Dark Suits and Sad Songs (31 page)

‘Everything changes, Mike, even countries.’

‘Change for the better is great, but it depends on your perspective.’

‘The breach in the undersea NATO intranet cable, it happened here, right?’

‘Yes, somewhere off shore. We can’t be sure, but we’ve got it pinned down to an area off the Kintyre coastline. That’s why I’m here.’

‘How much information did you lose?’

‘That’s where things get even more worrying. There’s a lot of bad people would give their rotten hides to tap into that information.’

‘And they haven’t?’

‘In the eighteen months or so since the breach took place, we have received no threats, no attempts at extortion, no breaches of security, no publicity. Not one damned thing.’

Daley thought for a moment. ‘Maybe whoever managed to steal this information doesn’t know how to use it, or even what it means? Maybe they didn’t find anything of interest?’

‘We have a rough idea what they got. It’s sensitive stuff; makes Wikileaks look like the
National Enquirer
. That’s what makes it all the more worrying. To possess the knowledge to not only breach the cable, but to do so in a way that it was almost undetectable, can have been done by only a handful of nation states, or their confederates.’

‘You mean Russia, China?’

‘Sure, those guys are in the frame.’ Callaghan paused. It looked to Daley as though he was considering whether or not to reveal more. ‘We all know that no organisation is clean, right, Jim?’

‘Oh yes,’ replied Daley instantly.

‘So, suppose one of the countries you’ve mentioned, with all of the resources and expertise, go hunting and strike gold. Imagine that within their organisation is someone with so much ambition and drive they think they can benefit much more from what they’ve found than whoever is paying for them to be there; some power-mad, twisted bastard, willing to risk worldwide conflict to further their own aims. Get the picture?’

‘Sure,’ said Daley with a grimace, able to visualise just such ambition. ‘But to gain what?’

‘Money, power, influence, control – any of these things. At the end of the day, they’re all subtle parts of a greater whole. Imagine what could be achieved by people so ruthless they could create a zombie state within the NATO alliance; control it from within. Politicians, security services, the military – everyone compromised.’

Daley looked out to sea. ‘It would have to be a new state. Small, finding its feet, but with excellent credentials as to human rights, security and other issues.’

‘You got it. We think your fireball knew something about this.’

‘Cudihey?’

‘Yeah, Walter Cudihey. We also know that a new crime organisation with tentacles in Eastern Europe, Asia, Central America and Italy has increased its activities exponentially in the last few months. All of the old cartels and gangs are being eradicated one by one, in Europe and beyond. Drugs are flooding the continent like never before.’

‘And their merchandise has to come into its main market somewhere.’ Daley was beginning to understand.

‘And where better than here, the glorious west coast of Scotland. Such a vast coastline, full of little bays, empty coves, quiet channels – its a smuggler’s paradise.’

‘But first you have to get rid of the opposition.’

‘Sure. Some overweight, over-worked, talented guy with a complicated personal life has to come in and clean up the town. We know that elements of your new police force – the old one, too – have been compromised.’ He looked out to sea again. ‘Jim, you know how politics works; you need money to succeed. But if it’s not your money, you don’t call the shots. The guys with the deep pockets do.’

‘So it’s all about money?’

‘Yeah, sure, money, but not just hard cash. It’s about being involved in the global marketplace, in cutting-edge industries, not just based in one country, but all over the world. You need that perfect storm of power and influence right across the board, and you gotta start somewhere, get a foot in the door.’

‘Our government?’

‘You tell me, Jim.’

‘So what can you give me?

‘NKV Dynamics. We’ve found their weak spot.’

‘And we share information?’

‘To a certain extent. Someone at the heart of everything is putting us all at risk. We have to find out who that is.’ He patted the policeman on the shoulder. ‘Let’s get you back on the beat, DCI Daley. I think we can dispense with the blindfold this time.’

39

The intern knocked on Wilson’s door, then waited until the barked invitation to enter sounded from behind it.

‘You’ve got what I want?’ asked Wilson, not taking his eyes from the document he was reading.

‘Yes, Mr Wilson. The Minister is in a crisis meeting. I took my opportunity.’

‘You’ve done well,’ said Wilson, emerging from behind his desk. He walked over to the intern and snatched the file from his trembling hand. ‘And remember, son, you’ve just breached the Official Secrets Act. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll go down for longer than the Kray twins.’

The young man thought for a moment. ‘Who are the Kray twins? Do they sit on the Labour benches?’

Wilson looked up, then grabbed the intern by his shirt collar and leaned in close. ‘It means, you ugly little bastard, that if you ever mention this to anyone, you might as well go and do a Walter Cudihey, do you understand?’

‘Yes, Gary – Mr Wilson. Sorry.’

‘Good, now fuck off.’

The youth was about to leave when Wilson spoke again.

‘Wait! This crisis meeting, what is it about?’

‘Oh, to do with renewable energy. MBT are pulling out of all existing undersea wave power operations, and any similar projects in development.’

‘And who the fuck are MBT when they’re at home?’

‘Miekle, Brown and Taylor. They’ve been working on our renewable energy strategy with another company from Holland.’

‘NKV Dynamics.’

‘Yes, them. Looks like they’re the only players now, Gary.’

‘Mr Wilson to you. Now, why haven’t you fucked off?’

Wilson watched the intern leave, then opened the file he had just been given. Arkady Visonovich stared at him from the first page. ‘Oh, very clever,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Very clever indeed.’

Daley found himself opposite one of the oddest-looking men he’d ever seen. Pavel Abdic was so wide he almost took up the entire length of the table. A local solicitor sat beside Abdic, looking nervous, while his client stared at DS Scott with a toothy grin.

‘One last time, Mr Abdic, if you understand me, please tell me where Alice Taylor is,’ said Daley for the fifth time, his impatience palpable. He knew from the notes sent to him by Interpol that Abdic spoke English, or had at one time. Now, however, he was either unwilling or unable.

‘We’re no’ getting anywhere here, gaffer,’ said Scott, who had a fresh white bandage around his head. ‘You’re no’ for talking, are you?’ he enquired of Abdic, leaning across the table and looking straight at him. Abdic grinned, then opened his mouth and pointed to the brown stump of what had once been his tongue.

The lawyer looked on in horror. ‘This poor man’s got no tongue!’

Scott sat back in his chair and looked at Daley. ‘We’re no’ goin’ tae get a whole lot oot o’ this fella, Jim.’

‘Interview terminated at 16:50 hours,’ said Daley. They watched as Abdic was taken to a cell in handcuffs by three uniformed constables.

‘He’s the strangest cwient I’ve ever had,’ said the lawyer, packing away his documents into a battered briefcase. ‘I hope your colleagues up the woad have more success with him.’ He nodded goodbye and left the room.

‘We’re no further forward finding Alice,’ said Daley. ‘You can bet this Dragon has her. I hope this exchange works out in Edinburgh later.’

‘We’ll find oot soon. It’s the six o’clock train intae Haymarket, isn’t it?’

‘Supposedly. Apparently that was the only instruction left for Stephen Taylor in the note he burned. Though Edinburgh CID suspect that there was more to it than that. They have cops all along the route of the train, but observing only. Who knows what the bastard will do with the poor girl, but at least we have some kind of leverage now.’ Daley looked at the chair on which Abdic had been sitting.

‘I’ll hang aboot and see what happens. I’ll need tae be off by seven though, I’ve got a date.’

‘With who?’

‘Wae Annie. Well, it’s no’ a date as such, just a trip tae the Chinese. She says it’ll gie me something else tae dae.’

‘Apart from boozing, you mean?’ said Daley, wishing he hadn’t almost before the words had left his mouth. He was preoccupied by the thought that the arrest of Abdic,
welcome as it was, would do nothing to advance the Alice’s release.

‘Listen, big man, I’m doing my best. Fuck me, I’ve only been back for five minutes, an’ already the Michelin Man there’s tried tae kill me. Gie me a break, Jim!’

‘Sorry, Brian. You did well today. Your usual reckless self, but a good job, nonetheless.’

‘Aye, just you pile on the praise, big fella. Wae adulation like that, my heid’ll be the size o’ a pin in no time. Aye, an’ come tae that, where were you? You’ve been right mysterious aboot it.’

‘Never mind that, Brian. You don’t want to know, trust me. I’ll tell you when I can.’ He paused. ‘We shouldn’t lose sight of this morning’s antics, either. We’ve got Wiley in on possession, but you know as well as me, with only your word against his, we can’t pin anything on him. And you can imagine the stink he’ll make when he’s released.’

‘We’ll just get oor friendly solicitor there tae represent him. That’ll do the trick. He’ll likely go doon for at least a hundred years.’

Elise Fordham’s ears were still ringing with the admonishment she’d received from the First Minister. That Scotland’s pioneering wind and wave renewables company had mysteriously pulled out of any contracts in their own country was a political setback, but it was nothing she hadn’t expected. In fact, in some ways, now that it was done, it was a relief. She was still holding on by her fingertips, and she knew it. But she had what she wanted; she just had to get through the last tricky operation and it was done, her mission complete.

She took a small mirror from her bag and attended to her
make-up, then pressed a button on the large phone in front of her.

‘Erin, tell security I won’t be needing them tonight. Affairs of the heart, if you know what I mean,’ she added, with
faux
levity. The girl on the other end laughed knowingly and went about her business.

Fordham picked up the mirror and stared at herself again. The small wrinkles around her eyes, the lines across her forehead, deep-set when she frowned; were they the only price she would pay for betraying her country?

At exactly six p.m., the train from Glasgow arrived at Waverley Station. As commuters and tourists jostled to get on and off the train, Stephen Taylor stood on the platform, looking up and down the length of it, while in his heart he said a silent prayer.

The crowds cleared and nothing happened. Just as the doors closed and the whistle blew, a phalanx of policemen stepped out of their hiding places and descended on the carriages, much to the annoyance of those onboard.

‘Every carriage, right now!’ shouted McClusky.

Taylor sank to his knees and sobbed. He’d tried everything to save her, had probably lost the company he was in charge of. They had told him that if MBT pulled out of all Scottish wave power operations, Alice would be released, but he knew in his heart his lovely daughter was gone.

A fat woman in a stripy apron with a hot-dog logo emblazoned across it strode forward and shouted, ‘Is any o’ yous called McClusky?’

‘I’m McClusky, what do you want?’

‘There’s nae need for the attitude,’ the woman replied. ‘There’s a call for you in ma kiosk.’

McClusky followed her down the platform and into a stall which reeked of fried onions and sausages, overlaid by the aroma of bad coffee. A dirty white phone lay off the hook beside the till.

‘Superintendent McClusky, who’s there?’

There was silence for a moment, then a heavily accented voice spoke slowly. ‘The situation has changed. Release Abdic and the girl will go free. You have forty-eight hours to do this, already her time runs out. You will hear more.’ The phone went dead.

40

The Dragon looked out from the wheelhouse of the fishing boat. He had just spoken to the man who paid him and he was not happy. He had been ordered to release the girl, but what about Abdic? Their paths had crossed by chance; would anyone have cared apart from him?

The girl was locked in a cabin below. She had sobbed and pleaded with him, but any remorse, any finer feelings that might once have lurked in his breast, had long disappeared. In a life filled with death and destruction, there was only one constant: Abdic.

He saw again the battered figure, barely alive, trussed and bleeding on the Chechen street. He’d cut those bonds, tried to revive the man who had once saved his life. He saw the marks left by cigarettes, the burns left by electrodes taped to his genitals, the dry blood slathered down his left ear where his head had been forced against a loudspeaker and the volume turned to maximum. He pictured Abdic’s tormentors laughing as the man struggled with the unbearable pain as the music burst his eardrum and penetrated his skull.

He could not abandon him now.

He had told the girl she would soon be free, only to dash those hopes when Abdic had been stupid enough to get
caught. She was his only real leverage, the one chance he had of saving his friend’s life.

He lifted the glass to his mouth and examined its contents, clear like water. In the morning he would have a sore head, a cloying fear in the pit of his stomach, but with alcohol, the pain lessened for a while, allowing him to breathe. Is this what their lives had become? Death and vodka.

At first, the faces of those he had stared at through the sights of his weapon haunted his dreams. Soon, though, as Abdic had said they would, he ceased to think of them at all.

He remembered Visonovich’s words: ‘Killing is no more important than taking a shit.’