Resident Fear

by Hylton Smith

  Renton had listened intently to this précis, and asked where Bowman’s former company fitted into the story.

  “Well, apart from Harry working for Bio-Synth GMBH, Alistair sourced intermediates from them and that is how we met, at the DRUPA exhibition. That company has also steered its strategic position to similar products, and the advantages of cooperation made both companies stronger. The prospect of closer ties was a no-brainer in technical terms, but that does not always make it happen. I know nothing of how the proposed merger was to be structured, other than Alistair was persistently and openly courted by the Germans. This is the point at which an already strained relationship with Beresford became intensely hostile. Personally, I never quite saw Alistair as someone who would allow prying eyes into his business, and it would be painful for him to accept that it was mandatory for a merger. His company was in a stronger position to dictate the terms, even if they could not pull off an outright buyout of Bio-Synth. Something changed his habit of a lifetime in settling for compromise. And there you have it Inspector.”

  Renton was intrigued by this tale and needed to speak with Adams again.

  *

  Adams was getting Forster’s message across to the group during the daily briefing. Forster was impressed with the methodology of Adams, whose continual reinforcement of the best way to help the boss was to nail down the Banks case with hard evidence. When the session broke up, Stephanie told Adams of her chat with Purdil Pitafi.

  “His account of what happened to the car was feasible, and his problems with the Muslim Shield are well-documented, I’ve checked that out, but there is something just a bit too neat about it all. Maybe you should speak with him and see if he departs from the script.”

  “Steph, didn’t you hear anything I’ve just preached on behalf of Forster? He is not going to mess about with maintaining motivation in this department. He’s temporary and doesn’t care about that; he’ll be ruthless. Now do we have the car?”

  “Yes he brought it in this morning.”

  “He brought it in, why didn’t we go and get it?”

  “He had already driven it off the street into his garage, so it didn’t seem worth sending a recovery truck if he’d already driven it since its return, and we got it quicker.”

  “Jesus Christ, this is exactly the kind of departure from procedure Forster will pounce on. You should have at least cleared it with Clive Donoghue. Let’s wait for forensics to tell us what they find before speculating on Pitafi.” She walked off wearing a mildly insolent expression.

  *

  The Home Secretary was ready to brief his recruits from Intelligence. One of them asked why this database was with the home office.

  “From what we have been told we would have thought this collection of medical information would reside with the Health Secretary.”

  They were informed that it had done, originally. “They did the tests, assembled the data, and then they reclassified it for their own purposes and recommendations. It was only when these recommendations surfaced that the leaks found their way into the media, and they embroidered a Frankenstein scenario from their well-orchestrated conspiracy theories. The NHS has to be transparent in these situations and that renders it extremely porous by default. It was therefore thought to be prudent to have a safer pair of hands, which has proven to be a ‘dropped catch’. The decision to pull it from the Health Secretary was distilled down to only two main options, us or Defence. It was felt to be a little bit over the top to lodge it with the Defence Secretary, so I got lumbered.”

  “We can understand the concern, and in fact that is the reason for the question. Why was Intelligence not considered in the first place?”

  “I can only say that it was for the same reasons as ruling out Defence. It was a political decision. We did not want to fuel the public reaction any further, by implying that the fate of the realm was at stake. Homeland security seemed to make sense, it was considered to be less porous than the Health service and not as clandestine as either Defence or Intelligence. Nobody thought this would happen.”

  “Right, let us proceed to how we see the mechanics of our involvement playing out. We need to familiarise ourselves with the system without Mr Chen’s input, then we will need to spend a lot of time with him out of hours, when there is nobody else around. If we believe there is substance to his theory we will need to discuss the next steps with you alone. Is this acceptable to you?” Morton affirmed that it was perfectly acceptable as he just wanted to save his career.

  *

  Greg Watson spoke to Adams on the phone. It was an official call.

  “Sergeant, I’ve been informed that the person they assume is Bowman died much later than Banks. So, at least for now we can’t be sure how the latter got to Newcastle, and whether he was killed in the Capital, on the way, or after arriving. This is because we have not been able to account fully for his whereabouts since shortly after the football match. They are apparently asking for someone to identify this body in London. Several candidates could do it, if it’s him, but the only relatives that they know of are his wife and his parents, all of whom are in Deutschland. The other three friends at the match could corroborate positive ID, but they must first get the family over from Germany. So the Banks case would still appear to be open at this end. As I haven’t been visited yet by the new Gruppen-Fuhrer Forster, I am reporting this to you in the absence of D.C.I Renton, and shall do so until informed to the contrary. The second point is equally intriguing. The images of the asbestos and glass embedded in Banks’ head are a perfect match to the debris in the derelict mental hospital. It seems as if both of the deceased were there at some time, either alive or dead. Donoghue told me this so you can discuss it with him without upsetting the Reich.”

  Adams couldn’t resist a smile and thanked Watson. He headed off to see Clive Donoghue. The forensics team was like a group of ants, wielding ultra-violet torches, marking points of interest inside and outside the car, and taking photographs of the entire process. It was as if they were about to decide on the best way to devour the vehicle. Donoghue stepped back from this busy but controlled activity, and came to meet Adams.

  “Let’s go to my office.” When they arrived he poured two mugs of strong, black coffee and gently began swivelling in his chair.

  “I suppose you have spoken to Greg, but before we get to that, I can tell you already that the blue fibres found on Banks match those in the luggage space of the Alfa Romeo, it is hardly big enough to be called a boot. I wanted to do this first, because it now justifies a much deeper trawl for other evidence. Greg will be here shortly because he thinks this very small space may explain why the corpse suffered a broken neck after death. Also, I want to get on with this before your new boss gets too involved.” Adams reflected on this before asking about the body in London.

  “I’m not sure where the combined information on the bodies leaves us; do you have anything to add to the possibility that they may both have been in this abandoned hospital, you know, from what you’ve discovered in the last few days?”

  “It’s a little early to tell, and I only have information my opposite number in London has passed to me. It would make sense for us to meet and exchange all information we have, because we have repeatedly found in this science, it is so easy to miss something.”

  Adams fastened on to this and said, “I don’t think that meeting is going to be approved Clive. When you say it is easy to miss something, how about it also being possible to plant something?”

  “Excuse me, oh I see, well of course that can’t be ruled out, but why do you raise the issue?”

  “Simply because the ‘powers that be’ have planted suspicion in everyone’s mind by the way they have treated Renton. It was opportunistic, we know it, and they know we know it. Figuring out why is the puzzle, and makes me wonder if we are going to be steered to the desired conclusion.”

  “Mmm, yes, well I’m not trained for the maze of conspiracy theory, but what I can say
is that the window of probability of time of death for each of these individuals does raise questions as to whether they knew of one another’s impending demise. The location and condition of this decaying hospital, according to my colleague, is not conducive to anyone finding the second body. Apparently it’s boarded up, plastered with signage warning of danger of asbestos, and hasn’t been patrolled for years. It has a high perimeter fence which also adds to its isolation, although the gates have been breached but never repaired, and it’s therefore not surprising that it was a bunch of kids who found the corpse. They are undergoing scans to see if they are at risk.”

  “That’s interesting, in fact it immediately provokes the thought that Banks was intended to be discovered and this Bowman wasn’t.”

  “Indeed, but how will this train of thought be altered if the second body isn’t Bowman?”

  “That’s a very good point Mr Donoghue. And it would also provoke another question. Who really travelled to Cologne under the name of Baumann? Perhaps that’s what we aren’t supposed to find out, and why Renton was shuffled off the case. Good luck with the car, I may be back soon, but as Forster likes the kind of evidence you have just found, you might be honoured by a visit from the man himself.”

  Adams went out for lunch and rang Renton from the ‘Coffin’ which was the nickname for the refurbished Central Bar on the other side of the Tyne, in Gateshead. It was a short walking distance over the Swing Bridge. He really liked this place, especially the selection of beers and bands they often had lined up. He knew the manager Dave Campbell and his wife Julie quite well; they travelled all over the world to music festivals, and he loved to hear about these adventures.

  “We need to talk about this second body. How do you fancy a bracing, moonlit walk along the beach?” Renton laughed at Adams’ adherence to the clandestine nature of their new relationship.

  “Sounds insane, but yeah why not? Do you have any particular place in mind?”

  “Tynemouth, in the car park, down from the Gibraltar Rock pub, near the Priory, at about 7.30?”

  “Done.”

  “Here’s something to think about in the meantime. Who runs Bio-Cure Industries at the moment? If this deal doesn’t go through, the answer may be nobody! I remember my first discussion with Doyle when he said Vivienne neither had the capability nor the desire to inherit this burden, but if the German bank doesn’t receive the paperwork, then she owns his shares in whatever, as she is the sole nominated beneficiary of his will. So presently, in a legal sense, she may be running the operation. I can’t believe Doyle has not told her about this.”

  “That’s a fascinating scenario Ben. May the moon be bright this evening.”

  Chapter 8

  The Intelligence duo had concluded their initial session with Chen, and had reported to Morton that they concurred with most of what he had suggested.

  “The general assertion that the database has been fragmented and hidden seems valid. What we need to do now is move to the second phase, and let him illustrate the mechanics of such a process, and the claims he makes as to the detailed execution. The process he describes isn’t totally unknown to us, but the work involved in insertion of code and cataloguing it correctly, so that instant recovery can occur, can be a very cumbersome task, if the perpetrator wishes to make it difficult. If one did not want to make it difficult we would have to question the purpose of the exercise in the first place. The concept of adding data to cloak existing code is rather ingenious, but the sheer number of unique strings which have to be accounted for by the recovery programme is awesome, for a database of this size. That’s why it has been fragmented as a first step. Chen knows his stuff. We now have to see a demonstration of how he can attempt to recover one such string, from part of one fragment, which is clearly part of the entire database. Otherwise what we restore could be anything. We will need someone to be able to verify that the phoenix is actually from the genuine ashes. Do you have such a person?”

  Morton was struggling to keep up. “Quite honestly I believe Chen is the best bet. He has worked on the project for some time. He must be able to recognise some of the stuff you recover.”

  “He may be the best bet Mr Morton, but he is not exactly neutral. It would however negate the need for bringing another party into the mix. It is your call.”

  *

  As Adams was preparing to leave to meet Renton, he glanced at the office clock. He wanted to time his departure with that of Forster, so that he could drop the conversation with Donoghue into his lap at the very end of the day. He was surprised when Forster came out of his office with Stephanie.

  “Ah, D.S. Adams, we’ve just been discussing the flowery account that this Purdil Pitafi has given about the magic blue car. It does seem to me that we should pull him in and explore this head-butting situation he claims to have with the Muslim Shield. I’d like to hear this first hand, and suggest you attend as well. D.C. Baker can observe through the glass, as she did the first interview. Let’s schedule it for tomorrow.”

  Adams shot a glance at Stephanie, whose coy expression did nothing to suppress his anger at her total disregard for his instructions. He was thinking quickly and replied without a pause in the conversation.

  “Yes Sir, that’s fine and actually it may dovetail nicely with Clive Donoghue’s cursory sweep of the vehicle. The blue fibres on Banks are a perfect match with the boot carpet in Pitafi’s car. So maybe he does have more to explain than he already has. It’ll be interesting to see how much this ruffles him. The car being at the scene isn’t quite the same as it having been used to transport the body.”

  He had difficulty in sustaining the false enthusiasm, unlike those he addressed. Forster sported a sickly grin while Stephanie was preening unashamedly. He decided not to mention that Donoghue had also found the same glass and asbestos on both bodies.

  *

  When Ben Adams arrived at the meeting point, the vision of Renton kitted out in Arctic survival clothing caused him to stifle a grin. It was just as well he did, as within two minutes of descending on to the beach he had to admit he was underprepared for the plummeting temperature and rising winds. They continued to walk towards Whitley Bay while Renton was brought up to date, and then Adams conceded that he was heading for hypothermia. Renton sarcastically offered the over-jacket he was wearing.

  “You mean you have two of those thermals, it is a bit late for that now, let’s go inside.”

  “Do you want a beer or a snifter of brandy?”

  “No way, I need some sustenance which will also defrost me - fish and chips would fit the bill.”

  They came off the beach and raced one another to the brightly lit cafeteria, and grabbed a table next to a radiator. Having smothered the generous platter with salt, pepper and vinegar, Adams began gorging on the ‘fresh from the fryer’ battered cod and chips. The obligatory mushy peas were ignored while he shovelled several chips past his numbed lips and on their way to his biological central heating boiler. Renton’s more deliberate consumption allowed him to comment on the update just delivered by Adams.

  “You know Ben we can’t seem to get away from the feeling that despite the two killings being surrounded by possible links, something is still being orchestrated. This disappearing and reappearing car is a prime example. The one thing which could explain everything is the damned briefcase.”

  Adams had a new glow. “The car situation is bugging me for another reason boss, I specifically told Stephanie to cool it with respect to speculation. Forster is just waiting for another one of us to step out of his halo so that he can inflict further disciplinary procedures upon us. What does she do? Goes sucking up to him and spits in my face at the same time. He went for her suggestion, but she had nothing to back up her hunch, and my reflex action was to declare Donoghue’s revelation, to at least have proper cause to bring him in again. She’s beginning to worry me.”

  Renton nodded in agreement and told Adams of her phone call to Cologne.

  “N
o way, look, we can’t afford to let this slide boss, if I’d known that earlier I would have kept certain things from her. I know she’s good, and mighty ambitious, but we’re all going to be judged by this kind of opportunism. I hope you aren’t going to ask me to pretend to her that I don’t know.” Renton merely said that if that was what he wanted he would never have let the cat out of the bag.

  “You make a fair point Ben. My initial response to protect her was because I was sure she would have got more than a suspension. Things have moved on and so must we. You’re right to deal with it. Now what are we going to do next? I guess we have to wait for positive ID of Bowman, Pitafi’s denial, or explanation of the fibres, and what Forster’s next move is. I am betting on him pushing the Pitafi connection for all it’s worth. If nothing else it buys time as a distraction. Pitafi’s story so far is too preposterous to be untrue, and Forster should know that. I’m intrigued by your comment that if Bowman failed to deliver the goods, Vivienne is now in charge. I’m going to see Doyle again. This bastard is up to his neck in this, and he doesn’t strike me as a guy who puts himself on the line for free.”

  *

  Beresford referred to his sea transport as a yacht, an image which most people associated with blissful harnessing of tropical winds, a kind of barometer of decadence. However, the power button transformed the elegant craft into a very efficient means of island or even country-hopping. He was now moored in Portugal, in the western Algarve marina of Lagos. During a pause between courses in the Belgian restaurant, he asked his wife to excuse him while he made the obligatory phone call. Marlene Beresford yearned for a normal life. She had often told Vivienne to be careful what she wished for. She had always believed the celebrity lifestyle would be an intoxicating cocktail of material and spiritual wellbeing. After years of such seemingly pointless running from invisible or imaginary enemies, she craved simple family life. No matter how many times she raised the issue, her husband simply shut off any hope. Beresford used the payphone outside the Brasserie to speak to Seth Graham and Eddie Finley.