Remember Remember (34 page)

“Quite so, but that does not prove the WMD was made in Iraq.”

Rock nodded in agreement, “True sir, quite true.”

Admiral Fraser rose from his chair, looked around and waited for silence, “I must now bring this meeting to a close gentlemen, in front of you is a file giving as much information as we know. Your job is to solve those top four priority issues,” he turned to Bagshaw and Rock and said, “I need to see you two now.”

The assembled personnel vacated the room leaving the Admiral alone with Bagshaw and Rock.

“Major; you did not mention you believed Alan Johnson was involved in this affair.”

“No sir, I did not, everybody informs me that my evidence is only circumstantial and that he is a war hero who should be left alone.”

“So is he still under surveillance?”

“Yes sir he is, twenty four seven.”

“And?”

“And nothing, he does absolutely nothing to make us suspect any more than I have suspected since I first went to Turkey.”

The admiral gazed at both his colleagues and again turned to the Major.

“Has the discovery of these two containers made a difference in your opinion?”

“Yes sir, Johnson was there at Olu Deniz, I believe he met with others; a man was murdered; one of the men in Turkey was then in Rhodes when Johnson visited that island and now we find two sunken containers off the coast at Olu Deniz. It may still be only circumstantial evidence, but there’s an awful lot of it.”

Fraser smiled and replied, “I think a man’s instincts are often correct Major, I think you’d better keep a good eye on Mr Johnson.”

“I’d like to bring him in again for questioning sir.”

Bagshaw interrupted, “You’ve already questioned him two or three times and you’ve been surveying him for months. What will he now tell you that he hasn’t before?”

“Perhaps our questioning was too soft Commander. I would like to bring him in for interrogation at the Marham facility.”

“Marham facility,” growled Bagshaw, “you want to torture the information out of him?”

Fraser coughed for attention, “Don’t let’s discuss Marham here gentlemen.”

“But sir, you can’t start bringing in innocent people and subjecting them to the kind of treatment dished out at Guantanamo Bay on circumstantial evidence. Especially a UK citizen who is C of E and a war hero. If the papers got hold of that we’d be dead in the water,” declared Bagshaw.

“Commander I am aware of the problem and the risks, but we do have 950 kilos of weapons grade anthrax to locate before somebody does something with it; which might make everybody in the UK dead in the water,” retorted Rock.

“Major, if you were to find one more reasonable piece of evidence linking Johnson with this WMD then I will grant you your wish and God help Alan Johnson,” the Admiral looked at his colleagues nodded and then continued, “but until then it’s surveillance, purely surveillance, from which I want independent reports from you on a weekly basis and obviously instant contact should any new evidence be found.”

Fraser rose to his feet, shook hands with all present then said, “The meeting is now closed gentlemen.”

Once again Rock found himself waiting for a tube train at St James’s station, but this time the Commander had walked with him. Bagshaw took the Major’s hand and held it in a firm handshake.

“Keep a close eye on Johnson and if you want any more assistance let me know; by the way, was Johnson left alone after April?”

“No sir,” replied Rock, “we kept a small team tracking him.”

“Even though your orders were to return to the Turkish desk.”

“I did return to the desk sir, it was Sergeant Lawrence who commanded the surveillance.”

“And did he find anything?”

“Not a bloody thing sir, Johnson’s as clean as a whistle, almost too clean; he does so very little.”

“Well get some more evidence and you will have your wish to interrogate him in depth.”

He nodded and smiled at his boss, “Yes sir, I may get my wish, I just hope it’s not too late, good night sir.”

“Good night Major.”

The Major turned toward the tube station to begin his journey back north to Bramhall. He would have a few drinks, courtesy of Richard Branson, on the train home, get an early night and debrief Sergeant Lawrence and his team early the next morning.

Bagshaw turned back towards St James Park, walking slowly through the crowds, a worried expression on his face.

May 18
th
, 9.30 am, Alma Lodge Hotel, Stockport.

The Alma Lodge was an old building set back from the busy A6. The large front windows overlooked the car park and Major Rock, having breakfasted, sat in a window seat in one of the private meeting rooms. He gazed out of the window looking for the arrival of Sergeant Lawrence and pondered his options with regard to Alan Johnson. All his instincts told him there was a link between the findings in Olu Deniz and Johnson but he still had to make the connection and he knew his adversary knew. Just one connection, one more link in the chain and he would have the authority to lock Johnson away for 28 days under the new anti-terrorism laws. Twenty eight days at Marham would be enough to break any man. Rock was no sadist, he would much prefer those being interrogated to tell the truth, but he knew that was unrealistic and especially so with men like Johnson. He also felt that brute force, physical beatings and electrical shock torture would close down Johnson, stop him talking and make him even more determined to carry out his mission.

Marham would be the place, a modern, clean clinic using drugs to facilitate interrogation which when administered by experts could extract the maximum information from virtually anybody. Was Marham ethical, if the answer to that was “yes”, then the general public would know of its existence. Perhaps it wasn’t ethical but it damn sure was necessary and he could live with his conscience if the work done at Marham saved the UK from another London Underground bombing, or an attack on a major city centre. His thoughts were ended by the arrival of Sergeant Lawrence who beamed at him as he entered the room.

“Welcome back,” said Lawrence as he closed the door and grasped the hand of the Major, shaking it firmly and smiling.

Rock returned the Sergeant’s gaze, smiled and responded, “What’s new, what’s our Mr Johnson been getting up to while I’ve been away?”

Lawrence seated himself in a comfortable arm chair and watched as the Major poured two coffees. Lawrence added milk and sugar to his cup and stirred the contents’, he put down the spoon in the saucer and settled himself in the chair, then replied, “Our Mr Johnson does everything an ordinary person might do, with the exception of communication sir. He hardly ever makes phone calls, doesn’t send emails and doesn’t seem to write to anybody.”

“Nothing new there, that’s the type of guy he is.”

“He spends his time quietly at home, goes to the gym three or four times a week and spends the rest of his time in the Brown Cow or with Jacky, a very average man sir.”

“Tell me more about Jacky.”

“We have a complete file on her, she’s very ordinary, a Stockport girl born and bred. She’s thirty five years old, born in Reddish. Her father was a store man at the brewery, her mother a housewife. She has two brothers and one sister; she’s the youngest. She got a job at the Brown Cow when she was eighteen and she’s been working there ever since.”

Rock stood and looked out of the window, surveying the hotel car park and busy A6 then replied, “You’re telling me she’s worked at the Brown Cow for seventeen years.”

“Yes sir.”

“Then she’ll know a great deal of what’s been going on around here for the last few years Sergeant. People in pubs talk, especially after a few pints,” he smiled then changed the subject, “so how often does Johnson take her out?”

“Two or three times a week.”

“Do they spend the night together?”

“Often sir, at both addresses.”

“I think we should bring our lovely Jacky in for further questioning Sergeant.”

“Do we have a reason?”

“She is helping us with our continuing enquiries into a murder investigation.”

“Ok, do you want me to bring her in today sir?” he enquired.

“Yes, the sooner the better, bring her in mid afternoon when it’s quiet at the Brown Cow.”

Lawrence nodded agreement.

“By the way, what papers does Johnson read?” questioned Rock.

The Sergeant pulled out a small pocket notebook and flicked through the pages.

“He gets the Times delivered in the morning and both the Manchester Evening News and the London Evening Standard in the evening. On Sunday he gets the Sunday Times.”

“That’s interesting, why a London paper,” pondered Rock then continued,” I’d like you to order those papers, have them delivered here, and get one of your blokes to read through each paper looking especially at the personal columns and adverts.”

“But looking for what?”

“I don’t really know, but obviously anything connected to Olu Deniz or Turkey or the Middle East and anything that doesn’t quite add up.”

“You think Johnson may be communicating through the papers sir?”

“It’s an old trick and he’s an older guy, so that might just be how they do it. Now please go and arrange our meeting with Jacky.”

He turned from the window and Lawrence stood to go. The meeting was over.

May 18
th
, 15.45, Stockport Police Station.

Jacky was seated in Interview room two opposite Major Rock and Sergeant Lawrence. She was wearing a black jumper, black trousers and soft black shoes. She had no makeup on and her hair tied in a bun made her thin face look even slimmer. She was an attractive woman who dressed down to do her job behind the bar at the Brown Cow and the lack of makeup seemed to exaggerate the worry lines on her face.

Rock smiled at her and began the interview as Lawrence started the audiotape.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice Jacky, the reason we wish to talk with you as explained by Lawrence is our continuing enquiries into the murder of a man in Olu Deniz, Turkey.”

She nodded, but placed her hands on the desk and leaned towards the Major. “I’ve already told you all I know about that, which is sweet f.a.”

“I know Jacky,” smiled the Major, “now please relax, we know you and Alan have become a lot closer since we last met. We know you spent Christmas together and see each other two or three times a week, therefore it may be that Alan has talked with you about what happened in Turkey.”

She looked directly into the Major’s gaze and spoke with determination, “it may come as a surprise to you, but we have better things to talk about than bloody Olu Deniz; as far as I’m concerned that trip was a long time ago and it nearly cost me my relationship with Alan.”

“What makes you say that Jacky?”

“Because I met another bloke out there.”

“And Alan didn’t like that.”

“He didn’t even know until we were on our way back.”

“Why Jacky, was it because he was never there?”

“Because he was always on the piss Major, that’s why.”

She removed her hands from the desk, sat back and started picking the skin around her thumbs.

“OK Jacky, it obviously didn’t cost you the relationship, did it.”

“No.”

“And Alan never mentions Olu Deniz at all.”

“No.”

“Does he ever talk about the cruise you went on and people he may have met?”

“No,” she emphasised the ‘O’ and shook her head.

“You’re not being very helpful Jacky.”

“And you’re not asking me any questions which I can help you with, are you?”

Lawrence interrupted, “Jacky, I know you may find these interviews annoying but we still have a dead man; murdered in Olu Deniz at the time you were there and that fact will not go away.”

“So were hundreds of thousands of other people,” she retaliated.

“Yes there were,” reassured the Major, “now can you tell me, has Alan spoken with you about any future plans?”

She seemed to relax a little and her facial expression softened, “We talk about our future, yes.”

“What do you talk about?”

“About the fact we may become more than just an item.”

“What, marriage?” declared Rock.

“I wouldn’t go so far as that now, but maybe one day.”

“Then you’ll be going on holiday again together soon?” enquired Rock.

“Perhaps we will, and to the races if you must know.”

“When Jacky,” the Major tried to soften his voice.

Her face hardened again, “It’s none of your business, but I suppose you’ll bloody well find out in any case, so I’ll tell you, we’re going racing to York in June, on the thirteenth and fourteenth.”

“You’re staying overnight?” asked Lawrence.

“For two or three nights actually, Alan says it depends on how much we win,” she replied.

“Do you know where you’ll be staying?” enquired Rock.

“Yes, Alan has a friend in York who owns a hotel, I can’t think of the name of it, but you probably already know it don’t you?” sneered Jacky.