Three Faces of West (2013)

by Christian Shakespeare

  “The same plant used to derive Scopolamine back in the lab.” Replied Jack. Clearly he was catching on,

  “Yes enough released through various methods is sufficient to cause headaches, nausea, dizziness and general disorientation. That was enough for the police to charge Mr Grey with terrorism offences. The investigation was carried out by the Serious Organised Crime Agency led by, according to this, our very own Inspector Brian Waterson!”

  This was definitely a positive lead; the man clearly had form, a motive and history to boot. Jack desperately wanted to find him,

  “Where is he now?” He asked knowing that John probably had the answers,

  “Exactly where I managed to derive this info from, the police files, intelligence sources, well only as much as I can obtain with my level of clearance, and the prison service. Currently he is being held in Belmarsh Prison.”

  “Then that is where we need to go.” Stated Jack.

  They proceeded to get their coats, only interrupted by the ring of Jack’s telephone. Quickly reacting West turned round and grabbed the receiver. Instantly recognising the voice on the other end, told him exactly what the call was about,

  “Right we’re on our way.” He said sternly. Things were moving along now,

  “Who was that?” Asked John,

  “The lab, some kind of development. Come on lets go.”

  Both men stormed out of their offices towards the corridor. They hadn’t got 400 yards until they inevitably bumped into the scientist they had earlier conversed with,

  “Hello again, Listen I’ve done a cross reference with local hospitals in the greater London area, checked stock records for items and the like. I have a match! Remember the number on the scalpel? That was a tracking number; I found the supplier and obtained their medical delivery records. The number 774459 indicates it comes from Lewisham Hospital, right next to Lewisham Park.”

  This rang bells with Jack. Instantly his instincts about the scopolamine came to the fore. If that was a medical drug, a hospital would be the perfect place to obtain it, same with a scalpel. That would be if the scientist dipped in with a slight variation,

  “Tracking this device I found one thing out, it’s not used in general surgery; it is used on cadavers in the hospital mortuary.”

  He carried on. Clearly he had been busy himself,

  “I know this hospital; I’ve done some research work there before, at the moment there are building or road works happening opposite. Perhaps your stone fragments and hessian could have come from there?”

  Jack agreed, “It’s a possibility. We’ll have to see, thanks for your help. If there’s anything else let us know will you.”

  “Will do.”

  Leaving West and Hudson to go back to the lab, both men stood in the corridor. Jack began wondering what to do next, he now a more than one lead to follow. They decoded to chase the Belmarsh line first, heading back to the offices to get their coats was a fateful decision. Entering the offices they were stopped again, this time by Harvey. Ever present in his three piece power suits he cut a powerful figure,

  “I’ve just had word from the Met police; I know you have been following up possible leads to this case so I’m telling you both now. Thanks to the autopsy examinations of the body they believe with some confidence that the killers indeed had a poison that causes madness, it was contained in the decanter that was broken and whoever made this attack forced the potion down Finnin’s throat almost drowning him in the process. In a fit of rage he lashed out and bit at one of the killers, apparently with some considerable violence.”

  “They told you all that?” Asked John

  “I requested an update, I don’t have to tell them the reason, they have an obligation to divulge any assisting evidence when it comes to national security. I did it for you two, I suggest you use it.” Was Harvey’s straight cut reply. Jack decided to report there and then,

  “We have been doing some investigating. We have a possible suspect, and man called Maxwell Grey, English born half-Georgian dissident. Highly educated, in chemistry and has carried out attacks at home and in Russia.”

  “I’ve heard of this, is this the one who tried to poison the Mayor a while back?” Said Harvey,

  “Yes and he was caught, tried and charged under the Terrorism Act. He’s being held currently in Belmarsh prison.” Interrupted John,

  “This has all the hallmarks of his handy work, but don’t forget he’s quite intelligent if he’s inside he could have hired assailants to do the dirty work for him. And that really does pose a security threat.” Asserted Harvey,

  “Just what we were thinking.” Replied Jack,

  “Then I suggest you go to Belmarsh and confront our friend.” Ordered Harvey while turning round making his way back to his private office.

  West and Hudson followed suit, making the way back to their offices to get their coats before being interrupted again, this time by a junior member of the team. Some additional information had come their way on Finnin himself,

  “Excuse me sir, this just came through.” The junior handed West an email printout,

  “According to New Scotland Yard Finnin had an understudy, a student from the London School of Economics seconded to him as an intern. Somebody called David.”

  “What do the police know about this David?” Asked West not expecting a definite answer,

  “According to the police report this young lad called David had shown disciplinary issues both at the university and at the secondment and was therefore volatile in nature.” Replied the junior,

  “Sounds quite a character.” John remarked,

  “Very much so, where does this David live?” Asked Jack

  “Finchley” Was the reply from the young official. North London, in the borough of Barnet, and on high ground, yet another lead in this case. If the police hadn’t followed it, both West and Hudson had to oblige,

  “Where are we going next, to Belmarsh, Lewisham or Finchley?” Asked John,

  Jack replied swiftly, “Belmarsh. That’s where our potential criminal mastermind is so that’s where we are going.”

  John looked on pensive wondering why they were following up on so many leads. He knew they had to follow up direct threats to security, but multiple leads and investigations are for the police, not the security service,

  “That’s fine, but can I remind you that we have not been cleared by the police to follow so many lines of enquiry. I know they have been cooperative but what if we interfere with the course of justice more than we have already, we could prejudice any future trial and if that allows a terror suspect to walk free then how do we look?”

  Jack afforded John the outburst, but he had a good reason to because he knew more than his partner ever could at this time,

  “In the interests of security the intelligence service comes above the police force. If they have a problem they go above our heads. In the meantime we just keep our heads down and get on with it. If we get shot at or get dirty then so be it. It isn’t our job to complain, we just do what we are told to. No matter whatever the circumstances we always come first.”

  This was the second time John had questioned the motives of Jack’s methods. The case was rapidly becoming more complex than before, and it was showing a strain on their professional relationship.

  Chapter 5:

  Belmarsh Prison, 10:00 am, the brightness of the day outside only tempered by a slight breeze. West and Hudson arrived at the front of the prison, pulling up in the car park. The great vast high walls surrounding the compound spanned before them crowned by the main red brick gate gatehouse in the middle. Making their way across the car park took no time at all to reach the brown doors of the main reception, upon entering and looking up, John could not help but notice the obviously visible CCTV camera on the outside watching the entrance,

  “God knows whoever that camera has captured.” He thought to himself.

  Going through the automatic glass doors the reception felt quite warm ins
ide. Obviously this was the comfortable inviting part of the prison but the rest would not be as such. Even so there was an atmosphere of gloominess about the place, the walls, white and stippled with paint, the brown out of date carpet covering the floor, those long fluorescent light bulbs you only get in hospitals adorning the ceiling. The only splash of colour to alleviate the drabness was the large A3 type statutory posters on the wall indicating the prison regulations, health and safety practices and other smaller notices. Accompanying them were the other adornments in the form of tiny posters warning of the dangers of crime.

  As soon as they were approaching the door from the outside, they were seen by the duty receptionist so upon entering the element of surprise had completely dissipated. West approached the large reception desk with Hudson in tow. The clerk on duty acknowledged them as they stood in front of him,

  “Can I help you? Have you got a visiting order?” He asked, sitting behind the large glass screen covering the desk like some kind of grandiose bank counter, John intervened,

  “Who we work for means we don’t need a visiting order.”

  “My name is Jack West; this is John Hudson, counter intelligence. We would like to see your governor; there’s one of your inmates that we would like to interview. Is there somebody we can speak to?”

  He produced his special ID as did John to prove their claim. The receptionist, while sceptical, was prepared to accept the request,

  “Can you wait there?” He ordered while disappearing through a back door into an adjoining corridor.

  Taking the time to look around the room they noticed chairs around the edges, upholstered to the same taste as the carpet. They had no time to comment as the receptionist very quickly returned from the back with a superior and both West and Hudson both introduced themselves again this time to the senior warden. Like his junior counterpart he appeared to accept them as he gestured for them to follow him around the side. Opening up a door to the rear of the reception by keypad the heavy entrance swung open as the warden stood aside for the West and Hudson to enter,

  “If you’d like to follow me sirs, I take you to the administrative block.” He said,

  “Thank you.” Replied Jack.

  He led them out of the rear of the reception down a corridor. Brick lines and painted white, the decor was somewhat lighter than the reception as the carpet had changed from brown to blue. The corridors of the prison seemed like a maze, corridor after corridor, passing office after office, the admin block seemed like miles away.

  Eventually they arrived at a white iron bar security gate. Fitted with a time lock, both West and Hudson tried not to be tempted and take a peek at the code imputed by the senior warden. The whole area was laced with security cameras so even if they did have a look, the strong chances were that they would be seen by unknown prying eyes. Passing through the gate was not problem as it pivoted open to allow access for the three men. Jack noticed that this area seemed different in its feel, there were definitely more office workers and wardens here than before. Jack knew they were in the administrative block so the governor’s office could not be far away now. Continually they followed the warden, up a flight of stairs and into yet another office,

  “In here sir,” He said to both men, “This is the governor’s reception area. I’ll just let them know who you are”.

  “That’s fine.” Said Jack. By now they were a little apprehensive. Hopefully the governor should be a reasonable person, and cooperative in letting them interview one of their terrorist prisoners. Standing in the doorway, the two men could clearly see the warden have a quiet word with the secretary who was clearly pre occupied with her computer at her desk. Seemed like she was having problems with the computer system at her workstation directly in front of them. Jack watched as she glanced over to them, obviously checking them out, seeing her nod her head told Jack that they were clear to proceed,

  “Over here sirs.” Said the warden gesturing them to advance. John and Jack advanced forward to the secretary’s desk,

  “I’ll leave you to it. I have to get back on duty.” Said the warden. He left the two men with the secretary as Jack began the introductions,

  “My name is Jack West and this is John Hudson-‘

  The secretary politely interrupted, “That’s OK, I’ve been informed who you are. You wish to speak with the governor.”

  “That’s correct. Is he available right now?” Replied Jack.

  The secretary got up from her seat and moved around the desk,

  “I’ll just see if he’s free. If you would like to wait here please I’ll be just a moment.”

  She knocked on an adjoining door, disappearing into the next room,

  “I hope she doesn’t find him dead.” Thought Jack cynically.

  They did not have to wait long, looking around the room; it was a typical office, notice boards, filing cabinets, desks, office equipment, nothing unusual. Their instinctive scan of the office was only interrupted by the opening of the door. Both West and Hudson turned to face whoever was coming out. The secretary came out first followed by a grey haired man in a light grey suit, early fifties and slightly shorter than John and Jack. He greeted the two men cordially,

  “Hello my name is Stephen Jones, I’m the governor here.” He said while shaking the two men’s hands,

  “I have been told who you are; I understand you require access to one of our inmates here.”

  “Yes,” Replied Jack, “We wish to see one of your long term prisoners, someone called Maxwell Grey.”

  The governor replied somewhat audaciously,

  “Mr West, we have many prisoners here, all of them serving lengthy terms. We house some of the most dangerous men in the country.”

  “I’m only interested in just one, Maxwell Grey.” Jack fired back.

  The governor paused for a second before turning to his secretary,

  “Jill, can you access the prisoner register, call up the file for a prisoner called Grey.”

  “I would, but we’ve been having these stupid computer glitches all morning. The system is completely down. The technicians are trying to fix a workaround but until then…”

  Stephen knew what she was talking about; he was suffering the same glitches himself,

  “Can we get a hard copy of the physical file then; the records should be in the admin block.”

  The secretary promptly obeyed as she turned to exit the room. The admin block was just round the corner so it shouldn’t take long to locate the correct file,

  “She won’t be long gentlemen; we have an excellent filing system here. Can I offer you some refreshments perhaps; would either of you like a cup of tea?”

  “No thank you.” Said Jack sounding as polite as he could,

  “I’m fine as well thanks.” Added John.

  The sound of thudding outside told the three men that someone was approaching the office, perhaps it was the secretary. The wait was momentary as it was indeed the secretary walking in through the door carrying a brown paper folder. Opening it she positioned herself beside her boss to allow him to examine it,

  “File number 654/989, for prisoner number 384788/C name Grey, Maxwell.” She pronounced. This instantly grabbed the attention of both John and Jack as they knew their man was here,

  “Ah yes Grey.” Said the governor as he looked inside, “First admitted here 24 months ago after being convicted for terrorist offences. Currently serving a 15 year term.”

  West needed to find him, “We need to talk to him in relation to a possible secondary incident. Can you tell me where he is, it’s imperative that we speak to him.”

  The governor respected the wishes of West, in charge of a category A prison he knew full well the calibre of men incarcerated within its walls. Twelve foot high barriers are not going to stop the most hardened criminal,

  “Well he was on C wing but it says here in the prisoner log that he was moved last Thursday to the seg unit.”

  “What’s the ‘seg unit’?” Asked John,<
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  The secretary filled him in. She was used to the jargon and abbreviations used by prisoners and wardens alike,

  “It means segregation unit.”

  “So he’s in solitary confinement.” Queried Jack,

  The governor butted in, “Yes that’s correct. Prisoners are usually transferred there on a temporary basis when they step out of line. Additionally they get part or all of their privileges removed as a result. This being a maximum security prison you cannot underestimate the type of criminals we have here. We’re not talking about petty thieves; these are dangerous men, murders, rapists and terrorists. I’m afraid not even barbed wire and iron bars can deter the criminal minds of the mindless filth that we have in here.”

  Jack totally understood the rhetoric of the governor, even though it was a little bit unorthodox for a man in his position. Still he needed to speak to Grey,

  “Can you arrange for us to set up an interview with our friend?”

  “I’m afraid that may be a little difficult, for normal prisoners we could, but those in the segregation wing are in there for a reason. The only times they are moved from their cells are during transfer, a medical emergency or exercise.” The governor replied,

  John stepped in to the polite little standoff, “We do need to speak to him today though.”

  The governor back down slightly. He was not unreasonable and was prepared for compromise,

  “Alright what I can do is arrange for you to be escorted to the isolation wing, but I can only limit access to Grey himself. I’m not prepared to compromise the security of the wing so I’m afraid you will have talk to him through the door. That’s the best I can do I’m afraid.”

  “That’s fine.” Replied Jack,

  “One more thing though Mr West, I’ll call ahead to the segregation wing and let them know you are coming down, but I’ll have to issue you both with security passes, Jill can you get some out of the draw just there.”