by Hylton Smith
“I don’t have to. I just want to get even with those people who threatened my husband, by denying them the satisfaction of opening the case. I know they will find nothing in there, but that would mean they’ll come after me, now that I’m running the company, even though we’re not moving the business. It would be better for me if they destroyed it by not being able to resist opening it.”
“Are you willing to sentence Harry Bowman to death by your intransigence?”
“Perhaps his intransigence cost Alistair his life. How do I know? Anyway it’s a hypothetical question, because we don’t even know if he’s still alive.”
“That’s true. I have an alternative suggestion. If you give me the documents which you say you have shredded – the merger agreement and the bond, I’ll re-unite them with the Directory. If you also give me the code, I’ll pass it to Jackson, and he passes it on to them. He gets credit for that, but when they find nothing, the police reveal that we impounded Alistair’s reserve case immediately after his death. All you did was help us with the code and you didn’t know what was in that case – it was just a spare. Alistair fooled everyone except the police, and we organised the sting. If we can pull this off, you are in the clear, Jackson is in the clear, and they realise that the information is now devalued. They hate us anyway, so we have nothing to lose. What we have to gain is even the tiniest chance to save Harry. Simple is best, and all we need to do is convince them that we knew this from the start and used it to extract information from them. The beauty is that they will insist on us not being present when they open the case. I have to remind you Vivienne, that the adverse publicity of your arrest for having that Directory before your acquisition is completed will be very unhelpful. You will still have to convince us that you have been blackmailed over the Directory.”
“You have a very persuasive argument Inspector, but it all hinges on me having the merger and bond documents.”
“Yes, I’m just relying on your track record so far. What you need to worry about is what else we may charge you with unless you begin to change your strategy and get it all off your chest. We have little time left to get this maniac who killed your husband and all of the others. Decide now, so I know if I have to ask you to come to the station and read you your rights.”
“You win Inspector Renton.”
“It’s poker, and it will be the same with the Colony. Now what is the code?”
“Left 207, Right 356. Alistair wanted to make sure it was never written down but easily accessed. He told me what it was, but in the event that I forgot, he indicated I should look up the recognised birth date of Alexander the Great on the internet. It was typical of his showy personality; he probably believed he was Alistair the Great. It no longer matters whether you write it down, so go ahead.”
“Thanks, and now the documents.”
She opened the house safe and handed him the negotiating ammunition. He left to convince Jackson before Bradstock and Forster arrived. He saw them as the bigger stumbling block. Without revealing where he got the code he ran through the rest of the plan, and Jackson began to believe he had to weigh up what he had to gain and lose.
“How do they get the code from me?”
“I still have to think that through in detail but I have a plan. However, I need an answer from you before I finesse the handover. You have to decide now or we have to go another route. Our time is running out and so is yours.” He agreed to participate purely because of the personal fear he had of what may happen to him during incarceration. It was all down to Renton’s ability to come up with a credible exchange mechanism, which would also deliver further information on Baumann, or the limousine, if not the driver. He was motivated again.
Chapter 39
Saturday November 24th 2018
Bradstock was reflecting on the return of ‘sitting comfortably’ again, as he picked up the phone. “Good morning Simon, are we done with the credible threat?”
“That is why I am calling Nigel. The operation was a stunning success, and much of that is down to your people. The outcome is a little more difficult to predict.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our top scientist has tested the product and claims it has no such potential to promote Dementia via fluoridated water or any other carrier material he can think of.”
“You can’t be serious. Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“It makes me sick but it’s unfortunately no joke. I suppose the good news is that we have all of these known terrorists in custody in one shot. We picked up the ones who escaped your raids at Dover. So the prosecution will go ahead.”
“You are losing me; on what evidence will they be charged?”
“Exactly what we intended. Our scientist knows how these things work and he will simply rely on our credible evidence of the threat while he works tirelessly on the awesome task of uncovering the chemical cloaking mechanism. If it has taken years to develop it is not surprising that it could take years to detect.”
“But won’t the Iranians know it’s bullshit?”
“Of course, but who will they complain to? They have obtained Banks’ intellectual property through espionage, and we have bona-fide evidence of their claim and intent. They know the rules, just as we do.”
“So why do you think they devised such a hoax?”
“It doesn’t really matter Nigel. We can drive ourselves crazy by trying to work these things out. I guess it comes down to the definition of a credible threat. They scared the living shit out of you, and wider knowledge of the impending disaster could have destabilised the government if it was leaked. It’s a pretty good tactic. And there is always the other possibility that they didn’t devise it at all.”
“You mean it was the work of a double agent?”
“I couldn’t possibly comment. However we can both relax, secure in the knowledge that the government has got what it wants. There will now be a groundswell of public support for the extradition bill, which was previously wallowing in civil unrest. We shouldn’t get too carried away though, because there is always the probability that they will cave in to international pressure to recognise the human rights of these few extremists to remain here and threaten the human rights of our entire population. Enjoy your day.” This did not help Bradstock’s disposition toward the imminent discussion with Forster and Renton. He also pondered how the Mosque victory could be perceived as an example of corruption, if Halliwell-Jones’ prediction was accurate. It was too risky to count toward Sir Nigel.
*
Sam Gibson was disappointed that nothing about Nisha Servil stood out from all of the paperwork provided by the London police. Then he recalled that her sister had said she moved to London in 2010. In fact the records showed she did not arrive in the Capital until late 2011, and it was a temporary job in a supermarket which filled the gap to her being employed by Thames Water two months later. He left abruptly to study the Newcastle hospital records for that period. He rebuked himself for not completing that task first. Meanwhile Stephanie proceeded with a couple of uniform and a forensics technician to the Tyne Bridge lock-up. It was as James Harvey said – a few personal items scattered about, but nothing to get too excited about. And she was wrong about the freezer. At least they could check some of the items for DNA and possible matches in the database. She asked the people in the adjoining unit if they would come to the station to help with an artist’s impression of the tenant. Eventually she persuaded one young man to comply.
*
When Renton floated his idea Forster was enthusiastic and it seemed Bradstock was hovering, but in fact he framed his question as a choice.
“If we go with this plan, my instinct tells me that we should keep it as simple as possible from their point of view. Instead of considering the list of items they can offer us, we should pick one. And I’m in favour of asking for Baumann. There has been consistent protest that the Colony did not kill Banks. If that is true, Baumann may be able to confirm that. It should be of
value to them. If they can’t offer him then we assume he is dead and move to the limousine or driver.” This met with accord from the others, and he continued, “Now Jack, tell us what you have in mind for the transfer of the code.”
“I’ve convinced Jackson to have a sealed envelope and to be displayed on a webcam. They do the same at their end, and we see Baumann. I appear beside Jackson and he opens the envelope. I ask for their agreement to release Baumann if the code successfully opens the case without destroying it. If they agree, I remind them that from that moment, if any harm befalls Baumann, they will be arrested and face the consequences. They know that we would mean going after the people at the top. If they acknowledge this, and know we have recorded evidence of Baumann alive, holding the day’s newspaper, Jackson reveals the numbers. When they switch off their webcam, which they surely will, we’ll have traced the location and send in our positioned units in the Midwest. We won’t have a lot of time but hopefully they will be confused at the case being empty, before realising the sting by Banks. They then have to think about harming Baumann, if there was nothing to profit from, and he’s the only person who can alibi the two thugs. If they refuse to consider trading Baumann in the first instance, and offer limo information we delay the proceedings as long as possible, so that we can get our units to their webcam site before they actually open the case.”
Bradstock saw some rough edges on this scheme, but actually liked the idea of ultimately revealing to the Colony that the sting was only partly due to the ingenuity of Alistair Banks, and that the police knew the case was empty. He didn’t even touch on the security it offered Vivienne Banks and Vic Jackson. They were both criminals – end of story. They called their ‘ambassadors’ in the Midwest and instructed them to put out the feelers.
*
When Stephanie reported back that they had someone helping with an identikit of the lock-up tenant, Renton had a gut feeling that for the first time the net was truly closing. He found his professional pride surging to the fore once more. He wanted to solve this puzzle before it was explained to him. What happened after that was relegated to the back burner. He had taken the call from Sam Gibson to say he had asked for the records department at the hospital in which Younis Khan had worked, to look at the end of 2010 through to the end of 2011.
*
Eva Roberts had made a courtesy appearance to see Bradstock before her flight to Holland, and was busy reinforcing her assertion that the killer would not continue the correspondence with Renton.
“I would expect a different means of drawing attention to this cause, unless the suicide is imminent.” The incident room was busy again and Jack Renton had to ask for quiet when the second call from Sam Gibson was put through. The silence turned to anticipation as he slumped into his chair.
“Jack, I think we may have him. The records people have told me that a very serious complaint was raised against Younis Khan just after Christmas 2010. It was concerning an Isabella Parrish, and was prosecuted by Martin Parrish. It failed, but he went to appeal and that failed as well. Apparently someone at the hospital remembers Khan left after threats were made against him. I spoke to Nisha Servil’s sister again and asked her if Michael, Martin, or Malcolm Parrish meant anything to her. She confirmed that the name of Nisha’s boyfriend was Parrish, but could not be sure of the forename. It has to be him.”
“Don’t get too excited yet Sam, just drive carefully and we’ll bring him in.”
The silence turned into a crescendo of hope. Eva Roberts cancelled her flight. Renton was getting ready to accompany uniform to his house to make the arrest. Stephanie had missed the excitement, but she carried a glimmer of hope from a different source. The identikit was quite a good match for Parrish. Renton punched the air, and told her to get more forensics down to the lock-up. The hope morphed into action and Renton left.
There was no one at Parrish’s address. Renton got on to Cousins and asked him to get a warrant out as he was going to break in, and he put the phone down before there was a response. Two officers broke a window at the rear while Renton and the third uniform levered open the garage door. There was no car but they homed in on a chest freezer. It was the clincher; a headless corpse lay in the foetal position and its brittleness was evident, as a heavy axe was resting against, but being resisted by a finger. Renton called Donoghue and informed him of the discovery. He had temporarily forgotten that most of the forensics staff had gone to the lock-up. “Leave it with me Jack, I’ll sort it out.”
“Good, I’ll leave two officers here, and go looking for Parrish. We have to find him as soon as possible.” He directed the officer to the HQ of Bio-Cure. When they arrived he asked to see Julian Hepworth. He tapped his feet impatiently as Hepworth had to extract himself from a meeting.
“What is it now Inspector?”
“Do you have any idea where I can find Martin Parrish?”
“I can tell you exactly where he is, why do you want to see him? Not another session at the station I hope?”
“No, just tell me where he is.”
“He’s in Germany. It may have to wait until he gets back.”
“What the hell is he doing in Germany?”
“It is the signing ceremony for the acquisition of Bio-Synth. I wanted to go but missed out.”
“Christ, where is Vivienne?”
“She is there as well.” His derisory expression was amplified by his response. “You didn’t think Martin was going to sign the documents did you?”
“Is he in the Mercedes?”
“Yes. Why?”
“She can’t be with him then, if he went on the ferry, because I just spoke to her yesterday afternoon.”
“She flew to Cologne at the crack of dawn this morning. Martin went on the overnight ferry. She wanted him to pick her up and arrive in the appropriate style for the occasion, and he had some awesome Bio-Cure decals made for the limousine.” Renton’s heart sank. “What is wrong Inspector?”
“Nothing, when is the signing supposed to occur?”
“It should be happening right now, I expect she will call me to let me know how it went.”
“Is she flying back?”
“No they’re coming back by ferry.”
“Call her now and tell her to ring me. It’s urgent.”
Her mobile was switched off. When he got through to Bio-Synth reception, Hepworth was told that the ceremony was over and the party had gone to lunch. He then determined that some of the party were already back, so Mrs Banks was probably on her way back to Amsterdam.
“Shit,” said Renton, “leave it for now Julian, I’ll catch her later.” He didn’t want to make Parrish uneasy about anything. He rang the office and asked them to get his passport out of his desk and send someone to the airport with it. When he got to the airport, he found the quickest way to get there was to fly to Cologne via Brussels. However he decided he would be better off travelling to Amsterdam and heading toward the Mercedes. He phoned Bradstock and filled him in on the situation.
“Please get the Dutch police to monitor the whereabouts of the Bio-Cure limousine, and ask for one of their cars to pick me up at Schipol airport.” He also asked Bradstock to retrieve the plate number of the Mercedes from the licensing authority so there was no slip up, in case Parrish had taken the decals off. He was lucky that there were three flights every day from Newcastle to Amsterdam.
Chapter 40
The Dutch police were extremely cooperative and met the plane as it taxied to its stand. Renton was whisked away to the eastbound motorway towards Arnhem. The patrol cars had decided to use the carriageway signs to advise motorists of congestion, and they had spotted the Mercedes with the Bio-Cure logo. Renton asked the Dutch police to allow him to get to them before flagging Parrish down. The Dutch police were armed and he did not want any mistakes. It took just over half an hour to reach the designated intersection, and the Mercedes was down to a crawl. The tension in the incident room was unbearable. As the Amsterdam-bound traffic wa
s filtered into one lane, Parrish was asked to halt. Renton got out of the Dutch police car and walked toward the Mercedes. The armed police took closer order, and Renton could not see Vivienne. “Oh my God,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m too late.”
Parrish got out of the car and smiled. The police closed further and took aim.
“Hello Inspector, you’ve caught up with me, and here of all places. Nevertheless I’m pleased to see you.”
“What have you done with her?”
“Excuse me?” Parrish’s brow furrowed and then he smiled again. “No, no, no Inspector, surely you don’t think I would hurt Vivienne. She is a pillar amongst sandcastles.”
“Just open the boot Martin, nice and slowly.” Parrish smiled again.
“You disappoint me Inspector Renton.” He opened the car boot and it was empty except for two decals which screamed ‘Manor Limousines.’
“I want you to relax Martin and just tell me where she is.”
“I think it’s you who needs to relax Inspector. I know we planned to travel back together, but Vivienne had a last minute thought that she should visit Gertrude Bowman, and tell her that there was a faint hope of her husband being found, following her last conversation with you.”
Renton called Bradstock, gave him the news and asked him to check this out with Cologne before he handcuffed Parrish and brought him back to the ferry. It seemed to take an eternity for the call to be returned. Renton was caught completely off-guard.
“Inspector, it’s Vivienne, there must be some mistake. Martin and Alistair were lifelong friends. It just makes no sense to me. Where is he?”
“He’s here, and it makes no sense to me, but there’s no mistake. I’m going to take him back on the ferry, so I may get a chance to talk to him. He’s very calm, and actually, just as the notes read, he gives the impression of a man whose burden has been removed. I take it you’re flying home tonight.”
“Yes I am. I need to see him when I get back. He owes me an explanation.”
“He owes the world an explanation and I think that Eva Roberts was right, he will now do exactly that.”
Renton and his prisoner were driven back by the Dutch police, and one of their officers drove the Mercedes to the ferry terminal. Hardly a word was exchanged, as neither man wanted to have a third party listening to their conversation. There was also a long wait for the ferry to depart, and lots of curiosity amongst the other passengers. The armed Dutch police officer, having driven the Mercedes to Amsterdam, accompanied them to Newcastle, not for the protection of Renton but for Parrish. Word had got out.