Sleeper Cell (23 page)

‘No. Which is a big problem for your theory. If the CIA are behind this, they must have help from either the Palestinians, which seems highly unlikely, or the Israelis, which granted is possible, but what’s their end game? If the CIA and IDF want the talks to fail, then there are better ways of going about it than bombing London.’

‘Maybe they were trying to shift the blame onto the PLO.’

‘It’s too intricate. Too risky. No, there’s no evidence that the talks are in any way linked to the bomb, or at least not by the same people.’

‘Richard Morgan agrees?’

‘He won’t hear of delaying or cancelling. He’s spent years bringing this together. His efforts damn nearly got him assassinated five years ago when he was Shadow Foreign Secretary. He’s got a lot riding on it.’

Leila sat for a moment looking our across the river.

‘What if he’s got more riding on it than just his reputation?’ she said.

‘Like what?’

‘Ruth.’

‘His daughter?’

‘Yes. Has she been found yet?’

‘There’s not been any report that she’s missing.’

‘I told you that she needed to be looked into.’

‘There have been no reports backing you up. The PM hasn’t mentioned her.’

‘So you’ve ignored it?’

‘We haven’t given it priority. It’s not a CTC issue.’

‘I think maybe it is. Look at what we know: Ruth Morgan was on her way to the Palace when the bomb went off. Her personal security left her unguarded, saying she was only a few seconds from safety and he had to get to the hotel. Then nothing.’

‘Maybe there was nothing to report. She’s fine.’

‘No, listen: less than twenty-four hours later, the PM makes a unilateral decision to move the talks to a new location. Why? Maybe someone’s encouraging him.’

‘You think Ruth was kidnapped?’

‘Yes. She rode in Hyde Park at the same time every Wednesday. The bomb would be perfect cover for a kidnap.’

‘Listen to yourself! You’re seriously saying that this Black Eagle would bomb a hotel, risk killing dozens of people, to cover one kidnap? There were plenty of opportunities to snatch her if they’re that sophisticated.’

‘I’m not saying that at all. The bomb was just that: a terrorist attack. It’s brought chaos to the streets and tied CTC and the rest of us up controlling the fallout. But it’s not the
what
you need to be looking at: it’s the
when
. It was timed to give them cover for the kidnap.’

‘Then why was Abulafia there? If they were aiming the bomb to coincide with Ruth Morgan’s schedule, why would they put someone back into the field and risk blowing their cover?’

‘I don’t know. But there will be an explanation, I’m certain of it, and it’ll point back to Ruth’s disappearance.’

‘OK, then how do you account for the presence of Ruth’s personal security Byers? How would they know he would not accompany her to the Palace before going to play the hero?’

‘Because he was in on it.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘No, listen. Byers facilitated the kidnap. It makes perfect sense. He was there to make sure she stuck to schedule and was in the right place at the right time. The kidnappers then have the talks moved to Mapleton while all the time CTC are chasing shadows and the rest of the Met are stretched to breaking point covering the riots.’

‘Leila, you need to take a break. Your instincts on the ground are usually good, but there’s no way we can tie all this together like that. It’s absurd!’

‘Then let me talk to Morgan. Five minutes and I’ll know whether his daughter’s safe.’

‘There’s no chance I’m letting you anywhere near the PM. Not today. We will look into Ruth’s situation and act if we find anything.’

‘It’ll take too long. If you won’t let me talk to Morgan, do it yourself. Ask him right out. You’ll know if he’s lying. And if Ruth has been taken and there’s any connection at all with the talks, then shift all your efforts onto getting her back. They’re planning to hit Mapleton House and they’ll kill Ruth once they’ve done it. But if you can get her secured, Morgan might be persuaded to move the meeting back to London. We might still have time to stop this.’

‘That’s too many ‘mights’ and ‘ifs’, Leila. If I can talk to the PM I will. But on one condition.’

‘What?’

‘You back off. For your own sake and the sake of this investigation, back off. I don’t want to see you again until this is over.’

‘Last time was a mistake. I don’t make the same mistake twice.’

‘Last time was a royal fuck up, Leila. That’s why I’m ordering you to stand down. You’re too close to this, too…’

‘Hysterical?’

‘That’s not my word, but there are those who would paint it that way, yes. You go in front of the IPCC twice for the same catastrophic lack of judgement, I can’t bring you back. You’re finished. So, as I say, back off. We can handle this.’

‘Be careful who that ‘we’ is, Michael.’

‘If there’s a security services mole, it’s not within CTC.’

‘Just the same, be careful, because if I am right and you’ve ignored my intel…’

‘Don’t threaten me DS Reid. And from now on, stay away from the investigation.’

He drained the last of his coffee, left a pile of coins on the table and walked briskly out into the crowds. Leila watched him go then unplugged the jammer and headed back over the bridge. She needed to get to Broadwater Farm and find Phillip.

‘Could you patch me through to Gavin Byers, Ruth Morgan’s personal protection, please?’

‘Please hold.’

Michael Lawrence had called the PM’s personal secretary as soon as he got back to Scotland Yard. There was no substance to Reid’s theory, but there was a feeling. Ruth Morgan represented a gap in the investigation. Hopefully it was an irrelevant gap, but it was a gap.

‘DCI Lawrence?’ a voice said.

‘Yes. Mr Byers?’

‘Yep. How can I help you?’

‘We’re just following up a loose end from the bombing. You told one of our detectives you left Ruth near Kensington Palace, is that right?’

‘Yes. No more than a hundred yards from the gates.’

‘But you didn’t actually see her arrive?’

‘No, I went straight to the bomb site. I got a call, I don’t know, three-ish from security at Windsor to say she’d just arrived with the royals by helicopter and that they’d keep an eye on her.’

‘Good, that’s fine. Have you been in contact with her since?’

‘No. Rostered days off yesterday and today.’

‘But you still answer your official phone?’

‘I’m never completely off duty when it comes to Ruth Morgan. I can always use the overtime. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’m fishing with my son, Sir. I would like to get back to it.’

‘Certainly. Thank you for your help.’

Lawrence placed the phone back in its cradle thoughtfully. It could be the truth. He could be fishing with his son, but the fact that he answered his phone when off duty wasn’t fully explained by his dedication to his employer. If there was something wrong with this picture, Byers would want to be the first to get his story into the mix. Delay an investigation, dampen suspicion.

And who was to say father and son were sitting in a sheltered spot by the Thames? By now he could be anywhere.

He dialled the internal number of SO14, the unit responsible for royal protection. He was put through to the officer in charge at Windsor Castle and immediately the already over-loaded investigation took a whole new dimension. Ruth Morgan had not been helicoptered in because she had never arrived at Kensington Palace. SO14 had already been in contact with the PM who had reassured them that his daughter was safely at Downing Street.

He picked up the phone again then immediately put it down. This was probably still just a misunderstanding. There had to be a logical explanation. He wouldn’t take it up the line yet. Commander Thorne would dismiss anything Reid had said without good concrete evidence, and there wasn’t any yet.

For the second time in two hours he logged out of the department and made his way towards Westminster. A few minutes walk, just check it out, look the PM in the eye when he asked… Or was he really trying to bypass protocol? Was there a doubt in his own mind about the security of his own department? Was he being infected with Reid’s fantasies again?

As he walked he dialled the front desk at the Palace of Westminster. The PM was due in at 2pm when he would address the House. He was working at Downing Street on final preparations for the start of tomorrow’s peace talks.

Lawrence arrived at Downing Street three minutes later. The door officer let him in without question and he was taken to the waiting room by Jane Marks, one the PM’s most trusted aides.

‘Sorry to arrive unannounced like this,’ Lawrence said. ‘I just need five minutes.’

‘I’ll see if he’s available.’

Two minutes later Jane came back and took him through to the rear of the building. Richard Morgan met him on the stairs and led him up to the private flat on the top floor.

‘If you want to speak to me up here, I take it you know why I’ve come?’ Lawrence said.

‘You people don’t make unannounced visits, especially in the middle of a crisis. How did you find out?’

‘Well, until you said that, I hadn’t, not for sure. One of my officers had a hunch and something Gavin Byers said didn’t add up. I wanted to hear what you had to say before I made it official.’

Richard dropped into the sofa and half-heartedly motioned for Lawrence to take the armchair opposite.

‘This can’t be official,’ Richard said. ‘They’ll kill her. You know that, don’t you? You’ve seen what they’re capable of.’

‘Who? Who are we dealing with here?’

‘They didn’t say. You probably know as much as I do, and that’s not much.’

‘Ransom?’

Richard shook his head.

‘And no time-scale?’

‘It’s ongoing.’

‘Was there anything that might get us any closer to knowing who they are?’

‘The man I spoke to sounded English, home counties, Eton, but then the Shoe Bomber was born in Bromley, wasn’t he? You get two lunatics killing a soldier in London and we no longer know who the hell the enemy is. It’s everyone. Christ, they kidnapped my daughter in broad daylight! How can this be happening?’

‘Planning. And that’s what sets them apart from Richard Reid and Lee Rigby’s killers. Harakat al Sahm, for want of a better name, are sophisticated. They are meticulous, well-funded, and highly organised. If you’ll excuse my saying so, they’ve even got the Prime Minister dancing to their tune. SO14 tell me you confirmed that Ruth was safely here.’

‘What should I have done? If I’d come to you, they’d have killed her. If I’d told anyone, done anything, they’d have killed her. They made one very simple demand. It was so simple I would have been insane not to comply.’

‘So moving the peace talks to Mapleton House was part of this.’

Richard nodded.

‘It seemed so… I even convinced myself that the move was a good thing. Security’s better at Mapleton, the atmosphere more conducive to a positive outcome. I just can’t see what they’re trying to achieve.’

‘Nor can we, unfortunately. But they’re going to a lot of trouble to achieve something.’

Richard hauled himself out of the chair and walked over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a whisky and took a sip.

‘What have I done?’ he said, still with his back to his guest.

‘You’ve done what any father in your position would do. They backed you into a corner and gave you no time to think.’

‘I honestly thought the move to Mapleton was the least worst option under the circumstances. This can’t be a simple assassination ploy. The security is second-to-none.’

‘And there’d be little to gain by assassinating all the delegates. And taking out only one side would reflect badly on the other. Any action would be political suicide. But Mapleton’s the key: there’s something we’re not seeing.’

‘If I could change it back, I would. But if I move the talks again, the Israelis will be suspicious of the Palestinians, and the Palestinians will be suspicious of the Israelis and they’ll both be suspicious of us. We lose the best chance we’ve had in decades. And the bloody Americans’ll love the whole spectacle! This is a mess. And the worst of it is, you’re the only person who knows and you’re up to your eyes in the shit-storm that erupted over London on Wednesday.’

‘Which is exactly what they were banking on, Prime Minister. But they’ve lost that advantage now. In fact, as you imply yourself, this might even give us a massive advantage.’

‘Meaning?’ Richard turned to face Lawrence.

‘Let’s assume they’re planning something at Mapleton. We don’t know what, and right now it doesn’t matter. You moved the talks, but so far they haven’t released Ruth. Which means they may still need leverage for something. We find Ruth, they’ve lost it. Even now, they’ve lost the element of surprise.’

‘You think you can find her?’

‘In twenty-four hours? It’ll be tough. But finding her is going to be a lot easier than trying to penetrate these people through what else we know of them. This is the first concrete lead we’ve got, and we really can use it.’

‘What do you need me to do?’

‘If Mapleton’s under threat, the only weak point is from the air. Discretely get fighter jets on stand-by. A visible military presence on the ground wouldn’t hurt either. Make it look like a routine back-up. Apart from that, do nothing that will arouse suspicion. Carry on as usual. Stick to your plans and leave us to worry about security. Don’t do anything that will signal to them that we’re closing in.’

Richard shook his head. ‘I just don’t know who the hell I can trust any more. Byers virtually handed her to them. He’d been with us for two years!’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Maybe I was blind. Now all I can think is: is there anyone else? We’ve never seen anything this sophisticated on home soil before. Did they have inside help?’

‘We don’t know yet. This is a very complex investigation.’

‘Complex? Not to me. It’s really very simple. I want Ruth back. But tell me, DCI Lawrence: who can I trust? Who can
you
trust now?’

‘You can trust me, Sir. And I’ve got someone on my side. Someone I should have trusted long ago.’