Three Faces of West (2013) (2 page)

“Doesn’t look to me that any of those windows have been forced in any way Jack.” Said John, stating the obvious. “Do you really think there has to be a real security risk?”

“We have to be sure. This window has been partially cut, like the cabinet. Only something harder than glass could make these grooves, something like diamond.” He paused once again,

“Let’s have a look at this mantelpiece again.” Said Jack in a rather unsure voice.

Clearly he wasn’t happy with just that, he had to know more. However he was stopped rather abruptly if not politely,

“Sorry sir, forensics is working on that now. Can’t touch it I’m afraid.” Said one of the uniform officers upholding his duties.

While Jack was being stumped by the long arm of the law, John was examining the bookcase. Managing to slip through the police investigation he saw that two old leather bound books had fallen page open onto the expensive carpet floor.

The immediate striking thing about the open pages, even to the untrained forensic eye, was that they were not clean,

“What have you got there?” Asked Jack, after joining him at the bookcase.

“Look at these pages. See the marks? That’s not old, they were done recently.”

The marks were clear in the daylight to Jack’s eyes, “Yes they are. Look at the size of them.” He said.

Jack got to his feet again, turning round to a nearby table, his training taught him to observe every detail,

“I wonder if there are any clues to here to any potential security threat.” He remarked while examining some personal documents laid out on the surface.

These seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary here. A few external documents accompanied by handwritten scribbles what appeared to be bored doodles on one corner of the table. On the outset it did not appear to be suspicious, but Jack knew that if there was anything out of the ordinary, the police would be ensured to promptly inform him.

Slowly moving away from the table to meet John who by now had got back to his feet from kneeling to examine the books more closely, something struck him,

“Hang on,” He said noticing something out of the corner of his eye, “John, take a look at this.”

Both men noticed a small ornament on the floor. Obviously knocked off during the incident seemed to be the only explanation for the way it had fallen. There appeared to be no account to why the table was disrupted in such a way, but before John and Jack could respond an interesting commotion started to develop in the corner of the room. First four, then five officers congregated around a small cupboard quickly joined by two detectives feverishly analysed the scene.

It seemed to very quickly to be the focus of attention as they opened the cupboard by the door handles. Perhaps they found something inside? John and Jack watched on keeping out of the way in their capacity of non-police officers, this was not for them and they did not want to interfere. Taking advantage of the attention of the police officers, and in the investigative capacity of the two men Jack went to see the door. He did not need to physically touch the dark oak wooden door to see it was heavy duty. Jack turned to John, to point something out,

“This door was already locked. Clearly even the privileged elite classes are not immune from threats. Looks like nobody could have got in here.”

“I checked the security measures of the building with the police when we first arrived, the room doesn’t even have CCTV. Looks like our Duke felt this thing was safe locked away in a building in one of the most fashionable parts of London.” Replied John in a cynical undertone.

At that moment there wasn’t much for the two men to do. The police had this one covered in what appeared to be a normal crime scene, on this of all days. The law was stretched to breaking point with the events going on at Kings Cross, it was lucky the police has managed to get here at all.

“I’m not sure what if there’s any more we can do here.” Said Jack,

“Me neither,” Said john, “About time to fill out a report I think.”

Jack was about to give a suitable reply when he was politely interrupted,

“Excuse me, which one of you is Jack West?” Said an inquisitive voice. Jack turned his head to the speaker,

“I’m Jack, and you are?”

The man responded like for like in his rhetoric,

“Inspector Brian Waterson, National Crime Agency, Scotland Yard.” The man seemed friendly enough, with just a hint of caution that can be found in most detectives voices,

“Sorry for not getting here sooner but it’s chaos outside. The whole city’s in pandemonium. All regular investigations have been put on hold while we try and sort out what happened over at the train station. We are only here because of who the victim of this crime is.”

Jack looked on knowing that what the inspector said was right,

“Yes I know.” He continued, “May I introduce my partner John Hudson.”

The two men nodded to each other in mutual respect. As soon as the customary introductions were complete, the inspector unambiguously shuffled the two men off to the side of the room. It was a body language gesture saying that he was taking charge.

He continued, “Have you found anything indicating a security threat.”

“No” Replied Jack

“OK then, it looks like a high profile crime scene. No need for your attention. I’ll bet you guys from MI5 would rather be looking into the big show over in north London.” Said Inspector Waterson,

“As intelligence officers it’s our duty to investigate high profile events and determine any potential security threats to national security.” Replied Jack sounding official. Deep down he knew the inspector was right, he would rather be over at King’s Cross but he had to follow this assignment.

Continuing to probe the inspector, Jack tentatively tried to get any clues as to what happened here for his own sake, and sanity,

“So do you have any theories as to what happened yet?” He asked,

“Not yet, give it time.” Was the reply.

Using his police background as intuition he gathered the clues to cobble together a working theory,

“There’s been some activity over there in the cupboard; there’s been no sign of a break in, any forced door or window. I’ll bet the person you have been looking for was already here for some reason, waiting in that cupboard for the right time to strike.”

Waterson was interested in this, it sounded quite plausible,

“Perhaps, go on.”

Jack continued, “Whoever was here, tried to get hold of the necklace, and used some kind of diamond, cutter or something similar-‘

“Just like in the old movies.” Waterson remarked,

“Yes, look this cabinet is alarmed but somehow it was triggered, by tilt or motion perhaps.”

Waterson instantly looked for some kind of objection to validate the theory,

“I’ve been speaking to some of the detectives outside. Apparently they received the first call earlier at around 07:40 this morning. They reported an alarm, from the staff here. Apparently it is silent so a perpetrator could not be aware he is detected until it is too late.”

Jack though about this. He knew he was interfering in police matters, but he had to be sure of any possible security implications of the robbery,

“OK so it’s a silent alarm, perhaps he panicked when he heard staff arrive to investigate.” Suddenly John interrupted,

“If that fireplace is disturbed the robber panicked and tried to escape, knocking off objects onto the floor.”

Jack took over, “Looks like he tried to get out of the window by cutting it through to get to the latch, but there was no time. So he panicked to hide, the cupboard was the only place.”

Waterson began to quickly catch on to the theory,

“In doing so, knocking off those books, the table ornament and into the cupboard.” He said finishing off Jacks working theory with an enlightened spring in his voice.

It seemed very plausible, but there was still one gap to fill,

“What about the escape Mr West, any ideas?”

“That Mr Waterson, I don’t know. I’m not the police, that’s up to you to prove or disprove what I’ve said.”

“Forensics will confirm details.” Said Waterson.

Both John and Jack looked around, “So I don’t think there’s any other need for the security services to get involved. We’ll leave this in your hands.”

“Goodbye” Said Waterson in a gesture of manners while shaking the two men’s hands.

Both John and Jack left the room, as they went down the staircase there was a niggling feeling that something was not right. There appeared to be no security risk whatsoever here at least. They were not instructed to head off to the incident site so they both had no choice but to report back at Thames House, the headquarters of MI5. About halfway down the flights there was a sudden shouting and commotion. Both men looking at each other mutually decided to investigate, heading back to the room the first site they were greeted with was nearly all the officers gathered around a central figure near a far wall. Waterson situated in the central congregation right in the thick of the action,

“A new development inspector?” Said Jack,

“You could say that.” Replied Waterson, dragging one of his officers into view, he produced the one item they were not expecting to see. The supposedly Cullinan brooch right in front of him.

“It was found in the pot plant, looks like he dropped it in panic.” Said Waterson triumphantly,

“It’s no security threat, only an attempted robbery.” He continued,

“Looks like we are not needed after all.” Said Jack, “Once again, goodbye.”

This time they left for a second time. Down the stairs and out of the hallway and into the street. Outside the traffic was horrific, clearly the explosion at King’s Cross had caused intolerable havoc throughout the city. Most of the roads were gridlocked but they had to get back.

“You know John,” Said Jack in a raised voice. The air was still filled with the sound of sirens and pandemonium resulting from the confusion of the mornings events,

“When did Waterson say they received a call from the staff here?”

“About 07:40 this morning.” John responded, “Why?”

“Nothing, something is bugging me that’s all. Something isn’t right about the time. Anyway its one for them, not us, come on, let get back.”

They got in their silver Lexus IS250, and with John at the wheel, drove off down the street to join the maelstrom that was the chaotic London traffic.

Chapter 2:

Thames House, headquarters of MI5 in the banks of the Thames was at present the hive of activity dealing with the latest incident. Both John and Jack arrived in record time after taking a few backstreet shortcuts to minimise the journey time. As they entered the building the whole place was understandably a focus for controlled pandemonium.

Making their way up to their offices, passing through the corridors seemed like an intolerable effort in itself. Like the streets outside, everyone was trying to get somewhere fast, always coming and going against the direction both men were taking. It felt like more were coming rather than going against the direction the two men were taking thus creating the illusion that they were somehow being prevented from their destination.

Reaching the office was a bit of a temporary relief, until Jack opened the door. What greeted both him and John was a chaotic scene similar to the theft at the Duke of Westminster, but with the ferocity of the incident at King’s Cross. Proceeding to their office which both John and Jack shared could not protect them from the general discussions mainly about the morning’s events. Even though everyone in the building was on the same side, this did not stop them from barging into one another in a frantic dance for which the two men could not escape from. As a result it took a good few minutes longer to reach their office than it ordinarily would do.

Once they reached their little corner of the department both men quickly entered to get out of the melodrama shutting the door behind them. Instantly the noise from outside became a muffled blur signalling they had both found a little piece of sanctuary from the hectic outside,

“Well,” Said Jack,

John replied in a typical fashion, “Did you hear some of those comments? Some of them are saying that we know think it was not accident.” He said with an unsurprising tone,

“Clearly it is. Some kind of bombing, perhaps suicide, or placed somewhere?” Was the reply.

Sitting down to fill out the report was what the two intelligence officers did. This was the administrative side of secret work; someone had to fill out the paperwork. With the sounds of the distressed city in the background accompanied by a longing to get back out there, minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like an intolerable age. Report sheet after report sheet had to be filled in for superior eyes to gaze over to determine any possible future security threat. Boring work, but someone had to do it.

Filling out the paperwork was taking forever, yet Jack was not fully engaged in it. The one thing he had on his mind was the one detail ironically that was vital to the report he was filling out, the timings. John picked up on this too,

“These times you were on about in the car, any ideas?” He asked,

“No, not really” Was the reply, John could tell that Jack was slightly frustrated at the mental block. He was a man who liked to get all the facts right before moving on.

John wanted to deliver a suitable reply but was a little afraid of the response. It did not matter; they had to finish these reports before a debriefing session. This one of all days was going to be far from normal, in light of what had happened this morning, it just made their case pale in insignificance.

The two men finished the report and Jack as the senior of the two was tasked with delivering the document to the section leader,

“Here we go.” Said Jack, “Time to deliver the results.”

“I’ll stay here and monitor what’s going on.” Replied John.

As Jack went out of the room John logged into his account on the computer. Inputting his password gave him specific clearance and therefore access only to very specific intelligence to what he was privy to.

Ten minutes passed before Jack returned to the office. John waiting for his cue, held off until Jack had closed the door firmly. Once he had done so het let himself speak,