Frank Mancuso, head of security at Last Cairngorm, had taken her on as a personal assistant and general gopher, and when she told him about the advert in the postgrad newsletter – “Professional couple seeks au pair to provide reliable, stimulating childcare for two bright but demanding primary schoolgirls” - he had encouraged her to apply. It offered pay at just above the legal minimum wage, board and lodging.
‘That’s great, Shelley. We’ll miss you here at Last, but it sounds like just what you need. If the kids are in school, you should have plenty of time to work on your dissertation. That, and board and lodgings, make it a no-brainer. Go for it! What do the parents do?’
‘She’s a family doctor and he’s a detective with North East Constabulary. They seem very nice. I said I’d let them know by the end of today. I’ll stay here until the weekend, if that would help.’
Mancuso smiled. ‘No, it would probably be best if you started as soon as they want you.’
*
As they left the team meeting, Colin MacNee caught up with Vanessa Fiske.
‘Thanks for your advice last week, boss. Turned out that Janet got a similar steer from the senior partner in her health centre. Probably because she’s been taking more of the strain than I have, and because she can be very decisive when the situation demands it, she took action. She approached both universities and asked them to put a note in the email they send out every week to their postgrads. That went out on Thursday – before I had even told her about our chat – and by Saturday lunchtime, five c.v.'s had been emailed to us, all with photos and testimonials.’
‘Anyone promising?’
‘We showed the pictures to Emma and Cat and then we told them which three we had decided to talk to. They all came round yesterday, and we think we know who we want.’
They had just reached Vanessa’s office and Colin handed her a copy of Shelley Mehring’s c.v. – or “Resumé” as it was headed.
‘She looks OK. Did the girls like her?’
‘They liked them all. They can spot someone that will spoil them as twenty paces! But when we talked to them afterwards it was pretty clear that she had their vote. Just as well, really, since Janet and I had pretty well decided.’
‘So when can she start?’
‘She’s interning at the moment – at Last Cairngorm – so we hope she can start right away. Things are pretty fraught, but Janet can take a couple of days off this week to show her the ropes. It’s such a relief!’
*
Fiona Marchmont called just after one o’clock. Vanessa was beginning, somewhat tentatively, to eat an egg and cress sandwich from the canteen. She had stopped feeling sick a couple of hours before and she had chosen egg and cress because that was what she fancied. But she hadn’t taken account of the smell produced by boiled egg, even when it’s mixed with mayo. Still, perseverance was in her nature, and she was hungry. She swallowed a mouthful and picked up the phone.
Fiona wasted no time on pleasantries. ‘We’ve got a meeting with a senior official at the FO tomorrow morning at eleven. I talked to someone in the Crown Office this morning and he’s just got back to me to say that they’ve agreed to a meeting with the Advocate General’s people. They want me there to explain why we need them to intervene. And I want you there to tell them, directly, why it’s so important that you get these emails.’
‘Christ, Fiona, you don’t hang about, do you? I’ll talk to Esslemont, and if he agrees, which he will, but I have to give him his place, I’ll get admin to book us on a plane. Might have to be quite early, though.’
‘That’s fine. Bob can get the kids off to school, and it’s his turn to be home for them tomorrow afternoon’.
‘Bit of a military operation having kids and a job. I’ve just been talking to Colin MacNee. He and Janet are taking on an au pair.’
‘We thought of that, but we’re managing on the basis of my flexitime and the goodwill of his colleagues at the university. Why so interested?’
‘Always concerned for my colleagues.’ She rang off.
*
‘Aisha’s just heard back from Strathclyde about Nuttall. She’s following up on his application to Ebright, so she asked me to let you know what they’ve come up with.’
Vanessa had managed to finish her sandwich and was sipping a cup of camomile tea. ‘Go on, Sara.’
‘They sent a PC to the mailbox shop where Nuttall’s birth certificate was sent to Simon Mathieson. He doesn’t have a box there any more – he only rented it for three months, from mid-April to mid-July – but one of the staff said he recognised the picture of Nuttall as someone who had had a box there. He couldn’t say for sure whether Nuttall was the person he knew as Mathieson, but he was pretty certain he had been there.’
‘Better than nothing, I suppose, but hardly conclusive. I guess we have to find Mathieson, if that’s his real name. I suppose it’s too much to hope that he’s already known to us?’
‘I checked the databases for both Nuttall and Mathieson. Nothing known. Aisha is asking Ebright what checks they make before taking someone on, but uniform have checked all the names we collected on Vermont One and from Ebright and nobody has come up with a record’.
‘I assumed that was the case. Someone would have told me if anything had popped out. Bloody slow progress, this. Not much better on Keller, though I’ve got a meeting in London tomorrow that might help with the emails. Get Strathclyde to do what they can on Mathieson.’
DC Aisha Gajani appeared the door.
‘You know, Aisha, you sort of materialise rather than just coming in. What’ve you got?’
‘Well, Nuttall, or whoever he is, first applied for a job with Ebright in late May. His address was at the mailbox shop we already know about, but it’s quite feasible that his mail was being picked up by Mathieson, because you can have multiple names listed for the same box. I’ve just checked with the shop again, and one of the names listed for the box rented by Mathieson was, you guessed it, Thomas Nuttall. You would have thought that Mathieson, if it was him, would have applied for the birth certificate in Nuttall’s name, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t think ahead to the point where his new identity would apply for a job. Or maybe he thought that Register House might cross-reference to Nuttall's death certificate. Whatever, it’s another link between Nuttall and Mathieson.’
‘And Ebright?’
‘They do a basic criminal records check after they’ve decided to offer someone a job. Nuttall came up clean. I’ve seen his application and he claimed experience, which Ebright didn’t verify, in offshore work. Since Nuttall is dead, I thought I’d see if any of the major employers ever had a Simon Mathieson on their books. Might take a while. Should I carry on with it?’
Vanessa spread her hands in front of her and shrugged. ‘Might as well. Can’t do any harm. And it might help us find him. Now I need to get the DCS to sign off on my trip to London tomorrow. He’ll have to inform the Chief.’
*
Jack Eisner was in his hotel room drafting an email to Cy Packard at Burtonhall HQ when Vanessa Fiske knocked on his door. Colin MacNee was with her.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Eisner. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Vanessa Fiske and this is Detective Inspector Colin MacNee.’ They both showed heir warrant cards and Eisner beckoned them in.
‘We understand that you work for Burtonhall, Mr Eisner, and we would like to ask you some questions. We are investigating the murders at Grampian Royal Hospital and on the Vermont One oil platform, both of which are managed by companies owned by Burtonhall. Are you happy to talk to us?’
Eisner looked uneasy. ‘Sure. But I don’t know what I can tell you. I’ve only been here a few days.’
‘Let’s start with what you do for Burtonhall.’
‘I’m the Director of Security. I report directly to the CEO and he asked me to come over to see if I could help with the PR aspects of the unfortunate events at the hospital and on the rig.’
Colin MacNee looked at him with distaste.
‘“Unfortunate events”? There have been two murders, Mr Eisner. This isn’t a Lemony Snicket adventure.’ Colin caught a glance from Vanessa and backed off.
‘How much do you, and Burtonhall generally, know about what the two dead men, Jamieson and Keller, were doing here?’
‘Almost nothing. Cy Packard, the CEO, takes a close interest in all Burtonhall’s investments. That’s why he sent me over. To find out what’s going on and to protect our reputation.’
‘Come on, Mr Eisner. You’re pretty high paid help for a PR man. Let me ask you directly, have you, or your Mr Packard, seen the emails that Peter Keller sent from the hospital?’
‘No. Burtonhall is not involved in the day-to-day management of the companies it owns. Any reporting would have been directly to Hedelco. And Ebright in the case of the Vermont One.’
‘Could you get them if you wanted to?’
‘I guess Cy could get them. But they would be commercially sensitive. We’d want to keep them confidential.’
Vanessa looked unimpressed. ‘I’m sure you would. But if you haven’t seen the reports, why are you here?’
‘Reputational damage can go to the bottom line. I’m here to try to prevent that happening. And with senior politicians taking an interest, the press coverage will continue. We need to manage that.’
Colin was about to intervene but Vanessa touched his arm.
‘Thank you, Mr Eisner. Please let your CEO know that reputational damage, as you put it, might be less if he ensured that we have sight of Peter Keller’s emails to Hedelco. And please let us know if you intend to leave Aberdeen.’
Eisner had already opened the hotel room door. As they walked down the corridor, Colin again started to speak.
‘Let’s talk in the car, Colin.’ Vanessa said, firmly.
As she got into front passenger seat, Vanessa said, ‘Spit it out. I think I know what it is.’
‘How the fuck does he know that the First Minister has stuck her oar in?’
‘How indeed? He seemed much more certain than press generalisations would justify. We need to find out who’s leaking, and why?’
As Colin started the car, Vanessa turned to him. ‘And what was that about Lemony Snicket?’
‘The girls have been reading it. You get sucked in. You’ll understand eventually.’
*
Not long after the detectives left his hotel room, Eisner reached for his burner to read a text.
DCI trying to get emails. Mtg 2moro in London Foreign Office to discuss getting US govt to help.
Eisner immediately sent this information in an encrypted email to Packard. The response was almost immediate. Packard would talk to his Chairman. It was time to deploy the ex-PM.
*
At 9.23 p.m. that evening, one of Mancuso’s security staff, doing his routine round of inspection at Last Cairngorm, found a suspicious package at the bottom of the indoor ski slope. The slope was housed in one of the buildings that had caused most controversy when the development was under consideration for planning permission by Mid-Aberdeenshire Council. As he had been trained to do, he immediately left the building and began to contact security control by radio. As he was walking away, he was lifted off his feet by the blast from a huge explosion. Apart from some bruising and a sprained wrist, he was unharmed. As he got up, he looked back to see the ski slope building engulfed in flames. As he hurried to the security control room, there was a loud crash as the roof collapsed on to the slope.
*
That same evening, 130 miles south west, in Cumbernauld, the duty IT Manager at Mercury Fulfilment, a US-owned warehousing and distribution centre, providing services to several online retailers, began to get calls from customers who had been unable to order items, and from staff unable to dispatch them. The IT system had become unresponsive. It was failing to accept valid credit and debit cards, returning postcodes as unrecognised, declaring stock items, even when they were clearly visible to warehouse staff, unavailable, and refusing to allow returning customers to log on, apparently because their passwords were invalid.
The IT manager quickly realised that his systems had been hacked into. He called the chief executive and told him that the company was under cyber attack and that if he did not close down the system entirely, the whole business would be at risk.
Customers worldwide began to email and telephone to complain. When the message, “Mercury Fulfilment apologises for the temporary unavailability of its services. We hope to be back online very soon” appeared on an otherwise blank website, messages began to trend on Twitter and other social media asking “WTF is going on at Mercury?”
The first response of the company to press enquiries was to play down the significance of a ‘glitch’ in its systems, but as soon as the IT specialists in press, television and radio got involved, the words ‘cyber attack’ became the entirely accurate shorthand for what had happened to Mercury Fulfilment.
CHAPTER EIGHT
James Michael Roskill - "James" to his colleagues and fellow investors in Burtonhall and the other companies whose boards he adorned, "Mike" to his family and his oldest friends, "RosKILL" to the protesters and campaigners who remembered nothing about his career except the two short and bloody wars in oil-rich Central Asia that his government had waged in defiance of international opinion - had served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom for a little under four years. Before that, he had been Foreign Secretary for six years and, since leaving office and resigning from parliament, he had shown little restraint in using his influence and access in the interests of the businesses through which he was in the process of becoming very rich.
For much of Roskill’s time at the Foreign Office, and throughout his premiership, Sir Justin Carey had been Permanent Secretary at the FO and head of the diplomatic service. Carey was nearing retirement and could look forward to immediate elevation to the House of Lords when he left. Despite the restrictions on the practice of senior civil servants using the so-called "revolving door" between government and private business, it was well known that he was looking around for directorships that would draw on his wide experience of government and international affairs but, more significantly, provide him with a supplement to his already generous pension.
When Eisner told Cy Packard about the meeting at the FO that Fiona Marchmont had engineered, he immediately called Burtonhall’s chairman.
‘Richard, the Scottish police are going to the British Government tomorrow to get them to ask the Feds to put pressure on Hedelco to release the emails that their man sent back from Aberdeen. We need to prevent that. I don’t need to tell you why.’
Richard Seaton had served as Secretary of State under two presidents. His second term had coincided with Roskill’s premiership. They could hardly be described as soul mates: Seaton was a hardcore conservative Republican and Roskill had spent his entire career ducking and weaving around the centre ground of British politics. But their political interests had coincided around what had become known as “liberal interventionism” and they had become very close during the Central Asian wars.
‘What do you need me to do, Cy?’, Seaton asked, in a tone that suggested that he already knew.
‘I need you to talk to Roskill and persuade him to talk to Carey at the British Foreign Office. Carey should be able to call off the dogs.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
*
'James, I know you usually need more time before you try to intervene on our behalf with your high level contacts, but this is serious, and it's urgent. We need you to prevent the Brits going to the US government to get them to put pressure on Hedelco to release the emails that their man sent back from Aberdeen.'
'Not easy, Richard. If this were a simple commercial matter, I would have no reservations about speaking to Carey. But it's a criminal investigation into a particularly unpleasant murder - two murders if we include Vermont One - and it crosses the devolution line. Even after two hundred years, you Americans know how sensitive what you ca
ll "intergovernmental relations" can be. There's a lot of press speculation here about the interest the Scottish First Minister is taking in the police investigation. I'm not sure I want to get into the middle of this.'
'Not like you to be so squeamish. I’ve been approached by several members of the board and, more importantly, by some very big Burtonhall investors. They're getting nervous about the publicity this is generating. We need to try to close it down.'
By All Means (Fiske and MacNee Mysteries Book 2) Page 10
