“OK, we checked out Joshua Murnaghan, the nineteen-year-old who died of an overdose in nineteen-ninety-eight. We spoke to his mother and she seemed to think there was no doubt he killed himself-”
“Why?”
Reggie raised an eyebrow at Liam’s abruptness. He was the only person in the room with as much experience as him and in his book that was what counted, not Liam’s higher rank. His tone of voice said as much.
“If I hadn’t been so rudely interrupted, I was about to say that Mrs Murnaghan said Joshua was gay and he was obsessed with a guy in his class at Uni. The guy was straight and rejected Joshua so harshly that he killed himself. Sad but not sinister.” Liam inhaled to interrupt again but Reggie was having none of it.” And before you ask, no, Jamison wasn’t at university then. Too old. There’s no sign Jamison knew Murnaghan at all. His name meant nothing to the mum.”
He stopped and folded his arms but Liam remained silent for a moment, wary of another slap-down. Finally he risked a question.
“Did the boy leave a note?”
“Aye. And his mum verified the handwriting. It seems like a straightforward broken heart.” He shook his head. “Silly wee boy.”
Annette nodded. “Killing himself over some spotty bloke. What a waste.”
Rhonda’s nod of agreement was a tad too vigorous for Andy’s liking. Those that had them thought of their kids for a moment and then Liam moved it along.
“OK, Annette and Rhonda. You checked out the other suicide, Paul Hamnet. Fire ahead.”
Annette hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to let Rhonda report, but the thoughts of all the “What?s” and “Speak ups” made her carry on.
“OK, Paul Hamnet. Suicide by train in nineteen-ninety-three, when he was twenty-nine years old. He killed himself in Armagh, which is where he was born, but he’d been living in Belfast since eighty-two when he started studying at Queen’s.”
Davy felt a prickle down his spine as she continued.
“He did his basic degree in mathematics and physics with his postgraduate studies in physics applications to-”
“Computing.”
Annette turned towards him. “Yes. What made you say that?”
Instead of answering Davy asked a question. “Was he s…still at Queen’s in ninety-three?”
“Yes. Again how-”
“But even allowing eight years for a BSc degree and doctorate he should have been finished by nineteen-ninety, so that must mean when he died he was on the research s…staff.”
She checked her notes and nodded. “He was. He was doing post-doctoral research and lecturing in physics and I.T.”
Davy turned to Liam. “With Richard Jamison.”
Annette shook her head. “We haven’t got that far yet.”
Liam’s response was to nod the analyst to his computer where a quick search of Hamnet’s and Jamison’s names together yielded a loud whoop. The group gathered around Davy’s desk as a scientific paper appeared on the screen. What also appeared was Jake and Ash. Ash noticed the gathering first.
“What’s happening?”
Davy answered without looking up. “We’ve found a connection between one of our s…suicides and Richard Jamison.” He had a hunch they’d just connected something else as well but he needed to find out what Ash knew first. He glanced at Liam meaningfully and the briefing resumed.
“OK, Jake and Ash, what did you find at Ramsays?”
Jake puffed out his cheeks. “Well, their share price fell through the floor an hour ago.”
“Because of the recent incidents?”
“That and someone speculating they might be happening because their software had been hacked, meaning no equipment in the world that uses their algorithm is safe. The word was all over the factory when we arrived. Some bright spark at the stock exchange obviously connected the fact all the malfunctioning software had used Ramsays’ algorithm, put two and two together and spread the word.”
Annette thought of something. “Does Richard Jamison own shares in Ramsays by any chance?”
Davy shook his head. “No. I’ve seen his portfolio. Although he might have owned some in the past and sold them.”
“But that doesn’t mean our killers know he did-”
Liam cut in. “You’re saying someone’s trying to discredit the algorithm to ruin Jamison financially? Now you’re flipping trying to connect Guthrie’s murder and the ALG case!”
She shrugged. “It was just a hunch. A bad one obviously.”
“OK, all we can say for sure it that whoever’s targeting the software might have something against the owners of Ramsays. It’s worth passing that on to GCHQ.”
He completely missed the look that Davy shot Ash.
“OK, interesting as this all is, it’s not relevant to our murder case so let’s focus back on that. We know that someone is trying to frame Richard Jamison for Dominic Guthrie’s murder, we know Jamison and Guthrie were involved in some hooky financial deal last week and we now know that Jamison was connected in some way to Paul Hamnet, a man who killed himself back in ninety-three.” He turned back to Jake. “Jake, find me any living relatives of Paul Hamnet. If someone’s trying to frame Jamison revenge for his suicide is a possible cause.”
Reggie gave a sceptical sniff, still annoyed at his old friend. “Maybe it’s because of Hamnet’s suicide and maybe it’s not. Could be that Jamison just lost someone some money and they’re the one out to get him. It might be years before we find out.”
Liam hit back. “And maybe we should rule out Hamnet’s family before we start looking for a needle in a bloody haystack!”
Reggie sniffed again. “Fair enough.”
There was some amused murmuring until Liam scanned the room with narrowed eyes.
“Does any other smartass have something they’d like to say?”
Nicky’s husky voice broke the ensuing silence. “Does anyone know how Katy is?”
It chastened them all. Annette nodded.
“I called the unit an hour ago. She’s stable but critical. The chief was with her.”
Andy stopped eating long enough to comment. “He must be wrecked.”
Liam rose to his feet. “Not so wrecked he won’t notice if we’re slacking, so get on with whatever you were doing and…” He gestured to Annette and the analysts. “You three, join me.”
As soon as Craig’s office door had closed Davy started talking. “Ash, did you check the copyright on the ALG?”
Ash yawned. He hadn’t had lunch and hunger always made him tired. “You know I did. That’s how we found Ramsays. Why?”
“How far back did you check?”
At first the slim analyst looked puzzled and then his brown eyes opened wide. “Oh God!”
Liam had been glancing from one to another, now he stopped, as his stomach lurched. “Why, Oh God?” Ash didn’t answer. “Davy, why’s he saying Oh God?”
Davy hesitated, not wanting to land his friend in it. When Liam’s glare said hurry up he caveated his answer with. “We’ve all been so busy you w…won’t have got to this yet, Ash, but sometimes people s…sell copyrights on.”
Annette gawped at him. “You mean someone might have sold the ALG’s copyright to Ramsays? Meaning Ramsays might not have been the intended target of the cyber-attack at all?”
Davy winced. “They still could be. It might mean nothing. But …”
He turned to Ash with an apologetic look.
“It’s just... before you and Jake got back we searched Paul Hamnet’s name with Richard Jamison’s, and I recognised the academic paper that came up. I referenced it in my master’s dissertation-”
Liam cut in. “Get on with it, will you.”
“It was a s…seminal piece on computer algorithms written in ninety-two and they went on to produce some industry applicable work.”
Ash swallowed hard. “Like operating systems?”
Davy nodded, adding hastily. “Our algorithm might have nothing to do with their work, but…�
�� He swallowed hard. “It could be linked, in which case Hamnet, Jamison and the third author of the paper discovered it first and then sold the copyright on-”
Ash cut in. “In twenty-twelve? That’s when it was copyrighted to Ramsays. They paid twenty million for it.”
Davy whistled. “We’re in the wrong job.”
Liam frowned, trying to keep up. “So you’re saying that Hamnet and Jamison-”
“And a third author called Dunn.”
“Might have discovered this algorithm thing in ninety-two and it was sold to Ramsays in twenty-twelve. So where’s it been for the intervening twenty years?”
Ash sprang to his feet. “Off to find out now.”
Davy joined him in a show of solidarity and Liam let them leave, half bewildered and half with his heart sinking. If they were right and the malfunctioning algorithm was the same one that Hamnet and Jamison had discovered in ninety-two there could be a link between their algorithm case and Dominic Guthrie’s murder. Annette went to speak but he stalled her for a moment, striding out to Ash’s desk.
“Help Davy check Katy’s car computer as well.”
“What for?”
“He’ll explain. If you find anything I need to know immediately.”
He returned to Craig’s office and brought Annette up to date.
“So Des thinks something else is going to happen soon?”
Liam nodded.
“Any idea what?”
He shook his head. “Nope. And not a clue how to find out.”
She chided him like a teacher. “Yes, you do. Just work the leads. If the guys confirm the link between the two cases we can amalgamate whatever clues we have, but right now what loose ends do we have?”
He thought for a moment. “The guy in the car.”
“What car?”
A minute later she understood. “OK, so have you viewed the tapes past Stockmans Lane roundabout, on towards Kennedy Way? To see where the Toyota went next?”
Liam’s next sound was a moan. He hadn’t thought further than the lane itself. Maybe he was getting old. Annette read his mind.
“It’s nothing to do with your age; this is just a complex case. OK. I’ll get the tapes for the roundabout and motorway both ways, and for Kennedy Way towards the mountain. You bring up any other images you can find and order in some lunch. There’s no way we’re shifting until we know where that bastard went.”
Chapter Eleven
He’d been really tempted to use the Plan A again; a few taps on a keyboard and a five digit code, then set the timer and Bob’s your auntie; a clean operation with him so far away when it happened that they couldn’t blame him on a thing. That’s if they ever found him of course and there was no sign of that yet. All he needed was eight more hours free and clear, then in a few days they would skip the country for a beach somewhere nice and warm.
But Craig had made using the code too risky now, with his bloody searches of death records and algorithms and whining to the higher ups. He couldn’t risk GCHQ suddenly getting their finger out and blowing his final move. Years of planning gone just because he hadn’t catered for that one risk.
No, there was nothing for it but to activate Plan B. Some plastic explosive on a timer should be enough and a little well-timed phone and radio interference would do the rest. He lay back on the dolly, adjusted his bulky overalls and then signalled for his work experience tutor to pull him in. Just a normal check of a normal plane’s undercarriage by an enthusiastic student, always eager and willing to learn.
****
The C.C.U. 2 p.m.
Annette lifted a spring roll, wondering what had possessed Liam to order Chinese food. There was nothing wrong with it except that she associated such food with Saturday nights at home with her feet up, not Tuesday lunchtime in a shady office while they stared at two grainy screens. Her thoughts were disturbed by the sound of loud chomping followed by a hoovering noise as Liam sucked his full-fat Coke up through a straw. It was like sharing a room with a barnyard animal but unfortunately it had been her in the Monk’s Cell or together in Craig’s office for viewing, and she hadn’t fancied shivering in zero degrees.
She bit into the roll, picturing herself biting into Liam’s head, and leaned forward again to peer at her screen. The Toyota had just reached Stockmans Lane roundabout which had four exits: two to the M1 in and out of town, one exit leading back the way he’d come and one that led up Kennedy Way to three further roads. The Andersonstown Road, the Glen Road, or on up the Monagh By-Pass towards the B38 mountain road. She’d managed to rule out the motorway, which was good and bad, good because one way led to Dublin and an hour would have taken their man across the border, bad because at least the other way they’d have had cameras to follow him all the way through town. That left Kennedy Way and its onward options. The driver had just reached the small Glen Road roundabout when a knock came on the office door. Nicky entered without waiting and immediately wrinkled up her nose.
“This place smells.”
Liam answered her with a noodle dangling from his mouth. “Soy sauce. But it tastes great.”
Annette averted her eyes hastily from his adornment and asked Nicky why she’d come in.
“To warn you. Doctor Winter’s just phoned and said the chief might be in soon, so you’d better open those windows and get out of here.”
Liam kept eating as he talked. “How soon?”
The P.A. gave him a disgusted look and exited with. “No idea.”
Annette rose, taking the hint. “We’d better move to the cell.”
Liam shook his head and waved her back down with his fork. He’d never mastered chopsticks, not that he’d ever really tried. If God had meant people to eat with sticks he’d never have created whoever had invented knives and forks.
“No point. We’ve nearly finished.”
She had to concede that five minutes more would do it so they stayed put until they’d viewed everything and then Liam summarised.
“OK. The Toyota’s plates are false, that much I was able to find out. And the car didn’t turn right after Katy crashed, just carried on down Stockmans Lane.”
Annette rolled her eyes. “I could have told you that. I’ve just followed him as far as the mountain road.”
“What happened then?”
“He went out of camera range. I’ll ask Davy if there’s any footage from further on but my guess is it’s too rural. The patrols will find the car abandoned somewhere along the way. I’ll ask Reggie to go and take a look.”
She made the call then folded her arms in a way that said viewing the tapes had been an hour of wasted time. To her surprise Liam smiled.
“Man, but you’re defeatist today.”
She leaned forward. “You’ve found something?”
He nodded triumphantly. “Only a full face photo of the scrote from a camera at the railway tunnel’s entrance. They must have installed it to stop people getting mugged in the dark.”
He dropped his finger on the keyboard dramatically, sending the image to print, and shouted Nicky to bring two copies in. One minute later they were staring at their protagonist while his image was being run through the Police National Computer. Annette stared at the face of Katy’s possible killer and then shook the thought away immediately. Katy wasn’t going to die, she wouldn’t hear of it. Liam was staring at the face as well and something was niggling at the back of his mind. He’d seen the man before somewhere.
He ran his eyes across the man’s features: thirtyish, square jawed and clean-shaven; nondescript eyes, possibly dark blue but the cameras didn’t use colour film, and cropped jet black hair. He could have been half the young men in Ireland, maybe that was why he thought he’d seen him before? He looked closer at the image and then jumped up, pulling open the door.
“NICKY…”
She winced and scowled up at him. “I’m not deaf!”
He feigned contrition. “Sorry. Do you have a magnifying glass?”
She was puzzled
but curious. “Might have, if you tell me why you want it.”
“To examine that photo you just brought in. I think I’ve seen this git somewhere before.”
She rummaged in her drawer for a moment and produced an old-fashioned glass in a silver handled frame. Very Sherlock Holmes.
“Take care of it. It was my mum’s. Although why you need it I don’t know; you can just blow up the image on your screen.”
Liam wasn’t about to admit that the idea hadn’t occurred to him, nor that he hadn’t a clue how it was done. So, while he theatrically studied the paper copy, he left the two women to tweak the screen shot. All three of them reached the same conclusion.
“His hair’s dyed. It’s got that matt, single tone look.”
Liam glanced at the P.A., a veteran of many colour changes herself. “What you just said. That’s what I thought.”
Annette turned to him eagerly. “Do we have a still of the guy who paid Terry Mallon? The chief said he was wearing a false beard and glasses. Maybe he dyed his hair as well.”
“He was wearing a hat, but we can look.”
They were joined in the office by Davy who’d become curious about all the activity. He obliged them by placing the two images side by side on Liam’s screen.
“They’re the same man!”
Annette gave Liam a ‘we’re not worthy look’. “That’s why you thought you’d seen him before.”
Much as he would like to have taken the credit for such inspiration Liam wasn’t one hundred percent sure that was why he had. His niggling doubt showed in his face.
“That’s not why you thought it?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Let’s go with it for now anyway. So that means the bloke who probably killed Guthrie and framed Jamison for it is the same bloke who ran Katy off the road?” He turned to Davy to cover any doubts. “Have you found the hack in Katy’s car computer?”
Davy’s expression said yes and no. “Maybe… Ash found the same operating algorithm so…”
Liam grabbed the door handle. “Well, what are the odds on that? The five digit thingy must be there as well.” In two strides he was by Ash’s desk, followed by Annette. “Where’s my hack?”
The Talion Code Page 29
