Cut to the Bone (34 page)

Read Cut to the Bone Online

Authors: Alex Caan

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Women Sleuths, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Kidnapping, #Spies & Politics, #Political, #Technothrillers, #Thrillers

BOOK: Cut to the Bone
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‘The warlord.’

Cross whistled. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I need evidence to be sure,’ said Zain.

‘What are you mixed up in?’

‘That’s what I’m hoping you’ll find out for me. Before I can proceed against KNG, I need some hard evidence.’

The hard drives disappeared into inside pockets within Cross’s coat. ‘I’ll get someone on it, see what we can find.’

‘Thank you, sir. And another thing. The KNG whistle-blower, he needs protection.’

‘My sort of protection?’

‘Yes. Can you get him into a safe house?’

‘Where is he now?’

‘He’s gone home to collect some things.’

‘Let me know where you want him picked up.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Come round for dinner sometime. Julia asks after you, occasionally.’

‘I will, give her my regards.’

They shook hands, and walked off in separate directions.

Chapter Ninety-five

It was 3 a.m. Kate was still awake. Harris had told her he would Skype her later. He needed to explain where he had been earlier. She knew his lack of communication meant it was somehow connected to Cain and Byrne.

Her mother was asleep upstairs. The alarm was set, protecting the doors and windows. Kate had found her Glock, loaded it with bullets she kept in her safe. The gun rested on the computer unit next to her. Easy to reach. She hadn’t used it for a while.

A friend in the US embassy had helped her acquire it. She loved those diplomatic pouches.

Harris’s face filled her computer screen, his voice in her ears through the headset she wore.

‘Are you certain it was the same man from MINDNET?’ she said.

‘Yes, of course. I didn’t look at him for long, but it’s him.’

Yes, because most people didn’t have face blindness.

‘What did he say?’

Kate listened as Zain told her about DCR, Pierre Sese, coltan mining and the logistical support KNG had provided for a massacre.

‘Is there any evidence for this?’ said Kate.

‘Richard printed out emails and documents, but he had limited time to do it. He said he gave them to Ruby, didn’t keep copies himself. He claims she scanned it all in, shredded and destroyed the originals.’

‘Convenient,’ said Kate. ‘So we have the word of a man who won’t even tell you his real name? We need more.’

‘I’m working on it. It will be on Ruby’s hard drives.’

‘We’ve looked,’ she said.

‘Not deep enough. I met my old boss tonight. DCI Raymond Cross. Gave them to him. He’s going to get someone to examine them for me.’

Another independent action, she thought. A mix between resentment at being left out of his working methodology, and admiration for his initiative.

‘Why didn’t your source go to the police? Or the press?’

‘He said he was worried about his kids. They don’t live with him; he hardly sees them. Loves them, though. He also knows about Harry Cain and his links with the PM. Newton is on his payroll, and that means Hope is.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘I’ve arranged a safe house for him.’

‘Who signed off on it?’ Zain couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I see; DCI Cross.’

‘Richard didn’t see any other way to do this,’ said Zain.

‘There’s always a way,’ she said.

‘His was to use Ruby. Do you remember the
Kony 2012
video?’

Kate said she didn’t.

‘It was a video made and posted online about the Ugandan warlord Joseph Kony. He was involved in recruiting child soldiers, mass atrocities. Anyway, the video has had a hundred million views on YouTube, and started a mass global campaign. Teens that had been obsessed with make-up and porn suddenly developed a conscience. Wanted Kony found and brought to justice. They say he’s hiding out in DCR now.’

‘I’m beginning to fear the power of open-platform video sharing,’ said Kate.

‘Everyone in the system is afraid, trying to control it behind the scenes.’

‘It’s the absence of a filter,’ said Kate. ‘What happens when somebody posts false allegations on there? We already had someone falsely accused of being a paedophile; they ended up dead at the hand of vigilantes.’

‘Everything has its risks,’ said Zain.

‘So this Richard was trying to recreate
Kony 2012
, aimed at Sese and exposing KANGlobal?’

‘Exactly. He contacted Ruby, told her what we know, gave her the files he had printed. He said she had already made the video talking about the issues. It would have been a nightmare. More so after what Michelle found. Richard confirmed it, too, said the IPO for KNG is two billion dollars.’

The initial public offering on the biggest stock exchanges in the world.

‘And if Ruby had gone public?’

‘The price would have plummeted and KNG would have lost hundreds of millions off their value. No one likes touching conflict mining, not openly. It’s done behind closed doors, like coke snorting by celebs.’

That made sense. Conflict minerals and diamonds were still being sold and bought; the trade didn’t stop because of moral or ethical issues. It just happened where nobody looked, and those involved had too much to lose by exposing their transactions.

‘That’s not all, though,’ said Zain.

‘Isn’t that enough? If we can find evidence pointing to this, we can go after KNG and MINDNET.’

‘I think we may have another option, even if we don’t find the paperwork,’ said Harris.

‘How?’

‘Have you ever heard of the ten-minute rule?’ said Zain.

Chapter Ninety-six

The morning was fresh, but filled with the sweet decay of leaves and the smoky gunpowder from fireworks that people continued to let off even days after Bonfire Night. Kate breathed in the fall smells, closed her eyes. For a moment, she let herself remember. Life before her mother was attacked, before she’d had to run away.

‘They kicked us out,’ her mother used to say.

‘No, Mother, we left of our own choice. They made it hard for us, sure, but we made the decision to go.’

Kate tried to hold on to that, because the idea of what had been done to both herself and her mother turned her blood into lava.

‘You OK?’ said Zain, setting his car alarm, startling her.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Is she expecting us?’

‘I said nine-thirty; she said to meet her here.’

The house was on St George’s Road, a quiet street of white-washed houses near Elephant and Castle. Westminster was a brisk walk in the opposite direction.

At the front door, Kate heard a dog bark inside the house. The woman who opened the door was in her late forties, possibly early fifties. She had auburn hair, tinged with red, dark eyes and a friendly manner. She was holding on to the biggest dog Kate had seen in a while; it came to the woman’s thigh in height. Like so many dogs that size, it had a smile on its face.

‘Don’t mind Benjy,’ the woman said. ‘Or I’ll put him out in the garden if he bothers you.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Kate said.

Zain was already rubbing the dog’s head, speaking to it in baby language.

They followed the woman into a spacious lounge. A real fire was lit in the grate. Benjy settled himself on a rug in front of it.

‘He’s beautiful,’ said Zain.

‘Yes, he is, isn’t he? I needed something to fill the children-shaped holes in the house. My husband works away a lot; he’s a consultant for the oil industry.’

Kate was surprised by this. Margaret Walsh was an MP who they were here to question about KANGlobal’s mining. The link with oil production seemed ominous.

‘He works on developing greener technologies for oil extraction and refinement,’ Margaret explained. ‘It’s how we can afford to live so close to Westminster.’

‘It’s you we’ve come to speak to, Mrs Walsh,’ said Kate.

‘I only mention that because people always wonder, after the expenses scandal. I was one of the few untouched by it, but I stand by the others. I am lucky, damned fortunate. Without those expenses, others not in my fortunate position may struggle to enter politics. And if I hadn’t married Gregg, I would have struggled. I was born in a terrace house in Bury, just above the poverty line. Getting out, moving up, it’s never easy from those beginnings.’

‘You live here during the week?’ said Kate.

‘Yes, and weekends back up north at my family home. My children are in Manchester, as are my siblings and my mother. Although she’s in a home now.’

Kate wanted to pursue that. Understand when Margaret made the decision to move her mother into a home, what stage had her mother hit to prompt the decision. So Kate could be prepared . . . when it happened to her own.

‘Your private life is none of our business, Mrs Walsh,’ Kate said instead.

‘Please, call me Maggie,’ the MP said. ‘You said on the phone that this is about Ruby Day?’

‘Yes. I believe you knew her?’ said Kate.

‘Yes, she had been in contact with me recently.’

‘Where are you the MP for?’ said Zain.

‘An inner-city ward in Manchester called Gorton and Longsight,’ said Maggie.

She was wearing black trousers and a purple shirt, which revealed her curves; a woman comfortable with her body and sure of her appeal. Kate felt an affinity with her; this was a rare woman, she could tell. An MP that was in the job because she genuinely wanted to make a difference.

‘Can I get you a tea or coffee at all?’ said Maggie.

‘No, I’m sure you have enough to do. We won’t take up too much of your time,’ said Kate.

‘Why did Ruby approach you?’ said Zain.

‘I used to be a junior minister in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. I resigned because I disagreed with a contract the FCO was overseeing, in Angola. For oil reserves, but the company involved was treating the Angolans unfairly.’

‘You’re on record as resigning over ethics in corporate affairs in Africa,’ said Zain. ‘Ruby would have come to you purposely, then?’

‘Yes, she did.’

‘What did you discuss?’ said Kate.

‘She told me she had evidence that a company was involved in illegal mining in DRC.’

‘Did she name the company?’ said Kate.

Maggie rubbed her jaw, her eyes filling with a hardness she had hidden from them up until now.

‘Yes, she did. KANGlobal.’

‘Had you heard of them previously?’

Maggie looked down at her hands, making a washing motion with them, before meeting Kate’s gaze. ‘My husband worked for them. He was a consultant, for a pipeline they were trying to run through Kazakhstan. And I came across their file, when I was at the FCO.’

‘In what context?’ said Kate.

‘I signed off on their purchase of some coltan mines.’

‘Was there anything wrong with the contract?’ said Kate.

‘No. I had some researchers look into it. It was all legitimate. A corporation in DRC was selling land to KNG, where a land survey suspected the presence of high deposits of coltan. The report said the area was unstable, that Pierre Sese was rumoured to be hiding out close by. But the DRC corporation and KNG were legitimate. The price was low, in their opinion, but there were no working mines. So I signed off on it.’

‘Ruby had another story?’ said Kate.

‘Yes. She claimed the DRC firm was a front for Sese, that the land purchased already had working mines present. If that was the case, not only did KNG lie to me, but the researchers were also economical with the truth.’

‘Who did the research?’ asked Zain.

‘Yoko Kosh,’ said Maggie.

Kate knew the company. They were one of the big six, like Ernst & Young, Deloitte, Price Waterhouse.

‘So, in essence, I oversaw the sale of mines at a fraction of their cost. Worse than that, I oversaw the sale and transfer of funds to Sese,’ she said.

‘Was there never an investigation? Did no one ever find this out?’ said Zain.

‘These areas of the world, they’re not cities like London. They are lawless, forgotten corners of our planet. Who has the resources to solve the hell that is DRC?’

‘And when you found out about the illegal mining? My source said you were going to use the ten-minute rule, or something?’ said Zain.

‘Yes,’ said Maggie.

‘Can you elaborate?’ said Kate. ‘What is the ten-minute rule, exactly?’

Chapter Ninety-seven

Maggie had gone to make them drinks. She insisted, as they’d been talking for a while. Kate realised there was a reason the woman had obviously cleared her diary this morning; she wasn’t going to be a quick interview. There were layers to what she had to tell them.

‘Do you remember what it was like when Ruby disappeared?’ Zain asked Kate.

He was throwing a red toy for Benjy to catch, and bring back.

‘It’s only been a few days, but it feels so long ago, and too unreal,’ he continued. ‘At first I thought: young girl, gone clubbing, forgotten her phone or something. Then the videos, and I just thought, OK, I got it wrong. A psycho serial killer has her. And then her bastard boyfriend, I thought it was him. And now? Mining contracts in West Africa? Fucking warlords? How did we get here?’

Kate didn’t know how to reply. Maggie came back with a tray of drinks.

‘None for you,’ she said to Benjy, as he came towards her.

Zain was drinking tea, like Maggie, while Kate had gone for her usual black coffee. She welcomed the instant hit from the caffeine, her body tired after barely three hours’ sleep.

‘The ten-minute rule is complex, but vital – although, for the most part, it can be ineffective,’ Maggie started explaining as soon as she sat down. ‘Every week after Prime Minister’s Question Time, MPs are allowed to bring their own bills in for discussion. Most bills that are debated in parliament are party approved, part of the manifesto, so known in advance. They usually form legislation to honour election promises, or guide policy.’

‘Cutting benefits or privatising the NHS?’ said Zain.

‘Don’t be puerile,’ said Maggie, but smiled as she said it. ‘If a member wants something discussed that isn’t part of planned policy, then they use the ten-minute rule. There is no system to get your ten minutes; it’s not based on merit or who you know. It’s whoever gets through the doors of the Public Bill Office first, three weeks before you want your ten minutes. It’s a horrendous system, and you’ll find MPs sleeping outside the PBO to get their place.’

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