Resident Fear

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Resident Fear Page 8

by Hylton Smith


  “Are we ready to roll out the sponsorship yet?” Graham was first to respond.

  “Pretty much, we have to decide the order and when to start. The locals have been primed. Anyway, my friend has more detail on that, here he is.” Beresford adhered to speaking in generalities.

  “What is the weather like in the northeast at the moment?” Finley gave an account which roughly approximated to the new setup installed by Nigel Bradstock.

  “The stormy winds are beginning to blow themselves out. The outlook is quite promising. Might be worth a trip sometime soon, it would be good to meet again. If you decide to visit just let me know. Alternatively, I could make it to the Capital if you prefer, there’s quite a bit of work to do there.”

  “I see. You know the northeast sounds appealing, and I’m sure my good lady would like to catch up with relatives in the region. Let’s go for it. Please make the arrangements and let me know when it would be best for us to call on you.”

  Having put the phone down, Finley said to Graham, “Ok, we start in Newcastle, and leave London alone for now. It would make sense for me to go north and you keep an eye on this cock-up in the smoke.”

  Finley then contacted Paul Grimes and informed him of his impending travel arrangements. “You can pay the initial deposit.”

  Grimes had a reputation to fear, as he was a baton-carrier for the northeast region of the Colony. His various foot soldiers were to be made ready for an operation to be known as Enigma. It was to begin to coincide with Beresford’s landfall in the UK, at a location which he would not share with anyone at present. Not even his wife was to be told until he felt it prudent to do so. What she did not know she could not repeat. It was a risky business, but the risk of not making personal contact with his daughter at this time was considered to be foolhardy. He planned to set off at first light.

  Chapter 9

  Friday November 9th 2018

  Forster switched on the recorder and began the interview with a request for Purdil Pitafi to recount his timeline and detail of the Alfa Romeo’s recent exploits. With Adams in the interview, Stephanie was able to observe, but critically look for discrepancies compared to what he had told her. All was going to plan when Pitafi suddenly stopped in mid-sentence.

  “When I was asked to come here today I mentioned that it was not really convenient. You then said, well not actually you, it was D.C. Baker who convinced me it was important because some new information had come to hand. Why are we just talking about the same things again?” Forster and Adams cast a glance at each other and then the former asked Pitafi if D.C. Baker had mentioned anything about the nature of the new information. When he shook his head Stephanie visibly relaxed behind the one way screen. However, she knew this was not the end of the matter and was annoyed with herself for the indiscretion, which was merely to convince Pitafi to change his schedule. The solicitor continued.

  “No, I assumed it had to do with explaining what had happened to my car and who might be involved. Is that not the case?”

  “Not really,” said Forster, “it is more to do with its possible connection to the killing of Alistair Banks.”

  Pitafi’s mind raced and he sat back, folded his arms and invited Forster to continue. When that turned into a direct question regarding Pitafi’s whereabouts on late Sunday evening and the early hours of Monday morning, the atmosphere changed quickly. Pitafi asked why he had not been asked if he wanted legal representation if the interview was to be directed to the murder rather than a stolen vehicle.

  “Although I am a solicitor, I should be given such a choice. This has nothing to do with me having anything to hide. I will answer your questions when you follow procedure. Until then I am happy to talk about the car in the context of its theft. However, as I told D.C. Baker, I do have a very busy schedule every Friday and I cannot stay much longer without prejudice to my clients’ welfare. What do you suggest?”

  Forster was livid at having his planned interview sequence disrupted in this way. He had wanted to make Pitafi comfortable, before suddenly revealing the matching fibre samples. He was a great believer in such focussed study of body language. Stephanie knew she was in trouble. Adams considered the predicament to be one of serendipity. Forster held back the fibre data. His reasoning was that it was not wise to allow such information to be passed to a subject, who as yet had no other concrete link to the murder. It would be better left until they had a firm suspect. When Pitafi had concluded his re-run of the missing car, he was thanked and politely escorted to the exit, having been told that the car was still of interest to forensics and he would be contacted when that status changed.

  *

  There was a spanner in the works in London. Gertrude Baumann had declined to travel to the UK to identify the body. It was portrayed by the German press as emotional concern for her daughter. Baumann’s parents had accepted the responsibility and had declared that it was definitely not their son. They broke down with the consequent rush of relief. When they were asked to take a second look they said it was not necessary. The body had taken more beating around the face than that of Banks, and was considerably disfigured. Alfred Baumann shook his head.

  “It is not Heinrich, even allowing for the bruising and discolouration, the eyes are wrong, the jawbone is nothing like that of my son, and if you need further proof you should check his dental records in Newcastle or Germany. However, I can save you some time, Heinrich has a small birthmark behind his right ear; this poor person does not. Now we have to find our son, and perhaps we have to speak again to Gertrude, because she insists that Heinrich took the flight with her, but disappeared while she and our granddaughter were waiting for the luggage. She thought he had gone to the toilet, but when he returned he said the two of them were to proceed to her parents’ home in Bonn. He claimed that he had received a message from Mr Banks, who apologised for missing the flight, and asked Heinrich to do him a favour. He was to take the information he was carrying to a hotel in Cologne, and then he would join her in Bonn later that evening. He never showed up.”

  When Forster was informed of this, he had to contact Bradstock. They accepted that this skewed the focus back to Newcastle, especially if the dental records of the London corpse ruled out Baumann. They decided it would be better to go this route than open up further links with Germany. It was a case of a missing person abroad and two murders in the UK. Looking for Baumann was appropriately in the ball court of Germany, as that is where the evidence said he had gone missing. He was of interest to the Banks enquiry, as and when he was found. Bradstock ended the call by ratifying this was to be Forster’s direction.

  “I want to see this followed to the letter, until I hear something from Interpol, is that clear?” Forster affirmed that it was crystal clear.

  *

  On hearing Greg Watson’s version of this mystery body, Renton was relishing the chance to look Forster in the eyes. The union had taken up his case. It was simply based on his exemplary record and the absence of either a verbal or written warning prior to suspension. The further implication was that it could hinder any future promotion prospects. This had been set out in a letter and sent to Bernard Cousins. Predictably, Cousins wanted to avoid problems coming his way just because he had slavishly followed Bradstock’s orders. He wanted to smooth the path and had let Forster know that he was in the firing line by default. They had contacted Renton and suggested an ‘unofficial chat’. The union was not happy about this and reminded Renton that he would be in breach of the suspension if he entered the station. After a number of calls to his mobile from Forster, he agreed to ‘bump into him’ in Eldon Square shopping mall. While browsing in a newspaper booth, they agreed to meet up in a nearby coffee shop. Renton waited patiently for Forster to begin.

  “I’ve had reason to discipline D.C. Baker, it’s not too serious, but she wanted to get something off her chest. I think she was worried that it may have come out anyway. I know she made the call to Cologne without your knowledge or approval. It
does throw a different light on the situation.”

  “In what way do you think it changes my view of my suspension? If she’d told me of her intent, I may have sought authorisation, told her to go ahead, or just blocked it.”

  “I know all that, but when she told you of the call, you didn’t reprimand her or pass the request up the line. Listen Jack, I don’t like the position I have been put in either. I don’t want to be here at all, never mind having indirect influence on a fellow officer’s career. I even have trouble with the direct orders I have been given. I didn’t want Cousins here and I sincerely believe that Baker’s confession to me can bring all this to an end. We can both be angry at Bradstock for his premature action, but do you seriously think he is doing this on his own? I’d like to speak with him following Stephanie’s admission, and correct any action which was taken on the basis of false assumptions. That is, unless I am making another false assumption – that you are still interested in the case.”

  Renton was at a crossroads. Forster had not mentioned anything about the body ID in London. It would be a pertinent litmus test of his veracity if he could get him to open up about it.

  “When you assume that I’m still interested in the case you are correct, but that would count for nothing if it gets transferred. We both know that there is nervousness at the top about it prejudicing something which is presumably ‘of greater importance’. I don’t give a shit about that. Until the police code says in black and white that a murder must be kicked upstairs and cleared of political fallout before it is investigated, I will do my job. If ever such an edict appears, I will quit. Another thing we both know is that this is a game, maybe a dangerous one, nevertheless a game.”

  “We all break rules and this meeting is a perfect example. Here’s another one. The body in London is not Baumann. So if he is still alive, he has to be of interest to the Germans as a missing person. That needs to be progressed first. However, he must be tied into Banks’ death in some way, and London has to find out the name of the dead person who was carrying some of Baumann’s identity paraphernalia. It’s not rocket science Jack, concentrate on Banks and if there is anything which takes you into the mist of conspiracy, check it out with Bradstock. Bernard Cousins is only an irrelevant conduit, because he is a career-massaging box-checker. If I can persuade you to speak directly to Bradstock, I’m sure we can wipe all slates clean. Think about it and let me know.”

  As Renton was now even more convinced that the link between Banks’ business, Germany and the missing briefcase would ultimately reveal the reason for the killings, and therefore the killer, he was inclined to accept what Forster was offering. In reality there had been two errors of judgement. The first was down to him and the second was a direct, if hurried consequence. However, he wanted another shot at Doyle before he had to toe the line.

  “I’ll sleep on what you’ve said and call you.”

  *

  Lawrence Morton did not have long to wait to receive more potentially bad news. The two gurus from Intelligence had spent most of the night with Chen and his theory. By now they had conveyed the names ‘Cannon & Ball’ to themselves. This was quite a normal procedure for their department when working outside their normal habitat. Cannon was the spokesman and Ball was clearly the anorak.

  “To summarise, we concur with Chen,” said Cannon, “the fragments which gave him the clues to identify and eliminate only the added strings of code have restored them to the original structure and consequent reappearance. They are non-contentious bundles of information, which we would describe as padding. These clues only demonstrate the fact that what has occurred is reversible. I am afraid that even with the help of Chen we have not been able to restore any other fragments than those we believe we were intended to discover. It may well be a long time before you have your database back. We would also endorse Wah Chen as being capable of working on his own to look for further clues. You could of course ask our superior for a more prolonged secondment of agent Ball, to assist Chen, but I think that would require additional justification – that being catch 22 - the risk of not doing so. We haven’t been able to find any trace of exportation of data, and therefore conclude at this stage that it is simply a loss of access rather than loss or theft of data. What would you like me to do?”

  Morton tried to visualise what the P.M. would make of this. He thought it was worth the gamble to be bullish about when the data would be recovered rather than if it would ever reappear. Alloying this to the recent civil unrest over the content, it could be counted as fortuitous breathing space. A technical glitch was preferable to porosity, if it was subject to attempted infiltration, but only if the data was recovered. He mentally flipped a coin and hitched his wagon to the ingenuity of Wah Chen.

  Chapter 10

  Richard Doyle was reluctant to have any more discussion about the case, but Renton offered him a choice.

  “Unless I can get a better understanding of the finer points of the business transfer from you, I’ll be forced to employ an expert, who has nothing to lose by conducting an x-ray of the text, whereas I’m convinced that you have rather a lot to lose. I’m not talking purely of the fear factor you’ve painted regarding your involvement. If this is valid you should be rightly concerned. If I have to dig into this myself and inform the Inland Revenue of any irregularities I find, then surely that’s worse. It would have to become public, and that’s bad for both of us. You’re in the crosshairs, and I’ll have been forced to prematurely tip off the perpetrators that we’re on to them. Mr Doyle, in order for you to risk your life in sculpturing this merger, you must be expecting obscene financial reward in return. You don’t strike me as a heroic philanthropist, and now you appear to have lost your means of remuneration into the bargain. I can see that if you feel the deal is no longer possible, that would placate the heavy squad, and the worst aspect is that you did it all for nothing. However, if these people are as dangerous as you seem to think, it strikes me that they would want to erase the deal and its protagonists – all of them. You need to be careful. If you’re sure you don’t want to talk to me I’ll begin my search for an expert I can trust.” Doyle was shaking so much his coffee cup rattled against the saucer. He wearily unlocked his safe and retrieved a computer memory stick.

  “Very well Inspector, whatever you have read in the transfer deed and its highly complex ‘legalese’ wording, what is on this stick is what was actually going to happen.”

  The screen flashed up a kind of ‘tree of life’, in reality it was a simple flow chart of asset movement and checkpoints. An independent consultant had ascribed net worth to both companies. Bio-Cure was set at £176 million and Bio-Synth GMBH at £65 million. The share structure going forward represented a dilution of Alistair Banks’ personal shareholding percentage with the new denominator of £241 million. Unlike the actual deed this flow chart indicated the number of shares Banks was selling to purchase shares in the new entity. The ratio seemed about right. There was then a note and calculation referring to a different tranche of shares to which he would be entitled once all transactions had been cleared by the tax authorities of both countries. These shares had the tag of ‘Extraordinary stock’ which could be later converted to Voting shares at a fixed ratio, or taken out as cash on a predefined schedule as long as the profit targets were achieved. The sum of £65 million provided by Banks was to underpin all of this. Renton shook his head and said, “Start talking.”

  Doyle began filling in the blanks. “The German business model is different from our own in certain ways. They try to offer stimulus, especially to entrepreneurial enterprises, by tax breaks. If you have been resident in Germany and have owned shares for six months or more, and you are assessed by their Finzamt (Tax Department) when you sell those shares, there is no liability for capital gain on the transaction. If you have been resident there and owned the shares for less than six months there is a liability for capital gains tax. Our system is not so forgiving. If you sell shares the exchequer holds you
responsible for the full capital gain in perpetuity. The Germans believe this discourages investors. Alistair was prepared to take some of the liability in his German residence immediately, as this reflected only the gain from his original capital, and was in cash. With a little bit of creative accounting, it became a fraction of what he was about to receive in these Extraordinary shares, even at the knock-down price. After the deal had gone through and been audited, he was to exercise the purchase option for those shares, and the £65 million deposit already made, was part of that purchase agreement. In reality he was able to leverage much more value this way. Bio-Synth GMBH knew they were going to be shut out of future markets by Alistair’s strategy, and decided to join forces rather than diversify or wither on the vine. Effectively, Alistair was going to have a controlling interest rather than what on the surface looked like a minority shareholding in the new company – Bio-Gene.”

  “And your payoff?”

  “It was agreed in a side letter that I would be remunerated on a percentage basis with a sliding bonus depending on the degree of smoothness with which the deal passed through scrutiny.”

  “So, a small fortune then.”

  “I believe it is called supply and demand Inspector.”

 

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