“Do you want to go straight back, or do we have time to pick up coffee?”
Roper didn’t bother answering, but two minutes later they were in a short queue. Hooley ordered for them all, including a bag of muffins, most of which would be finished off by Roper and the Major. Supplies in hand, they headed back out.
“Before we get in, can I ask if you are alright with the way things are panning out? You must have been disappointed that the bomb wasn’t where we expected, yet you seem to have taken it very well. You’re not upset and thinking you made a mistake?”
“I’m fine. I did make a mistake, but it was an honest one, and after Julie spoke to me things were different. I hadn’t realised I was part of a team, so that made a big difference because now I know other people are there working away.
“It’s a bit like going to watch Chelsea play football. We’ve got a really good player at the moment who is scoring loads of goals, but he can’t do it on his own. Other people have to help make the space and pass the ball to him.”
Hooley burst out laughing. “That’s brilliant, Jonathan - that makes you the star striker for the Special Investigations Unit.”
He was still smiling as they walked back into the building and into Mayweather’s office. She was working through some paperwork - Armageddon might be around the corner but forms still needed to be filled in - but looked up expectantly as they walked in. Roper distributed the food and drinks as the DCI went off to fetch the Major.
As usual Jonathan bolted down his hot coffee, his mouth and throat seemingly impervious to heat, but unusually he didn’t touch the muffins because he was so keen to get going. The Major showed no such inhibitions as he wolfed his portion.
Hooley was wondering who would win an eating competition between the pair when Roper started talking.
“Sorry to delay, everyone, but I wanted to be sure about what I was doing this time and that walk has settled it. We need to find this man, the Courier, because I have no doubt he is now running this whole thing.
“I think they must have approached him for help getting the plutonium here and he’s taken over. He probably realised that he was better than the people he was dealing with so decided to grab his opportunity. Once they told him where the plutonium was they lost their biggest bargaining chip.
“Which means we now have to find this man, and I believe we should invest some effort into checking CCTV in and around the Ritz during those periods when Sokolov was staying. He seemed to use it as his office, so he will have wanted people to meet him there.
“As soon as Major Phillips said he had seen a picture of the Courier, it all started to make sense with my Rainbow Spectrum. Suddenly I could see where this man might fit in. Going out for a walk just now has convinced me it is the right approach.
“With the Major’s help we should be able to identify a picture of him. I know we still won’t have a name, but at least it is something that we can send out to police officers patrolling the streets, and we have London’s network of cameras to fall back on.”
Mayweather looked energised. “We need to get on this as soon as we can, then. I suggest that Jonathan, Brian and the Major head for the Ritz and set up a base there. This is a national security matter, so I can get a warrant very fast to get them to hand over footage.
“I know the head of security there, he’s ex-Met. He was telling me they keep digital footage going back several years.
“I’m sure he can provide you with an office, and then we can have teams working on all the different cameras in the area. Now, before we get moving, is there anything else you want to add, Jonathan?”
“It’s Saturday tomorrow and I think that is when he might be planning to strike, and I think he will be aiming for somewhere in the central part of London. Imagine the headlines around the world with all the tourists who would be caught up in it.
“I do have another idea. This started out as a discussion about a suitcase bomb, so they were thinking about making it portable. The best way to move something like that around would be in a van, especially in London. They could get really close to a target and just park up.”
“We discussed exactly that in one of our gaming scenarios,” said the Major. “I was told a bomb would be pretty heavy, so you would need a vehicle to transport it and white vans in London would be an obvious disguise.”
“I think I may have nightmares tonight - that’s if I can get any sleep,” said Hooley. “Shall we get going? I don’t know about you guys, but I feel the need to do something rather than just sitting around.
“I’ve only ever walked past the Ritz in the past, so in any other circumstance I would be looking forward to it; but right now I’m not sure I could enjoy one of their afternoon teas.”
“Surely you could manage a small plate of cucumber sandwiches, those ones with the crusts cut off?” said the Major. “Oh, and a plate of those fancy little cakes?” he added, warming to his theme.
“What about you, Jonathan? I bet you could manage something.”
“Actually, I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday. I don’t feel at all hungry.”
Hooley’s mouth fell open. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
55
Len Davies, a former Superintendent at Scotland Yard, met them in the lobby of the hotel. He was about five-ten, but he had a ramrod-straight posture that meant he looked taller.
Davies, who was dressed in a dark grey business suit with a crisp white shirt and plain blue tie, also had a very discreet ear mic that Roper assumed kept him in touch with his security staff. The former policeman was friendly and efficient, quickly leading them through to security control.
They were shown into the main room which had a bank of screens running feeds from the different cameras that the hotel employed. Even with the four of them inside, there was plenty of seating for all.
Davies waved his arm around to take in the equipment. “We have cameras covering the outside areas of the hotel and also the public areas, including the lifts and corridors. Obviously, we don’t have anything from inside any of the rooms. We also have cameras outside the building, so that leaves a lot of footage for you to look at.
“Julie Mayweather has already spoken to me and explained how important this is. I’ve now spoken to my bosses and it has been agreed that you can proceed immediately. We know the warrant will come through and this is too urgent to delay.”
“I understand you keep your material for some time,” said Hooley.
“We have records going back two years that you can access from any of the terminals in here and then we have material copied on to DVD that go back another five years. A bit over the top, but better safe than sorry.
“I have one of my technical people on standby. Once you let me know what you are looking for, he can help you retrieve the relevant information. The cameras we use are very good, recording in high definition. The first thing I did when I got here was upgrade the system to the best you can get on the civilian market, and I make sure we install upgrades.
“All those years as a copper being forced to look at rubbish quality CCTV pictures made me determined that we weren’t going to have the same problems. It’s even in colour.”
“You’re a man after my own heart,” said Hooley as he turned to look at Roper. “Right, Jonathan, this is your show. You lead the way.”
“We need to go back over the last twelve months and it needs to be the same dates that you had a Russian guest staying called Arkady Sokolov. He may have been here quite a few times and we need the footage for those periods.”
The ex-policeman stood even straighter when he heard the name, his eyebrows raising.
“I know Mr. Sokolov personally. Trust me when I say I know appearances can be deceptive, but he is one of the most charming guests we have staying here. He always says how much he loves the hotel and he is always a generous tipper and polite to the staff.
“Not everyone with money is like that, I can assure you
. As you say, he comes here quite a lot and always books a two-room suite, preferably a corner suite. Although come to think of it, he left early last time - most unusual.”
“And I doubt you have seen him since,” said Hooley.
“No, that’s right, and I would have remembered if he had been back. As I said earlier, you will have a lot of footage to look through, but I assume you are looking for people who visited him while he was staying with us?”
“Once a cop, always a cop,” said the DCI.
Davies made an “of course” gesture with his hands. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but it might be worth starting with the corridor footage from the rooms he stayed in. Your man might be on that, so it could save time.”
He clapped his hands. “Time’s moving on, so let me talk to reception and get the dates he stayed with us and my technical man will be right with you to sort you out. I’ll also get some tea and coffee sent here. Any problems, just get reception to page me; I’ll be right with you.”
Within an hour they were underway. The Major had been assigned the task of checking the corridor footage and they were hopeful he would get a quick hit. Roper was starting with cameras in reception and Hooley was looking at external footage.
The man they were looking for, according to the Major’s description, was “a biggish man, probably a bit more than six feet, and solid-looking like a boxer, with powerful shoulders. It’s the best I can do for you. If I tried to add anything else, it would be just my imagination adding things.”
On several occasions the Major was called over to check on a potential suspect only to shake his head, and there was a moment when both Hooley and Roper shouted “Yebedev!” almost simultaneously as the individual feeds they were studying captured him walking in from outside and up to reception.
Roper said. “There must be every chance the Courier turned up at that time, or just after it.”
The Major looked thoughtful and went back to his own viewing screen and after ten minutes checking he found what he was looking for, or rather, he didn’t find it.
“Jonathan can you come and look at this for me?”
As Roper sat down the SAS man rewound the clip he was looking at. He pointed at the date and timestamp in the top right corner.
“Right there. This jumps twenty-four hours. September nineteenth is missing.”
The DCI immediately paged Davies, and ten minutes later all four men were crowding around the chair that the technician was sitting in. He confirmed the day was missing and then made checks on the system.
“There’s a note that says the corridor camera went down on that day. It was checked out and nothing found, so it was put down to a system glitch and footage was rolled on. If the Major hadn’t picked up the date stamp we wouldn’t have known.”
Davies said. “Now this is a surprise because we have never had an individual camera go down before, at least not without some obvious reason.”
He looked at his technician who nodded in agreement. “This stuff is solid. I don’t recall ever having problems with it.”
Roper jumped up with excitement. “I think this is going to be the date that the Courier was here. Somehow, he put the corridor camera out of action. I bet he came straight in with a bit of a disguise, a hat and sunglasses maybe, so Brian and I missed him arriving.
“But when he got up to the room level he wanted to make doubly sure he wasn’t spotted. Very clever of him and more proof that he is a very careful planner. I think we need to concentrate on the external footage, and maybe expand beyond the main entrance.”
Two hours later, it was Hooley who made the breakthrough.
“There,” he shouted, jumping to his feet and pointing at his monitor. “I think I’ve got him.” He’d been looking at a feed which showed people approaching the main entrance from Green Park.
With Roper and the Major standing behind him, he rewound the footage and hit play. Tourists and office workers swam into view and then a man appeared, stooping as he put a hat on.
The SAS man pounded him on the back, making his eyes water.
“Well done, Brian, that’s the man I saw on the camera phone. There’s no doubt in my mind that we have him.”
The technician was rushed back and, before long, he had isolated the perfect image and printed off several copies, as well as downloading an attachment for Hooley to fire off to Mayweather.
Roper studied the portrait. The camera had caught their man apparently looking at something a few feet ahead of him. He was squinting slightly as if trying to focus on whatever it was. Roper always got the feeling that pictures could capture what people were really like. This one was making him shudder.
He tried to imagine he was looking at someone who was evil but could detect nothing like that. It was Brian Hooley who helped him sum it up. “He’s a determined-looking bloke, isn’t he?”
56
There had been a short and intense debate about whether to issue the picture to the media. The ‘no’ side were fearful it would stop the Courier from negotiating and increase the risk of him going ahead with his plan to detonate the bomb.
However, the argument was swinging towards those who wanted to get his picture published - the politicians said the public would never forgive them if they discovered the image had been withheld - when Roper was asked for his view.
“I say no. If we publish his picture he has nothing to lose and sets off the bomb. At least this way we can talk.”
That would probably have swung it anyway, but then Hooley received another message.
“I want access to the GCHQ system at noon today or else the bomb is set off.”
It was 7.00A.M on Saturday. Hooley, Roper and the Major were at a mobile police command centre on Whitehall. Roper had just returned from a long walk, this time on his own, when the message had pinged its way on to the DCI’s mobile.
He showed it to Roper and said. “What do you think about the evacuation plans, Jonathan? The view is that, since we haven’t come up with a solution, we stop all the trains coming into London and put up road blocks to stop traffic from a radius of five miles out.”
Roper took his time. “We have to stop people coming in. I don’t think he is going to try for a really big explosion, but it will be somewhere high-profile, like a tourist target in the centre: anywhere from Big Ben, to Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square, and maybe all that area around Waterloo. It would be easy to hide a vehicle around there.”
“Hard to argue against your analysis, Jonathan,” said Hooley. He was looking tired after a restless night and starting work at 5am. “What about you, Tom - any thoughts?”
“I wish I had, but I’m willing to go with Jonathan on this. We need to do something.”
“Are the rest of your drones here in London now, Tom?” Roper looked hopeful.
“I take it you mean the longer-range ones. Yes, I got a message last night. Jenkins reported they are all here and in working order. What have you got in mind?”
“Could we have one up covering the central area? And do it now, while it’s fairly quiet.”
“Give me five minutes and we can be on the way.”
The big drone was at a little over 1000 feet and had swept down the Victoria Embankment from the area of Lambeth Palace and towards the High Courts on the Strand, before heading back towards Westminster on a return sweep.
The cameras were of an astonishing quality and Roper was careful studying a slowed down feed, concentrating fiercely on the pictures slowly crossing his screen. He was studying every inch of the flight and had his face pressed close to the screen.
He didn’t once look away and Hooley could not imagine how he was able to do it without inducing a massive headache. At various times Roper stopped the feed, carefully rewound it and then studied something that had caught his attention, before carrying on.
The drone completed its first sweep of the central area without finding anything. He turned to the drone controller.
“Can you take us back over the area around the London Eye?”
Jenkins soon had the drone hovering over the spot and somehow Roper was managing to stare even more intently at the feed. Both Hooley and the Major had to fight off excitement as they sensed he might be onto something.
Roper was oblivious to what was going on around him and had started tapping at a keyboard, calling up some information; he read it carefully and then turned back to the screen showing the drone footage.
“Look there: at that area close to the London Eye. That looks like workmen are digging on the pavement.”
The two men could clearly see a large hole, an all-too-common sight for London.
“I’ve just checked, there is authorisation to be digging up the pavement at that spot - but it’s at 7pm this evening, not 7am this morning. That’s got to be the Courier and his team. He’s probably hoping people will think the 7pm start time is a mistake and it is OK to be there.”
Major Phillips didn’t need any more convincing. As he dashed away he was shouting at his team leaders to access the footage.
Inside the police command vehicle, the live footage continued to roll. Hooley and Roper watched as a man backed out of the rear doors of a van parked up on the pavement. He was wearing high visibility gear and a white protective helmet.
As his foot reached the ground he reached up and adjusted his helmet then carried on walking away from the van and over to the hole which was being dug.
“That’s him, that’s the Courier.” Roper was whispering as though frightened that if he shouted out the name the man they were hunting would hear and somehow escape.
Hooley couldn’t decide. “Are you sure?”
Roper rewound the footage. “Watch as he reaches for his hat. He uses his left hand and he has a slightly odd quirk where his right shoulder dips down. That’s exactly what happened when you found the footage of him outside the hotel.”
Hooley whistled in amazement. “For a bloke who can’t spot an emotion if it lands on his head, you have a good eye for detail.”
The Long Reach: British Detective (Jonathan Roper Investigates Book 3) Page 21
