A Bombing Enigma

by Angelika Lansdale

  Cynara searched for all the old articles related to the bomb blast and quickly skimmed through them. Mr. George Stewart had rented a Melrose box at the races. His party had comprised of sixteen other rich and prominent people of Yorkshire. It was his annual tradition. Jimmy had walked into the box and detonated the bomb. The explosion had killed the seventeen present at the time in the box, including Mr. Stewart, four in the adjoining one, and Jimmy. Many had sustained injuries but there had been no other fatalities. The death toll could have been much worse because the races were extremely well known. People flocked to them from all over England.

  One of the old sites had a link to the video Jimmy had shot and left on a DVD in his home. That would probably be this cottage, Cynara deduced apprehensively. She watched the video with trepidation. The recording was short and showed a man standing in front of a window. It seemed to have been filmed in the living room. The man, presumably Jimmy, was dressed all in black. He spoke into the camera saying he had become a Muslim, hated this country, and hated Christians. There was only hypocrisy in this world and so he was taking his life voluntarily. The video then ended with Jimmy kneeling down on the floor and praying like a Muslim.

  The investigators who had been assigned to the case had been unable to connect Jimmy with any Jihadi group or known Muslim terrorists. The reasons for Jimmy’s conversion to Islam remained a mystery. He seemed to have no Muslim friends who had influenced him. They had decided he had worked alone. Then who was Abaan Khalid Fakhri in the email? Moreover, who was the girl wanting to convert?

  Chapter 4

  Cynara woke up early the next morning. She had browsed the web until about 9 p.m. and then decided to call it quits. After a light dinner, she had immediately gone to bed and slept very deeply. She ate breakfast and called Charles. He was quite stunned about the letter. How was a pen drive containing an email addressed to Jimmy in Mrs. Stewart’s possession? Charles advised her to talk to Mrs. Stewart as soon as she went in to work.

  Cynara rang the doorbell of the manor house a few minutes before 8 a.m. Mr. Drake opened the door. He asked her to continue with where she had left off yesterday and Mrs. Stewart would join her after a couple of hours. She told him that she needed to talk to her employer immediately about a pressing matter. Mr. Drake was taken aback by her urgency and went to inform Mrs. Stewart. Cynara entered the study and looked around. It seemed to be exactly as she had left it yesterday. She opened the top drawer of the desk and ensured Jimmy’s thumb drive was still there.

  Cynara sat down and booted up the computer. She picked another pen drive from the box and inserted it into the machine. It also contained a large number of documents similar to the first and second USBs she had handled. She randomly selected a file and opened it. It was another bank statement. Just then, Mrs. Stewart walked into the study. She looked ethereal in a knee length white cotton frock. Cynara immediately greeted her, “Good Morning.”

  “Good Morning. You wished to see me?” Mrs. Stewart asked.

  “Yes sorry to disturb you Mrs. Stewart. I came across something yesterday that I wanted to show you,” Cynara replied. She explained about the letter she had found. Mrs. Stewart was astounded. Cynara took out the pen drive from the drawer, inserted in into the computer, and opened the email.

  “I cannot believe this!” Mrs. Stewart exclaimed after reading the note. “Jimmy was the suicide bomber who blew up my husband along with himself. He was our chauffeur at the time.” She slowly sank down into a chair.

  “Yes, I have heard the story,” Cynara replied.

  “Jimmy had been working with us a little less than nine months. Ruth, my husband’s first cousin, had recommended him. He was a quiet man and kept to himself.” Mrs. Stewart sat there looking baffled. “How is his email on my pen drive?” she asked in confusion.

  “It might be Jimmy’s pen drive and not yours,” Cynara suggested. “It only contains two files.”

  “How is that possible?” Mrs. Stewart questioned. “And what is the second file?”

  “I am unable to open it. The format is unknown,” Cynara replied.

  “Are there any other such pen drives?” Mrs. Stewart asked in bewilderment.

  “I do not know. Shall I browse through all of them and confirm?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes please do that,” Mrs. Stewart whispered faintly.

  Cynara looked at her with concern. She was almost as pale as her dress. Cynara started verifying every thumb drive in the box. They all contained multiple files. Cynara opened a couple of them on each drive. They were either financial documents or personal photographs. A few were recipes. Mrs. Stewart sat beside her and watched carefully. It took them a few hours to meticulously check all the USBs. None had any files of an unrecognizable format or files with no extension.

  After they finished verifying the last pen drive, Mrs. Stewart stood up tremblingly. Cynara worriedly looked at her and asked, “Are you all-right?”

  “Yes,” she responded. “It is just so astonishing to find this thumb drive amongst all the rest that belong to me. This is the only one that does not. I cannot understand how it happens to be in this box. After Jimmy blew himself up, the police and Counter Terrorism Division had searched the cottage, where he had lived, and taken all his belongings. It was part of the evidence. They never returned any of it.”

  “They must have missed this somehow,” Cynara said.

  “Yes probably because it was not in the cottage. But how did it get into this box?” Mrs. Stewart repeated puzzled.

  “Could this be new evidence?” Cynara asked hesitatingly.

  Mrs. Stewart looked at her dazed and then slowly nodded her head. “I will call the agent at the Counter Terrorism Division. He had given me his card. I should still have it somewhere. Let me go and find it.”

  After Mrs. Stewart left the room, Cynara sat down and reinserted the pen drive with Jimmy’s letter into the computer. She considered herself quite tech-savvy and tried various ways to open the second file. They were all futile. She was unable to read it even from the DOS prompt. Just as she ejected the drive in frustration, Mrs. Stewart came back into the study with a card in her hand. She showed it to Cynara. It was the official business card for a Mr. Bruce Daniels at the CPS office, Special Crime and Counter Terrorism Division, in York.

  Mrs. Stewart dialed the number from the phone in the study. She asked to speak to Mr. Daniels. After a few minutes wait, he came on the line. Mrs. Stewart explained about the USB drive and the letter. Mr. Daniels seemed to get quite excited with the news and agreed to come around to the house after lunch. Cynara was surprised to see it was almost noon. The morning hours had flown. Just then, Mrs. Simpson knocked and entered the room. She asked Cynara to join them for lunch. Mrs. Stewart requested a tray by the poolside.

  Cynara ate her lunch with enjoyment. The food was tasteful and she realized how hungry she was. Maybe it was the release of all the pent up anxiety since last evening. Mr. Keene also dined with them. The conversation was quite lively. Even Mr. Drake smiled a few times. Cynara did not mention anything about the email or the thumb drive as she felt it was inappropriate.

  After finishing lunch, Cynara resumed her work. The doorbell rang at 1 p.m. After a few minutes, Mrs. Stewart walked in with two men. She introduced them as Mr. Daniels and Mr. Watson. Both were tall and pleasant looking. Mr. Daniels seemed to be in his late 40’s and Mr. Watson, mid 30’s. They shook hands with Cynara. Mrs. Stewart explained Cynara’s role and the discovery of the pen drive.

  “Can we see it,” Mr. Daniels requested.

  “Certainly, Cynara will show you,” Mrs. Stewart said.

  Cynara nodded her head and quickly inserted the drive in the USB port and opened the document. She moved out of the way so that both the men could read the letter. Mr. Watson sat down on the chair in front of the desk. “What is the other file?” he asked.

  “I do not know. The format is unknown. I am unable to open it,” Cynara replied.

  “Are there other similar
USB drives in the box?” Mr. Daniels asked.

  “No. We quickly scanned all of them. This is the only one that seems to have something not belonging to Mrs. Stewart,” Cynara replied.

  “We will need to take it with us back to the office. Do you know how it happened to be in this box with all your personal USB sticks?” Mr. Daniels asked looking at Mrs. Stewart.

  “I cannot say with certainty. These are all my husband’s flash drives. However, after giving it some thought, the only logical explanation seems to be that maybe Jimmy mistakenly left it in George’s car. And George, without realizing it was not one of his, placed it in the box. No one has touched this box since his death. I hired Cynara to help me sort through these drives along with my other papers and we discovered it,” Mrs. Stewart explained.

  “Well it is certainly very strange,” Mr. Daniels mused. “The sender, someone called Abaan Khalid Fakhri, has clearly indicated it is an email addressed to Jimmy. It has been copied and pasted into a text document from the email client and saved on this thumb drive. There is no date on it. Abaan Khalid Fakhri is undoubtedly a Muslim name. We need to investigate this further. It is certainly new evidence in the case.”

  “Did Jimmy have any Muslim friends? You must have thoroughly checked after the suicide?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes we did but had no luck in connecting Jimmy with any Muslim friends or associates. In fact he had very few friends that he had kept in touch with over the years,” Mr. Daniels said.

  “Was he originally from York?” Cynara asked.

  “Yes, Jimmy was born here but then moved to Bradford. In his last eight years there, he rented a two bedroom flat in one of the suburbs. His landlord lived in a flat on the ground floor and had never seen anyone visit him, Muslim or non-Muslim. There were no girlfriends either,” Mr. Daniels said.

  “When did he return to York?” Cynara asked.

  “About nine months before the suicide bombing,” Mr. Watson responded.

  “Even here he hardly had any close friends. He occasionally interacted with a few classmates from his school days but was never too pally with anyone. In fact, he had hardly communicated with anybody in the last few months leading up to his death. He led a solitary life,” Mr. Daniels added.

  “Yes I never saw anyone visit him while he worked for us,” Mrs. Stewart said.

  “We had questioned all your servants and they also never noticed any visitors at his cottage. He was somewhat of a loner,” Mr. Daniels said.

  “The word that describes his personality accurately is introvert,” Mrs. Stewart added. “He was an introvert.”

  “What about his emails? Did you check those?” Cynara asked.

  “We confiscated his computer and went through all his emails and his internet account. We found nothing of any relevance,” Mr. Daniels said.

  “Yes, but he could have had a pseudonym that we are unaware of and checked emails from an internet cafe or a public library. This letter might be genuine and may lead us to something more,” Mr. Watson added thoughtfully.

  “Well I ardently hope so. What happened and why it happened was very difficult to understand or accept. However, if there was a terrorist organization behind Jimmy and if they can be caught and brought to justice, then it will really help us find some closure. I am not speaking for only my family but for all the victims’ families,” Mrs. Stewart said. “I have one favor to ask you. Please keep me apprised of what you uncover. This means a lot to me,” she beseeched.

  “We will Mrs. Stewart,” Mr. Daniels assured. “But, please keep this development to yourself. We do not want the press to get a whiff of it for your sake.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Stewart nodded in acquiescence.

  Mr. Daniels turned towards Cynara and said, “Please copy the letter onto the computer and give me the USB drive.”

  Cynara copied it onto the Desktop and ejected the USB stick from the computer. She handed it to Mr. Daniels. After seeing them off, Mrs. Stewart returned to the study and sank down on one of the settees. Cynara noticed a slight tremor in her hands as she pushed her hair behind her ears. There were many questions on Cynara’s mind. Why did Jimmy move back to York? Where was his family? How did they react to the suicide? She strictly refrained herself from voicing them as Mrs. Stewart looked so dazed. “Are you okay?” she asked instead.

  “This has been quite a shock,” Mrs. Stewart replied slowly. “You know I was also supposed to have died in that bomb blast. I was there in the box but then suddenly became very nauseous. It was probably something I ate. George insisted I leave after I threw up. I took a taxi and came home just four to five minutes before it happened.”

  Cynara did not know how to respond and so just sat silently. She understood now that Mrs. Stewart could have been the eighteenth person to perish that day in the Melrose box.

  “I should have died with George, and all the others. Some of them were my very close friends,” Mrs. Stewart said sadly. “I feel so guilty.”

  “It was not your fault,” Cynara said soothingly. Mrs. Stewart was suffering from survivor’s guilt.

  “Yes I know. But Jimmy was our driver. I should have realized something was not right with him,” Mrs. Stewart said.

  “How could you possibly know that? You cannot blame yourself,” Cynara said.

  Sighing deeply, Mrs. Stewart stood up slowly and said, “I better go and meet my in-laws and inform them about this letter. My father-in-law has been ill for a while. Maybe it will give him some hope for justice. This must all be quite shocking for you as well. I am sorry about it.”

  “Please don’t apologize Mrs. Stewart. Do not worry about me. I am fine,” Cynara reassured her. “I will start working on the next pen drive.”

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Cynara went back to her cottage at five o’ clock and decided to go for a jog. The fresh air would do her a world of good. She quickly donned her exercise shorts and a tee shirt and walked out to the main road. There was a path leading towards a park, half a mile away. It was a beautiful evening and the weather was splendid for being outdoors. There were several people already jogging. Cynara stretched for a few minutes and joined them energetically.

  Cynara returned to her cottage after an hour. She was sweating profusely and decided to first shower. After eating dinner, she sat in front of the TV and flipped through the channels without actively watching anything. Instead, she reflected on the letter. Mrs. Stewart had disclosed that Mr. Daniels had been in charge of the case after the bombing. He seemed to be very competent. She hoped that this would lead to some answers and give peace to all the bereaved relatives of the victims.

  Cynara was woken up by the ringing of her mobile phone early in the morning. It was Charles. He apologized for waking her up but was anxious to hear about the previous day’s events. Cynara filled him in with all the details. He was relieved to hear about Mrs. Stewart’s decision to immediately call the CPS officers. “I was worried about you,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “I can tell,” Cynara mocked. They talked leisurely for a while before hanging up. Cynara smiled to herself. She really had a very loving brother. There were so many siblings she knew who had drifted apart over time. She was very fortunate.

  Cynara had a quiet day working in the study. Mrs. Stewart looked in a few times but left her alone to proceed with the USB sticks. It was a blessing to not deal with any new revelations. Her evening was also spent following the same routine, jog, dinner, and TV. Cynara hoped the rest of her three months would allow her to adhere to a similar pattern.

  Mrs. Stewart was already waiting for her in the study when Cynara reached the next morning. She was pacing the room and seemed highly excitable. “Mr. Daniels just called and is coming over shortly. They have found Abaan Khalid Fakhri,” she announced.

  Chapter 5

  Mrs. Stewart and Cynara waited uneasily for Mr. Daniels. Time seemed to stand still. Cynara tried to continue working but was unable to concentrate. Mrs. Stewart sat mutely with her hands claspe
d in her lap. She seemed calm but Cynara could see the turmoil visible in her eyes. It must have taken a tremendous effort to sit without fidgeting.

  The doorbell finally rang and Mr. Drake brought Mr. Daniels and Mr. Watson to the study. After exchanging greetings, Mrs. Stewart invited all of them to take a seat and asked, “You have found Abaan?”

  “We have not found him physically. But we are quite confident that we now know who he is,” Mr. Daniels replied. “After checking all our police records we found an Abaan Khalid Fakhri whom we had apprehended about two years ago, just after the Bradford racial riots in September of 2012. We took the photograph we had on file and started questioning the Imams at all the mosques in Bradford. After going to five different ones, we finally found an Imam at the Jamia Masjid mosque who recognized the photo and knew him as Khalid Fakhri. He was an immigrant from Iraq and used to regularly visit the mosque for prayers. The Imam has not seen him in the last eighteen months.”