by Phil Brett
He finished and waited. Did he expect applause?
Not getting any, he asked if we had any questions.
Cole obliged, asking if he’d had a chance to “look” at Olivia back at the forensic lab. Look was obviously a euphemism for cut up, open up and generally get elbow deep in her corpse.
He nodded, stating that Olivia had been fairly healthy for her age and there were no signs of struggle and all the tests confirmed his preliminary findings at the scene. He thought there was a possibility that he might find out more later on.
I asked myself how he could get less. Was this really the best he could do? I mean, I know everything is in turmoil, with facilities and expertise scattered to the four winds, but I could have told him most of that.
Roijin was next. She repeated that the camera had been momentarily jammed to allow our killer to enter and exit the car park unseen. Many of the surrounding cameras had been taken down and those which hadn’t had been similarly neutralized. Satellite surveillance had been down, which she assured us was not due to our killer but a cyber-attack from the States. ‘I can tell you that jammer was a Sumac XIV,’ she said.
It sounded like a hair remover to me.
A map appeared, coupled with 3D imaging of the streets.
‘Again, standard issue for the likes of MI5,’ Roijin continued. ‘It’s small and very capable of jamming most CCTVs – or, to be more accurate, all Surveillance Rapid 78 cameras, but as most people still call these CCTVs, I’ll stick to that term, although it is not strictly correct. Anyway, what I don’t understand is that the Sumac is pretty effective, yet here it was used somewhat crudely. They simply inserted a looped repeat, but it is capable of easily deleting an image and filling in the background. Frankly, it is basic photo-shopping. And it would have been a lot harder to discover. Why not use it?’
Bale asked her if she had any ideas why. She hadn’t. This was going swimmingly.
Cole offered a reason. ‘With their support network dismantled in the UK, then it’s quite possible that it simply wasn’t working properly. I mean, it’s not the type of thing you can just pop into your local Computer Doctor to get fixed.’
Nods around the room appeared to think it a plausible guess. As for myself, I wondered whether the phrase “blind leading the blind” was still allowed to be used.
‘Or,’ ventured Bale, ‘they simply didn't care if we found out. The only thing that mattered was that we couldn't identify the killer.’
‘Could be,’ Cole agreed.
This really was the visually impaired leading the visually impaired.
Roijin continued. ‘From the speed of the interference, we can tell that it was medium walking speed. At no point did they run. As you can see, our person walked in this way, through Battersea Bridge Road, then off via Vale Street and then into car park Access Road 3. They left via Access Road 1 through Murray Road and onto York Road—’
With excitement bubbling over, Bale interrupted. ‘So surely we can simply look at the street cameras for those times.’
She pulled a face. ‘I’m afraid not, comrade. I found out that, in both cases, the cameras have been out of action for several months. We can’t tell what time they left York Road because they could have left by car, walked out immediately or hung about for hours. Ditto entering Battersea Bridge Road.’
Bale grimaced as one might if the cabbage was overcooked. Then as his face started returning to as normal as it got, he volunteered Jack Foxton to speak next. Foxton informed us that he had organised the stewards at Battersea and had methodically interviewed every resident again. Their statements appeared in 2D on another projection. ‘Any points of agreement are highlighted in red.’
He spoke in a quiet but authoritative voice. ‘We kept it simple: Did they see anything strange? Who did they see in that timeframe? You can see the results.’
Looking up, I could only see a list of vague descriptions, such as “plump skin-head”, “teenager with long hair and a cat”, “above average-height woman wearing a hoodie” and “skinny Sikh bloke with a limp carrying a purple rucksack”. They didn’t come under the heading of “results” in my book.
Again, he came up with several people saying that they had witnessed people “walking with a purpose” from the scene. What constituted walking without a purpose I wasn’t sure.
Our beloved chairperson Bale thought otherwise. With his stoat face twitching, he jumped in, keen to let us know how his day of playing amateur sleuth had gone: ‘We know the main CCTV isn’t much help, but Ash and I have made a start of contacting the owners of any vehicles recorded as being parked on the routes we’ve marked to see if their dash cams recorded anything.’ He brought up map indicating the position of several cars, a few vans and one lorry. ‘These were parking at the time, but were jammed just as the CCTV was. As you can see, it does tell us that the killer kept to the right-sided pavements, but I can’t see that helps us much.’
I'd agree with that.
‘So, we tried those vehicles which were outside the range of the jammer, but still might have picked up anything. This created a file of fragments. Then we tried building sensors, and by putting them together, we came up with slightly larger fragments of approximately forty people. By cross-matching these with the eye-witness statements, we can further narrow it down to thirty.’
The report-back baton was passed back to Jack. He took over and told us: ‘Now there are three vehicle entrances and three exits, plus six pedestrian entrances. Because the killer wasn’t as clever as they thought they were, we know that they came in by Access Road 2.’
Or, they couldn't give a toss that we knew.
‘Access Road 2,’ Foxton continued, ‘has one vehicular entrance and one pedestrian. It seems obvious from the jamming, that he . . . or she—’
Gita laughed. ‘I think we can just call them 'him' without being accused of sexism. It’s easier than saying “or her” all the time.’
Smiling, he nodded. ‘He walked through the pedestrian entrance. No one so far has come forward saying that they saw anyone there at that time. We have a few sightings, but the timings don't quite fit. He left via Access Road 3. Again, there is both a car and pedestrian entrance/exit, and we can trace the jamming via the pedestrian route. So, that tells us that the killer walked in and out of the car park.’
Bale summed up what this all meant. There was no fanfare. Instead, he flashed up the life-size composites.
I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help myself. All this technology, with half of Battersea helping us, and we can only produce this? Wanted posters from the Wild West would have produced more! Looking along them, they looked like a cross-section of the populace: a middle-aged Japanese looking woman, a tall young white guy, a muscular African man, a skinny African man, a short hijab-wearing woman, a tallish woman in a hoodie, a Caribbean woman in a bulky padded jacket, a skinny Sikh bloke and several teenagers of various races.
Et cetera bloody et cetera. In other words, pictures of London people.
‘Basically, it could be anyone in Britain! All that effort for this? Brilliant!’ My laughter grew slightly bitter.
Bale flashed me an angry look, but Gita agreed. She shook her head, ‘Well, Pete’s got a point. They’re all pretty generic, aren’t they? I can’t see any race that isn’t pretty well covered. What is this? A politically correct line-up?’
‘Well, we can rule out any disabled people on hover chairs,’ I noted.
A sense of humour peeped out of Cole. ‘True, Pete. So, it’s progress.’
‘Okay, you two. Enough!’ barked Bale. ‘Taking the piss isn’t going to help. We know it’s a bit sketchy, but it is a start,’ he added, trying to regain control and at least sound as if he knew what he was doing. ‘We’ve only had one day and there’s more we plan to do.’
‘Thank goodness.’
Cole glanced at me, silently telling me to shut up. Joseph’s and Kemal’s looks were as if they’d stepped in something disgusting.
I
did as Cole willed and put a brake on the sarcasm. Bale appeared desperate now to flash his credentials of being a leader of men and women, as opposed to being a cyber nerd. He introduced Gita, who declined to stand, probably seeing it as hierarchal. She had spoken to Nick Morgan again and asked him who had known that they were going to be there at that particular time. Nick had told her that, as far as he knew, nobody did. Neither he nor she had told anyone. In fact, it had been pretty much a spur-of-the-moment thing. He could not see how anyone would have known that she would have been there.
She had also asked Nick if he knew what Olivia had been doing over the previous few days. ‘Again, he was a bit sketchy. He is obviously in shock. He wasn’t sure, but as far as he was concerned, she was at the London Array doing her work there on the wind turbines.
‘He did say that she had started to act “a little weird”, but that he put down to stress. I asked him what he meant by that, but he was vague on the details and just repeated that she didn't seem herself. He wasn't too worried because he knew that Olivia had her dark moods.
‘What he did say was that he thought that she was keeping something from him. When he had asked her if anything was up, she did let slip that she couldn't tell him. He put that down to not wanting to leak her speech, but she had also said – and these are his exact words – that she didn’t want to expose him to something which she wouldn't want.’
‘Expose?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. Just as she had said that, one of the twins had started crying, and she never finished the sentence. He forgot about it because of some domestic drama involving the kids.’
For a second or two, I drifted off and thought about what on Earth had she found out that could possibly have “exposed” him and “exposed” him to what?
Leaving my inner world, I discovered that the outer didn't make much more sense, as the five of them threw out various theories as to what that might mean. If our class enemies could hear this, they wouldn't have too many worries.
Having exhausted the fantastical, Devar decided to return to recounting her investigations. Here, she had discovered nothing. No one at the NWC had seen Olivia over the previous few days. All, including party members – and, indeed, even Jackie – thought she was at the Thames Array. Gita’s tone betrayed the fact that she hadn't found the experience a spiritually uplifting one. ‘I spent all day asking everyone. I think I must have spoken to every bloody delegate and every bloody support worker at the place. Not one of them had heard from her.’
When she had finished, Bale thanked her. I wasn't sure what for. He then informed us that he wanted to hear from Victoria, but first he would speak.
I waited with bated breath.
‘I've been digging about to see if we can identify the two terrorists who Vic and Pete took down . . .’
“Took down”? Was he moving in street speak?
‘They were, as we had guessed, military. SAS, as it happened. The ancient regime had seemingly managed to destroy all their records of their secret services, but weren't so thorough with the regular armed forces. There, the army party members managed to save them, so we had access to all their little secrets. The grubbier ones we have already published. Others were useful in other ways, such as now.’
‘Did they have a political history?’ I asked.
‘Not directly. They are, were, highly regarded professionals. Between them, they had a whole drawer full of medals. Loyal and disciplined, which makes it very unlikely that it was a maverick attack. I would also say that Pete and Vic's opinion that the Nazi link is a red herring is correct. It would go against the entire lives of these two men. No, they were ordered to attack the turbine centre. They felt confident enough to stroll in, plant the bombs and scarper. And if they were challenged, they figured they could see off the amateurish NWC militia who were guarding it. But they hadn’t factored in Vic and Pete.’
Ah, shucks! Was I blushing?
Cole seemed a little more appreciative of his praise. Well, she was a newly joined and, as such, a keener. She thanked him but, to my eternal relief, didn't embark on one of those Oscar-winning speeches. Instead, she outlined what we had found out. Speaking clearly and concisely, she told the group that we intended to trace everyone Olivia had contacted whilst she had been at the wind array. Doing that, we might be able to find out who it was she had spoken to that had so spooked her. And, to be more precise, what had been said. ‘If we find that out, then we might find out the reason why she was murdered—’
Bale interrupted her. ‘I know you and Pete have a theory that she was killed because she found out the identity of another MI5 mole in the movement, but we actually can’t rule out the possibility that this isn't anything to do with secret agents, but is just the latest episode in the extermination of our leading cadre of the organisation. I don’t know if you heard, but the six o’clock news led on the murder of an organiser in Abergavenny.’
I decided to speak, because circles were great for drilling, but not for going around in. ‘We get that, Glen, but the fact is that Olivia was convinced that there was another MI5 agent close. She spoke to her partner and to Youssef Ali about it. She brought the subject up with Gita and Emily Messager. She then arranges to see Gita; in fact, she is definite that she needs to meet Gita urgently. This, just shortly before she is killed. She even mentioned that I had a point about moles, so I think it is a good working hypothesis.’
No one interrupted me, so I went on. ‘Also, there’s the fact that she basically went AWOL for two days, which was very unlike her. We think she was looking into something – something which she didn’t want to “expose” her partner to knowing. Which I think means that she didn’t want to put him in danger. That sounds to me like it has something to do with secret service infiltration. So, yeah, Glen. We will keep an open mind as long as you do. After all, we were blind to one very deadly infiltrator already, not so long ago!’
Gita nodded agreement, and to my surprise, so did Asher.
Bale merely snorted and muttered something about me being the expert in detection. It appeared that I didn’t have the monopoly on sarcasm. In his best Eeyore voice, he muttered, ‘Okay, does anyone have anything else?’
Heads shook around the room.
‘So, I think now that we should discuss what our next steps should be.’
It may have been my inbuilt dislike of him, but did I sense hesitancy and a lack of certainty of what they might be?
Cole rode to the rescue. Getting to her feet, she asked - if no one minded - she would like to make a suggestion or two. Bale, of course, didn’t mind at all. Without further invitation, she reeled out our tasks: ‘Glen, I think you should return to the scene and see if they can find anything else. Look at the traffic cameras and chase up the plates of cars which travelled through there in the time window. Their driving sensors might have picked up something.’
Clearly relieved that someone had an inkling of what the hell to do, Bale did a superb impression of a nodding dog. She turned her attention to Jack Foxton, for what sounded less like suggestions and more like instructions. ‘Jack, we still don’t know exactly why Olivia needed to be at the Battersea sub-station at that time. It could have been just to do with her job or for prepping for the environment conference, but we could do with knowing for sure. Could you visit them and find out?’
‘Sure. No problem, Victoria.’
Turning to Roijin, she said, ‘Olivia used the Red Cloud and all communications have been erased – see if you can reconstruct any traces. We are at a blank for the final thirty-six hours of her life.’
Once more, King Cole got compliance.
‘Pete and I will trace those she contacted on the first day-and-a-half at the wind turbines.’
I nodded, and noted that she hadn’t mentioned Youssef Ali’s name.
She looked at Gita and hesitated, which may have been because of the hostile look she was receiving. Gita here wasn't feeling overly sisterly to Ms Cole. I would have had hazarded a guess tha
t she had not envisaged the path to a society without governments to have included receiving instructions from an ex-police officer. Gita, welcome to my world.
Cole's equivocation didn’t last long, though. Nobody intimidated her. ‘Gita, there could be still be a number of people that Olivia contacted that we don’t know about. A good place to start would be the power industry, since that’s where she worked. We know she was in contact with people from the industry in that thirty-six hours. Could you ring workplace reps – your members and ours – across the different sectors and see if they had heard from her recently? Sorry, Gita. It’s quite a job, that one.’
For a split second they stared at each other. Cole wasn't sorry, and Devar knew it. If it was a game of who-blinks-first, Cole won the gold. With commendable self-control, Devar agreed. ‘Sure. I’ll get some of the eco-greens to help.’
‘Good. Thanks. Asher, continue the forensic sweep along the possible routes, and see if any traces were left. See if we can lock down the exact direction they took, especially when the trail goes cold in York Road and Battersea Bridge Road.’
‘Sure thing, Vic.’
It had been an effective speech. She had swiftly taken control of the proceedings and given us all our daily chores. I had to admit to being impressed. Bale obviously was too, making his pleasure known by nodding with such vigour that he risked doing himself an injury. Praise also hurtled forth. He stopped short – just – from ordering a brass band and hanging out the bunting, but not by much.
But Bale being Bale, he had to have the last word, so he decided a political plenary was required. We were treated to a political round-up of the situation in the country and how the revolution in Portugal had enormous possibilities not only to our survival but to the chances of the revolution spreading across the globe. Again, it was surprising that no music, decoration or parades were used. We just had to make do with the Baleful drone.
He finished by wishing us all luck and informing us he was to be focal point of information collection, so if we discovered anything we should give it to him.
