The Maggie Bainbridge Box Set

by Rob Wyllie

  'It's all over for you now pal. Frank, get over here and take this bastard out of my sight.'

  He gave him a thumbs-up, 'I'll take it from here bruv.' He grabbed Priest by the arm. 'We can make this as easy or as difficult as you want sir, it's up to you, but it would be best to avoid handcuffs, don't you think? Not a good look for the cameras.' Broken, Priest could only nod his silent consent.

  They had been joined by Chief Superintendent Jennifer Clarke who had emerged from undercover deployment amongst the journalists.

  'Who are you exactly?' she asked, looking puzzled.

  'DI Frank Stewart ma'am. I'm working the Cathedral Close murders.'

  'And is all of this true? Is Priest really that terrorist's father?'

  'We think so ma'am, almost certainly. That's what it was all about. He was desperate for her to be freed.'

  'And all these murders? Was he responsible for them too?'

  'Aye, we're pretty sure he was. He didn't carry out the killings himself of course, but we're certain he ordered them. Iranians, we think, revolutionary guards. We caught one of them up in Blackburn and he should help us track the rest of them down. But we can work out the exact charges when we get him to the station.'

  'Understood Inspector, and very good work here.' She barked an order to a uniformed officer. 'Get the media out of here and lock down this room. This is now a crime scene.'

  Now only Fadwa Ziadeh and her son remained in the room, sharing some private joke, calm and unmoved despite the turmoil of the last few minutes. Safe in the knowledge that they were immune from prosecution because of their diplomatic status, and probably smart enough not have taken any active role in the crime. Conspirators undoubtedly, but participants probably not. Clever bastards.

  'So you're Maggie Brooks?' she said, her voice laden with venom. 'I was so hoping to get to meet you. Philip told me so much about you during his little trips to my country. Pillow talk, that's what they call it, don't they? He was a very good lover. So caring and considerate. You were very lucky to have had him for a few years. Although in the end I think he found you, well, just a little dull.'

  Maggie found it easy to ignore the provocation.

  'Where is Dena?'

  'My beautiful but stupid daughter? Her name is Hasema and I assume she is still in Cairo at the moment, or perhaps she is already on her way back to Gaza. She flew out yesterday on her brother's passport you see, on your excellent British Airways, business class naturally. An easy disguise. My children, they look so alike, of course.' Maggie knew from Dr Tariq Khan that the border force scanners would have been unable to tell the difference between the twins. They were still running three-point-one.

  'Do you really care about Palestine, that's what I want to know. Because to me, it looks just a big game to you, a bloody lifestyle choice. So where is it next for you Fadwa? Gstaad, Davoz, Rio, after we have you deported of course.'

  She smiled. 'Stockholm actually. So nice in midsummer, don't you think? But you're wrong Maggie, I do care, I care very much. And one day we will achieve our destiny and have our homeland returned to us, but it won't be through killings and hatred. That way is the fool’s way.' It was said with such passion and conviction that Maggie could not help but believe it.

  'So you must be so disappointed in Hasema. All that hate and anger in such a beautiful young woman.'

  'I'm afraid Hasema is young and foolish, and was so easily led astray by her stupid grandfather and his cynical Iranian supporters. She has her father's blood you see, and we all know what a fool he is. But I love her of course, and Julian loves her too and so she had to be rescued. And dear Philip, he arranged it all so beautifully. He played you Maggie, just like he said he would.'

  She was conscious of Jimmy's presence, his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close to him. He kissed her gently on her forehead. Perhaps it was only a platonic brotherly kiss, but she didn't care. It was still nice.

  'Don't rise to it Maggie, she's not worth it. You have only good things to look forward to now.'

  And it was true, there could be no doubt. Perhaps her reputation could be restored and she might be able to go back to the Bar - but did she still want all of that now? Because the truth was, she had enjoyed the last few weeks more than she could have ever imagined, and the thought of not having Jimmy and Frank Stewart in her life already seemed impossible. And Asvina was already talking about another case, some famous soap-star who had tired of her husband. But now it was too soon, too raw to make these kind of decisions. Now she must concentrate on the one thing that mattered above all others. Soon she would have Ollie back with her and everything would be wonderful again.

  ◆◆◆

  'Eighty-eight quid for a steak, and it doesn't even come with chips? Ridiculous.'

  This time they had rejected Frank's favourite Shoreditch pub in favour of a lunchtime table for three at the rather more upmarket Ship just around the corner. A few minutes earlier, a good-looking waiter had reeled off a list of complicated-sounding specials before presenting each with the eye-wateringly expensive menu.

  'It's chateaubriand,' laughed Maggie, 'and it's for two. And besides, I'm paying, so you don't need to worry about the price.'

  Jimmy adopted a tone of mock concern. 'Oh dear, I've had a look, and they don't seem to have sausage rolls on the menu today mate. Do you want me to choose something for you?'

  'Oh aye, and you're mister sophistication, are you?'

  'Boys, boys, we're here to have a lovely time and to celebrate our great success. Let's not behave like little school boys in the dinner-hall.'

  'Sorry miss,' Jimmy smiled.

  'Aye sorry miss,' Frank said.

  After much discussion, food and wine was finally ordered, accompanied by three very large gin and tonics procured at the insistence of Maggie. Frank dealt with his in just two swigs.

  'All right then, you two smart-arse private dicks. I want to know the full story from the beginning, sparing no detail.' He raised his hand to draw the attention of a white-shirted waiter who was just passing. 'Pint of Doom Bar please mate. Right Maggie, sorry, where were we?'

  'I hadn't actually started yet. But I think it all goes back nearly twenty-five years ago to Palestinian Solidarity. That was the pressure group founded by Philip's brother Hugo. It was a deeply fashionable cause back then for any left-leaning politician...'

  'Still is,' Jimmy said.

  'Indeed, and as it is now, it was a great thing to have on your CV when you were trying to make the candidate short-list in one of these fashionable metropolitan seats. That's what attracted the likes of Saddleworth and Priest, and a host of others too who didn't manage to climb the greasy pole and have now slipped into obscurity.'

  'Slipped into obscurity down the greasy pole. Very good Maggie,' Jimmy smiled.

  'Purely accidental, honest.'

  'And that's when Priest and Fadwa hooked up I assume,' Frank said. 'She looks pretty amazing now, so god knows what she looked like in her twenties.'

  'Irresistible by all accounts, and as the daughter of Yasser Ziadeh she was also at the centre of the fight for Palestinian self-determination. Intoxicating for these young idealists.'

  'Or opportunists,' Jimmy said.

  'Exactly. So before long, Fadwa finds herself pregnant and gives birth to twins. She was always headstrong and so she refused to name the father, but there was a lot of speculation at the time that it was Julian Priest. We don't know of course what the subsequent relationship between Priest and Fadwa was like, but we can imagine the likely difficulties just taking into account the geography. And it's hard to think of either of them settling down to cosy domesticity.'

  'So just a shag, not a big love affair then.'

  Maggie gave an amused look. 'Yes, I suppose that's one way of describing it Frank.'

  'But Priest must have kept some contact with his children over the years?' he asked.

  'Yes, he was still quite heavily involved with Palestinian Solidarity, and was a regular visito
r to Gaza. So yes, he did keep in touch. But I don't think he was going to birthday parties and school sports days or anything like that.'

  'So why the hell did he risk everything to get involved in getting Dena freed?' Frank said. 'That seems really dumb to me if he didn't really give a shit about her.'

  'Pretty simple,' Jimmy answered. 'We think that Fadwa threatened to expose him as Dena's father if he didn't cooperate. Can you imagine the storm that would be stirred up if the Prime Minister is exposed as the father of the notorious terrorist?'

  Frank nodded. 'Aye, and so Priest ropes in his old mates to help him out. But why did they agree to help him, that's what I don't quite understand? I would have just told him to bugger off.'

  'We know now from Fadwa that Philip was Priest's fixer. He was given the job of working the whole thing out,' Maggie said. 'That was typical Philip. He would have weighed up that helping Priest would give him some bargaining chips which he could cash in at some unspecified time in the future. And although it's hard to stomach, I was the first piece in the jigsaw. It made sense to have someone he thought he could influence defending the case.'

  'You see Frank, I talked to that Clerk at Maggie's Chambers,' Jimmy said. 'He admitted he'd been paid by Philip to pass the brief to her. Didn't see anything wrong with doing that, he just thought Brooks was trying to help his wife's career.'

  'Yes, at that stage I don't think Philip had any particular plan worked out,' Maggie said. 'But in the back of his mind he knew he could use the Miner's Trust situation to get Saddleworth to do anything he wanted.'

  'So it was blackmail then,' Frank said. 'Or coercion to be exact.'

  'Indeed,' Maggie agreed. 'Gerrard almost certainly knew that Priest was Dena's father, and probably the last thing on earth he wanted was to be caught up in this conspiracy. But Brooks played the Trust scandal card and so he had no choice but to cooperate.'

  Frank shook his head in disbelief. 'So now I suppose the big question was how to get the jury to deliver a not-guilty verdict. The bloody government trying to get a murdering terrorist freed, I mean you couldn't make it up.'

  'Yep Frank, but that's what happened. And then my shit-face husband Philip has the brainwave that engineering a mistrial might be a whole lot easier than trying to convince a jury of Alzahrani's innocence. There had been so much focus on all these failure-to-disclose-evidence scandals that he knew every judge in the land would be hypersensitive to even a hint that it was happening in one of their trials.'

  'That was it,' said Jimmy. 'Now Brooks and Saddleworth had to come up with some scheme to engineer a mistrial and that was not as easy as it looks. I think at first they were hoping for some technicality around Alzahrani's human rights, you know given Philip's background, but I don't think they were getting far.'

  'And then Saddleworth the blackmailer remembered the Khan affair,' said Frank. 'That was a gift right enough.'

  'It was,' agreed Maggie, 'and in fact you uncovered it yourself Frank. The devout Muslim family man cautioned for using rent boys, the affair swept under the carpet because of his importance to national security. Of course, as Home Secretary, the file would have passed through Saddleworth's office. And naturally, Khan is going to do anything to stop his family knowing about his little indiscretions.'

  'So,' said Jimmy, 'Khan looks at the official report and says there's nothing wrong with it, only eighteen percent chance it could have identified the wrong person, what do you expect me to do? Saddleworth says, what we expect you to do is rubbish it, that's what we expect you to do, unless of course you want your sick habit of putting your hands down the pants of young boys splashed all over the papers. Oh, and as it happens, we've been talking to Penelope White of the Chronicle about your story. She would absolutely love to put your photograph on her front page.'

  'That's why she was at the dinner you see,' Maggie added, 'just in case he has a last-minute change of heart. Although I'm not sure Gerrard had told her the full background.'

  'That's right. So of course Khan has no choice. He writes a counter-report that says there's a high percentage chance that the identification was wrong. Scientifically, it's a heap of crap, but it delivers exactly what Saddleworth wants. Because now he is able to go to the CPS and bring up this rather inconvenient difficulty that has emerged just before the start of the trial.'

  'So the CPS were involved in it too?' Frank asked.

  'Yes, but they didn't know about the conspiracy. Elizabeth Rooke their boss is guilty through negligence, that's all. I expect the way it was raised was that Saddleworth says to her something's come up, some mad scientist guy who works for the Home Office has written a report, probably not that serious, but I thought we'd better run it past Cameron, see what he thinks. He knows that the last thing Rooke wants is to delay the trial, which would be a PR nightmare for her department, and so she says, go ahead, not really knowing what she's agreeing to.'

  'So they arrange the dinner,' Frank said.

  Maggie nodded. 'So they arrange the dinner. Right from the start, there's already pressure on Cameron from the CPS to sweep the whole thing under the carpet. Five minutes in, he realises that the geeky Dr Khan will be hopeless if he tries to put him in the witness box.'

  'Yeah, we think that's probably what happened,' Jimmy said. 'So there's a discussion, Khan gives a complicated and confusing pitch, Cameron asks some questions but still can't make head or tail of it. He knows that Rooke just wants it to go away, and so after two or three bottles of rather nice Beaujolais and a call or two, they collectively decide that on balance it's best to leave things as they are.'

  'Aye, I see it,' Frank said. 'Cameron has fallen into a bloody great bear-trap without even knowing it, because now that he's seen the report, the non-disclosure scam is in play. He knows it exists but now he's in on the decision not to use it. That's bloody clever, I've got to say.'

  'Exactly,' Jimmy agreed. 'The trap is set, and the only person left to snare is Maggie.'

  She gave a rueful smile. 'And how easy was that? By some ridiculous coincidence, a report turns up right at the end of the trial that could change everything for me. Too improbable for words of course, and I should have smelt a rat, but I was so bound up in my own dreams of glory. What a stupid idiot I was. And I remember now so clearly how interested Philip suddenly becomes about how the trial is going. Of course, I tell him about the report and surprise-surprise, he casually says, have you thought about using a disclosure angle? Have you thought about disclosure. That's all it took. And I fell for it one hundred percent.'

  'But the judge was told you had got the report much earlier than you actually had it, wasn't she?' Frank said. 'That's why you got reported to the Bar Council. So how did that happen?'

  'That was Philip's doing too. He spoke to Lady Rooke at the CPS. He said that I had told him I'd got it, you know, just as part of casual husband and wife conversation.'

  'Weeks before you actually got it?'

  'Exactly,' she said. 'What a hero he was, don't you think?'

  Frank nodded. 'Aye he was, and bloody evil too. But there's something else I don't get. Why did Cameron have to be killed if he didn't know about the conspiracy?'

  Maggie held up her hands and sighed. 'I'm afraid that was my fault again. Dr Khan told me that Philip panicked when he found out we had that photograph. Within minutes, he'd called everyone up and told them to keep quiet. Of course, Khan and Cameron who are all in the dark say, keep quiet about what?'

  'And that's what signed his death warrant,' Frank said. 'A real tragedy. Priest decided it was too risky for any of them to stay alive and told the Iranian hoods to take care of all of them.'

  'And they murdered that poor young waiter too,' Jimmy said ruefully. 'Presumably they were worried he had overheard something.'

  Maggie nodded. 'Yeah, I know, in some ways that one was the most shocking of all. All Priest's doing, and he was our sodding Prime Minister.'

  Jimmy laughed. 'Aye, but I don't think he'll be running for re-election any
time soon.'

  Frank let out an exaggerated yawn.

  'Well it's all as clear as mud to me. But you know what guys, I say we've had enough talk. I'm already bored stiff with all this Cathedral Close stuff. So how's about another round of these G-and-Ts before our puddings come?'

  'Did someone say something about G-and-Ts? Yes please.'

  Surprised, they spun round to greet the tall willowy figure of Asvina Rani. It was the first time Jimmy had seen her both out from behind a desk and not wearing her glasses, and he could not hide his appreciation of her loveliness. Frank meanwhile was looking at him with a non-too-subtle expression that said 'who the hell is this and how do you know her?'

  'This is Asvina,' Jimmy said, reading his thoughts. 'Our patron. The lady who brought us Saddleworth verses Saddleworth.'

  Maggie had leapt to her feet to envelop her friend in a warm hug. 'Asvina! I didn't expect to see you here. How did you find us?'

  'A very nice girl at your office told me where you were. Elsa I believe her name is.' They noticed she was carrying a crisp white foolscap envelope. Gently, she freed herself from Maggie's embrace and began to wave the envelope above her head. There was an unmistakable air of triumph about her.

  'So then Miss Bainbridge, I happened to be in front of a family court this morning, with magistrate Mrs Evelyn Black presiding. We were there to hear a petition, which I raised on your behalf, that Oliver Jonathon Brooks, aged seven, should be removed from the care of Camden Council Social Services to the care of his mother Mrs Magdalene Jane Brooks. I did not ask you to attend Maggie because quite frankly, and I say this as your best friend, I could not trust you not to get aggressive and not to get emotional and not to say a four-letter swear word, even under your breath, if an official made a statement you did not agree with.'

  Maggie had collapsed back in her seat and now tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Jimmy tilted his head and gave her a thumbs up. 'She knows you, that's all I can say.'