Three Faces of West (2013) (7 page)

“A poison like that would be extremely potent, and fatal.”

John added to the conclusion, “Something that causes aggression akin to madness followed by eventual death.”

“Brought on by delusional hallucinations.” Agreed the scientist, “Such a virulent mixture like this requires advanced toxicological and chemistry knowledge. Whoever formed such a poison was no amateur.”

“And that’s what the police think at the moment.” Said Jack, turning to John he had seen enough,

“I think it’s time we went back to the office. Let’s see if there’s anyone on file with a known history of such knowledge.”

John obviously thought this was the next step,

“We can also do a general sweep to see if there’s anything out of the ordinary across the internet. Perhaps there is a security lead.”

Upon their return to the office, the ramifications of what they had revealed had hit them both. They knew they had discovered the presence of a highly toxic poison, and it could be a potential security risk. If it was, than it was definitely a matter for them and not just the police,

“So a politician is murdered, likely poisoned by a drug cocktail that made him go mad first.” Said Jack, but John wanted to piece if together further still,

“So the most plausible explanation so far is that he was tied up, ingested the poison, and probably was tortured for some reason.”

“Looks that way doesn’t it? Anyway that’s for the police to decide if that hypothesis is correct. For now that’s all they have to go on. But what about the motive? Don’t forget, if one junior politician is murdered in this way, then the threat to other senior members of government are just as great. And that poses a definite security risk.”

John sat at the computer to begin his search, there was no problem logging on to his system and he set to work. He began by scouring the internet for any potential clues, who were they? What was their motive? Was it political, racial or ideological? The global reach of the internet meant that it wasn’t too long before he came across news websites harbouring rumours and gossip,

“Look at this, more criticism of the security services. Says here that given recent events and the murder, public faith in national security has plummeted. It asks here if this country has an actual security service and if so why is it not protecting us. It makes MI5 look impotent and us look like idiots.”

Jack tried to respond, “Just gossip. Ignore it; you and I both know there is something deeper happening here. Look, you continue to search for a possible known suspect, search the personnel files, access it through the national database and see if anyone stands out. I’m off to see Harvey to report back.”

John looked on as Jack left the room leaving John with his computer and the entire nation on his files. He had a lot of work to do.

Half an hour passed before Jack returned looking rather energetic, almost agitated. John, who had been sifting through database file observed his partner’s state,

“Harvey has given us the go-ahead to pursue this case. He clearly thinks this is a security threat to other high ranking members of government and possibly others. He wants to know who they are, what do they want and why.” He said turning to the window to look at the bright morning outside,

“Something is going on out there John, and I want to know what.”

John got up and out of his seat grabbing an A4 file in the process; he had some news of his own,

“Well we may have a lead. While you were away I searched through national databases for any individual specialising in poisons. It came up with too many, so I refined my search, cross referenced with internet matches. That gave me a hook; apparently someone was arrested about two years ago for terrorism offenses involving poisons.” He said while handing him a thin file. Opening the light brown cardboard cover Jack read the info inside, he was impressed but still had some questions,

“The poison of choice for terrorists is usually ricin.”

John, undeterred pressed on with his findings,

“Yes but this one person stands out as interesting, his name is Maxwell Grey. 37 years old and born in this country he is the son of an immigrant from Georgia who married a woman over here. Becoming a dissident around 10 years ago and radicalised by a hatred of authority, he was responsible for the bombing of an administrative district office in southern Russia which killed 17 people. He fled back to the UK about 8 years ago therefore evading Russian authorities.”

This sounded like the ideal man, a possibly candidate behind the King’s Cross attack he continued to listen to John,

“Russia had so far unsuccessfully tried to extradite Grey from the UK but to no avail, but listen to this, here’s the interesting bit.”

This was the part Jack wanted to hear. He move in a little closer to listen attentively,

Before becoming radicalised and heading east, he was a student at Bristol University, School of Chemistry. He was there for at least four years eventually leaving with a Masters degree in the subject.”

John as slightly smug in his triumph, this man looked like the perfect fit. But there were still holes in the story,

“Highly educated, knowledgeable and determined, sounds like a real terrorist role model. Is there any more? How do we find our dissident?” Asked Jack,

John revealed more, “Just after he fled from Russia, Grey was implicated in an attempted contamination plot of the office of the Mayor of London, another high profile authority target. Thankfully it was foiled but in the subsequent inquiry afterward it was found that Grey tried to release a poison called Atropine, a liquid substance derived from the Datura plant!”

“The same plant used to derive Scopolamine back in the lab.” Replied Jack. Clearly he was catching on,

“Yes enough released through various methods is sufficient to cause headaches, nausea, dizziness and general disorientation. That was enough for the police to charge Mr Grey with terrorism offences. The investigation was carried out by the Serious Organised Crime Agency led by, according to this, our very own Inspector Brian Waterson!”

This was definitely a positive lead; the man clearly had form, a motive and history to boot. Jack desperately wanted to find him,

“Where is he now?” He asked knowing that John probably had the answers,

“Exactly where I managed to derive this info from, the police files, intelligence sources, well only as much as I can obtain with my level of clearance, and the prison service. Currently he is being held in Belmarsh Prison.”

“Then that is where we need to go.” Stated Jack.

They proceeded to get their coats, only interrupted by the ring of Jack’s telephone. Quickly reacting West turned round and grabbed the receiver. Instantly recognising the voice on the other end, told him exactly what the call was about,

“Right we’re on our way.” He said sternly. Things were moving along now,

“Who was that?” Asked John,

“The lab, some kind of development. Come on lets go.”

Both men stormed out of their offices towards the corridor. They hadn’t got 400 yards until they inevitably bumped into the scientist they had earlier conversed with,

“Hello again, Listen I’ve done a cross reference with local hospitals in the greater London area, checked stock records for items and the like. I have a match! Remember the number on the scalpel? That was a tracking number; I found the supplier and obtained their medical delivery records. The number 774459 indicates it comes from Lewisham Hospital, right next to Lewisham Park.”

This rang bells with Jack. Instantly his instincts about the scopolamine came to the fore. If that was a medical drug, a hospital would be the perfect place to obtain it, same with a scalpel. That would be if the scientist dipped in with a slight variation,

“Tracking this device I found one thing out, it’s not used in general surgery; it is used on cadavers in the hospital mortuary.”

He carried on. Clearly he had been busy himself,

“I know this hospital; I’ve done some research work there before, at the moment there are building or road works happening opposite. Perhaps your stone fragments and hessian could have come from there?”

Jack agreed, “It’s a possibility. We’ll have to see, thanks for your help. If there’s anything else let us know will you.”

“Will do.”

Leaving West and Hudson to go back to the lab, both men stood in the corridor. Jack began wondering what to do next, he now a more than one lead to follow. They decoded to chase the Belmarsh line first, heading back to the offices to get their coats was a fateful decision. Entering the offices they were stopped again, this time by Harvey. Ever present in his three piece power suits he cut a powerful figure,

“I’ve just had word from the Met police; I know you have been following up possible leads to this case so I’m telling you both now. Thanks to the autopsy examinations of the body they believe with some confidence that the killers indeed had a poison that causes madness, it was contained in the decanter that was broken and whoever made this attack forced the potion down Finnin’s throat almost drowning him in the process. In a fit of rage he lashed out and bit at one of the killers, apparently with some considerable violence.”

“They told you all that?” Asked John

“I requested an update, I don’t have to tell them the reason, they have an obligation to divulge any assisting evidence when it comes to national security. I did it for you two, I suggest you use it.” Was Harvey’s straight cut reply. Jack decided to report there and then,

“We have been doing some investigating. We have a possible suspect, and man called Maxwell Grey, English born half-Georgian dissident. Highly educated, in chemistry and has carried out attacks at home and in Russia.”

“I’ve heard of this, is this the one who tried to poison the Mayor a while back?” Said Harvey,

“Yes and he was caught, tried and charged under the Terrorism Act. He’s being held currently in Belmarsh prison.” Interrupted John,

“This has all the hallmarks of his handy work, but don’t forget he’s quite intelligent if he’s inside he could have hired assailants to do the dirty work for him. And that really does pose a security threat.” Asserted Harvey,

“Just what we were thinking.” Replied Jack,

“Then I suggest you go to Belmarsh and confront our friend.” Ordered Harvey while turning round making his way back to his private office.

West and Hudson followed suit, making the way back to their offices to get their coats before being interrupted again, this time by a junior member of the team. Some additional information had come their way on Finnin himself,

“Excuse me sir, this just came through.” The junior handed West an email printout,

“According to New Scotland Yard Finnin had an understudy, a student from the London School of Economics seconded to him as an intern. Somebody called David.”

“What do the police know about this David?” Asked West not expecting a definite answer,

“According to the police report this young lad called David had shown disciplinary issues both at the university and at the secondment and was therefore volatile in nature.” Replied the junior,

“Sounds quite a character.” John remarked,

“Very much so, where does this David live?” Asked Jack

“Finchley” Was the reply from the young official. North London, in the borough of Barnet, and on high ground, yet another lead in this case. If the police hadn’t followed it, both West and Hudson had to oblige,

“Where are we going next, to Belmarsh, Lewisham or Finchley?” Asked John,

Jack replied swiftly, “Belmarsh. That’s where our potential criminal mastermind is so that’s where we are going.”

John looked on pensive wondering why they were following up on so many leads. He knew they had to follow up direct threats to security, but multiple leads and investigations are for the police, not the security service,

“That’s fine, but can I remind you that we have not been cleared by the police to follow so many lines of enquiry. I know they have been cooperative but what if we interfere with the course of justice more than we have already, we could prejudice any future trial and if that allows a terror suspect to walk free then how do we look?”

Jack afforded John the outburst, but he had a good reason to because he knew more than his partner ever could at this time,

“In the interests of security the intelligence service comes above the police force. If they have a problem they go above our heads. In the meantime we just keep our heads down and get on with it. If we get shot at or get dirty then so be it. It isn’t our job to complain, we just do what we are told to. No matter whatever the circumstances we always come first.”

This was the second time John had questioned the motives of Jack’s methods. The case was rapidly becoming more complex than before, and it was showing a strain on their professional relationship.

Chapter 5:

Belmarsh Prison, 10:00 am, the brightness of the day outside only tempered by a slight breeze. West and Hudson arrived at the front of the prison, pulling up in the car park. The great vast high walls surrounding the compound spanned before them crowned by the main red brick gate gatehouse in the middle. Making their way across the car park took no time at all to reach the brown doors of the main reception, upon entering and looking up, John could not help but notice the obviously visible CCTV camera on the outside watching the entrance,

“God knows whoever that camera has captured.” He thought to himself.

Going through the automatic glass doors the reception felt quite warm inside. Obviously this was the comfortable inviting part of the prison but the rest would not be as such. Even so there was an atmosphere of gloominess about the place, the walls, white and stippled with paint, the brown out of date carpet covering the floor, those long fluorescent light bulbs you only get in hospitals adorning the ceiling. The only splash of colour to alleviate the drabness was the large A3 type statutory posters on the wall indicating the prison regulations, health and safety practices and other smaller notices. Accompanying them were the other adornments in the form of tiny posters warning of the dangers of crime.