Grave Island: a compelling mystery thriller

by Andrew Smyth

  I took his hand and shook it. To be honest, I was a bit taken aback. I hadn’t expected my services to be dispensed with quite so brusquely but I was thinking ahead to my meeting with Sayed.

  I knew we’d reach this situation eventually, just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon. But a tactical withdrawal now would allow me to open a second front at a later date. I said goodbye and let their operative escort me to the street. It was getting to be a bit of a habit.

  20

  I’d arranged to meet Greta that evening after I’d seen Sayed and, following the weekend I’d spent with her on the south coast, I was looking forward to it. But I was still concerned about what Ken Maxwell and his team were going to make of the intelligence I’d given them. One of the worst things anyone can say to you is “Thanks, we can take it from here”. And I didn’t really intend to be brushed aside as though my contribution was at an end. For the time being, I couldn’t really see what I could do about it and I thought an evening with Greta would take my mind off it and perhaps I’d wake up with some ideas the next day.

  I thought it time for something a bit more modern, so I brought out my Ottolenghi cookbook but since he didn’t have a recipe that used fewer than seventeen ingredients there was no way I could find them all in my local shop. Instead I went through my other books to find something that combined enough complication to impress but without it taking all afternoon in preparation. I didn’t want her to think that I’d shot my bolt with beef stroganoff.

  I didn’t have time to go to the main market so had to make do with what the local shop had in stock and as I walked down the aisles I marvelled again at the sheer quantity of crisps, sweets and snacks that must have taken up at least half the store. They did, however, have some frozen lamb so I had to make do with that, along with some red peppers and olives to make a reasonable stew and took them back to the boat and started cooking.

  Some people need narcotics to go into a trance, music will do it for others. For me, it was cooking and it must have been over an hour later, when I finally had everything ready, that I got to open the bottle of Meursault someone had brought me – though knowing my friends they probably thought it was an ordinary plonk. I’d been saving it up for a special occasion and given what had happened to me over the past couple of months, I couldn’t think of an occasion more special than a quiet night in with Greta. I was trying unsuccessfully to kid myself that this time I didn’t want her to stay overnight. I picked up the wine and sniffed it. If anything would do it, the Meursault would.

  Ali had told me that he didn’t know whether he could make it but that I should go ahead without him. In a funny sort of way I hoped that Sayed wouldn’t have anything of importance to tell me because I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to handle it, but there was no point worrying about it until it happened.

  When he arrived, Sayed seemed quite cheerful compared to his previous visit. He climbed up the gangplank into the saloon and was still enthusing over his visit back home. I didn’t try to interrupt – he’d get around to telling me what he’d come for in his own time. I made the usual mug of tea and handed it to him. Despite his increasingly western outlook, he still wouldn’t touch alcohol. He took it and sat down looking out at the city through the saloon windows. I couldn’t begin to work out what he saw when he looked at his adoptive city – I hoped it was another home. I sat down and waited for him to finish.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘You want to hear the latest. I’m making progress with Khazim although he still doesn’t trust me completely, I think he sees me as being on the same side as him.’

  ‘And which side is that?’

  Sayed shrugged. ‘If you look at all this,’ he said indicating the sweep of the river and the towering offices that bordered it, ‘how can someone like Khazim think that we Muslims have been dealt a fair hand? Think how it looks to him when he compares it with where he came from.’

  I sipped my tea and said nothing. I’d sometimes made these comparisons myself and had given up trying to reconcile them. If it was difficult for me it must have been even worse for Sayed – and I’d seen the place where he grew up.

  ‘Khazim has been given a project.’ I still said nothing. “Project” was what they called a planned operation – a euphemism for possible carnage.

  ‘How do you know?’ I thought it was time to try to pin him down. ‘Do they talk to you about it?’

  ‘Not directly, but they’re used to having me around. I think they assume that I’m one of them.’

  ‘Haven’t they tried to recruit you?’

  Sayed laughed. ‘Of course they have – especially because I know about pharmacy. But you’ve got to understand what the atmosphere is like in these places. Everyone is a convert, everyone is a fighter for Islam and they think I’m one of them. I try to defuse the situation – I don’t say that I’m with them, but I don’t say that I’m not. I tell them how much I admire them but hint that I don’t think I’m yet ready for it. I tell them I’m still working on my Koranic studies and hoping to reach enlightenment soon and that seems to satisfy them.’ This time Sayed’s laugh was bitter. ‘You can get away with most things if you bring in the Koran. They’re so convinced of themselves they don’t realise that the Koran is not seen in the same way by everyone. They say the Koran says this, or the Koran says that and it doesn’t occur to them that others might have a different view.’

  At that moment, there was a knocking on the saloon door and I saw that Ali had managed to get there. I waved him in and he shook hands with Sayed – rather formally, I thought, which was probably no bad thing.

  ‘Sayed thinks that Khazim is on a project,’ I told Ali as he walked in. I turned back to Sayed. ‘So what do you know about it?’

  ‘It’s an arms shipment. It’s taking place tomorrow, but I’m not quite sure where.’

  ‘Can you find out?’ I asked. ‘Perhaps get a bit closer to them?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that, but if I try to get closer I’m afraid they’re going to suck me in and once in, they’re not going to allow me to leave.’

  ‘I could probably arrange protection,’ Ali said.

  ‘Perhaps.’ I could tell that Sayed wasn’t entirely convinced and I wasn’t sure that I was either. ‘Couldn’t I tip you off when I think they’ve started to move and then you take it from there?’

  ‘It’s going to be a bit difficult if we don’t know what they’re doing or where they’re doing it. We need more information. You’ve got this far, couldn’t you go that bit further?’ I realised that although it sounded simple, it was a lot to ask. These people don’t take prisoners.

  ‘There seem to be different levels in the group. The foot soldiers start at the bottom and work their way up. After a while, they leave the group and we don’t see them again.’

  Unless it’s on the news, I thought bitterly. A photograph of them posted onto a website – taken before the attack while they were still alive.

  ‘So you think this is Khazim’s test?’ Ali asked.

  ‘If it’s what I think it is, then yes. But it’s important. They’re talking about a large cache of arms. I think they’re coming in by boat and Khazim’s going to take delivery. He was talking to me about the money they’ve given him to buy a van. About how he’s afraid he might buy the wrong one.’ Sayed laughed. ‘Khazim is not very practical, but they’ve told him which one he has to buy so that it can’t be traced back to them.’

  ‘Can you get me the registration number when he buys it?’ Ali asked, but I thought this was ridiculously over-optimistic. If they regarded an arms shipment as a “simple” test, paving the way to more important things, then it was an indication of how important they considered the next stage to be. I thought of the attacks in France where rapid-fire automatic weapons had sprayed death indiscriminately. If the terrorists were prepared to die, it could create more carnage even than a well-placed bomb and the photographs of the killers would be on front pages around the world.

  ‘There�
��s another meeting tomorrow morning, with a visiting preacher who’s quite well known. He’s quite a… a…,’ Sayed was searching for the word, ‘a rabble-rouser. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes, quite right.’ His English had made remarkable progress and he now had barely an accent.

  ‘I think it’s a sort of code. They advertise that this preacher is coming and it seems innocent to most people but it’s a signal for the other people involved that the project is about to start. Once Khazim’s bought the van they’ll tell him where to take it.’

  ‘You really think it will be tomorrow?’ Ali asked, although I couldn’t see how we could do much in such a short timescale.

  ‘I think everyone’s ready for it, so yes, I think it’ll be tomorrow, but there’s just one thing.’ Here Sayed became hesitant. ‘I think that your security services might have already infiltrated the cell. Do you know anything about that?’

  I knew that Jeff Masters had told me they had a file on Sayed and Khazim, but that wasn’t the same as an infiltration. ‘What makes you think that?’ I asked, stalling.

  ‘It’s a guess, really. I’ve seen people in odd sorts of places. Khazim says he thinks he was followed once and I think I might have been. You see someone reflected in a shop window and think you’ve seen him before. Sort of shadows.’

  I suddenly had the feeling that I was being used; that Masters knew all along about this cell and was using me as a possible inside source, without telling me that they were already aware of most of what was going on. I looked across at Ali. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Leave that with me,’ he said. ‘I’ll check with my contacts and see. But you shouldn’t have to worry about it. I’ve already told them about you and they understand that you’re helping us.’

  ‘I hope they do,’ Sayed said, which for him was quite a change. ‘If they are watching us then I don’t want to get picked up by mistake.’ At least he was being realistic.

  ‘Phone me on this number,’ I said handing him the paper Jeff Masters had given me. ‘It’s more secure. Or text me if you can’t talk. I’ll be nearby.’

  ‘What? No. You can’t be. If anyone sees you…’

  ‘They won’t. I said I’d be nearby, not next door. You remember that anonymous café we walked past the time before last? I said it might be useful as a meeting place? It’s close enough to the mosque in case they take off and we lose them. Oh, I forgot.’ I went over to the sideboard. ‘They gave me this tracker device. We can track you through your phone, but this is more accurate. Keep it on you.’

  Sayed put it in his pocket along with the phone number, but he looked undecided.

  ‘So can you go there tomorrow?’ I asked in encouragement.

  ‘Yes. I’ll go tomorrow, but I’ll… I’ll… play it by ear?’ Sayed looked at me questioningly, as if hoping he’d got the right phrase.

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Play it by ear.’

  I followed him out on deck and watched him down the pontoon before returning to Ali who was looking at his phone. ‘What do you think?’ I asked.

  He said nothing, apparently reading some of his messages, but I thought this was a pretence to avoid talking to me. He looked up. ‘At least this time you’ve got Thames House involved. Perhaps you’ve finally realised that the rules might apply to you as well.’ He put away his phone and stood up. ‘I’ll let you update Giles Hathaway. Tell him I’ll be in touch about tomorrow.’

  He walked out of the saloon without another word and I shook my head as I watched him go. It was clear that the grit that had entered our friendship was working its way into something much more serious.

  I sighed as I realised that there wasn’t much I could do about it. Ali had always had an outlook that was difficult to change. Instead I brought out the MI5 phone and updated Hathaway with what Sayed had told me.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That accords with our own intelligence.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that. It seemed to confirm Sayed’s suspicions. ‘So you already know about this operation?’

  ‘I told you, we keep track of most of what’s going on in that part of north London. We’re getting a team together and can watch the meeting room and hopefully you can tell us if Sayed manages to get a message to you. If this preacher is the excuse for them all to get together, then we want to move fast if your Sayed can tell us where they’re headed.’

  ‘According to Sayed it’ll just be Khazim. He thinks Khazim’s getting a van and is driving to the coast to pick up a consignment of drugs.’

  ‘Coast? You said coast.’

  ‘Did I?’ I thought back to our conversation. ‘Sayed said the drugs are coming in by boat so it must be somewhere on the coast.’

  ‘Probably Kent,’ Hathaway said. ‘There aren’t so many boats around on the east coast and there are any number of inlets in the Thames estuary where they can simply run the boat up into the creeks and unload. There are plenty of lonely anchorages around there.’

  ‘You can’t stake them all out, so we’ll have to go with whatever Sayed is able to tell us.’ I hoped he would remember that he still needed my help.

  I thought it was finally time I turned off, so I made myself a gin and tonic and took it up on deck and relaxed by watching the river’s events, which was better than most soap operas. I’d heard that the owner might be planning to come back, so I wasn’t going to have much more time to enjoy this privileged position in the heart of the city.

  As I clinked the ice around in my glass I thought back to the trail of the counterfeit drugs – the scale of it was industrial and everything Ken and Brent had told me made sense. Fakes administered as the real thing must have been causing countless fatalities.

  As I looked out on the river, I could see a lifeboat rush by with its blue light flashing. Until recently it hadn’t occurred to many people that a rescue service was needed on the Thames but since establishing it a couple of decades earlier, it had turned into the country’s busiest.

  ‘Visitor!’ My thoughts were interrupted by my neighbour shouting across from his boat. He obviously didn’t seem to understand that I was perfectly able to see my visitors myself and thought he should act as a sort of early warning. Of course that was being charitable – the truth was that he was simply nosy.

  I stood up and watched as Greta came along the pontoon. She stopped and waved and once again I admired the light in her golden hair. Let my neighbour watch, I thought, let him be jealous.

  I made Greta a drink and took her back up on deck to watch the evening display. There was something about the river at this time in the evening that was quite magical – a circus couldn’t have put on a better show. There was even a tourist boat called Duck Tours which seemed to me to involve the dangers of a high-wire act but transposed to a few inches above the fast running tide. They boasted that they hadn’t lost anyone yet, but it seemed only a matter of time. We didn’t say much as we watched the show around us, but eventually I stood up and suggested dinner and Greta followed me down to the saloon. I’d made an effort with the new lighting I’d installed and had to agree with myself that it was looking pretty inviting.

  I sat Greta at the table and brought her some olives that I’d left marinating.

  ‘These are good,’ she said, helping herself to more. ‘Sally really lost out when you two split up. She’s cooked for me a couple of times and she’s really not very good at it – not that I told her so, of course.’

  ‘You didn’t need to. Sally is well aware of her limitations, though I hope she finds someone else soon.’

  ‘She works too hard,’ Greta said. ‘After you separated, I think she married her work. A bit like you.’

  ‘Perhaps I do get a bit obsessed. But I’m not giving up. I can’t help thinking there’s a simple solution to this and that it was in front of me, but somehow, I missed it. I’ll have to go and sit in a darkened room until it comes to me.’

  ‘Not before you’ve cooked me dinner. Perhaps we can think about darkened rooms a
fterwards?’

  I glanced across at Greta and thought I saw faint signs of blushing, but I let it go – there was no point rushing these things. I stood up. ‘I can take a hint. I’ll start cooking. Most of it is already prepared so it shouldn’t take long.’

  First, I retrieved the Meursault from the fridge and poured out a glass and took it to her. ‘We don’t normally stretch to white Burgundies but this should be good.’

  She took the glass and sipped. ‘It is good,’ she said and sat down. ‘Have you discovered where the fakes are coming from yet?’

  ‘Not yet, but I will. When you first asked me to help I didn’t realise it would uncover anything like this.’

  ‘So what’s going to happen about the vaccination programme Sally talked about?’

  ‘The SIS people seem to have taken it over and told me they don’t need me anymore, but I hope I’m going to find my way back in again. When they said goodbye to me, they clearly didn’t mean au revoir.’

  ‘But you’re still going to see it through?’

  ‘I always need to see everything through.’ I turned off the gas and laid out the plates. ‘Dinner’s served,’ I said and we sat down facing each other.

  ‘Tell me about your travels.’

  ‘I did manage to get myself locked up for a while.’ I couldn’t see any harm in injecting a little drama into my travels.

  ‘What happened?’ I could see that Greta wasn’t quite sure whether to believe me or not.

  ‘After being tied up in wrapping tape, I managed to escape by posting myself through a nearby letter box.’ As I said it I could see that Greta didn’t really appreciate such flippancy. ‘The partner I was with rescued me so it was all very unheroic,’ I added dismissively, which was true but didn’t exactly show me in the light that I would have preferred. I told her a bit about No-Fingers which went some way to restoring my image, but I had to admit it hadn’t been my finest hour and I was still no nearer to tracking the source of the counterfeits.