“And what was this guy like? Why did he stand out from the rest?”
“He was really pissed off. He didn’t want to leave the service. I think he might be one of those that were made redundant, you know, ‘Service no longer required’ and all that. He was quite angry. He had all the signs of PTSD all right and, from what I can recall, we were all quite heavily medicated at the time. He refused to take his meds and left the programme.”
“Can you recall his name or the name of the hospital? If you can remember any dates, that would be good. It would at least give us something to work on.”
“Fi, I can’t even remember what day it is today, let alone dates from two or three years ago, I’m afraid.”
“And the hospital?”
“I do remember that it was in Surrey because it was near my aunt’s at Farnborough. I stayed with her overnight. I think it was called The Grays or something similar.”
“Thank you for the information, Sir. It was terrific to see you, and I wish you well for the future. If in the area, I’ll be sure to pop in to say hello and have a pint or two.”
“You do that, Fi. I’m always around here. The family wants me to run the hunt on the estate, but I can’t bring myself to pick up a gun anymore, so there is little use me doing that job, is there? I’ll find something to occupy me, I always do. You take care, Fi, and be careful in your work.”
Fi picked up her helmet and strode over to her bike with the captain and Rover at her side. She straddled the bike and started up. She extended her hand to shake hands with the captain.
“Take care, Sir. I’ll be in touch.”
Fi made the return journey without any detours back to The Ranch. In the middle of her ride, she couldn’t get the windfalls out of her mind so called Abi.
“Abi, I’ve had a couple of fruitful meetings, and I’m not sure what will become of the information I’ve got, but I think it’s worth looking into.”
“Hi Fi, that sounds intriguing. Tell me more.”
“The first thing is can you locate a mental health hospital in Surrey that is near Farnborough, possibly called The Grays. We need to look at patients that were there at the same time as Captain Evans, which was about two to three years ago. Evidently, there was a man on the course that might fit the profile. The captain claims that the man had classic PTSD symptoms, was very angry and refused to take his meds.”
“Do we know why he was so angry?”
“The captain seems to think that he may have been one of the many that were made redundant, and he didn’t want to go.”
“Oh, I can understand that.”
“The second thing is more of a hunch than anything else. You see, my friend, Greg, told me this afternoon that a number of the boys had come into a cash windfall. And we’re talking about some considerable sums of money here. It seems that at least three ex-Special Forces members have received large sums of cash from an unknown source via courier, one of which had enough cash to revamp his whole house to accommodate his sick wife’s needs, and enough left over to buy a fancy car. My contact claims that he received an envelope with ten grand in it. What do you think about it, Abi?”
“It sounds a bit odd to me. We do have anonymous benefactors in the world, but normally they set up trusts and don’t have the money delivered in cash via a courier anonymously. I don’t know where we would start to check this out. I’ll have to think about it. What were your initial thoughts, Fi?”
“I don’t know … I had the stupid idea that there was some Robin Hood factor at work here.”
“You mean somebody is robbing Peter to pay Paul?”
“Yes, something like that. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I mean where did that 24.25 million go?”
“Oh, I see what you mean. Now that’s an interesting prospect. So, we are asking is it possible that our targets actually stole the cash to redistribute some of it to ex-servicemen? A little like we do, but in another way.”
“Yes, a little bit like that. You see, the ones I know about would have been on benefits, and if the money had been put into their bank accounts via a trust it would have to be accounted for and may affect their benefits. Whereas a cash windfall delivered by courier wouldn’t be traceable and therefore wouldn’t affect their benefits. Unless they declare them, of course.”
“I follow you. Let me dig around to see what I can find. You don’t happen to know the couriers, do you?”
“I’m afraid not, Abi. I’m going to get off now and concentrate on the road. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Okay, Roger that. Ride safely.”
Chapter 21 – The Theory
Jago wandered around the old, disused classroom. The desks and chairs had been neatly stacked in the corner of the room, revealing the old, grey-tiled floor. A large blackboard remained in place and, at the opposite end of the room, you could see the mark where the classroom clock had been hung over the years. He took out his mobile and dialled the number the commander had given him during their meeting at the water sports centre. It connected immediately. “Hello, Moffat’s Interiors, may I help you?”
“Hello, I have a message, and I need to go secure, please.”
“Certainly, Sir. Wait one moment.”
He waited patiently as usual and took the opportunity to look out of the window onto the school grounds, watching the river traffic in the distance.
“Hello, Sir. We are secure now. You may proceed with your identity first, please.”
“Jack Jago here with a message for the commander.”
“Verifying, Sir, I won’t be a moment.”
He waited a few more seconds before the familiar voice came back on the line.
“Very good, Sir. Can you give me the message, please?”
“I need a face-to-face meeting as soon as possible. I suggest somewhere nearby, such as the Household Cavalry Museum. End message.”
“Thank you, Sir. Your message has been sent. You should receive a direct response shortly.”
He didn’t get chance to say goodbye as the line was cut at the end of the conversation. It was pretty cold, but that was the world in which he lived and worked.
***
Wondering how long it would be before he had the return call, Jago decided to stroll around the grounds and check that all was secure. While at the rear of the old brick building, he examined the anti-drone turrets and came upon Abi who was out taking a ride.
“Where are you off to, young lady?”
“I just need to clear my head a while. I just have to do that from time to time, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know what you mean.”
“I do a few laps out here, and while I’m out here, I check the perimeter. Do you fancy a run? I’ll give you a head start, if you like?”
“Thanks, but I’m waiting for a call. I think I’ll take myself down the range. I’ve always found the range to be a place where I can think.”
“Okay, Boss, whatever is best for you. By the way, Fi had a fruitful day with her contacts. We are looking at the possibility of finding the name of an outpatient at a mental health hospital in Surrey.” She waited to see if he was going to ask a question before continuing. “She is also curious to discover how some ex-servicemen, specifically ex-Special Forces, came to receive unexpected cash windfalls. She thinks that we might have some kind of Robin Hood on our hands.”
Jago looked puzzled. “And do you think there’s any merit in this, Abi?”
“The captain that Fi spoke to described the man that attended his PTSD sessions as being a recent leaver — against his will I hasten to add — very angry, and on heavy meds. He then refused to take them and had to leave the programme. The question is, could he be angry enough to pull off the events that we are looking at?”
“Okay, Abi. Keep me posted on this, will you? Right, I’m off to the range, I’ll see you later. Enjoy your run.”
Abi set off into the distance and Jago made his way to the indoor range. The old kitchen
that annexed the main building was the most natural part of the building to reinforce and convert into an indoor range. It had worked rather well. As Jago unlocked the magazine to gather his ammunition, his phone rang. It was the commander.
“Hello Jago, how may I help you?”
“Can you meet me as suggested, at say, 1400 hours?”
“Well, I see that you have selected somewhere that is conveniently close by. I shall be there at 1400 hours sharp. I’ll meet you at the Battle of Waterloo.”
“Thank you, Sir, I’ll see you then.”
Jago set a target and thoughtfully loaded a magazine. He cocked his weapon of choice, the Sig Sauer P239, and aimed. At first, Jago fired single shots, then he practiced a few double taps. He fired three magazines in all, bringing the target back each time to examine his handiwork, and was pleased with the result.
***
Bernie was busy cross-referencing some documents when he caught sight of Jago making his way to his room.
“Boss, do you have a minute?”
“Yes, Bernie, what is it?”
“I’ve been cross-referencing some documents that mention Mary Harker. You know, the type of documents that are put together by committees and working parties. They tend to have names of contributors attributed to them and the names of attendees, et cetera. It’s these documents that I’ve been cross-referencing against the names of other possibilities. And, I think I’ve come across one. See, Mary Harker and our illustrious Dr Dean are both mentioned in an intelligence review. It seems that Mary Harker was there in the capacity of an overseer, on the committee, and the dear doctor in the capacity of an independent but trusted medical adviser.”
“Okay, what does that tell us? What can we glean from this information?”
“I was hoping that this would be a start. It establishes that two of our personalities have been involved in the same sort of work at some point. I just need to mine a little deeper, but I wanted you to know because until now we’ve had very little to go on.”
“That’s very true, Bernie, well done. Make sure you brief Abi. By the way, this is the second op that you’ve worked on with Abi, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Boss. I suppose that she’s been with you about eighteen months now, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, I suppose it’s about that length of time. While Abi’s out having a run, may I ask how you think that she’s doing? I mean, I’m out and about most of the time, and we communicate and all that, but it’s not the same as being with her here all day, every day.”
“She’s a real gem. She’s fantastic at what she does, she’s a great controller, the best I’ve worked with. The only thing she could do with is more rest, but I guess that’s part of the job for all of us when we’re on an op, isn’t it? But to answer your real question, she’s settled, she’s settled very well considering what she’s been through. Being here, doing this type of work has been the best thing for her; she has a purpose in her life once again. Oh, and did you know that her coach down at the track thinks that she should go for the Invictus Games squad?”
“No, I didn’t know that. Thanks, Bernie, that means a lot. I’m pleased that she’s settled in, and as for the Invictus Games, do you think there is anything else we can do to help her?”
“I don’t know, Boss. I’ll think about it. Maybe we’ll have more time to figure that out once this op is finished.”
“Let me know if you come up with anything and I’ll have a think too. Right, I’m off to the city. I have a short meeting to attend.”
He left the office, pondering Bernie’s comments. He’d known and trusted Bernie for many years. He’d brought him in on the team for the operation because he was an excellent collator and analyst. He was a good man, able to complement and support Abi while keeping an eye out for her best interests. Jago highly valued Bernie’s opinion.
***
Jago strode across the expansive parade ground, en route to the Horse Guards Parade Museum. Passing the imposing bronze statue of Field Marshal Garnet Joseph Wolseley, Jago entered the main entrance. He’d visited the museum a couple of times, and while he knew the layout reasonably well, he was conscious that the museum changed its displays from time to time. He paid his entry fee and was given a map. He was early enough to have a walk around for a quarter of an hour. He’d never been inclined to be with horses, even when he was in the Royal Military Police where they had their own mounted section. It didn’t stop him admiring ceremonial uniforms on display, although it did put a shiver down his spine thinking of all the cleaning hours required.
It was 13:55 hours, and Jago made his way to the Battle of Waterloo as arranged. Sat on a chair was the commander, minus his duffel coat. Instead, he was wearing a rather smart pinstripe suit, complete with pocket handkerchief and service tie.
“This is one of my favourite pictures. It gives a real sense of the scale and absolute horror of war. It must’ve been ghastly to have fought in that campaign. One dreads another,” said the commander.
Both men stood before the Battle of Waterloo taking in its detail.
“Come on, then. I haven’t got all day, let’s walk.”
They walked for a few minutes, passing a few of the museum visitors, before eventually arriving at the stables. It was quiet save the odd grunt from a horse or two.
Jago came to the point straight away. “I’d like to know what you’re not telling me, Sir.”
“You don’t mince your words, do you, Jago?”
“No Sir, I don’t. I haven’t got time to do anything else.”
“Very well, Jago. I’ll tell you my theory, and it is just that — a theory. I think that someone has access to the highest level in government, in Parliament, and possibly higher, if you get my meaning?”
He looked Jago straight in the eye before continuing.
“By now you may realise that people in high places may have been affected by these incidents. Is that not so?”
“In fact, we only have information that one Member of Parliament, one retired military officer and one senior doctor have been affected to date.”
“Then my theory may not hold water. And I hope you’re right.”
“I did say ‘to date’, Sir. We’re still making inroads into this and we have no idea if, when and where they will strike next. We don’t even know why.”
“Jago, I have this nagging feeling that this is something to do with the military. I don’t know why, I can’t put my finger on it, but something somewhere has drawn my attention to this. And I can’t for the life of me think where from … and that worries me. I may be getting old and losing it a bit, although I don’t think that’s the case. I think it’s more that I’m more attuned to events due to my years of experience, shall we say. What I’m saying here, Jago, is that I’m entrusting this to you. I can’t fully explain it, but I do think people in high places may be at risk.”
Jago reeled at the commander’s revelation and, in a hushed voice, asked, “You don’t mean that the Commander-in-Chief could be at risk here, do you?”
“I shudder to think of it, but she does have the ultimate authority of the British Armed Forces, albeit from a de facto point of view. I know one could argue that the Prime Minister and Secretary of State for Defence are ultimately responsible, but let us not forget that all members of the Armed Forces swear allegiance to only the Commander-in-Chief, the Queen.”
“Have you discussed this with anyone?”
“No, I haven’t. You are the only person that I’ve discussed my theory with. Tell me, honestly, do you think that I’m a doddering old fool?”
“No, Sir. You’re no fool. I trust your instincts. Let’s just hope they’re not right on this occasion. Are you able to increase security without alerting anyone?”
“I don’t think I can. You see, I have no way of knowing who I can and cannot trust. We just need to move as expeditiously as possible.”
“I agree. I can assure you that we’re doing everything we possibly can. By the way, I think
you should know that Lord Grimshaw’s daughter, Irene, is running a little sideline.”
“Oh, that is interesting. And may I ask what that sideline might be?”
“Same game as Sir Arthur Green. Arms dealing. Small-scale but arms dealing nevertheless. I’m not sure if she’s into a few other things. Would you prefer we keep this under wraps, or open it up a little?”
“Keep it under wraps for the moment. We may be able to use that knowledge to our advantage on a future rainy day. As for Sir Arthur Green, he needs to be reined in somewhat. Leave him to me.”
Chapter 22 - A Dangerous Side-line
Irene Grimshaw’s office was an imposing building outside the port of Tilbury. In the fine drizzle, the name ‘The Grimshaw Shipping & Holding Company’ featured on a mounted stone plinth on the wet drive. To all intents and purposes, it was just another office building on four floors. The interior oozed plushness and pure opulence but with its green glass walls it also appeared cold and austere. For many, it was just another office block. But for Dom, sat outside in his black van, it was much more. It was a fortress.
When he took a closer look, he discovered a manned gatehouse, complete with an electronic barrier. There was vehicle licence plate recognition technology, and an eight-foot perimeter wall, nicely designed and entirely in keeping with its surroundings. And then there was the state-of-the-art intruder detection system featuring a microwave and infrared detection technology around that wall. Dom also noticed that parked alongside the building to the left sat a dog patrol car. Through his binoculars, he could just see that inside the building’s main foyer there was a welcoming reception area manned by a couple of ladies, and not too far away stood two uniformed guards. They were positioned next to the half-height sensor barriers for staff and visitor access management.
Abi had furnished him with the plans of the buildings, which he oriented in his hands. The drawing showed the office block to be arranged around a central atrium. Each floor above the garden was connected by a bridge, except for the fourth floor — a solid full floor that housed the living quarters and private office space for Irene Grimshaw. He could see that primary access to this level was by lift, although it did show there was an emergency staircase within the building. The main entrance was to the front of the building, with a secondary entrance to the side and an emergency exit to the rear providing access to the central car park.
Shades of Loyalty Page 17
