by Sibel Hodge
‘You need to stop punishing yourself. You’re only human. You were doing what you thought was right at the time.’
‘Yes, and Alex and so many others paid the price for that misconception. They’re still paying. I defended Queen and country because I was a patriot, because I wanted to make the world a better place, because I thought I was defending honour and integrity. How wrong was I? I’m just as culpable of committing war crimes now because I bought into it for too long. The cost of my actions in the name of loyalty is so high it can never be repaid.’ His lips narrowed to a thin line.
‘You don’t really believe that, do you? You can’t be held responsible for everything you did.’
‘Who else can, then?’ He stared at me as if I didn’t have a clue what I was talking about before his gaze drifted towards his wallet next to the kettle. ‘I kept one photo, though. It’s there when I need it.’
‘Where did you get the gun?’
‘Iraq was brimming with weapons after the fall of Saddam Hussein. It’s a gun culture over there, and every man of legal age was expected to own an AK, as a sort of stand-by militia. When I was down in Basra one time, we were working with the Iraqi Army, and one of them gave me this Glock. Ironically, it’s a British-issued one, given to the Police Academy in Basra as part of a military training package. It wasn’t hard to get it back to the UK.’
‘So it’s illegal?’
‘Depends on your definition.’ He shrugged. ‘The law is set by the people in power and look how that’s going so far for us. Lots of things are legal. Doesn’t make them ethically or morally right, though.’
The dawn light began to creep in behind the curtains. I glanced at the clock, which read 6.12 a.m. A new day. The earlier shock and fear of the previous night had been replaced by rabid rage.
I wouldn’t be beaten. They would not beat me.
Somehow I was going to stay alive long enough to see this through.
~~~~
As soon as it was 9.00 a.m., I called Alistair’s private mobile phone number he’d given me. A number he’d assured me was secure and safe. Now I wasn’t so sure.
‘Hi, it’s Jane. I’ve got a problem.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. What’s happened?’ His voice oozed genuine concern.
‘My house was broken into yesterday. They made it look like a burglary, but it was more like a statement. I think someone was making sure I didn’t have any copies of what I gave to you.’
He was silent for a moment, taking it in. ‘Have you reported it to the police?’
I gave a hollow laugh. ‘No. There’s no point. They’re not going to find any evidence, are they?’ I told him about the anonymous text I’d received. ‘So there’s no doubt it was someone protecting those psychopaths. It’s been months since the police launched Operation Highland to supposedly investigate that evidence. Why hasn’t anything happened yet? I’m running out of time here, Alistair. They know I’m involved now. How long will it be before I’m killed, too?’
‘I’m as frustrated as you. I’ve been trying to arrange a strategy meeting with top-ranking officers as a matter of urgency, but I’m being fobbed off. I’m not letting it go, though. I’m not giving up. I’ll do some more chasing up today.’
‘Isn’t there anything else you can do? It’s obvious an investigation is being stalled. These are serious offences! The police have undeniable evidence in their possession. The truth needs to come out!’ My voice rose, and I tried to calm down. Shouting at one of my few allies wasn’t going to help. I dug my fingernails into my palm. ‘Why can’t you name them using parliamentary privilege?’ Simon had told me during one of our meetings that under British Constitutional Convention, comments made in Parliament were protected from any libel action. ‘At least then their names will be out in the open and they can’t hide anymore and I’ll be safe!’
‘I understand how you feel, believe me. I feel the same. But there are proper procedures in place that must be followed. I can’t use parliamentary privilege at this stage, otherwise I’ll be in serious danger of compromising or prejudicing any police investigation.’
‘There is no investigation! And in the meantime, these people are swanning around Westminster. You know who they are. You see them regularly. You know what they’ve done. How can—’
‘I’m well aware of that, and I don’t like it any better than you, but we have to make sure the police have every opportunity to pursue evidence and track down witnesses. I’m not ruling out naming them in Parliament if nothing happens with an investigation, but I have to follow the rules and wait to see what happens.’
I rubbed at the angry, pulsing vein in my temple.
‘I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But getting angry isn’t going to help matters.’
He was right. I knew he was right. I was letting my desperation get in the way. I had to stay calm and be objective. Try to detach myself from what these men had done and what they’d taken from me. From other innocent victims. But I was so scared now.
I took a panicked breath and held on to it, clenching my teeth.
‘I’ll do some chasing up today and get back to you as soon as I have some answers, okay?’
‘Yes. Look, I’m sorry for losing my temper. I just hate the thought of them getting away with it all.’
‘Believe me, neither can I. And I won’t stand for it.’
Two hours later, when I was online in the chat rooms, posing as a ten-year-old boy and talking to disgusting perverts, Alistair called back and asked to meet.
Somewhere neutral. Somewhere walls couldn’t have ears.
Chapter 44
We took the underground from Southgate to Wood Green, then we caught a bus to Alexandra Palace, rather than drive there. All the better to spot if someone was following us and shake them off.
‘We just have to hope no one tailed Alistair,’ Mitchell said as we walked to the pre-arranged meeting spot, taking random routes and doubling back again, our eyes alert and scanning the area.
Alistair was already on the bench in the surrounding parkland, nursing a cup of takeout coffee. His tie hung loosely around his neck, a weariness etched on his face. He looked as if he’d aged twenty years since I’d first met him. I knew the feeling.
We observed him for a while from the cover of some trees, watching to see if someone was watching him. Finally satisfied, Mitchell took one last glance around before pressing one hand between my shoulder blades and steering me towards the bench, indicating it was okay.
‘Morning,’ Alistair said as we sat down. ‘I wish I could say it was a good one, but unfortunately, I have more disturbing news. Ted Byron is dead.’
I shook my head in angry disbelief. So the children’s home inspector would escape justice, too, now. ‘Let me guess. Another well-timed suicide?’
‘No. A car accident this time. Apparently his brakes failed, and he ran head first into a tree.’
‘God,’ I said, unable to decide if I was glad or not. Yes, he was dead, which could only make the world a better place, but he’d escaped the weight of the law in the process.
‘I don’t think He can help us with this,’ Alistair muttered.
Mitchell said something under his breath. Judging by his expression, I imagined it contained a few swear words. He jigged his leg up and down, blinking rapidly as he stared at the ground. ‘So many people dead over this.’ He ran his hands over his face.
Alistair shifted in his seat. ‘I don’t think this is ever going to see the light of day. The forces at the top want this buried deep. I believe this goes even higher than the people we’re aware of, and they’re protecting their assets. There’s a network of very powerful people pulling strings here, and that’s their impenetrable shield—their immunity. And it’s entirely possible that the national security and intelligence services were always well aware of this VIP paedophile ring and are using their own evidence about The Friday Club and others to gain leverage over people in other positions of pow
er. With this kind of information, they can blackmail and manipulate anyone involved to do whatever satisfies their own agendas. But if your evidence goes public, they can no longer use theirs to influence what they want, can they?’
I told him what Simon had found out about some of them being interlinked to a more powerful financial scheme that put them all in bed with each other, all looking after each other’s backs.
‘Good God. When you think you’ve heard the worst, more worms come out of the woodwork. I’ve reached the sad conclusion that they’re beyond the law.’ He rubbed at the pinched frown on his forehead. ‘I’ve been receiving phone calls, threatening my children unless I let this lie. And yesterday, I was approached by a fellow MP, someone I thought was a friend, and warned in no uncertain terms not to proceed with any of this if I knew what was good for me. All my colleagues are concerned with is MPs turning up and voting the right way. They’re not interested in tackling other issues with members of their party, especially when the issues are as rotten and indefensible as this is.’ He shook his head. ‘Do you know what the latest is with the police investigation?’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘They say the dossier I gave them, along with the videotape and the photos, has disappeared.’ He waved a hand angrily in the air. ‘They’ve apparently lost any evidence that could’ve secured successful prosecutions.’
I opened my mouth to tell him that there were copies, but Mitchell shot me a warning look, and I stopped myself at the last moment. That was our ace card, and I couldn’t play it yet. ‘So…so, what? That’s the end of it?’
‘We have no witnesses who will speak up and now no evidence.’ He finished his coffee and crushed the cardboard cup in his hand. ‘I’m fully prepared to use parliamentary privilege now to name them all. There is a cover-up at the highest level, and I won’t let this be buried any longer. They have to be held to account.’
Alistair left before us. We gave it ten minutes, then we walked around the park, making sure no one was taking an unhealthy interest in us. We didn’t speak on the nerve-wracking journey back to Mitchell’s, taking a different route this time via public transport, our eyes alert for any possible signs of danger. I turned everything Alistair had said over and over in my mind. I felt sick. Sick to fucking death.
After we were safely inside Mitchell’s hallway, I leant against the wall, a cold sweat breaking out over my forehead.
Mitchell dropped his keys onto a small table in the hallway. ‘Like Alistair said, this probably goes deeper than we know. The guilty are protecting each other or silencing each other. We don’t know the identity of the hooded man on the video. Maybe the Home Secretary is even involved himself.’
‘So, what next then? We wait for Alistair to name them with parliamentary privilege?’ I clenched my sweaty fists. ‘But in the meantime, while it’s still a secret, I’m not safe.’ I took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.
‘I don’t think we should wait anymore. They’ll find a way to silence Alistair, too. This has to end now.’
I closed my eyes and felt myself deflating. I slumped to the bottom stair before I collapsed and threw my head in my hands, tugging at my roots.
‘There’s only one way to stop them coming after you. As long as it stays in the shadows, you’ll always be running and looking over your shoulder. But if you expose it, there’s no percentage for them to eliminate you because the secret is already out there and there’ll be no reason to come after you.’
‘How?’
‘Plan B.’ He sat next to me on the stair. ‘I’ve been speaking with Lee. Do you remember I told you he’s got his own cyber intelligence company now? He’s a world-class expert in cyber security and protection.’
I nodded. ‘So how can that help?’
‘We get him to set up a website and upload the video and photos onto it. Then everyone can see exactly what kind of vile deviants these people who are running the country are.’
‘Won’t they just find it and take it down?’
‘That’s why we need a cyber intelligence and security expert—to make sure if they try to take it offline, we’re ready for it. It’ll be our very own WikiLeaks page.’
‘And how can he do that?’
‘I don’t know exactly. Lee was coming out with terms that are way over my head. DDOS counter-attacks, coding, threat protection, mirror backups, decoy servers.’ Mitchell shrugged. ‘But the bottom line is, even if they try to take it down, they won’t succeed. He can keep the website up there in front of billions of people. And then we watch it all go viral.’
Chapter 45
‘First, we need to eat.’ Mitchell dumped his wallet on the kitchen worktop and banged around, opening the kitchen cupboards, looking for food. ‘Then we get the copies of the evidence we hid. Lee’s meeting us here at eight tonight to set up the website.’ He pulled from the bread bin some bread that had seen better days.
‘It’s okay. I’m not hungry.’ The last time I’d eaten was with Ava yesterday. Was it really only twenty-four hours ago? It seemed a lifetime ago. I hadn’t been able to face breakfast and was light-headed with hunger, but I didn’t think I could force anything down. Not until we’d done what we needed to do with Lee.
‘You’ll be no good flaking out before we see this through.’
I opened my mouth to protest. I just wanted to get the evidence from where I’d hidden it, get that website set up, and then I knew I’d be safe, but if Mitchell needed food, then I couldn’t complain. Plus, we still had four hours to kill.
Unless those four hours killed me first.
Mitchell’s mobile phone rang as he was buttering slices of bread. ‘Hey,’ he answered. ‘What? Slow down.’ His voice ratcheted up to an urgent notch. ‘What do you mean, missing?’ A pause. And then, ‘Right. Okay, I’m coming over. Just…no, just wait there.’ He hung up. ‘Shit. Kelly’s gone missing.’
‘Your niece? Oh no.’ My eyes widened. ‘Do you think…do you think they found out about your involvement? Oh God, have they taken her to get to you?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ He slapped his hand hard on the worktop. ‘Shit! I don’t know what’s going on yet. Just that Kelly was supposed to be home from college hours ago and she hasn’t turned up. Neena phoned Kelly’s friends, and they said she never arrived there this morning. This isn’t like her at all. I’ve got to go.’
I thought back to the night of my anniversary, waiting for Jamie to come home, worrying why he was late. It sounded all too familiar.
‘Shall I come with you?’
‘No, it’s better for you to lay up here. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on.’ He snatched his car keys up.
‘Go.’ I nodded urgently. ‘Good luck. I hope you find her safe.’
I slumped onto the kitchen chair, rubbing my fingers against my forehead. No, no, no! I pictured them torturing and killing Kelly as revenge. An image of The Friday Club tape flashed into my head. Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down and tried to breathe through it.
I watched the clock creeping around to 4.30 p.m. Three and a half hours until Lee arrived. Three and a half hours until we could upload the photos and video and wait for it to explode. Three and a half hours and they’d have no reason to kill us to cover their nasty secrets because they’d be exposed.
I paced the floor, chewing on my thumbnail. I licked my cracked lips. Drank a glass of water. Thought about drinking something stronger but dismissed it. I needed to be clear-headed for what was going to come later.
I glanced at the clock.
5.05 p.m.
5.30 p.m.
5.45 p.m.
Where was Kelly? Why hadn’t Mitchell called?
Please let her be okay. Please don’t let anyone else die.
But the phone call, when it came at 6.05 p.m., wasn’t what I’d been expecting.
Chapter 46
‘I take it you’re not watching the news?’ Simon said down the line.
‘No. Why?’
‘Tur
n it on. It’s on all the channels at the moment. Take your pick.’
At his tone of voice, a sinking feeling of dread hit me. ‘Hang on a sec.’ I picked up the remote control in Mitchell’s lounge and turned the TV on, flicking it to a news station.
A young female presenter was standing on the steps outside a police station, relaying a story which a ticker running along the bottom of the screen told me was Breaking News.
I turned up the volume.
‘And tonight MP for Hendon Constituency Alistair Bromwyn was arrested for serious sexual offences following allegations from a thirteen-year-old girl.
‘The Conservative MP was arrested at 12.30 p.m. at his home address and taken to the police station behind me, where he was questioned for many hours before being released on bail.
‘Fifty-nine-year-old Bromwyn stopped to speak to reporters as he left the station, vehemently denying the allegation and reiterating his innocence. When asked if he could give us details of the alleged offences, he said, “Not at this stage. However, what I can say is that they’re totally false and unfounded. My lawyers and I are doing everything we can to show categorically and conclusively that there is absolutely no truth to any of this”.
‘Bromwyn went on to add, “Anyone who knows me will have no doubt in their minds that I am not guilty of the accusations levelled at me. These allegations are very distressing for myself, my family, and my constituents. This is nothing more than a smear campaign to ruin my reputation”. A police spokesperson said the investigation is still continuing…’
‘Bloody hell.’ The phone felt heavy in my hand.
‘Quite.’
‘Do you believe it?’
‘Not for a second. I know him. He’s a good guy. It’s a witch-hunt, a hatchet job, pure and simple, to discredit anything he was about to say. They wanted him silenced before he could name them. I don’t know where they’ve drummed up this girl from, but if Alistair is embroiled in a sexual abuse charge, there’s no way he’ll be able to name anyone with parliamentary privilege now. For a start, no one will believe him, and he’ll be forced to resign as an MP, anyway, after they’re through with him. And if the Crown Prosecution Service manage to convince a jury he’s guilty, he’ll also be looking at jail time.’
