“Let's watch this,” I said. “It will explain my problem.” I got the barman to turn up the volume and we wondered over to sit down near the set. After a few minutes a photo of Adrian appeared on the screen with the news that police were seeking the help of the public to find a young man, Adrian Lever, whom they have reason to believe may have been kidnapped, etc.
“That is your brother?” Said Stewart. “I'm sorry to learn what is happening, but how can I help?”
“I think you have connections in to the security services and I believe that it is the security services either directly or in conjunction with the CIA or other American Services who have organised his kidnap.”
“That is an incredible accusation Mr Lever. I am also afraid that you are mistaken, I do not have any connections of that nature, why would I?”
“Look I am desperate, they have kidnapped him to stop him revealing some images he hacked from a US government website. I am worried he may now just disappear.”
“You have been reading too many fiction novels, Mr Lever. Things like that don't happen in real life in this country.”
“I think there is enough evidence circulating, even if much of it is from unofficial sources, to make such suspicions potentially credible. The frustrating thing is that I don't know who they are so I can't talk to them. They need to know that if any harm comes to Adrian then the information they don't want revealed will be published around the world and they won't be able to stop that regardless of what happens to us. I thought you might be able to give that message to the right people in the system.”
“Mr Lever, you have a good imagination, I don't have connections with such people even if they exist.”
“Do you know of a Peter Asimov, a company called Mendip Finance, and a company called Dalrymple.”
“I have heard of Peter Asimov, as have most people who read the business news, and you know that I am aware that Mendip Finance have made overtures to buy your company. Dalrymple is an American competitor of yours who would dearly love to get MoD business. Are you saying they are in anyway connected with the disappearance of your brother?”
“It appears that they may be connected to some violent attacks on me and threats to my colleagues in recent weeks.”
“That sounds incredible, do you have evidence?”
“The evidence is tenuous but my gut-feel is that it is true.”
“Gut-feel Mr Lever! Surely you should have something more than 'gut-feel' to make such an accusation?”
“Do you know an Inspector Naismith? I believe he is in Special Branch.”
“Mr Lever, as I keep telling you I have no connection with the security services or police so I don't know him.”
I sighed. “Well it appears I may have wasted your time.”
“Look Mr Lever, it is not surprising that the stress of your brother disappearing might lead you to jump to some wild conclusions, but that I would suggest, is what they are. I am sorry I cannot help more. I have a friend in Special Branch and will talk to him, but I don't hold out much hope that I can help. I have to go, I am sorry if you feel your journey up here was wasted.” With that he got up, we shook hands and I left.
Perhaps he is right I thought as I walked back to my car. Maybe I am letting my imagination run away with me! But no! I did not imagine the beatings, the car 'accident', the disappearance of Adrian, etc. No, this has to be followed through aggressively. I drove more sedately back to Bristol and home. It then occurred to me. Where was Jason, I had 'lost' him this morning and he was probably feeling put out that I had not been in touch. I called him, he was back at the house, and I told him I would be home shortly.
CHAPTER 30
After Martin Lever had left the Randolph Hotel, Stewart put in a call. “Sir, I think there may be a bit of a situation developing which while not directly involving me I feel obliged to let you know about.”
“Can it wait until the morning?” said Ridley. “Or do we need to discuss it now? Good so it can wait? My office at 9am, see you then.”
The next morning Stewart met with Ridley and told him about his conversation with Lever. “Sir, I don't know the background to this, and Naismith is a good officer, if somewhat aggressive and opinionated. I think he is acting on orders from above and I was not sure that you were aware of what is going on.”
“Dawson, you mean?”
“Yes, you know how close he is to the Yanks and this smells of US clandestine activity.”
“OK, I will follow it up, thanks. Dawson is actually in the US at the moment so it will have to wait until Monday.”
CHAPTER 31
Back in Bristol, I went in to the office, Jason tagging along. It was Saturday but there was no news about Adrian and there was loads of work waiting to be done so I thought I might as well get on with it. Alec was also in so we had a chat over coffee and then I went and buried myself in the outstanding paperwork that June had left out on my desk. I reviewed and tweaked the PowerPoint she had prepared for my student lecture; quite an impressive presentation, she had done well. I must remember to compliment her on Monday.
A full in tray, and the results of the stress testing on ForceNet were coming in and the results so far looked good, in fact better than I had expected.
I called Lloyd and found that he also was at work. No news on Adrian, but there had been a sizeable response to the TV appeal. There was one witness report of an incident in Pill where a driver of a car matching the description of my MG had apparently been taken ill and another driver had moved him to his car presumably to take him to a doctor or hospital. There were no corresponding hospital admissions so this could be evidence that Adrian had been abducted not assisted as assumed by the witness. However there were no indications of where Adrian could be now and the only thing the witness could remember was that the car behind the MG had been red, possibly a Ford.
“That sounds like the car that intercepted Jason,” I said.
“Yes it does,” said Lloyd. “Unfortunately the traffic cameras leading on to the motorway where your Jason had his altercation were at the wrong angle to pick up the registration of that car; however digital enhancement of the image has come through and enabled us to identify the driver as Reginald Archer, the other London based heavy that you previously identified when you came in and went through mug shots. We will pick him up if we can find him. The other heavy that Jason so adequately disabled was the big guy, Jackie Peterson, that you also identified from mug shots.”
“Yes it sounded like him, have you picked him up.”
“No, we have not found him yet, which is surprising as that arm would need treatment and we have an alert out at all local hospitals.”
“Thanks for the update anyway,” I said, and hung up.
I worked for the rest of the afternoon then went out and found Jason and told him that I was going home and that I would be having an early night.
On Sunday I rose early. It was a bright and sunny day and having checked and found that there was no new info on email or voicemail decided I needed to get some fresh air and that a game of golf would probably take my mind off things.
I loaded clubs in to the car and set off to the club. Sunday is usually a very busy day but the Pro said he was sure he could squeeze me in with another group if I gave him some time. He was as good as his word and half an hour later I was on the first tee facing in to a stiff breeze coming up the fairway towards me. This would get rid of the cobwebs!
The Pro had matched me up with a single, a visitor to the area, who therefore did not know the course. That advantage did not help me however. I play off a respectable handicap of 8 but I was really rusty, I had not hit a golf ball for weeks. My playing partner visitor claimed a handicap of 10 and proceeded to thrash me. I bought him a drink in the bar afterwards and then set off home.
At home I decided to do some work in the garden. I am not a keen gardener with green fingers, but I enjoy organising gardens as part of the process of refurbishing a house, and this house I
had refurbished, or had paid someone else to refurbish, right from scratch.
The house was an old 17th century barn which when I bought it a few years ago had been partly converted. It had an old well in the small front courtyard and the remains of cow byres to one side. However the house was on cesspit drainage when I bought it and those who have experience of cesspit drainage will know how unsatisfactory it can be, particularly after heavy rain. The whole upstairs of the barn had previously been converted to domestic accommodation, but the downstairs remained little more than garage space. So I had put in mains drainage, stairs down to the lower level of bedrooms, two modern bathrooms, and a modern kitchen. The resulting house was an upside down house in that to enter you climbed a set of outside steps to a porch over the front door and the living rooms were on the first floor. One then went down the internal stairs to the bedrooms. The old stone walls were more than two feet thick and helped maintain a steady temperature summer and winter. The lounge had a high vaulted roof, but spaced down the room there were two of the original horizontal 15 inch square wooden cross beams at a height of five foot ten inches which meant that someone like me at 6 foot plus, had to duck in the appropriate places when crossing the room. Quirky, but I loved it, it was quiet out in the countryside and the log fire in the lounge in winter was really welcoming.
Jason came out in to the garden. “You went off without me this morning?” he said.
“Yes, I felt like a game of golf and didn't think it was necessary to get you up.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You don't have to but if you have nothing better to do you can give me a hand. I plan to spend the afternoon working on the old cow byres. I use them as storage sheds for the lawn mower and other tools, but the old stone walls are starting to crumble and need repair.
Coming back in to the house, as it got dark, I was exhausted and had a shower.
Returning to the lounge I shouted to Jason who was in the shower, “Jason do you want a beer?”
“Please.”
“I am going to be boring and do my standard pasta for dinner. Will that be Ok for you?”
“Sure, although you don't have to cater for me.”
“That’s OK, but I am pretty wacked so I will disappear to bed for an early night afterwards.”
“OK, let me contribute by washing up.”
“Suits me.”
Before I could get to bed however there was a phone call. The caller refused to identify himself but in an American drawl said. “I have been asked to give you a message. Watch the news on TV, this changes everything for you and your brother.” He then hung up.
I immediately grabbed the remote and switched on the TV to get the news and had to impatiently sit there waiting for it to come back on as it went through its countdown process to the hour.
The breaking news was a report that last night the Vice President of the United States, while attending a function at the White House had been struck down by a heart attack. He had been rushed to a specialist heart unit in Washington but was reported dead on arrival.
Wow! I thought. Where does that leave us all? The caller said it changes everything. What will happen now? The call in effect confirms that they have Adrian.
I called Lloyd and told him of the call and the news.
“Well, that tends to confirm the kidnap theory and even the possible security service involvement, doesn't it?”
“Yes, but what do we do now?”
“Be patient and wait, would be my advice,” said Lloyd.
“Difficult,” I said, “but in reality I cannot think of anything I can do anyway.”
Before going to bed I went on-line to get the news in more detail and was surprised to learn that there was a lot of speculation in the underground press that the vice president had killed himself. Suicide? Surely not; there was no official comment on this speculation. If it was true, why?
CHAPTER 32
The next morning, Ridley walked in to Dawson’s office and closed the door. “Good trip to the States Gerry?” he enquired.
“Not bad, got back in yesterday afternoon.”
“You've heard about the Vice President I assume?”
“Yes, poor bugger.”
“Well I think he might just have saved you,” his voice markedly hardening in tone.
Dawson looked up, “what do you mean?”
“I understand that you have been running an op. here with our American friends without telling me? Don't deny it, I know the details.”
“Nothing major,” Dawson responded.
“Nothing major! You don't call kidnap and a possible rendition major! Are you kidding?”
Dawson was silent.
“I told you the last time you went off the rails like this that there would be trouble if it happened again. You will be lucky if you don't find yourself in a cell, it depends how well disposed towards you I am feeling when you have had a chance of cleaning this up.”
“You will do exactly as I say or I will come down on you like a ton of bricks. Get Lever released unharmed. Make sure neither he nor his brother release that video footage. And disappear all of your operatives on this job so they cannot be the subject of embarrassing interviews or confessions. Do this now and report back to me personally every day until it is completed.” With that Ridley turned and walked out of the office.
CHAPTER 33
In the meantime I had been in the office Monday morning and was called by Lucy Pageant to say that she had been unable to get hold of Alec but that she had set up lunch with the Dalrymple CEO at the Blue Parrot for 12.30, would Alec and I mind making our own way.
“No problem,” I had said, “but Alec would like our Financial Director Bill Williams to come as well, I assume that is OK?”
“Fine,” she responded, “see you at 12.30.”
I asked June to find Alec and give him the message and to organise a taxi to get us to the Blue Parrot.
The Blue Parrott is one of the oldest pubs in Bristol, with a history going back as far as the 17th century. It has a pleasant restaurant, and the advantage that the seating is arranged in booths that permit private conversations.
When we got there, Lucy was waiting for us in the bar with two gentlemen. The first was tall with dark hair and I recognised him from the company publicity blurb as the CEO of Dalrymple, Mark Winter; the other was a much shorter pugnacious looking individual whom I did not recognise but turned out to be Dalrymple’s CFO. After the introductions were complete and drinks ordered, we were led through to our table.
Once settled and a few pleasantries exchanged Lucy started the ball rolling.
“I am glad you gentlemen have an opportunity to meet, I think you could have a lot in common. It is appreciated that this is just an exploratory meeting but it is my belief, and that of my colleague Ron Armstrong, that there are a lot of potential synergies between your two companies. Control Networks are strong in the UK, Europe, and parts of Asia and Africa while Dalrymple has a very strong presence in North and South America, but particularly with the Pentagon in the US. So you have complementary market strengths and with similar product and technology assets, working together in some way could be beneficial for all shareholders.”
Bill Williams interrupted at this point. “Alec I think we need to remind everyone here that our stock goes public on Thursday of this week so we are not in a position to have any meaningful discussions which should be declared to the market. This session can only be a get to know you session and should I suggest be limited to that and an exchange of general information on where each company stands and is heading.”
“I regret that Bill is right Lucy, we need to be very careful. It is of course good to have the opportunity to meet but we need to keep it general. Mark, how about giving us a rundown on the history of Dalrymple, and maybe I could then do the same for Control Networks.”
“OK,” said Mark, “I fully understand the delicacy of your position.”
The lunch conve
rsation then proceeded on that basis and it turned out to be pleasant enough. When it finally broke up, we had all got to some extent to know our opposite numbers and we invited them to come and see us at the office when they were next in town.
Alec had a quiet word with Lucy on the way out. “Sorry if that did not quite go the way you wanted Lucy, but I did warn Ron that meaningful discussions would not be possible.”
“That’s OK Alec, thanks for finding the time at what I know is a very busy period for you. I still think that having this meeting was worthwhile.”
“One final thing,” Alec said taking Lucy to one side, “are you aware that Dalrymple and Mendip Finance may, in the murky entrails of their ownership structure, have common ownership?”
“No, I wasn't, that is interesting. Why would they want to invest in you if they already have links to one of your big competitors?
“It can't be that they need us to fund them, I suspect the rumours may be right and they have a product development/technology problem going forward.”
“Well, that gives us something to think about, in the meantime we have at least broken the ice, and next time, if there is a next time, we can get in to more substantive issues.”
“Good luck for Thursday.” She said as she joined the Dalrymple guys in a taxi.
Back at the office I filled Alec in on the events of the last 24 hours. “Now I just hope they will release Adrian and we will hear from him soon.”
There was however no news and Thursday arrived. The brokers advised that the issue had been substantially over subscribed and they were accepting subscriptions for up to another 10% of our shares as agreed.
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