The Gruinard Project Chapter 18

[khandy]

More spying more Malcolm

Chapter 18.

Henry James’ office.

Henry James rubbed his hand across his eyes wearily, he wondered if he was getting too old for this job. He was no fool, he realised that he was not the best private investigator in the world; hell he wasn’t even sure that he was the best in Peckham. He worked to the best of his ability with the resources available to him. He knew divorce cases; they were his bread and butter, they enabled him to make his living, which is why he knew something was wrong with this case, it didn’t smell right.

He wasn’t sure when or why he suspected that things were not as they seemed but too many things did not add up. The woman he was dealing with was strangely emotionless about her husband’s infidelity. She seemed more concerned about what he was doing during his working hours. When he had shown her the photographic evidence of the blonde girlfriend, with proof that they had spent more than one night together, there had been no signs of shock or distress; in point of fact that had been no signs of even the mildest surprise.

Her pre occupation with his working life was not that of a women who suspected her husband of sleeping with a work colleague. The detailed report that she wanted about his whereabouts during office hours, suggested something else. What, he wasn’t sure?

The flat that the man went back to was obviously somewhere the wife never went. Not unusual in itself, plenty of people had small pads in the city for work. This wasn’t like that, it was in a good area, prices were high and flats in demand even in the economic recession. He had gained entry to the flat below and if the layout was the same it was a decent size; a home not some place you crashed Monday to Friday.

His curiosity had been peaked so he had begun to investigate things from a different angle. The land registry had the property owned by a person called Lucas North not Steve Williams the man who he was following. The flat had been owned by Mr North for ten years. He could find no tenancy records so he had no idea how long Steve Williams had been living in the flat. Steve Williams was far too common a name to search without more details about the man. He had carried out a search for Lucas North who it turned out was a civil servant just like Steve Williams; maybe that was how Steve Williams was renting the flat. It was possible that they were colleagues.

Steve Williams had not shown up at work today or if he had he had slipped in without Henry seeing him. Henry did not think that was possible. So he had gone to the flat and using the meter reading ruse he had knocked at the door. Gaining no reply he had been about to leave when a neighbour appeared.

“You looking for Lucas mate? He went away for the weekend. I don’t think he’s back, I haven’t heard him moving about.”

A more astute investigator would perhaps have seen this revelation coming. He had glanced at his watch and headed back to his office to meet with his client. She carried out the usual questions and Henry told her that ‘Steve’ had gone away for the weekend. She thanked him, paid her money and left. Watching the direction she disappeared in he gave her a two minute head start and then he had begun to follow her. She had headed into the Queens Road railway station where she had met a man and exchanged the latest report for an envelope, which undoubtedly contained cash. She hadn’t stayed more than a minute and from the station she had gone to an acting agency.

Henry had waited in a café opposite and when she had left he went into the agency on the pretext of wanting to hire an actress for an advert. He’d described the kind of girl he was looking for and ten minutes later had left knowing the woman’s name.

He went over to the battered filing cabinet and poured him self two fingers of cheap scotch. What had he landed in, he wondered? Who was Lucas North? Henry James considered these questions as he sipped his drink. It wasn’t difficult to come to the conclusion that Lucas North was no mere civil servant or computer analyst as he had been told. The fact that he worked at Thames House made him think it was a possibility the man worked for MI5 as an agent.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. Glancing at his watch he wondered who would be calling this late at night.


***************

Thames House Tuesday 07.00hrs

Malcolm glanced at the people who had been on night duty as he made his way to The Grid, relieved it wasn’t him staggering home to bed. He detested the occasions he had to remain at his station overnight, his internal body clock never able to make the adjustment to night work. He supposed that out in the field it might be different but just sitting and staring at a computer all night was a killer. He had only stayed at his station by choice on one occasion, the night Adam had died. Despite Connie’s pleading he had not gone home, knowing that even if he had, sleep would have evaded him.

The Grid was empty, nobody else was in yet. Malcolm loved this time in the morning it was rare for anybody to be at work. He had a routine for this part of the day knowing that later events could throw routine at the window.

He set the coffee machine going so that when the others arrived the hot stimulating brew was ready to kick start their morning. Ros in particular needed caffeine to make her human. His mind drifted to the section head. It hadn’t been easy for Ros to take over after Adam’s death and Malcolm often found himself wondering how she thought she was doing. Despite outward appearances Malcolm suspected that she was not as confident as she wanted people to believe. Like them all, a product of her upbringing. Ros was expected to be a success, her Military father had demanded it.

Malcolm sat down at his station amazed as he always was at the small frisson of excitement and anticipation he always felt when he logged on. Malcolm’s love and understanding of the IT world should have made him a contemporary of Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Tim Berners Lee but his love and loyalty for his country meant that he had channelled his talents in another direction. The casual observer would never guess that Malcolm knew his twitter from his facebook that he bought and sold on EBay and that he was more than a little addicted to youtube. This time in the morning was when he logged on and checked those sites; it was amazing what people talked about and it sometimes paid dividends as it had when the young lad had sold the laser gun on line.

Malcolm spent an hour of guilty pleasure smiling at the comments left online. It was easy to see how some youngsters were taken in by perverts on the internet. You never really knew who you were chatting to. Malcolm had long since come to the conclusion that while the internet was one of man’s greatest inventions it was also one of his most dangerous as well.

Reluctantly he logged off from youtube. He had time to check the surveillance cameras in Henry James’ office before the others arrived. He was doubtful they would show anything however, the person they were dealing with was way too clever to actually go to Henry James’ office in person. Malcolm switched the program on. He registered the blood first; a huge pool of it on the desk and a smaller one on the floor where it had dripped before time had caused the blood to clot. Malcolm shuddered and closed his eyes. Murder was seldom clean and tidy. Although the man was slumped forward in the blood on the desk, it was obviously Henry James.

Malcolm sighed, poor sod he certainly didn’t deserve that kind of exit. Having worked for MI5 for more years than he cared to remember, Malcolm knew that sentiment could not be allowed to colour judgement. His first priority was to remove the surveillance cameras. He made a quick telephone call he ordered the removal of the surveillance equipment reminding the technician too suit up so as not to contaminate the crime scene. Satisfied that this was being dealt with he then ran the tape back from where he had last looked at it; steeling himself to watch Henry James’ last moments.


***************

“The shot was fired from the doorway. If you notice Henry James had heard footsteps on the stairs, he was looking directly at his murderer when the shot was fired.” Malcolm indicated Henry James’ line of vision.

Section D had gathered once more in the conference room while Malcolm briefed them on the latest developments.

“Certainly a professional hit,” Harry commented.

“Yeah the man didn’t enter the office until he had killed Mr James. Single shot between the eyes. Who ever did this is an excellent marks man.”

“Do you mean military, police or security services Malcolm?” Lucas asked

“Impossible to tell but I would hazard a guess that who ever did this has killed in a similar way many times before. I have enhanced the shot of the gun as it was fired. As you can see it is a Walther P99.”

“Standard issue for the military, police or security services. Lucas if the bloke was taller you would be suspect numero uno,” Jo said.

“Thank God I’m tall then. I was worried for a moment,” Lucas replied drolly.

He felt Kate tense at the light hearted banter. He glanced at her concerned, this could not be easy for her. He guessed she didn’t think much of his and Jo’s flippancy.

“He looks as if he is police military or security service trained. His stance and hold on the gun are similar to how I was taught,” Lucas said. “Definitely a pro.”

“Well certainly he went to the office to kill James and remove any evidence. If we watch the tape from when Henry returns to his office we can see that he makes notes in two files. Our assassin removes both the files and wipes the hard drive of both computers in the office.”

“What do you think he was doing before making his notes? He seemed to sit with that whisky as if contemplating something for a long while,” Kate asked.

“That’s anybody’s guess,” Harry said quietly. “Mine would be he stumbled into something he shouldn’t.”

“Any news on the woman yet Jo?” Ros looked at the young woman.

“Her name is Sally Kerr; I got a contact number for her agents. I spoke to them on Friday before I left. I have a meeting with her this afternoon; apparently she was away all weekend.”

“Ok good. Have the Met. released any details of Mr James’ murder yet?” Ros asked.

“No a statement is due to be made at mid-day,” Malcolm replied. “As of yet they are unaware of fives involvement in all this. Do we keep it that way?”

They all looked at Harry.

“Yes at this moment we cannot tell them much and I would rather keep our killer in the dark about what we know. Lucas, Kate, I understand that you require some time to analyse the information you found out at Welchem. Briefing this afternoon please.”

***************
Kate was struggling to concentrate; her mind seemed unable to block the image of Henry James being murdered. She felt like a sleazy voyeur watching something that was so depraved. She was also having trouble reconciling herself to some of the decisions that the team made regarding information. It was morally wrong, not to mention almost certainly illegal not to turn the tape over to the police. MI5 seemed to walk a very narrow line when it came to national security.

She glanced at Lucas, from his posture she could tell he was in ‘the Zone’ as Jo put it. She had to admit she was a little disappointed in him. The flippancy that both he and Jo had shown towards Henry James’ death had surprised her. Was it wrong of her to see this as disrespectful? Death and murder were surely no laughing matter.

Sighing she stood and stretched. She was getting nowhere with analysing the data they had retrieved manly because she was not reading it, she was merely looking at it. She moved over to the coffee machine and poured a cup. She stood for a few minutes looking at the television screen which was tuned into the rolling news coverage provided by the BBC. She was just wondering who had come up with the stupid idea of this kind of news coverage which they repeated same story for hours when the breaking news graphic flashed across the screen. Reports were coming in of a second murder in the capital. They crossed from the studio to a reporter who was interviewing a distressed member of the public. It was the name the girl said that stopped Kate walking away in disgust at the intrusive nature of the journalist.

“Her name is Sally Kerr she was me flat mate. It’s not right that this could happen.” The girl spoke through her sobs.

“Jo, Malcolm you need to see this.” Kate called them over.

They stood in silence watching the report. The girl had apparently been strangled in her own home.

“It is way too much to suppose this is a coincidence. I am going to patch into The Met and see if I can find out any more details.” Malcolm turned to walk back to his station.

“Well that’s my afternoon down the swanny, I hope Ros doesn’t give me even more paperwork to do,” Jo grimaced.

It was the whining that made Kate snap. What was with these people?

“What the hell is wrong with you all, two people have been butchered and you think it is appropriate to make jokes or moan at the inconvenience. I need some air let me know when you can speak about this with a little respect for the dead.” She slammed the cup down and shoving past the surprised Jo, headed to the lifts.

The smashing of the cup jolted Lucas back to the present. It took him a moment to bring everything back into focus and he was only aware of Kate storming off, not what had caused the reaction.

“Jo what’s up?”

“I have annoyed her for not taking death seriously enough. It looks like Sally Kerr’s been murdered as well.”

Cursing under his breath Lucas made to follow Kate. He had cocked up big time; he should have debriefed her after Malcolm had shown them the tape. He had known it had upset her.

Lucas stepped out into the bright sunshine and scanned the area. It was at times like this he was glad he was tall. He spotted her down on the embankment looking out across the Thames. Stopping just to grab a bottle of water from a vendor down by the river he then made his way over to her.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Go away Lucas, I am annoyed with you as well as Jo.”

Lucas handed her the water.

“I’ll be over there if you want to talk.” He pointed to a bench a few feet away.

She stood looking out over the river. Arrogant sod thinking she was just going to go over there and talk to him. Well he could just stew on it. Anger burned through her; causing hot tears to burn her eyes. Why was she so emotional about these people? It wasn’t like she knew them. In her time as a medical doctor she had seen a similar kind of humour around the dead and dying. A lump was forming in her throat and she sipped the cool water to try and force it away. She cast a glance in his direction and sighed. Why the hell did he have to look so worried? She walked slowly towards him.

“Don’t look at me like that and make me feel guilty for worrying you,” she said as she sat down.

“Sorry. It‘s not that we don‘t care you know.”

“I know that! I worked in the medical profession, I know how inappropriate humour is used to cover up feelings; I just didn’t expect it from you. I guess I realised that you are a little bit human after all.”

“You only just realised, after seeing me run from my demons?”

“Yeah but that just makes you endearing, laughing and joking with Jo as you watch someone being murdered was just sickening. The knight slipped from his white charger.”

Lucas winced.

“Sorry do you think he can climb back up?”

“I am sure you’ll manage it. What annoys me more is the way you play with people’s lives. You are not connected to these people but you mess with their lives anyway. What gives you the right to withhold evidence? Who made you all above the law?”

“Kate I wish I could live in your black and white world but I can’t and neither can the others. We have to see the shades of grey that the public either can’t or don’t want to see. That means making choices that are abhorrent. Today it was watching a man get murdered and discussing it as if it were an episode of Big Brother. Tomorrow it may mean killing somebody.”

“What like killing Henry James?” Kate asked, knowing what the reply would be.

“I could have made that shot but I would have chosen not to. I only kill if I or somebody I am protecting is under attack.”

“I just ask myself who are you accountable to if it all goes wrong?”

“You, the public. But Kate it seldom goes wrong. The country would come to a standstill if we didn’t work like this. Look what happens when we tighten security at airports, it’s chaos.”

“How do you do it though and not go mad?”

“Everybody is different. Me I have a place I go to. I am completely alone there. I use the time to grieve and mourn and then I come back.”

Kate looked at him carefully. Although she wanted to know where this place was she knew she would never ask him to tell her. Even if their relationship stood the test of time she would allow him that space.

“Are you ready to go back?” he asked.

“Yeah I guess.” She took his hand and gave it a small squeeze before walking back inside

[HellsBells]

Another great chapter, khandy.