Agent of the State (42 page)

‘He dropped me years ago.’

Her bag was lying between them, so Melanie retrieved the envelope. She studied both sides, which were blank. ‘You said these were sent to you. But there’s no name and address, no postmark. Nothing.’

‘I put them in a different envelope.’

‘What did you do with the original? So we can do the forensics? And this isn’t a new envelope. You have to level with me, Pamela. I think Harold delivered these in person. Or someone working with him.’

‘That’s rubbish.’

‘Is that why you’re so afraid?’ Melanie gently lowered the woman’s scarf to reveal red blotches and weals around her throat. ‘Did he still want to play games with you?’

Masters tried to outstare Melanie, then broke down and wept again. ‘He came to my flat on Saturday night, after your second visit with that young man. And, no, he doesn’t want to have sex with me any more, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just to hurt me.’

She stopped speaking as Kerr reappeared and slipped into his chair. Melanie readjusted the scarf to demonstrate that had been between the two of them. ‘Go on.’

‘He brought the photographs and warned me against speaking out of turn. He threatened me and I told him to fuck off, I really did. So today they tried to kill me.’

Kerr was looking quizzical. ‘Later,’ mouthed Melanie. ‘You mentioned you still have friends in MI5, Pamela,’ she said. ‘And now that we’ve come this far, I want you to tell me who you called from the classroom immediately after I left you last Wednesday.’

This time there was no hesitation. ‘Jeremy Thompson.’

‘And where does he fit into this?’ asked Kerr, mildly.

Masters looked at him and gave a short laugh. ‘I think you know the answer perfectly well. Do you really think I’m stupid? I know it was Jeremy who put you onto me because he admitted it.’

‘That’s not what I asked you.’

She stayed silent for a moment. ‘Jeremy and I became friendly in the office because we were the only ones to have studied Latin at school. Ridiculous, isn’t it, the things that bring you together? It was a bit of a standing joke between us, really, and to the others. But there you are.’

‘And he was a party animal, too?’

‘Let’s say he knows about what I’ve been telling you,’ Masters said carefully. ‘We both felt disgusted. I left the office but he stayed on. Married with kids, too much to lose. He believes the terrible bombing in Walthamstow is somehow connected to all this.’

‘What makes him think that?’

‘I only know it’s something connected to that man Jibril they just released. There’s a special file under double cover, apparently. It never leaves Philippa’s office. He must have got hold of it. And now the knowledge is destroying him.’

‘Jerry told me about the file,’ said Kerr. ‘So why did he deny everything when I saw him? Why the hell couldn’t he tell me this himself?’

‘He says you’ve been putting him under the most terrible pressure. Threatening him. He wanted it to come from me because he thinks you won’t protect him.’

‘Bollocks. The coward’s cop-out.’

‘No. You mustn’t blame Jeremy for this. He has discovered far more dreadful things than I ever realised. He believed you would uncover this for yourselves once you’d met me. You wouldn’t be able to damage me. No one would. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? Others can and will.’

‘I think Jerry’s been spinning both of us a different line.’

‘I’ve talked to him a lot over the past week, believe me. Persuaded him to do the right thing. Jeremy will deal with this . . . in his own way. He has to protect himself, don’t you see? The poor man truly thinks he’s going mad. How could a few years of partying end in all those innocent people blown to bits? That’s what he thinks. You have to promise not to harass him any more.’

Kerr threw Melanie a glance. ‘Show her,’ he said.

Melanie scrolled through Kerr’s emails until she found the photograph of Robert Attwell sent to Kerr the previous Wednesday evening, only hours after Melanie’s first brief meeting with Masters.

They waited while she studied the date and time. ‘Yes, Jeremy must have sent you this. I spoke to him after you left, as I said. Then I called him again later the same day. He told me the guilt was driving him crazy, but I calmed him down, told him he could put things right. He called me again in the evening, when he’d had time to think things through. Promised me he was going to send your boss something. Look at the heading. “
Veritas vos liberavit
.”’

‘‘‘The truth shall set you free,”’ said Kerr.

But Masters was looking directly at Melanie, as if Kerr wasn’t in the room. ‘He called it his suicide note. He told me that as soon as he revealed this MI5 would find out and destroy him.’

‘It’s not true. We can protect him.’

‘It’s what he believes.’

As soon as Melanie closed the photograph another email pinged into Kerr’s inbox. The sender was simply ‘A Friend’ and the subject ‘
Ultima voluntas’
. Hold on a minute, Pamela.’ She beckoned to Kerr and shifted her chair sideways.

Kerr came round Melanie’s end of the desk and leant between them. ‘Open it.’

All three of them stared speechless at the screen. The attachment was a good-quality colour video with sound showing a teenage girl being raped on a couch. She had her face turned to the camera, and Melanie recognised her instantly. ‘Tania,’ was all she could murmur.

The child’s attacker was naked except for his face, head and shoulders, which were concealed by a black hood; he also wore black cotton gloves. From inside the hood came a muffled crescendo of groaning and snorting.

‘Meet Harold,’ said Pamela, flatly.

‘What?’

‘He always grunts like that when he’s in sex-attack mode,’ she said. ‘It means he’s going to kill her and he won’t let himself come till the victim’s dead. There. I told you he was a beast, didn’t I?’

The video lasted a couple of minutes. When it ended they sat in stunned silence for a few moments. ‘Now will you give this bastard up?’ said Kerr, eventually. When Masters looked away he reached across her to his middle drawer, banging it open against her knees without apology. She had to push back as he shuffled through his papers until he reached an enlarged photograph of Tania. He dropped it on the desk in front of her. ‘You’re a teacher, Pamela,’ he said angrily. ‘Now you see what happens when good people do nothing.’

‘You heard the woman’s voice goading him on from behind the camera?’ said Masters, stony-faced. ‘That’s Claire Grant. She’s the one filming it, I’m telling you. She often used to do that. She loves it. To film and be filmed.’

Kerr took his chair again. ‘And I take it Jerry sent this too?’

‘I called him just before I left, told him I was coming to see Melanie. “
Ultima voluntas”
means “last will”. I really fear for him.’

‘So are you going to carry on playing the Queen of Dumb,’ said Kerr, ‘or help us put a stop to this?’

‘Go and arrest Claire bloody Grant. As soon as I saw that bitch on the lunchtime news I guessed what she was up to. That’s why I’m here. I have spoken out.’

Kerr was looking her straight in the eye. ‘But that’s not the only reason you came forward now, is it?’ he said. ‘It wasn’t only Jerry Thompson who made the connection between in-house shagging and outright slaughter, was it?’

Masters lowered her head. ‘Jeremy called me on Monday night.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Told me Joe Allenby had been murdered for sending you that stuff about Ahmed Jibril. You can see why he’s so terrified for himself.’

‘So that’s what drove you here, is it?’ said Kerr. ‘Guilt for a good man you didn’t even know?’

‘But I did.’ Head lowered, Masters was quietly weeping again, her voice scarcely audible. ‘Joe knew about everything.’

Melanie touched her arm. ‘He was the other person you phoned, wasn’t he, Pamela? That day we first met? The international call? You rang Joe, didn’t you?’

‘I loved him.’ She looked up at Melanie, tears running down her cheeks. ‘Joe Allenby was the father of my baby.’

While Melanie took Masters back to Reception, Kerr watched the video again, examining every detail. ‘Did you spot it?’ he said, the moment she returned and took Masters’s chair beside him.

‘What?’

‘I know who “Harold” is.’ Kerr muted the sound and froze the video. He clicked through a series of frames. ‘Look at the bastard’s left hand against Tania’s leg, as he really gets worked up. Watch the glove. It slips . . . just . . . here. See that dark mark on the back of his hand? Who did I tell you had been having chemo?’

‘Jesus.’

‘She mentioned Africa, right? I remembered he served two tours in Nairobi. Alan Fargo just confirmed he was in Bulgaria before that.’

‘So why didn’t you . . . ?’

‘Because I wanted to hear the bastard’s name from her own lips.’

‘What are you going to do?’

Kerr checked his watch, locked the screen and grabbed his jacket. ‘I’m going to see him, of course. And while I’m gone I want you to get hold of Kestrel. Wherever you catch up with him, I’ll be there.’

Perplexed, Melanie ran after Kerr and caught him by the lift lobby. ‘Look, I think Pamela may be right. Don’t you think we should lay off Kestrel for a while? I mean, what he tried to do on the Tube. He knows what happened to Joe for speaking out. The guy’s on the edge, John. Depressed. I think he needs help.’

‘Find him,’ Kerr shot back, as he stepped into the lift.

‘John, I’m really not comfortable with this.’

‘Today,’ he said, as the doors closed on them.

Fifty-one

Wednesday, 26 September, 17.13, chairman’s office, National Crime Agency

Jacketless and relaxed, cuffs turned back, Theo Canning bounded across the carpet to greet Kerr, pumping his hand and leading him into the room.

‘John, welcome aboard at long last,’ he said, ushering him to an armchair. ‘Make yourself at home.’

Kerr had never known a senior official capable of disarming people as expertly as Canning. ‘So the magic touch finally worked, Theo.’ He smiled.

‘Your commander Paula Whatever totally blanked me, then called out of the blue last night to offer you up immediately. Can’t wait to hear what you did to annoy her.’ He chuckled. ‘Anyway, you were spot on about Mickey Baines. But I want us to keep this as close as possible, obviously. Things turned out very badly for this chap. For your ears only, John.’

Over the next five minutes Canning described the discovery of the murdered Mickey Baines just outside Amsterdam. He had been found with his throat cut and a kilo of heroin stuffed inside his jacket. Early conclusions from Dutch police were that he had been murdered in the course of an illegal drugs transaction. ‘Bastard was on leave driving his own car. Absolutely no official business in Holland, but loaded with Class A in a city he knew like the back of his hand. The Dutch have promised a thorough investigation but don’t hold your breath. Now you see why I need you alongside.’

Kerr kept himself as relaxed as Canning, mirroring the other man’s deception. ‘Hope I can make it worth your while.’

‘You can help me start cutting out the cancer straight away.’ He sat forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, fingers in a steeple, and dropped his voice. Kerr had to drag his eyes from the bruising on the back of Canning’s left hand. ‘Now for the difficult part, which I’m telling you in absolute confidence. I’ve had suspicions about Baines for several months. Already asked others to take a look at him, people from my old firm, and your information confirmed the dirt they managed to dig up. Now here’s the urgency. Baines was due to receive a payment late tonight from a major target in our Operation Pyramid. It’s a bog-standard sting. Because Baines went AWOL we set up the transaction through a third party, another corrupt officer within this organisation. We arrested him this morning. He’s rolled over, admitted everything, but I very much want this handover to go ahead.’

‘Using me as the decoy,’ said Kerr, every nerve on high alert.

‘Got it in one.’ He looked apologetic. ‘I know you don’t start officially till Monday.’

‘It’s not a problem.’

‘Time’s pressing. And I’m having to keep this so tight within the Agency.’

It was Kerr’s turn to lean forward now, his smile even broader than Canning’s. ‘Theo, I don’t need persuading. We’re on the same side.’

‘Spoken like a true gent.’ Canning chuckled again. ‘The cut-out is unknown to the target. You say the code word, they hand over the loot. Risk is negligible, John. Armed cover and arrest teams on the plot, and we’ll pick up any counter-surveillance. Just receive the money, keep the evidential chain intact.’

‘Where’s the meet?’ Kerr’s voice was so light he could have been arranging a social get-together.

‘Wapping. So, will you do it, my friend?’

‘I’ve got masses of loose ends back at the office,’ said Kerr, standing, ‘but sure, of course I will. What time is the handover?’

Canning glanced at the clock. ‘Twenty-three-thirty. Gives us about six hours. Leave me your mobile number so I can brief you later this evening. And again, everything’s strictly
entre nous
, John,’ he said, as Kerr scribbled his number. ‘Dirty linen and all that.’