Now, Chillicott was quite certain that foul play was involved, and that Shen Fu Liáng was implicated. He looked for another avenue to progress. ‘You must be very tied up with handling this mess. Is there anyone else there who was working with Leo and knows about what happened here?’
Tom saw his stratagem. ‘He’s very friendly with one of his team, Ed Muire, another Englishman. He’s one of the few people who know about this, and that’s the way we want to keep it. If you can guarantee total discretion, I’ll give you his mobile number.’
‘Thanks, Tom. It’ll go no further than me. Good luck with sorting out your deadline. I’ll call back if I find anything worth reporting.’
After he put the phone down, Connor realised he’d revealed quite a lot, but the general had told him nothing. Why was he trying to get hold of Leo? He was starting to feel out of his depth.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Delmas, Mpumalanga, South Africa
Friday, 9 July 2017
‘I’ll need an address. Good, text it to me on this number. Don’t worry, I’ll sort something out. You’re welcome, Jenny, and tell Emma not to worry.’
The man Jenny had called walked back into his office at Advanced Security Systems (Pty) Ltd, housed in a sprawling farmhouse complex about fifty kilometres north-east of central Johannesburg. There were eight people in the two rooms next door, but only one woman in his office. He sat back in his chair, a worried frown on his face.
‘Bad news?’
‘Certainly unexpected. Very odd business.’
His wife Karen was used to his uncommunicative ways, but she insisted on trying to change him. ‘Come on, Marius, stop being mysterious. Who was it?’
‘A friend from the past, Jenny Bishop.’ Marius Coetzee turned to see the look of surprise on her face. They’d last heard of Jenny five years ago and had never met her face-to-face.
‘Well, well,’ she murmured. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘Briefly, it seems Leo’s in trouble again and she wants me to sort it out.’
‘I don’t believe it! That boy’s really unlucky. What’s happened to him this time?’
As Coetzee repeated what Jenny had told him, their adopted African daughter Abby came into the room. ‘What’s going on?’
He finished his synopsis and Abby gasped with shock. ‘Oh my God! That’s horrible. Poor Leo, he must be mortified, being in a prison on a disgusting charge like that.’
Her mother added, ‘And Emma and Jenny must be frantic with worry.’
‘So you don’t think he’s capable of rape?’
‘Absolutely not,’ they both answered in one breath.
Abby went on, ‘Leo’s probably the coolest and dishiest guy I’ve ever known. Why would he have to rape a girl? This is a stitch-up for sure.’
Coetzee and Karen exchanged glances. ‘OK, Abby,’ he said, ‘thanks for the unbiased sexual assessment, but apparently Leo hardly knows the woman. He met her at a night club last week and now she’s accusing him of rape. Why would she do that if it wasn’t true? Leo could end up in prison for the rest of his life if she doesn’t withdraw it.’
Unknowingly, Karen voiced the same motivations Tom Connor had considered, ‘Normally, I’d say jealousy, revenge and/or just money, but here, I think it has to be money.’
Her daughter nodded her head in agreement. ‘Someone has let her know his aunt Jenny is loaded and she’s indirectly blackmailing her, just like the last time. We can’t let this happen to him after everything he’s been through. Dad, you have to help him.’
Abby was referring to Leo’s abduction in 2010 when, thanks to Coetzee’s change of mind and subsequent intervention, his kidnappers failed in their attempt to take him to Zimbabwe and extort a fortune from Jenny. His reward for saving Leo’s life was to be shot in an assassination attempt by a Zimbabwe gunman, ordered by an anonymous Englishman known to him only as ‘The Voice’. After a month in hospital, Coetzee emerged with just a slight limp to show for the attack, where one of the shots had broken his right hip bone. Of the two remaining bullets in the three-shot, left-to-right pattern, the first smashed his left shoulder and the other was found wedged in the body armour vest he was wearing under his leather jerkin. It was lodged exactly over the position of his heart. After being targeted in two previous visits by the Zimbabwean thugs, Coetzee had decided to take precautions. And he had been right.
A year after those events, Leo had come back for the best holiday of his life, three weeks filled with travel and safari visits, and since then, he and Abby had remained in regular online contact. And although they hadn’t heard from Emma or Jenny for a long time, Marius still felt a debt of honour towards them; if it hadn’t been for his stupidity, Leo wouldn’t have needed to be rescued in the first place.
Coetzee was still in the security business, though he’d been on the verge of bankruptcy at the time of the abduction. While he was recovering from his injuries, his wife managed to sort out his non-existent accounting system and collect enough unpaid bills to keep the company from going under. Six months later, she convinced him to move out of the physical side of the industry and reinvent himself as a computer security specialist.
Karen had been an award-winning journalist before retiring to the countryside, and she was fully aware of the Internet’s effect on the way people and businesses communicated and the potential for damage that could result. ‘It’s the fastest-growing business around today, there’s more than two billion machines in the world and because of the Internet, the number’s increasing exponentially,’ she told him. ‘An industry that’s growing and changing like that needs specific security systems that keep pace with the changes, and they’re in short supply.’
To prove her point, she signed them up with several UK and US companies as SA distributors for pre-packaged security systems, and she was right: it was a great business. This success encouraged them both to enrol for a two-year course at the Joburg Academy of Computer Science and Software Engineering. Six years after taking that decision, they now had a medium-sized, tightly staffed company designing custom-built computer and Internet security systems, which was easily manageable and profitable, and they loved it. Abby had followed in their footsteps, and graduated from the same college earlier in the year with a BSc Hons (IT) degree to become a partner in the flourishing business.
Now, Coetzee said, ‘I’m not so sure about the blackmail angle. I know Jenny’s got lots of cash, but XPC, the Chinese company he works for, has got an awful lot more. She says Leo’s a key player in the launch of some new technology they’ve invented and XPC might be in trouble if they don’t get him back. You’re probably talking zillions of dollars in a case like that. If anybody’s being blackmailed, it’s more likely to be them.’
‘So what are you going to do? We can’t leave Leo in prison thousands of kilometres away from his family when we know he’s innocent. Every day must be sheer hell for him.’
‘You’ll have to book me a flight to Dubai asap and I’ll go talk to the woman, see if I can buy her off. Jenny’s prepared to pay what it takes, and I might have to upset her a bit to get her to agree, but…’
‘That’s what you’re best at, Marius. We know.’
Half an hour later, Coetzee was booked on an Emirates flight from Joburg to Dubai, leaving at eight-fifteen the next morning, arriving, with the four-hour difference, at six-twenty in the evening. He immediately texted Jenny with the flight details.
The family talked over supper about the bizarre situation Leo had got himself into, and later, Coetzee received a thank you text from Jenny with Angela da Souza’s address. Now he was set to go, secretly looking forward to getting to grips with a real-life problem and not some potential scam over the Internet. Coetzee’s reputation had been built on action and reaction. He’d be back where he belonged.
Dubai, United Arab Emirates
‘I don’t believe it! She was all over him at the club, and now she’s claimed he raped her?’ It was Lynne’s evening of
f, and she’d prepared a salad for them at Ed’s apartment. It had been a scorching day and they were sharing a bottle of chilled rosé on the terrace. After her agreement to tell no one about it, Ed had confided Leo’s predicament to her. She remembered Leo’s embarrassment at the café when she made a joke about sucking up to him. ‘He’s definitely not a woman-abuser, he’s absolutely not the type. It can’t be true, she’s been put up to it by someone.’
Ed liked her shrewd Welsh approach, and it was good to know that another woman didn’t subscribe to Leo’s accusation. ‘But why would she do it? She must know he could be locked up ‘til hell freezes over on that charge. And she’s probably ruined his career with XPC, in fact, his career full stop.’
‘We don’t know anything about her, Ed. The other night she was schmoozing with the Belgian woman, I don’t trust her as far as I could throw her. And she’s supposed to be going with that Chinese creep Shen, he’s a bad guy if ever I’ve seen one.’
Ed was trying to come to terms with the situation. ‘You don’t suppose they could be behind this whole fiasco? But that wouldn’t make any sense, it jeopardises the whole XPC launch programme.’
Lynne took a sip of wine. ‘Maybe that’s the point of the whole thing.’
‘You mean someone’s trying to sabotage the launch? That’s a bit far-fetched, you’ve been reading too many whodunnits.’
Her remark resonated in his mind all evening, as he worried the problem to death. There must be something I can do to help Leo, he’d do the same for me. He decided to circumvent Shen and talk to Tom Connor the next morning.
Bur Dubai Police Station
The prison was quieter than during the day, but it still resonated frequently to screams and shouts from the cells around. A would-be rap artist was practising his vocabulary, ignoring the insults and warnings to keep quiet and let people sleep, or else.
Leo’s four cellmates were snoring, and he was sitting on the floor, trying to make sense of the last couple of days. On Wednesday, I fix the upload problem and see Sharif’s test log on the sector 470 cell. Yesterday, I find the network shutdown and call him and Tom. Then, last night Angela phones me, seduces me, accuses me of rape and now I’m in prison. So basically, everything went wrong once everyone knew the system worked and we could meet the launch deadline. He added the other components. Angela’s a friend of Shen, Daniel and Elodie, whoever she is, I don’t know why Sharif was testing that cell with my remote update programme running, and we’re three weeks away from the definitive firmware and design spec for Shanghai.
His mind jumped to the same conclusion as the others had reached – Sabotage! This has to do with XPC. Angela’s just a tool, just a diversion. For some reason I’ve been shoved out of the way while something happens at XPC that the others won’t spot. It must be something to do with that S470 cell. That means Sharif must be involved, because he designed the chip layout. He’s connected to Shen and Daniel and they seem to be connected to Angela. I asked Daniel about that cell yesterday morning, and I was stitched up by Angela last night.
Then Leo remembered that Tom intended to ask Shen about the cell when they got aboard their flight. The realisation hit him like a thunderbolt. They’re all involved; Shen, Daniel and Sharif, that’s who’s behind the rape charge!
No point in trying to get Angela to change her mind, she’s being bribed by, or working for them and they set up the whole sex scene. Then the next revelation hit him. That’s why Scotty died. He found out something about that cell and they got rid of him. He’s dead and they’re probably hoping I will be soon. He wondered momentarily if Tom Connor might be involved, but quickly discounted the idea. Tom’s too decent a guy, an old-fashioned family man, and he’s not competent enough to understand that kind of complex technology. Shen must be running the show, maybe he’s smarter than I figured. It must be something to do with him and Shanghai.
Leo folded a blanket on the cell floor and lay down. He’d been offered a share of a bunk by both Phil and Oskar, but he didn’t want to start off by accepting favours. He knew he’d probably need one soon and he preferred to keep it in reserve. His mind was spinning like a dervish at the implications of the sinister plot, and he doubted he’d get any sleep. But after last night’s exertions and being roused by the police at six, he could have slept on a window ledge. His last thought before unconsciousness was, This is not about sabotaging the launch, it’s about hiding something that will happen when it occurs, something to do with the cell 470 shutdown code. It has to be something big, something so big that two lives don’t count in the equation. But I can’t go public with it without proving it and I don’t trust anyone at XPC except Ed, and if I tell him, he’ll be in danger too. I might be the only person who can prevent whatever it is from happening. I have to find a way to get out of Bur Dubai, and fast.
London, England
At six in the evening, Hugh Middleton’s mobile rang. ‘Good evening, Billy,’ he said. ‘I’m just going over your final draft of the UNSC presentation. It’s rather good. “Hard-hitting stuff” is how I think you Yanks would describe it. How are things on your side of the Atlantic?’
‘Don’t want to be rude, Hugh, but I’ll cut straight to the chase. You and Ilona were right, there’s something shady going on in that Lee-Win/XPC outfit.’
Middleton’s ears pricked up. ‘I assume that you have managed to learn something from young Leo Stewart.’
‘No, I haven’t, and that’s exactly what I mean by shady.’ He quickly recounted his conversation with Tom Connor. ‘It sounds like Leo found out something he shouldn’t, and he’s been framed to get him out of the way.’
The Englishman’s startled reaction was, for him, extreme. ‘My word! This puts a large question mark over the death of his predecessor. You know how suspicious I am of accidental death, especially by poisoning. Probably my diet of Agatha Christie novels as a boy, but I could be right on this occasion.’
‘I’m pretty sure you are, but the question is, what’s the motive? Connor wouldn’t tell me exactly what they’re working on, but I know from what Leo told me in San Diego that it’s a new, all-singing, all-dancing version of ACRE, their data encryption-transmission system. I figure it has to be worth a bundle.’
‘And maybe worth killing or false imprisonment to steal, sell or prevent,’ Middleton responded.
‘I guess so, but I still don’t buy that MicroCentral competition theory, there’s way too many other flies swarming around this XPC dung heap and it’s high time we got to the bottom of it. You’ve dug up a lot of interesting bones about that Chinese guy, Shen Fu Liáng, and now it looks like there’s some fat to put on the skeleton. I want you to send me a copy of the file Ilona put together for you and I’ll bring myself up to speed. It’s late in Dubai now, but tomorrow I’m going to call Ed Muire, an English guy who works with Leo. He might be able to throw some light on the subject, so if I could have that file tonight, it’ll help me sleep. I’ll call you back when I get some answers. Thanks, Hugh.’
Middleton put down the phone, a pensive look on his face. He thought about the probability that Shen Fu Liáng had arranged the death of the parents who had rejected him as a baby. Then about Leo’s mother, Emma, and the frantic worry she must be going through. For the second time, he reflected. I owe it to her to do whatever I can to help Leo escape from prison and get away from Dubai. Ilona was still in the office, and he called her in and shared the Chillicott’s call with her.
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Hugh, you seem very shaken by this news. Is there more about Leo Stewart than you’ve told me, something I should know?’
He shook his head and asked her to forward a copy of the file to the general. ‘Please remove any mention of the deaths of Liáng’s family, or potential wealth. I prefer to remain cautious on those fronts.’
Ilona sent Shen’s file off to the US Department of Homeland Security, then she re-read her dossier on Leo Stewart, looking for anything she might have missed. She was certain Hugh wa
s hiding something from her.
TWENTY-NINE
Bur Dubai Police Station, United Arab Emirates
Saturday, 10 July 2017
‘Showers!’ The guard banged his baton against the cell bars. It was six-thirty on Saturday morning, and Leo had managed to get about six hours of sleep on the floor of the cell.
He grabbed a clean T-shirt from his small pile of belongings and stood outside the cell with Oskar. The guard rousted the other three, then followed close behind them with his baton as they walked along to the shower block. Leo stopped and stared, unable to believe his eyes. About fifty men of every colour, in various stages of nudity, were jostling and fighting for a share of the tepid water squirting down from a dozen or so shower heads spotted around a large, tiled square room. Some of the prisoners were still wearing sneakers or sandals, and the water on the basin floor was ankle deep and filthy.
Oskar saw him looking at the scene in amazement. ‘Welcome to the Dubai Ritz,’ he laughed.
‘When in Rome,’ Leo replied and stripped off his shirt, keeping on his sneakers and shorts. He figured he’d get them washed at the same time, there was unlikely to be a laundry service.
Stepping into the basin, he elbowed his way to a share of a shower with three other men. He grabbed the soap that was being handed around and was soaping his body when he heard, ‘Hey, bitch. I see ya’ bitch. Time for my fuck, Razza’s comin’ over.’
The next moment, a massive arm from behind came around Leo’s chest like a vice, a leg pushed forward between his buttocks and a hand grabbed him by the testicles then tried to pull down his shorts. He jabbed his head backwards and stamped down on the foot, and was rewarded by the sound of crunching cartilage. The vice-like lock around him slackened a little and he squirmed out of the man’s embrace and turned to face him. Razza was naked, and his huge penis stood out like a third leg.
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