the first two letters of each name gives you ALBE.

  “I’ve looked deeper; it’s a ten-storey apartment block and he has leased the entire top floor for twelve months. Now that would fit my theory about them wanting to be high up. At first, I was thinking that would mean being somewhere like Canary Wharf, but security there would be too tight.

  “This might suit them better, because it is not going to be top of the list of places to check out, but it gives them plenty of space to create a bomb and provides them with on-site accommodation since they wouldn’t want to draw attention with a lot of comings and going.

  “There are two more things that make it more probable. The building is very close to where our Russian-speaking East Asian man was seen, and the second is something that has only just occurred to me. To make this a really big threat they would want the radiation carried on the wind.