Kathy’s phone rang as she was getting ready to leave the office for home. She recognised his voice, and sank back into her chair. ‘Tom. I’ve been trying to reach you.’
‘Yes, I know. I’ve been very busy. There’s been so much to do.’ He sounded elated,speaking fast.‘Did you see it?’
‘Yes, we all did.’
‘What did you think?’
‘I think you’re going about it the wrong way.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re a serving police officer.’
‘There are higher loyalties than that. To the truth, for instance. This is the only way. They left me no choice.’
There was a pause, then Kathy said,‘Brock told me about your second wife.’
‘Did he? I didn’t think he knew . . . I’m sorry, I almost told you several times, but then I held back. It didn’t seem relevant to us.’
‘Wasn’t it? Isn’t it what this is all about?’
‘Is that what Brock’s saying? Listen, Kathy-’ he was angry now-‘what I’m doing is getting at the truth, the only way I can, the only way they’ve left me. I’m sorry you can’t be with me on that.’
‘Tom, you-’ But the line was dead.
TWENTY-FIVE
The media were full of the story over the weekend, their appetite for scandal only sharpened by the refusal of any of the players to speak to them. For the moment they didn’t identify the Roaches by name, but there were clear hints that as soon as witnesses were called before the committee, their names would be published and the whole story brought out into the open. There was a great deal about Michael Grant, his background and his history of campaigning for the underprivileged.
On Monday morning the TV channels were carrying pictures of scenes outside the Houses of Parliament as reporters tried to get access to the committee meeting and to catch participants for comment. It seemed that some agreement had been reached to broadcast the session live on TV, and one of the channels was promising coverage during its morning news show. The picture was clearer than on the webcast, and in Queen Anne’s Gate, just a couple of hundred yards away, someone had fixed up a TV in the main office, around which people were clustering.
As the committee members took their seats Kathy had the impression that the mood was different from that on Friday, less informal and congenial.When Margaret Hart opened the session she sounded sombre. She reminded them of the duties and powers of the committee, and called upon them to use these responsibly.
‘Mr Hadden-Vane has asked to address the meeting.’
The MP acknowledged her with a nod, and when he spoke his voice was harsh and forceful, with none of the empty bluster of before.
‘On Friday we were confronted by an unprecedented accusation against a British company, and evidence of criminal activity on a huge scale. Since then I, like all of my colleagues, have been trying to form a dispassionate assessment of this shocking evidence. In the short time that’s been available to me, I have been able to discover several witnesses who can throw further light on it. It is crucial that the committee hear what they have to say, and I beg leave to call these witnesses immediately.’
The room was very still.
‘They are here?’ Hart asked.
‘Yes.’
‘You know the normal procedure for calling witnesses, Mr Hadden-Vane,’ the Chair frowned.‘The committee will need notice . . .’
‘When he interrupted our agenda on Friday, Mr Grant claimed that what he had to say was of such importance that the committee should suspend its normal procedures and we agreed. I claim the same latitude. People’s reputations are at stake here. Mr Grant has made this a matter of extreme urgency.’
Hart looked around the room, taking in nodding heads. ‘Very well.’
‘Thank you. The first witness is Mr Steven Bryce.’ Kathy stiffened and turned to Brock.‘The boss of the plastics
company that went bust. The one that was overseas.’
Hadden-Vane turned to speak to the Clerk and handed him a sheet of paper.While they waited for him to bring in the witness, the MP went on,‘Madam Chair,I propose that my witnesses give their evidence on oath. I know this is unusual, but Mr Grant proposed that his witnesses should do this and I don’t want mine to be seen as any less credible.’
‘This is not a competition, Mr Hadden-Vane,’ Margaret Hart snapped.‘And they are the committee’s witnesses, not yours or Mr Grant’s. However, under the circumstances, it may be advisable.’
A slight, rather anxious-looking man came into the picture, and was shown by the Clerk to the witness table across the end of the horseshoe, facing the Chair.
‘Mr Bryce,’ Margaret Hart said, leaning forward and smiling warmly at him. ‘I understand you’re willing to assist this committee with your testimony, is that correct?’
The man cleared his throat and said yes.
‘It has been proposed that you give your evidence under oath. If you do so, you will be liable to the laws of perjury. Do you have any objection to this?’
‘No, that’s been explained to me. I don’t mind.’ The man’s flat Midlands accent was distinct.
The Clerk stepped forward and Bryce took the oath, then Hadden-Vane spoke.
‘I’d like to place on record our appreciation to Mr Bryce for attending today. He was overseas when we were finally able to contact him yesterday, and he came back immediately when he understood the seriousness of the situation. Mr Bryce, were you the managing director of PC Plastics of Solihull?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Your company ceased trading last December, is that correct? Would you describe what it did before that.’
‘We were a small company, manufacturing a variety of plastic components for customers, mainly retail outlets.’
‘Was the Paramounts off-licence chain one of your customers?’
‘We did several jobs for them, yes.’
‘Now I’m showing Mr Bryce the order for 50,000 brown plastic sheaths that was included in the documents Mr Grant provided on Friday. Do you recognise this, Mr Bryce?’
‘You showed it to me last night, when I got back from Poland.’
‘Will you tell us your reaction, please?’
‘I’d never seen it before.’
‘You’re quite certain? Would you have seen every order that came into your company?’
‘Absolutely.We never received this order.’
There was a stir of consternation in the room. Michael Grant was staring at the witness, a frown on his face.
‘Have you any other comment on the document?’ Hadden-Vane went on.
‘Well, that’s certainly our name and address at the top, but the rest looks pretty odd to me. In the first place, I don’t think we’d have been capable of carrying out such an order.We did fibreglass mouldings, some vacuum forming, generally small-scale, short runs-shop signs, display stands, promotional material, that sort of thing. I’d say this job would have needed a large injection moulding machine.We’ve never had one of them.’
‘I see. Anything else?’
‘Well, the letterhead is Paramounts’ London head office, but we never had correspondence with them before.We always dealt with their regional office in Birmingham.’
‘Right.What about the signature at the bottom of the order, that of Mr Ivor Roach?’
‘I’ve heard of Mr Roach, but I’ve never had any dealings with him. I wouldn’t know if that’s his signature or not.’
Hadden-Vane beamed.‘Thank you.That’s all I wanted to ask, Mr Bryce.’
Margaret Hart asked if anyone had further questions, and all heads turned to Michael Grant. He seemed stunned and didn’t react for a moment, then said,‘Your company went out of business in December, you said?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘You’re in financial trouble, are you?’
Hadden-Vale exploded.‘That’s irrelevant and insulting!’
‘It’s all right,’ Bryce said mildly. He smiled at Grant. ‘I’m
not down on my uppers, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I own eight other companies that are doing very nicely, thanks. I just decided to get out of plastics. It’s an overcrowded field.’
‘Thank you very much, Mr Bryce,’ the Chair said hurriedly, raising her eyebrows at Grant. ‘I don’t think we have any other questions.We’re most grateful.’
Hadden-Vane’s next witness was a document expert. His credentials were impeccable-formerly head of documents section in the Police Forensic Science Laboratory, now in private practice and well known to Brock and several of the other detectives in the office. His evidence was brief and decisive. He had examined the signatures on the order to PC Plastics and the handwriting on the summary sheet, and had compared them with dozens of samples of Ivor Roach’s signature and handwriting taken from other documents, and declared Michael Grant’s material to be forgeries. When the rumpus that this provoked had died down, he added the dryly amused comment that it seemed a little odd that the Para-mounts letterhead used on these forgeries was obviously old stock, since the telephone and fax numbers listed in small print at the bottom of the pages predated the change in the London codes.
‘From your long experience, could you make any general observations on these forgeries?’ Hadden-Vane invited.
‘Well, I’d say the forger was either incompetent or in a big hurry.’
Michael Grant didn’t ask any questions.
A third witness, an office manager from Paramounts’ London head office, confirmed that the letterhead design in Grant’s documents hadn’t been used for at least four years. She had been unable to trace any record of the order to PC Plastics.
By now a new mood had settled over the committee members. They no longer shook their heads in astonishment at each new revelation from Hadden-Vane’s witnesses, but instead focused more and more openly on Grant to see how he was reacting. It seemed to Kathy that the spaces on either side of his seat had widened.
‘I’ve had less than seventy-two hours to demolish Mr Grant’s so-called evidence against Paramounts and the Roach family,’ Hadden-Vane said. ‘Given more time and resources and expertise than I possess, I’ve no doubt that much more could be uncovered. But I think we’ve heard enough.’ There were murmurs of agreement around the table.‘I believe I’ve established the “What” -a number of forged papers have been added to a file of real documents relating to a legitimate consignment of beer from Jamaica to the UK to give the appearance of a criminal act. Our colleague was then persuaded to put this rather crude deception before us and broadcast it in the public domain under cover of parliamentary privilege. But that’s only part of the story.We must also discover the “How”and the “Why”.I now call on the Member for Lambeth North to explain to the committee exactly how and from whom he obtained the documents in his report.’
There was a long silence while the two men held each other’s eyes, Michael Grant with a look of loathing apparent even on the small screen. Then he turned to Margaret Hart and said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do that.’
A murmur of disapproval grew steadily louder.
‘I understand,’ Hadden-Vane pressed on, ‘that a departmental select committee cannot order a Member of the House to appear before it as a witness under oath,but I nevertheless invite the member for Lambeth North to volunteer himself to do so now.’ By the end of this sentence he had to raise his voice to an angry shout to make himself heard over the hubbub. ‘Madam Chair,’ he roared, ‘Michael Grant’s failure to respond amounts to a deliberate contempt of this committee and of the House!’ He let the turmoil seethe around him for a while, until it looked as if the Chair was about to act, then he cut in, ‘Nevertheless, we are not entirely dependent on his cooperation.’
The noise died away as people registered this.
‘I have here a piece of written evidence provided by another witness that may help us understand just how this was done.’ He held a piece of paper dramatically aloft.‘This sworn testimony has been provided by a member of the Roach family. Given the public libel against her family by Mr Grant, she is reluctant to appear here in person, and asks that her name not be released.When you read what she has to say, you will appreciate why. She feels embarrassed and humiliated by the story she has to tell, but tell it she does, because she feels she must. Let us call her “Ms A”. She describes how she, a recently divorced and emotionally vulnerable young woman, met a personable man at a nightclub. She met him again on a number of subsequent occasions, seemingly by accident, and he befriended her and gained her trust.
‘Then, just last week, this charming fellow persuaded Ms A to take him home with her,to her parents’house where she was living, her parents being overseas at the time. The man had given her a great deal to drink during the evening, and she agreed. Once there he offered her drugs, which she declined. However, she believes he gave her something because she became disoriented and fell asleep. At some stage she woke up and went to the bathroom, and on the way she saw him in her father’s office, using the photocopier. I have subsequently learned from her father,a director of Paramounts,that in his office he had a file of documents relating to that company’s importation of Dragon Stout to the UK. Madam Chair, I table this statement, which has been witnessed by a lawyer, for consideration by the committee.’
He handed the letter to the Clerk at his shoulder, and then, as if all this was costing him enormous personal effort, he snatched the blue handkerchief from his top pocket with a great flourish and dabbed at the pink dome of his head.
It was the second time he had reminded Kathy of Martin Connell’s story, and as she watched him Kathy was struck by the sudden certain knowledge that this was the MP Martin had described, and that his tale had not been told at random, but had been a quite deliberate message to her. Martin Connell, the Roaches’ lawyer,whose signature was no doubt on Magdalen’s statement,had known two weeks ago that this scene was going to be played out, and had wanted Kathy to recognise it when it came. She swore softly, then tried to tell herself that this was impossible.
‘Kathy?’ Brock was looking at her curiously.
She was about to speak when Margaret Hart’s voice cut through the noise in the committee room. ‘I believe we should take a twenty-minute break-’
‘If you please, Madam Chair, I believe that we should not!’
Hadden-Vane’s extraordinary remark silenced everyone, including Hart,whose frown became angry.But he went on.‘The writer of the statement I have just tabled has identified the man who took advantage of her. He is here in this room. I do not think we should give him the opportunity to slip away during a break.
I demand that he take the witness chair immediately and explain
himself.’
‘What a showman,’ someone murmured.
Kathy felt sick, realising what was coming, and feeling as if it was on her rather than Tom Reeves that the blow was about to fall.
‘You, sir!’ Hadden-Vane pointed theatrically off-camera, and everyone turned and craned to see.
‘No!’Michael Grant seemed suddenly to emerge from a torpor. ‘I insist that we discuss . . .’ But it was too late, the end of his sentence drowned out by the noise of voices and scraping chairs as the committee got to their feet. Slowly Tom came into view, Hadden-Vane triumphant at his side, as if displaying a prize. At the other end of the table,Margaret Hart,apparently dazed by the twists and turns of his melodramatic performance, was hurriedly consulting with the Clerk. Finally, as Tom stood in front of the witness table,she said,‘Ladies and gentlemen,it is within our power to order a witness to appear and give evidence. Is it your wish that we do so in this case?’
The cry of assent was overwhelming, and everyone hurried back to their seats. For a brief moment, only Tom and Michael Grant remained standing,and as Brock watched the MP hesitate,he wondered if he was thinking that the slum boy from the Dungle had finally been caught red-handed among the gilt picture frames and Gothic wall panelling of the immortals.
TWENTY-SIX
&nb
sp; ‘Give us your full name, please.’
‘Thomas Reeves.’
‘What do you do for a living, Mr Reeves?’
‘I’m a police officer.’
A groan went around the office at Queen Anne’s Gate at that, but Kathy knew that Tom had no choice-Hadden-Vane already knew, and she saw that Brock realised that too.
‘Of what rank?’
‘Inspector.’
‘And in what section?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘Special Branch, perhaps?’ Hadden-Vane suggested grimly. ‘You do undercover work, don’t you? Like befriending young women and persuading them to take you home with them?’
Tom didn’t respond.
‘Why did you befriend Ms A?’
Again Tom didn’t answer, but this time a restive grumble came from several parts of the table and Hart spoke up. ‘You must answer, Inspector Reeves.’
‘I was seeking evidence in relation to an investigation.’
‘Did you have a search warrant?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘And were you instructed by your superiors to befriend Ms A or search her house?’ Hadden-Vale said quickly, reluctant to let anyone else take over his role as interrogator.
‘No.’
‘And this investigation, it’s been approved, has it? It is official?’
Tom hesitated, glanced at the Chair, who peered back at him as if trying to place where she’d seen him before.
‘Not at present.’
‘So you inveigled your way into Ms A’s house without authorisationon a case of your own invention,broke into her father’s study, photocopied his private business papers, stole some letterheads that unfortunately happened to be out of date, and forged-’
‘No!’ Tom interrupted, but Hadden-Vane continued relentlessly.
‘-forged additional documents to create an incriminating body of evidence.’
‘Those documents were all exactly as I found them. I didn’t manufacture any of them.’
The MP shook his head as if that wasn’t worthy of a reply. ‘I noticed you were sitting next to Mr Grant’s research officer just now,’ he said.‘How long have you known Mr Grant?’
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