The Trust Of The People

by Christopher Read

  * * *

  Anderson was still on edge, not yet treating the everyday sounds from his close neighbours as inconsequential. The complex fifteen miles west of Baltimore consisted of around fifty mobile homes and the rental was perfect for his needs, relatively smart with all of the usual facilities, including a large-screen TV. The car was rather more run-down, a battered Toyota which seemed willing to try and get him wherever he wanted to go.

  Quite what Devereau had needed to barter in order to get Anderson a suitable base and a car was impossible to guess. And he’d done it all in less than a day. Anderson knew Devereau had powerful friends, but he’d never before realised quite how powerful, and it was obvious he would be paying Devereau back for some time to come. Everything had been set up by phone, Anderson picking up the car from outside Dulles Airport. Details of his new residence, plus smartphone and two thousand dollars, were in the glove-box; food and other emergency supplies in the trunk, Devereau not one to skimp when needs must.

  Devereau had also become Anderson’s sole point of contact, passing on the worrying news that Charlotte was still in Leesburg and that the FBI were linking Anderson to the murder of an Enrique Garcia. There was nothing new on Pat McDowell, no sign that the FBI had even acted on Anderson’s information, and it slowly dawned on him that it had always been McDowell’s intention to frame him for murder.

  It was late afternoon by the time Anderson had settled himself in to his temporary home, able finally to scour the media for more on Garcia. The Associate Justice’s large house was instantly recognisable, CNN not the only ones to wonder whether there might be some connection between Garcia’s murder and events in Mississippi. The FBI certainly seemed to be playing it close to their chest – various leads being actively pursued, no suggestion yet that they had worked out a definite motive for the murder. While the word ‘suspect’ was missing from the various reports, the FBI seemed keen to discover the whereabouts of a certain Michael Anderson…

  With his photo splashed across every news report, Anderson’s hopes of avoiding the FBI seemed overly optimistic. He was still unsure what to do for the best, unwilling to put his future in the FBI’s hands – especially after McDowell’s warning. And unless Charlotte could extract herself from Leesburg then she too was still in danger.

  Anderson was far too involved to give up just yet, and McDowell seemed to have assumed that Anderson knew far more than the reality, his concern as to Anderson’s presence at Leesburg perhaps offering a hint as to McDowell’s own whereabouts. Anderson had seen at first hand the way August 14 worked, McDowell intimately involved in the planning and construction of the terrorists’ command-and-control centre. Put everything together and for the first time since receiving Markova’s package, Anderson could actually see a way ahead, a specific target that might just be achievable.

  His leap of faith was the belief that McDowell was based not too far from Leesburg. If so, then he would surely want facilities that were at least the equal of those he’d had in the UK. It was a starting point if nothing else, and with no other ideas to fall back on, Anderson worked his way through Virginia’s online public records, specifically Clarke and Loudon counties; then, just to be sure, he added in Frederick and Montgomery counties in Maryland. That seemed to cover everywhere within 25 miles of Leesburg, and if his theory was right, there should be something with McDowell’s imprint stamped all over it.

  Basic company records and details of building permits were readily accessible, Anderson looking for new companies and/or commercial premises where substantial building improvements had taken place sometime in the last ten months. The numbers involved were larger than he’d anticipated, but made easier by the way in which the data was displayed. Anderson searched purely by date and eventually abandoned his company filter as being too restrictive. Some counties proved to be particularly helpful, generally providing a wealth of online detail: date of application, address and type of work to be done, sometimes even the estimated cost. Frederick County was more of a struggle, Anderson having to be somewhat creative with his research.

  In total, there looked to be several thousand permits, Anderson able to speed through the vast majority simply by picking out the relatively rare options that came close to his UK criteria, twenty discarded at a time in just a few seconds. Some permits were obviously for something relatively minor, or at the other extreme part of major building works; Anderson was more interested in the mid-range, either a new build or a substantial refurbishment, preferably involving a significant electrical component.

  It was close to midnight when he finally gave up for the night, the initial filtering complete, with the number of possibilities now reduced to just sixty-one. With a bit more research into each specific permit and the relevant address, Anderson was confident he could cut it down to a more manageable number, maybe a half-dozen at most.

  Quite what he did then was as yet undecided, McDowell unlikely to appreciate Anderson barging in through the front door.