The Newsmaker (Volume One Book 1)

by Tom Field

  Walker’s eyes filled with tears and Ward could see the complete relief and joy flood across his face.

  Walker nodded.

  “Thank God!” Ashurst-Stevens exclaimed.

  Ward looked at him.

  “We’ve been worried sick,” he continued, “When we first knew that Joseph had been taken we employed Mr Lucas to make sure that Martin would be safe. We knew that there were people who were setting Martin up; that is why my lawyers have been so heavily involved.”

  “But you knowingly went along with the deaths of innocent people,” Ward reminded him.

  “No, that is not what happened,” Walker said.

  “You knew about this, both of you, when we met in London, yet you kept everything from me.”

  “We didn’t know until the Westminster incident and by then, our only concern was to keep Joseph safe,” Ashurst-Stevens said.

  “You had better tell me everything from the start,” Ward said to Walker, as he started to wonder if he had gotten everything so dramatically wrong.

  “He can’t,” Ashurst-Stevens said.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Ward said.

  “No, I meant he can’t because he knows only as much as I do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The instructions were coming from the lawyer whose nose you have just broken.”

  “Instructions from whom?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “What were the instructions?”

  “That we would have a film crew at a set location at a set time and if we didn’t, Martin’s son would be killed.”

  Ward thought back to when they were in London reviewing the footage of the Paris bombing and how Walker had brought them into the room, and then gone out immediately ten minutes before the bomb exploded in Westminster Abbey. He had gone out to give instructions.

  “There is money washing through his accounts,” Ward said pointing at Walker, “Where did that come from?” he asked.

  “We don’t know, but if it’s money he needs to pay back I will provide it. Martin has been with me from the beginning and we have built this empire together. I am not going to desert him in his hour of need,” Ashurst-Stevens said.

  “It’s not about the money. So, neither of you know who is behind it?”

  “Obviously if we did, we would point you in the right direction,” Ashurst-Stevens said.

  Ward stood up and opened the door. Lucas was now on his feet looking uneasy,

  “Where is the lawyer?” he said to Lawson.

  “Cleaning his nose in the bathroom.”

  Ward walked halfway down the hall to the toilet and walked in, it was empty.

  “The lawyer has gone,” he said to Lawson when he walked back from the toilet and into the boardroom, before stopping at the head of the table,

  “I want you to call the lawyer back now,” he demanded of Ashurst-Stevens.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he doesn’t work for me.”

  “You said he was part of your inner circle.”

  “What was I meant to say? They have my dear friends son held hostage; I was hardly going to tell you anything with him here until I knew Joseph was safe. I’m his Godfather for God’s sake.”

  “So who does he work for?”

  “I don’t know. He appeared two weeks ago with a video of Joseph tied to a chair and said we had to follow three simple instructions and he would be unharmed.”

  “What was the third instruction?” Ward asked.

  “We don’t know yet,” Ashurst-Stevens replied.

  “The other two lawyers?”

  “They work for me,” he said, “Their role was to try and make sure that I wasn’t compromised in any way.”

  Ward was almost convinced that Ashurst-Stevens was telling the truth, Walker was for sure,

  “When can I see my son?” Walker asked.

  Ward thought back to Gilligan’s dying words and about how important his boys were to him. He thought about McDermott and how proud he was of his son Paul. He thought about his own hidden desire to be a father and have a son of his own, and he saw how desperate Walker was to hold his son and hug him and tell him he loved him.

  “You can come with me right now to see him,” Ward said, “He hasn’t stopped asking for you since we found him. His only concern was that you were OK. You should be very proud of him Mr Walker, he stayed strong for you,” Ward exaggerated.

  Walker’s eyes filled with tears and they slowly started to run down his cheeks.

  Even Ashurst-Stevens had to swallow hard to regain his composure.

  “You contact me as soon as they get back in touch with you,” he demanded to Ashurst-Stevens.

  “Yes I will.”

  “Let’s go,” Ward said to Walker.

  He walked out of the room and Walker followed.

  “We are going back to Nicole-Louise’s,” he said to Lawson.

  “Just like that? We are further back from where we started,” Lawson replied.

  “You are wrong Mike. I now know the one answer I couldn’t fathom out.”

  THIRTY FOUR

  Back at Nicole-Louise and Tackler’s apartment, McDermott and his team were waiting. Ward watched as Walker hugged his young son and would not let him go. It was a warming sight that brought a human element to the events that they were faced with, and Ward gave a quick thought to the mothers, fathers and loved ones who would have lost someone close to them in the Paris and London bombings. The warmth he felt was quickly replaced by a wave of anger as a picture of Gilligan’s wife trying to console her two sons, who would by now be aware that their giant of a father was never coming home again, washed through his mind. Nicole-Louise put her hand in Tackler’s, and in a room full of nine lethal killers, no one spoke.

  Until Lawson unintentionally pulled Ward back into focus when he whispered,

  “I still can’t believe it.”

  Ward ignored the comment.

  “OK everyone, we still have a bomb to find,” he said.

  “How did you know that his son would be there?” McDermott asked.

  Ward thought about how he knew and how it was probably time to explain everything clearly to the others who had risked their lives. With Walker in attendance, Ward was hoping he could fill in the parts that didn’t add up.

  “OK. From the beginning,” he said and watched as every person in the room adjusted into a position of comfort, like they were a class full of junior kids waiting for a story to be read out to them.

  “I need a laptop,” he said to Tackler, who promptly stood up and picked up a grey laptop that was already running. Ward took out the memory stick that Tackler had prepared for him and plugged it in. They watched as the file directory opened up and saw two headings, ‘Paris’ and ‘London’. He moved the cursor onto ‘Paris’, and double clicked it, opening a media window, and he pressed the pause button.

  “The moment I saw this footage I knew it was completely wrong,” he said.

  “That was in London when you said you knew who was behind it,” Lawson said, “I’ve watched that twenty times and I still can’t see a link between the footage of the two bombs or any people who were in both places.”

  Ward ignored him.

  He pressed the play button and they watched as for five seconds, Abbi Beglin was talking with the Louvre behind her and then it switched to her talking for a further fifty five seconds before the explosion ripped out through the Metro station.

  He then pressed pause at the point that the smoke was starting to bellow out of the station.

  He then looked around the room. Walker looked at the floor; he was the only other person there who knew what Ward was looking at, because he had instructed it to happen.

  He closed the media window and then clicked on ‘London’, and opened it up and pressed play. The footage showed a politician talking with the Abbey behind him, and then there was a close up of the Abbey, and then back to the poli
tician talking, and they all watched as a black cab pulled up behind him and thirty seconds later, exploded. Ward pressed the pause button again.

  “Now do you see it?” he asked everyone in the room.

  Walker continued to look at the floor.

  “No,” Lawson said.

  McDermott shook his head.

  “They should never have caught those incidents on film,” Ward said to the room. They all looked at him blankly.

  “Let’s try it this way,” he said, “Mr Walker, what is one of the golden rules of news production?”

  “To keep the camera rolling at all times,” he said quietly.

  “On what?”

  “On the subject matter,” he replied.

  Ward looked at everyone else in the room and he immediately saw the realisation of what they were looking at hit hard; so hard with Lawson that it almost made a noise.

  “How can I have been so stupid?” Lawson said.

  “I still don’t get it,” McDermott stated.

  “I do,” Tackler said, “I looked at that twenty times with him,” he said in a hostile tone pointing to Lawson, “I can’t believe I was that stupid not to see it,” he added.

  “Help me out someone?” McDermott pleaded.

  “If you were filming an interview in front of The Louvre or Westminster Abbey, where would you point the camera?” Ward asked him.

  “At the buildings,” he replied.

  “Not at the Metro station or the road behind?” Ward asked him.

  “Oh my God!” McDermott exclaimed, “They knew it was coming.”

  “No they didn’t,” Ward replied.

  The room went quiet again.

  “But Mr Walker did,” he said, still conscious of the fact his son was in the room, and referring to him formally in response to this.

  Walker was still looking at the floor.

  “He instructed the on-site producers to change camera angle so the blasts could be caught going off on film because that is what the people behind this wanted,” Ward said.

  “And if he didn’t do it, then he would never see his son again, because they would kill him live on webcam?” McDermott asked, actually sounding pleased with himself.

  Walker visibly shook at the thought.

  “Very subtle,” Ward said, giving McDermott a heavy stare as he said it.

  “So why go through all of this to get it caught on camera?” Tackler asked, “I mean the whole world carries a cell phone with a camera built in that has equally as good quality and someone would have filmed it, they always do.”

  “That was the ‘Why?’ part that I couldn’t put together, no matter how I looked at it. In any event that takes place, anywhere in the world, there is always something to gain for someone; but on this, even though I had the ‘Why?’ given to me in London, even now, I can’t make it fit,” Ward replied.

  “Charlie Dunno?” Lawson asked, “He wrote a word on a piece of paper for you, to a question you wrote down, what was the word?”

  “Money.”

  “What was the question?”

  “Why would a news corporation sponsor a terrorist to detonate bombs?”

  “So he was wrong,” Lawson said, “It was about saving this kids life?”

  “No, he was right,” Ward said, “We still have to find out why?”

  Ward looked at Walker; he was still looking at the floor in shame.

  “The lawyer,” Lawson said, “If we find him, we find who was behind it and we beat them until they tell us the why.”

  “No. We know who was behind it already,” Ward replied.

  “Who?”

  “Ashurst-Stevens.”

  Walker still looked at the floor. Joseph looked at Ward,

  “That can’t be right, he is my Godfather and my dad’s friend,” he said.

  “It is right. I almost believed him an hour ago but he was lying. So we need to confirm three things to prove it,” Ward said to the room.

  “What three things are they?” asked Tackler.

  “First the origin of the money that went through Mr Walker’s account. You said you still can’t find the source of it, correct?”

  “I haven’t found it yet, but I will,” Tackler replied.

  “We know it ended up with Fulken and where it came from, but we have to find who put it there. Mr Walker knew nothing about it, I know that,” Ward said.

  Walker still looked at the floor.

  “Secondly, what has Ashurst-Stevens gained from this?” Ward asked, “Nicole-Louise, I want you to tear the accounts of his whole empire, including subsidiaries, apart until you find something,” he demanded.

  Walker still looked at the floor.

  Tackler turned his back on the room and started tapping on his keyboard immediately.

  Nicole-Louise got up from the armchair and moved to her side of the room and did the same thing.

  “And the third thing?” Lawson asked.

  “We need to find out where the third bomb is due to go off?”

  “So we need to pay Ashurst-Stevens a visit?” McDermott asked.

  “We need to find Fulken first.”

  “How?” Lawson asked, “We’ve been chasing him for nine days yet still got nowhere.”

  “The UPS van,” Ward said, “We find it.”

  “How?” Lawson asked.

  “We know where the bomb was made. Nicole-Louise told me that there had only been a few residents and delivery vans pass the building, so one of them will be our bomb. If Tackler concentrates on the money trail, Nicole-Louise can hack into the traffic system and follow any U.P.S vans that were in the area, between the two vans from Hubert Street arriving and us turning up.”

  “I’m on it,” Nicole-Louise said.

  “Then you can send two of your team to each possibility to check it out,” he added, looking at McDermott who nodded back immediately.

  “What about me?” Lawson asked.

  “We have something personal to do,” Ward replied.

  “I have to ask, how do you know that Ashurst-Stevens is lying?” Lawson asked, “There are still a number of unproven and unquantified suggestions that you have given us.”

  The whole room went quiet. Nicole-Louise and Tackler stopped tapping on their keyboards and turned to see Ward’s reaction.

  “Mr Walker still has something very important to tell us, don’t you?” Ward said, looking down at him.

  Walker raised his head for the first time and looked sullenly at him.

  “Yes I do, I’m sorry,” he said, “I know who killed your friend.”

  “Gilligan?” McDermott asked.

  “Yes,” Ward replied, “That’s how I knew Ashurst-Stevens was lying. He told me that they had employed Lucas for protection, but Mr Walker has been held as a virtual hostage. Ashurst-Stevens put him in place to stop him telling us anything he shouldn’t. Even though they had Joseph there as collateral, they needed to keep an eye on him at all times. Right back in London, when I was told Mr Walker was unavailable when we went to the UKBC News offices and then he suddenly reappeared, I knew this.”

  Everyone looked at Walker.

  Walker’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor as Ward continued,

  “I made a call to Mr Walker and led him into giving short replies to arouse Lucas’ suspicion, to see what the reaction would be, and he struck Mr Walker, so it was clear that he was never there to protect him, he was there to guard him. Only Ashurst-Stevens would have needed that. The lawyers were simply there to protect Ashurst-Stevens. He will be covered legally no matter what.”

  “That’s why he gave us enough truth about what he knew so that if Walker did talk, he can claim he was supporting him?” Lawson asked.

  “Exactly. He has set Mr Walker up perfectly to be the fall guy if anything goes wrong,” he replied, “Even when we kidnapped him, it was obvious that apart from protecting his son, he had no idea what was happening,” he added.

  Walker looked up from the floor,

  “That was
you?” he asked, looking at Ward.

  “Yes it was,” Ward replied, “For your own protection.”

  “I was petrified,” he said, looking back at the floor.

  “When we told you that one of the men asking questions was dead you were genuinely surprised, you couldn’t fake that. Tell me what happened when you got back to the USBC offices?”

  “Mr Lucas punched me until he was convinced that I hadn’t told you anything,” Walker replied.

  He then stood up and lifted up his shirt. His whole body was covered in bright purple and blue bruises.

  “He then demanded to know every single word you had said to me and I recited it almost word perfect,” he added.

  “And he was happy with that?” Ward asked.

  “Eventually, yes. Then when I told him about you wanting me to call a number because you said that you wanted to kill the Brit, he told me that he would take care of you and that he had already killed the big guy, and that you got lucky by darting behind a car. He told me that he enjoyed it and that after he had killed you, he might kill Joseph just for fun because he liked killing.”

  “We should pay him a visit,” Lawson said.

  “Yes we should,” he replied, “And maybe we can invite The Optician too,” he added.

  “Is everyone clear on what they have to do?” Ward asked.

  The room echoed with a united ‘Yes’, and Ward looked at Walker,

  “Stay here with your son Mr Walker. This will all work out OK, and the mess left behind will get cleared up, it always does. In a couple of days you will be able to go back to your normal life, and in time, you will forget this ever happened, or that we existed.”

  “I doubt I’ll ever forget you people,” he replied, smiling for the first time since he got to the apartment.

  “You had better forget us.” Ward said menacingly.

  THIRTY FIVE

  Ward looked at his watch. It was now 4.25pm.

  He was sure that Lucas would still be at the USBC News offices, no doubt offering a long excuse to Ashurst-Stevens as to why he got put on the floor.