by Ted Tayler
Colin reviewed what he had gathered. He thought it enough to convince people that Sir Godfrey only intended to be spending one night in the great outdoors and expected to be home by the next evening. It fitted with the usual itinerary that saw him scuttling back to London on the train on Monday in time for his first board meeting on Tuesday.
As he passed the bathroom on his way to add his haul to the contents of his rucksack, he put his head around the door. Perfect, Penrose brought a wash bag from London for his face flannel, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving gel. Just a couple more things to find and everything would be set.
Colin located the drinks cabinet and selected a bottle of a ten-year-old malt. The fridge had an almost empty container of milk. He emptied the last few dregs and rinsed it out and then filled it with drinking water from the tap. Once he had loaded everything into the Range Rover, they could get going.
Colin turned off the downstairs lights. His first job was to move the rucksack, the equipment, and the holdall into the Range Rover. The holdall now held other odds and ends such as the bottled water, the whisky, and the wash bag to reduce the items he needed to carry. There was no sign of any movement anywhere within a few hundred yards either side of the cottage.
Colin returned upstairs and released Sir Godfrey and led him downstairs. With a quick check before he stepped out of the doorway, he pushed the old man into the cold night air. Once he tethered him to the headrest again Colin returned indoors. He tidied the bedclothes upstairs, switched off the lights, and turned off the CD player. Just as he made to leave he remembered to return the CD to its case and replace it on the pile where he found it.
The door closed behind him. Neither man was returning to the cottage, so Colin double checked it was securely locked. In the darkness, Colin drove away from the cottage. When he had got far enough away from the group of houses, he switched on his headlights and made towards Tor Royal Lane. He turned off the lane onto one of the many unnamed roads on the moors and after fifteen minutes he drove alongside Crazy Well Pool. He left Sir Godfrey in the Range Rover and carried the equipment into the field. It was only a two-minute walk.
Colin got the lamp going then erected the tent and stacked the provisions at the rear, covering the lot with the groundsheet. He got the whisky bottle out of the holdall and put it on the ground by the tent flap, placing the trash bag underneath it ready for later. Time to invite Sir Godfrey to join him.
Penrose stumbled and nearly fell several times as he dragged him across the rough ground. The old man whimpered, with no idea what was in store for him. Colin thought this was how his victims felt over the years. Now it was his turn. Colin shivered. Not in reaction to his thoughts but because the temperature had dropped.
Colin removed the handcuffs and put them in his pocket for the time being. He ordered Sir Godfrey to remove his clothing. When the old man shook his head and mumbled something behind the duct tape Colin thumped him hard in his flabby stomach. The old man crumpled and collapsed to his knees. The wind was taken out of him.
“Do it,” said Colin, “you’re going for a swim.”
He kept a close watch on the old man as he undressed. In the rucksack, Colin had stashed a coiled length of rope and a flashlight at the top. He removed these two items and when the old man was naked, he tied the rope tight around both his wrists. With the flashlight clipped onto his jacket leaving his hands free, Colin led Sir Godfrey across the grass to Crazy Well Pool and pushed him into the water. Then he walked along the side of the pool dragging the old man through the water. With his arms tied and stretched out in front of him, his captive found it impossible to alter his predicament. He was dragged through the freezing water for what must have seemed hours but was only minutes.
Colin knew what was happening to Penrose. His physical condition was poor; his skin blue and puffy before he entered the water. He was showing symptoms of cold shock, breathing rapidly through the nose, inhaling water every time his head ducked under the surface. His blood pressure was increasing and the massive strain on his heart would finish him. The time had come for the next stage of the plan.
Colin turned around and started back towards where he had pitched the tent. Sir Godfrey floundered in the shallow waters at the edge and struggled to get to his feet. He crawled through the grass behind Colin; his legs refused to work. His body was shutting down. Colin unscrewed the top of the whisky bottle.
“Fancy a drink?” asked Colin.
The old man lay in a heap two yards in front of him. He wasn’t going anywhere. He trembled violently. Colin gathered up the old man’s clothes and stuffed them into the trash bag. He put the bag on the groundsheet with the rest of the things at the back of the tent. He dragged Sir Godfrey into the tent. It was a tight squeeze for a one-man tent, but Colin didn’t plan on staying the night. He returned for the whisky bottle, and after ripping the duct tape from his captive’s face, poured the spirits into his throat, past his chattering teeth. Time and again Sir Godfrey gagged and each time Colin waited patiently until he could continue pouring. When the bottle was empty, he laid it on the ground by Penrose. He removed the rope and leaving the tent flap open to the elements he backed out of the tent and gathered up his things.
He looked inside the tent. Sir Godfrey no longer shivered. His core temperature was dropping fast. The shock of the water, the alcohol and the prospect of spending a night in the countryside naked added up to one thing. Penelope Penrose would spend her weekends in Stowmarket alone in the years to come.
Colin waited until midnight. Inside the tent, nothing stirred. He left the lamp lit. It might survive until tomorrow, no matter if it didn’t. The Range Rover was parked up by the side of the road and locked up nice and secure. The keys now sat in Sir Godfrey’s jacket pocket along with the rest of his clothes in the trash bag. Colin lifted his rucksack onto his back and set off across country towards Shaugh Prior. Eight miles at night, due south, Colin thought he might get his own tent pitched and sleep for a couple of hours. There was no chance of a lie-in. He had to make that return leg from Shaugh Prior to Plymouth early in the morning. No rest for the wicked.
It was noon and Colin travelled to Bath Spa, looking forward to a hot shower, a decent meal and a few hours ‘catch-up’ sleep this afternoon. He skimmed through the newspaper he bought on the platform while he waited for his train. There were pages of coverage on potential strikes by terrorists on mainland UK; airports and government buildings were taking extra security precautions. Across the pond, Wall Street was due to be occupied by people protesting about the financial crisis. Colin knew Sir Godfrey Penrose was unlikely to feature in the press just yet. Far too early for that.
Colin had trudged on through the night, finding his way at last to Shaugh Prior. His timing wasn’t far wrong. He settled in for his short kip well before four o’clock. He awoke by seven and packed everything away. It was freezing, and his fingers were slower to respond to what he asked of them than normal. He got himself warm soon enough as he walked and jogged his way back towards Plymouth. He got to the station not long after half-past ten. Fifteen minutes later he stowed away his rucksack and found a seat on a train that carried him back to the Roman city by two o’clock at the latest.
Back in the countryside near Crazy Well Pool, there was little change from the previous night. The lamp expired just before dawn. It was as light as it would get today, with the thick cloud and drizzle that hung over the moorland. There were no vehicles on the unnamed road this morning. Nor were there any hikers or anoraked youngsters on organised walks.
CHAPTER 18
Colin had phoned ahead for transport and fallen asleep in the minicab on the trip back to Larcombe Manor. The driver elbowed him awake as they drew up outside the stable block.
“There you go Phoenix,” he said, “I should sleep for a few hours mate. Nobody in the big house will bother you today. The balloon’s ready to go up and they’re tied up in meetings.”
“Thanks,” said Colin. He drop
ped his rucksack inside the door of his quarters and crashed out on his bed. It was nine o’clock before he awoke and he headed over to the canteen for a meal. There were several other people around and the general chit chat concerned where and when this inevitable strike would hit. Colin gathered that London was the odds-on favourite; not that anyone kept a book.
By ten o’clock Colin was ready to get back to his bed. The exercise in the West Country had exhausted him. He unpacked the rucksack and sorted the things he had taken with him; ready to drop them back to the store's staff in the morning. And so, to bed, as someone said.
In Milton Keynes, three young men rested. They had been awake since five o’clock. It was important to have a morning routine. Prayers, supplications, and reading from the Quran came before a hearty healthy breakfast. They well trained. Eighteen months ago, they travelled to Pakistan where they studied alongside Al Qaeda and learned how to make homemade explosives. During their stay, each member recorded martyrdom videos to be released after their deaths.
Arshad, Irfan, and Karim were born in Britain. The chosen ones. They had volunteered to strap on an explosive rucksack and detonate it in a crowded place.
Everything had been prepared. What they had to do now was to wait. Wait for the text message that identified their target.
The streets that surrounded the maisonette contained other little boxes that had smart new cars on the forecourt. Their occupants went about their business with no clue what was being planned just a few yards away.
Many miles away Erebus chaired another Olympus meeting at Larcombe. Athena sat on his right-hand side, head forward, contemplating the tabletop. Thanatos, Alastor, and Minos sat on the left of Erebus and they waited anxiously for their leader to tell them the latest information from the surveillance section.
Colin Bailey swam length after length in the pool, alongside Rusty. Neither man was aware of the other. Both knew Larcombe Manor was as quiet as it had ever been. Everyone on site held their breath as they waited for news.
Was it possible for the surveillance section to track the whereabouts of the cell before the secret services? Could one or the other of them find the bombers and capture them before they left their hiding place and set out for their target? Or did another scene of devastation and misery lie in store; as there had been in July 2005?
Erebus studied the information in front of him. He pursed his lips and thought for a moment. Then he spoke.
“We have traced internet traffic between Pakistan and the UK that may prove useful. Various messages passed to addresses in Birmingham and Leicester. If we combine this with mobile phone traffic between Birmingham, Leicester and Milton Keynes over the past twenty days, it’s possible we have found several links in the chain. We might have the most vital link, the one that leads to the bombers themselves. On the other hand, they may not have included the hit squad in the messaging loop yet. We may only get one chance to catch that message giving them the go-ahead.”
“Do we have people on the streets watching these addresses?” asked Athena.
“We do,” Erebus replied, “and we are alone. The security services haven’t traced these links yet. So, we won’t be treading on anyone’s toes. We can’t go into the three properties we have identified with guns blazing without revealing our hand. We must try to take out the bomber or bombers and leave sufficient evidence at the property that a trained monkey could trace it back to the hubs.”
Thanatos leant forward in his chair.
“How much do we know about the property in Milton Keynes?” he asked.
“I think that’s the one to concentrate on for now,” said Erebus. “It’s more likely that the other two cities have the more senior members of the cell and that’s why the direct traffic is arriving there. The property in question is a two bedroomed maisonette owned by a shop owner in the centre of town, he rents out this place to college students.”
“How many students occupy this maisonette at present?” Alastor asked. “Have we identified them yet?
“The stakeout team has seen four or five different people entering and leaving the house; they were around twenty years of age,” answered Erebus. “As yet we don’t have a complete history of them.”
“We should step up our efforts to confirm the Milton Keynes house as the bomber’s bolt hole,” said Athena. “Then move in and dispose of them before they can do any damage.”
“Agreed,” said Erebus, “in the meantime, we will put the surveillance section on red alert. Any message between the known suspects might be the instruction to start the mission. Our man on the inside may well have been compromised. We haven’t heard from him for a while. If we miss them getting a green light, then we’ll be chasing shadows, and risk being too late to stop them. If there’s nothing else, I need to get Phoenix to come over to the house to debrief his Devon assignment. I have complete confidence it passed off without a hitch, but there has been no news yet on the demise of any former prominent politician.”
As the others stood up and prepared to leave, Erebus called Athena back to him.
“Are you travelling up to London this week?”
“My parents are back from the South of France on Wednesday. My father has concerns about my mother’s health. I want to be with them after they’ve returned from her appointment in Harley Street on Thursday.”
“That’s understandable my dear; go with my blessing.”
Colin received a call at five to eleven. Erebus wanted to meet him in the orangery on the hour. Colin trotted across to the building and found Erebus sat in a chair deep in thought. Colin sat beside him and waited for the old man to speak.
“A successful trip, Phoenix?”
“Without a doubt,” replied Colin.
“Good. What do we need to do next?”
“The body will be discovered in time. Marks found on the body at the post-mortem will show that the target had been secured by the wrists before he died. He will have bruises on the midriff too and other bumps and scratches received while in the water. I left incriminating material I discovered in a holdall for the police to follow up on, and there should be enough clues for them to uncover his murky history.”
“We can help with that. I’ll make sure the police receive a tip-off from a concerned member of the public that Sir Godfrey was suspected of interfering with young people. There’s a big enough witch-hunt for crimes of that nature committed decades ago underway as we know. They can’t afford to leave it off the list. A word in the right ear and the bruising might be dismissed because of a predilection for rough sex. Well done Phoenix. Onwards and upwards,”
“Scotland?” asked Colin.
“Correct,” said Erebus, “but not before the weekend. I have another task for you between now and then. Athena is travelling to London to spend time with her folks. I want you to run surveillance on her while she’s in Belgravia. For God’s sake don’t let her know she’s being watched. I’m concerned for her. The imminent terrorist attack is too close to home for her, losing her partner in the way she did. I fear she may try to exact revenge. The Olympus Project can’t allow her to endanger our secret organisation with a vigilante attack on any cell members she identifies. As my designated successor, we must do everything to avoid losing her.
“I understand,” said Colin, wondering what clothing he needed to wear in Belgravia. He wasn’t sure he had the right stuff hanging in his wardrobe.
“A dossier on Donald MacDonald to look through will be available when you get back to your quarters. Everything you will need is in there. I’ll get you more cash to cover your expenses while in London too. I’d give you the name of a good tailor but we haven’t got time for something ‘made to measure’. Just try not to stick out like a sore thumb won’t you old chap. The details of Athena’s trip will be with you later today.”
Erebus gave notice the meeting had ended by getting up and walking out. Colin returned to his quarters. Sure enough, the promised dossier had arrived. Colin lay on his bed and read t
hrough it.
He glossed over the preliminary stuff of which he was already aware. The surveillance team and an agent on the spot had added a few interesting items in the past week. Donald MacDonald’s internet connection mysteriously failed, and he contacted his service provider. An Olympus agent arrived within half an hour and sorted the ‘problem’. While at the property he downloaded a copy of everything on the crafty copper’s computer. He noted that the invalid father no longer lived on the premises.
Several possible scenarios had been planned to explain the engineer’s arrival from the real internet provider, but sometimes you get lucky. The policeman suddenly left the house for an hour or two after the bogus repair guy left. The real engineer arrived and finding nobody in, he left a card. When Donald returned, he threw it in the bin thinking a second van must have turned up by mistake. The policeman was none the wiser.
The computer ‘techie’ who carried out a forensic analysis of the policeman’s hard drive, found around fifteen hundred images of girls. Plus, one hundred hours of video footage. Ninety-five per cent of the images depicted girls under fourteen. Over four hundred images fell into the most severe category, Category A. The analysis also showed elements of the video footage had been watched the evening before being retrieved by the Olympus agent.
Colin knew if this evidence found its way into the hands of the Fife Constabulary Donald MacDonald might only be banged up for months and made to sign the Register. That would never be enough to stop him re-offending. To save any younger women in Dunfermline being targeted by this pervert, direct action was essential. He formulated the best exit strategy for his next target.
It only took Colin an hour to put the details into his laptop. He printed off the itinerary to pass to Erebus for approval and sent an equipment list to the stores for collection on Friday. This babysitting duty in Belgravia with Athena was scheduled to be over by Thursday night. Erebus wanted her back in the fold at Larcombe by then.
