Authors: James Raven
T
HEY LEFT
M
RS
Renner’s house armed with her husband’s new address and phone number. His flat was apparently just a mile away.
‘When we put out Cole Renner’s picture I’d like you to give his mum a call,’ Temple said when they were in the car. ‘I don’t want it to come as a complete shock to her.’
DC Marsh nodded. ‘Of course, guv. So what do you think?’
Temple started the engine. ‘I think she was telling the truth. She doesn’t know where her son is. Or if she does then she’s a bloody good liar.’
‘What about the stuff she told us?’
‘Well, it tallies with the information Savage gave us. Cole Renner sounds like he’s cracking up: mood swings, aggression. What he experienced on the battlefield may well have unhinged
him. Could be he’s angry and has decided to exact revenge on the world at large.’
‘I had a friend who was in the army,’ Marsh said. ‘He enjoyed the camaraderie and lapped up the danger, but when he came back he struggled to adapt to civilian life.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He was diagnosed with something called acute stress reaction and ended up in a psychiatric hospital. I lost touch with him after that so I don’t know how he got on.’
‘It’s a big problem,’ Temple said. ‘You can’t help feeling sorry for them. They risk their lives and go through the most appalling experiences. Then they return to a country that seems indifferent to their suffering.’
‘I agree, guv. Thank God most soldiers don’t respond by going on a killing spree.’
They found Martin Renner’s address easily enough using the pool car’s sat nav. The flat was above a newsagents and had its own side entrance in a narrow alley.
Temple left the car round the corner in a pay and display car park. Then they walked back to the flat and rang the bell. There was no answer.
‘Try calling him, guv,’ Marsh said.
He tapped into his mobile phone the number Mrs Renner had given him. But the call went straight to voicemail.
‘Shit. He’s not picking up.’
The newsagents was open so they went inside and asked the Asian guy behind the counter if he knew who owned the flat upstairs. He said he didn’t, but he had seen the new tenant.
‘He comes in here to buy his paper,’ he said. ‘Scruffy bloke. Told me he’s just separated from his wife.’
‘Have you seen him today?’
‘Yeah, early this morning. He got his paper and some cigarettes. But we didn’t speak to each other because I had a queue.’
Outside on the street DC Marsh said, ‘We could go and see Ryan Addison. Then come back here afterwards.’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ Temple said. ‘There’s a pub across the road. Let’s go have some lunch. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.’
The pub was small and cosy, all flagstone and dark wood. There was a roaring blaze going in a large inglenook fireplace and the black beams on the ceiling were hung with chamber pots and pretty plates. The only thing that didn’t fit with the rustic theme was a fifty-inch television on one wall that was showing the Sky news channel.
They chose sandwiches from the blackboard menu above the bar. Temple ordered half a pint of lager and Marsh opted for a diet Coke.
They took the drinks to a corner table close to one of the front windows. Temple positioned his chair so he could see the alley across the road and the front door to Martin Renner’s flat. With any luck he’d soon return home.
As he took a sip of his lager, he thought about Angel and decided to give the hospital a call, but just as he was reaching for his phone, Marsh drew his attention to the television.
‘I think you need to see this, guv,’ she said.
Temple turned to the screen. The scrolling headline read:
Terror squad to take charge of sniper investigation.
‘So now it’s official,’ Temple said.
The newsreader handed over to a reporter outside the Cabinet Offices in Westminster.
The reporter went straight into a piece-to-camera: ‘The prime minister has just announced that a special task force is being set up to take over the investigation into the motorway shootings. It follows a meeting of the COBRA Emergency Committee here in London. Detective Chief Superintendent Owen Vickery of the Counter Terrorism Command will lead the task force.’
The reporter explained that the COBRA Committee had been presented with strong evidence to suggest that the motorway shootings were the work of a terrorist with links to Al Qaeda.
Temple arched his eyebrows and wondered where the line about Al Qaeda had come from.
On screen the reporter linked to a short sound-bite from the
Prime Minister who spoke in solemn tones.
‘These are sickening and barbaric acts of terrorism and they will not go unpunished,’ he said. ‘We will do everything possible to find the person or persons responsible and I would urge the public to stay calm. Meanwhile our thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims.’
The reporter then said that DCS Vickery was about to make a statement. The shot changed again to show a sharp-suited black guy standing before a bevy of microphones. Temple had never come across Vickery before. He was in his forties, tall and trim, with an arrogance in his bearing.
Vickery cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, spoke without the aid of notes.
‘The Counter Terrorism Command welcomes the opportunity to spearhead a task force that will investigate the motorway shootings,’ he said. ‘Evidence we put before the COBRA Committee has convinced members that these crimes are the work of terrorists; we believe those responsible have links to Al Qaeda.
‘I’m not at liberty to go into details at this stage, but I can tell you that we won’t tolerate a reign of terror. This task force will have access to considerable manpower and resources. The Chief Constable of Hampshire has assured me of the support of his team of detectives who are already working on the case. I’ll be liaising with them as soon as possible.
‘I want to reassure the public: we are determined to catch those responsible for these attacks. Since I’ve only just received orders regarding the task force I’m not in a position to answer questions, but as soon as the team is in place I’ll release more information. Thank you.’
Vickery turned on his heels and walked away from the media scrum to a car that was waiting to whisk him back to New Scotland Yard. Temple felt his spirit shrivel inside him. He turned away from the screen and looked at Marsh.
‘So what do you make of it all, guv?’ she said.
At that moment the barman arrived and placed their sandwiches on the table.
Temple was no longer hungry. His heart was pumping hard
and he was anxious to get going.
He gestured towards the sandwiches. ‘If you want yours then you’d better bring it with you.’
He stood up and headed for the door, leaving his own sandwich behind. On the way to the car they checked to see if Martin Renner had returned to his flat. He hadn’t so Temple put one of his cards through the letter box. On the back he’d scrawled a message:
Mr Renner. Call me asap.
T
EMPLE’S PHONE RANG
as soon as they set off for Southampton. He took it from his pocket and gave it to DC Marsh, telling her to answer it.
‘It’s the Chief Super,’ she said. ‘He wants to speak to you.’
‘Tell him I’m driving. And tell him I’ve heard the news.’
Marsh relayed the message, listened to what Beresford had to say, then said, ‘He’s arranged a video conference call with DCS Vickery in half an hour. He’d like you to be there, guv.’
‘Tell him I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
The phone rang again thirty seconds later. It was DS Vaughan, wanting to know what was happening. Marsh told him about the conference call and Temple said he’d hold a team briefing afterwards to put them all in the picture.
As they sped south along the A36 at just over the speed limit Temple tried to focus his mind on the likely outcome of the new development.
He was keen to know exactly what evidence had been put before the COBRA Committee. Did it really link Al Qaeda to the shootings? And if it did then why the fuck hadn’t they told him about it earlier?
Beresford’s office was a fair reflection of the man himself – tidy, meticulous, functional. The walls were bare and nothing was
out of place.
The burly Welshman was behind his desk when Temple got there, his mouth working hard at a piece of nicotine gum. His expression was grim and he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.
‘Sit down, Jeff,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you about the task force before you heard it elsewhere. The Chief Constable phoned me after the COBRA meeting. But it’s what we expected.’
‘So what’s this terrorist angle?’ Temple said. ‘And why didn’t they bring it to our attention first?’
‘That’s what we’re about to find out. DCS Vickery will be calling any second.’
‘What do you know about him?’
Beresford shrugged. ‘Not much. He’s a high flyer with the Counter Terrorism Command – moved over from the Serious Organised Crime Agency two years ago – has a reputation for getting things done.’
Temple was about to brief Beresford on his meeting with Greg Savage when the call from Vickery was put through. The DCS appeared on Beresford’s computer screen a moment later and Beresford adjusted it so he and Temple were framed by the in-built camera.
Vickery was sitting behind a big desk in London and it looked to Temple as though he was puffed up with self-importance. He’d removed his jacket and loosened his silk tie and his eyes peered over a pair of designer glasses.
After brief introductions, Vickery said, ‘I won’t beat about the bush, gents. This investigation has moved up a gear and I need to get to grips with it fast. I don’t expect you to be happy about losing control, but that’s the way it is. So if it’s going to be a problem then tell me now.’
Temple felt his hackles rise, but decided to reign in an audible sigh. He saw no point in getting off on the wrong foot just because Vickery wanted to establish at the outset that he was the boss.
‘We don’t have a problem with it,’ Beresford said. ‘You can
expect our full cooperation.’
Vickery nodded, satisfied. ‘Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. So let’s get straight down to business.’
‘Before we do there’s just one thing I’d like to know,’ Temple said.
A frown wrinkled Vickery’s forehead. ‘Go on.’
Temple pursed his lips and said, ‘Why weren’t we given the heads-up before an announcement was made on television?’
‘There was no time,’ Vickery said. ‘I didn’t know myself until after I presented evidence to the COBRA Committee. They decided then and there that it was the best way to deal with the threat posed by the sniper. And your Chief Constable was in full agreement. He also went along with the decision to announce it straight away – before you guys had been informed.’
Temple stuck out his bottom lip. ‘So shouldn’t you have let me know about this evidence first? I was in charge of this case up to an hour ago.’
Vickery blew out his cheeks. ‘Until late last night there was nothing I could have told you. We received information and my commander referred it directly to the Home Secretary. He then convened COBRA and I was told to attend.’
Temple shrugged. ‘So what is this evidence?’
Vickery cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. Then he waited a few beats before speaking.
‘We were told by one of the sniper’s accomplices that a terror campaign had been launched to target motorways,’ he said.
Temple and Beresford were thrown by this revelation. It wasn’t what either of them had expected to hear and the shock was evident in their expressions.
‘I think it’s time we were put in the picture,’ Beresford said.
‘T
HREE MONTHS AGO
rumours started circulating in certain
Muslim communities that a small Al Qaeda cell in the UK was planning a terror attack,’ Vickery said. ‘We’d been expecting something to happen because things had been too quiet for too long. Plus the Al Qaeda online propaganda magazine,
Inspire
, has been urging its followers to inflict maximum damage with whatever means at their disposal. In other words: just do something.
‘Then one of our people in Pakistan was told about an English national named Yousef Hussain who’d recently spent several weeks at a terrorist training camp outside Islamabad. He’d never appeared on our radar which is why he wasn’t flagged up when he returned to the UK. It was soon obvious that he had become a radicalized Muslim and that he was preparing himself for some kind of jihadist mission in London.
‘We traced him to a flat in Stratford which he shared with two other men – one from Somalia and the other from Algeria. Both were known to MI5, but were considered low risk. So we put them all under surveillance.
‘None of them went to work, but they had plenty of cash and could afford to run a car. We eavesdropped on a few of their conversations and managed to hack into an email account they were all using.
‘A familiar story emerged. All three had been brainwashed to kill in the name of a perverted politicized version of Islam. They talked about striking terror in the capital and several times one or the other said it was going to happen imminently. It got us worried so we decided to move in.’
‘Is this to do with the arrests you guys made early last week?’ Temple asked.
‘That’s right. We raided the flat when we thought all three were there, but unfortunately we cocked up because Hussain had slipped away.’
‘I remember,’ Temple said. ‘You circulated his picture.’
Vickery nodded. ‘That’s right. We had no idea what he was up to. After their arrests his two accomplices didn’t say a word. Then suddenly the Somali guy asked to see me last night. He said he had something to say and took great pleasure in telling me that Hussain was the sniper and that despite our efforts their
mission was being carried out as planned.’
‘And you believe him?’ Temple said.
‘No reason not to. He describes himself as a soldier and is keen to claim responsibility for the attacks on behalf of Al Qaeda.’
‘So was there anything in the flat to support his claim?’
‘We found three forged passports and some explosive substances, including sulphur powder and potassium nitrate. Plus two pistols, a number of knives and a book on how to make a Semtex bomb.’
‘What about maps of motorways or rifle cartridges?’
‘Nothing like that, but the Somali guy said they kept that stuff somewhere else.’
‘Did you manage to seize their laptop?’ Beresford asked.
Vickery nodded. ‘We did and we came across an email account they’d been using. A few of the messages referred to a job that was underway in London.’
They lapsed into silence for a spell as Temple and Beresford took in what Vickery had told them. And there was a lot to take in. Temple knew that there were followers of Islam living in Britain who might be prepared to carry out murder in the name of jihad. Many of their most spectacular plots had been foiled by the security services in recent years. More ‘lone wolf’ fanatics with links to Al Qaeda were acting on their own initiative – and coming up with increasingly ingenious ways to inflict terror.
‘If Yousef Hussain is indeed the sniper then his undoubted aim will be to kill as many people as he can and cause turmoil across the country,’ Vickery said. ‘He knows the attacks will trigger an avalanche of national and worldwide publicity. It’s the kind of exposure they yearn for. So you can see why COBRA felt it was necessary to set up a task force. If we don’t find this guy then God knows what the final death toll will be.’
Temple shook his head. ‘I get all that, but despite what you’ve said I’m not sure we should put all our eggs in one basket?’
Vickery’s eyebrows shot up. ‘So you think the Somali guy lied?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Temple said.
‘Well, I was the one who spoke to him and I happen to think he was telling the truth. He wants the world to know that they’ve found a new way to strike terror.’
‘But he might be claiming credit because you scuppered their real mission when you raided the flat and arrested them,’ Temple said. ‘For all you know Hussain might have fled to Pakistan.’
‘That’s unlikely. For me it’s too much of a coincidence. The three of them have clearly been planning something. Then just a week after one of them disappears, motorways come under attack.’
‘Coincidences do happen,’ Temple pointed out.
Vickery’s eyes narrowed and Temple could see that he was not happy explaining himself.
‘Well, as far as I’m concerned Hussain is the number one suspect,’ Vickery said. ‘His height and build even match the hooded guy in the security footage you put out. So until we can put someone else in the frame this task force will focus on him.’
‘We do have someone else in the frame as a credible suspect,’ Temple said.
Vickery tilted his head sideways. ‘Are you serious? Your Chief Constable told me you had no suspects.’
‘He doesn’t know yet,’ Temple said. ‘The guy’s name emerged this morning. He’s Cole Renner and he’s a trained army sniper who’s gone AWOL. It’s also possible that he stole a rifle from his camp in Wiltshire. The same kind of rifle being used by the sniper.’
Vickery twisted his lips in thought and gave a slight nod.
‘OK, you’d better tell me more,’ he said.
So Temple filled him in on what he was told by Greg Savage and by Renner’s mother. And Vickery chewed on his lower lip as he listened. When Temple had finished Vickery worked his jaw in circles as he thought it through. Then he agreed – reluctantly it seemed to Temple – that it was a lead worth pursuing.
‘Just hold back for now on releasing Renner’s photo,’ he said. ‘We’re about to circulate a picture of Hussain and I don’t want to confuse the issue, but do all you can to trace Renner, if only to
rule him out.’
‘It’ll speed things up if we can release his picture,’ Temple said.
‘It’ll also divert attention away from Hussain and I don’t want that. You’ve only just been alerted to Renner so you might run him down by this time tomorrow and find out he’s a poor fucked up soldier who’s done nothing wrong.’
Temple swallowed a sharp retort and said nothing.
‘Meanwhile send me everything you’ve gathered so far,’ Vickery said. ‘I want to get this task force mobilized as quickly as possible.’
‘What happens if there’s another attack this evening?’ Beresford asked.
‘We play it by ear,’ Vickery said. ‘If it’s in your region then you’ll have to respond. If it’s outside Hampshire I’ll work with the local Force. At some point I’ll bring everyone together for a meeting, probably in London.’
They talked for another ten minutes about various aspects of the case and Vickery provided some background information on Yousef Hussain and his accomplices. Then, as he drew the meeting to a close, Vickery said, ‘I’ve been told that one of your officers, DI Angelica Metcalfe, was among those injured in the first attack on the M27.’
Temple creased his brow and said, ‘That’s right. She’s in hospital.’
‘How is she?’
‘She’s got a punctured lung, a couple of fractured ribs and a blood clot in her head,’ Temple said. ‘But I’m hopeful she’ll make a full recovery. Thank you for asking.’
Vickery nodded. ‘You probably don’t know this, but DI Metcalfe and I worked together on a case about a year ago. That was just before she left the Met to move to Southampton.’
‘Really? What was the case?’
‘The Joseph Roth murder. You might recall that he was the police officer who posed as a Muslim convert and helped us uncover a plot to blow up four London hotels. He was shot dead in the crossfire when we tried to arrest them.’
‘I remember the case,’ Temple said. ‘In fact Angel mentioned it just the other day. Something about a memorial service. She said she was hoping to go along to it.’
‘That’s right. The mayor of London has arranged a special gathering at a church in Catford this Friday to mark the first anniversary of Roth’s death. I’ll be attending myself if I can.’
‘Well, Angel won’t be going I’m afraid.’
‘And that’s a shame. It would have been good to see her again. She’s a nice person and a fine detective. I hope she soon recovers and I’d appreciate it if you would pass on my best to her.’
‘I’ll be glad to,’ Temple said and a second later the screen went blank.