The Gulf Conspiracy

TEN

‘What do you think?’ asked Jane as they drove back to her house.

‘I think the vets’ associations were probably right. There was something wrong with the vaccine and George knew it. But if that were the case why would the government even consider using it again?’

‘Maybe they didn’t know?’ suggested Jane.

‘Now there’s a thought,’ said Steven. ‘The government didn’t know but your husband and Donald Crowe did?’ After a few moments he dismissed the idea. ‘But they were a research outfit; they wouldn’t have had anything to do with anything the troops were being given.’

‘Maybe they really were trying to design a new vaccine and wanted to try it out on the troops?’ suggested Jane.

‘Giving soldiers an untried and untested vaccine along with other inoculations, you mean? Highly unethical,’ said Steven.

‘Might explain George’s nightmares,’ said Jane as they swung into the drive. ‘Especially if there was something wrong with it?’ she added.

Steven shook his head and said, ‘Even if that were true and they had experimented with a new vaccine there would be no question of them doing the same thing all over again almost twelve years later, so why was George so alarmed at the story in the paper?’

‘There must have been something wrong with one of the other vaccines,’ said Jane.

‘That only George and the research team knew about?’ added Steven.

‘Yes,’ said Jane.

Steven thought then shook his head again. ‘We’re still not there,’ he said. ‘Doubts about the vaccines the troops were given have been expressed many times,’ he continued. ‘They must have been subjected to the most rigorous scrutiny over the years and nothing has ever been found to be wrong with them.’

‘Mmm,’ said Jane.

‘On the other hand…’ Steven paused as he thought about Gus Maclean and his efforts to find the cause of his illness and the thing which, according to him, had caused the death of his wife and daughter. He’d come up with nothing but his conviction remained undimmed. ‘I wonder,’ he said.

‘You’re having second thoughts?’ asked Jane.

‘I was just thinking that there’s no evidence for life anywhere else in the universe but that doesn’t mean to say…’

‘That there isn’t any,’ said Jane.

‘Right. It just means that we haven’t found any.’

‘So you think it’s possible that there was something wrong but they just haven’t yet found out what?’ said Jane.

‘I have to phone Sci-Med,’ said Steven.

‘I’ll make some coffee,’ said Jane, leaving Steven alone.

Steven used his mobile and had to wait a few moments to be put through to the admin officer assigned to his case.

‘I’ve got some news for you,’ said a woman with a pleasant Irish accent who introduced herself as Maureen Kelly when she came on the line. ‘Someone re-formatted the hard disk on the laptop you left with us. We couldn’t retrieve any files, I’m afraid.’

‘I feared as much,’ said Steven. ‘Any news from the Scottish Police about the post mortem on Martin Hendry?’

‘Strangely, they still seem to be treating his death as suicide. What do you want to do about that?’

‘Nothing at the moment,’ replied Steven.

‘You’re sure it was murder?’

‘There were slight marks on his wrists consistent with having been tied up,’ replied Steven.

‘Maybe the pathologist put them down to something else?’

‘Or maybe someone leaned on the pathologist,’ said Steven.

‘As a matter of interest, did you find any software for the laptop in Hendry’s cabin?’ asked Kelly.

‘No, why?’ asked Steven.

‘When the killer reformatted the disk, he or she would have wiped everything off it — including the standard software — and yet it had Windows XP and Microsoft Office on it, and appeared to be a normal laptop that just hadn’t been used for anything recently.’

Steven saw what the girl was getting at. ‘You mean the killer must have re-installed the software to hide the fact the disk had been wiped — and therefore the motive for murder?’ he said.

‘And then removed the software disks along with the ZIP disk you said was missing. If it’s of any use we can tell the exact date and time they carried out the re-install procedure. Maybe the police would be interested in that.’ The comment sounded like a mild rebuke.

‘I’d rather you didn’t tell them for the moment,’ said Steven. ‘It suits me to have the opposition think that I know less than I do.’

‘It’s your call.’

‘Did you get the stuff on Martin Hendry I asked for?’

Kelly read out an address in Manchester and Steven wrote it down.

‘He lives — lived — with his partner, a girl named Lesley Holland. The Manchester Police have been informed of our interest. They’ve arranged for a search warrant to be made available to you if you request it. Anything else?’

‘I need to talk to someone at Porton Down about the vaccines used on Gulf War troops.’

‘Last time or this time?’

‘Last time, and not some PR person; I need to speak to someone who knows what they’re talking about.’

Steven found Jane sitting at the kitchen table. He sat down opposite and she poured out his coffee without making eye contact. He thought she seemed quiet and said so.

‘I was just thinking,’ she began hesitantly. ‘If George was murdered because he was going to tell all about this vaccine business, surely it must mean that…’ She paused as if having difficulty saying it. ‘That the government were responsible for his death?’ Her eyes were now as wide as saucers.

‘Scary thought,’ said Steven.

‘You’re supposed to say, “No, Jane, that’s ridiculous.’

‘No, Jane, that’s ridiculous,’ said Steven in a flat monotone.

Jane looked at him and said in a small quiet voice, ‘But it isn’t, is it?’

‘There’s a level of government that operates without the knowledge of government,’ said Steven.

‘What on earth does that mean?’ demanded Jane.

‘I only discovered this myself when I came up against it a couple of years ago.’

‘They tried to kill you?’

‘”They” did but who “they” actually were is still a matter of some conjecture,’ said Steven.

‘I don’t think I understand,’ said Jane.

‘Let’s see,’ said Steven. ‘It goes something like this. Man A at the top tells man B — a subordinate — that he has a problem. Man B tells man C and man C says he’ll see what he can do. Man C mentions it to man D who in turn employs man E, whom none of the others have ever heard of or he of them, to solve the problem on the understanding that if anything goes wrong he’s on his own. Man E does the job and is paid from slush funds. The problem goes away and man A at the top is very happy but, of course, has no idea how it all came about.’

Jane looked aghast. ‘But that is immoral in the extreme!’ she exclaimed.

‘Moral is not an adjective that often finds itself beside government,’ said Steven.

‘So you think that some man E killed George?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Steven. ‘But it could have been a disaffected Gulf War veteran out for revenge. There are plenty of them out there.’ He did not mention that the murder of Martin Hendry had more or less ruled out that possibility.

Jane shivered slightly and said, ‘I know this sounds silly and I feel ashamed to say it but I’m frightened. I feel really scared. I just want it all to stop. I just want to get on with my life. I need all this to go away.’

Steven took both her hands in his and squeezed gently. ‘Does that mean you want me out of your life too?’ he asked.

Jane looked as if she were fighting an inner conflict. She took a moment to steady herself before saying, ‘You are part of this… nightmare,’ she said. ‘But no, if I have a choice, I don’t think I do want to lose you.’

Steven kissed her hands. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Because there’s no way I’m going to go voluntarily.

A tear ran down Jane’s cheek and she wiped it away angrily as if seeing it as a sign of weakness. ‘Promise me you won’t lie to me,’ she said. ‘Promise me you’ll tell me everything you’re doing and exactly what’s going on at all times?’

Steven looked doubtful.

‘Promise me?’

‘If you’re really sure that’s what you want,’ he said.

Jane nodded and said, ‘Starting right now.’

‘Very well,’ said Steven. ‘Martin Hendry did not commit suicide. The police don’t seem to know it yet but he was murdered. All traces of the story he was working on were wiped from his computer and I think the story is the reason he was killed.’

Jane looked for a moment as if this might be a step too far but she recovered her composure and said, ‘Man E again?’

‘Looks like it,’ said Steven.

‘How will you find him?’

‘I’m more interested in stopping him,’ said Steven. ‘I can only do that if I can find out what it is they’ve been covering up. Once that happens, the game’s up. In the meantime the police can deal with the monkey; it’s the organ grinder I’m after. I’m going up to Manchester to see if Hendry left anything lying around in his flat about what he was working on.’

‘Please be careful,’ said Jane.

‘I’ll call you.’

Steven was in Manchester by three. He had called the Manchester police before leaving Jane’s to say that he was coming and that he would like the search warrant for Hendry’s flat. He drove straight to police headquarters where he spoke with an officer who introduced himself as DI Lawrence.

‘I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what it is you’re looking for?’ said Lawrence.

‘Anything that might be connected with my enquiry,’ said Steven.

‘Fair enough,’ smiled Lawrence.

‘I understand Hendry had a partner?’ said Steven.

‘I was the one who had to break the bad news to her,’ said Lawrence looking rueful. ‘Nice kid.’

‘Is she still living there?’

‘As far as I know,’ said Lawrence. ‘We’ve had no occasion to go back.

Steven accepted the warrant and said thanks.

‘Need some uniforms?’ asked Lawrence.

‘I don’t think so.’

There was no answer to his knock on the door of Hendry’s apartment on the third floor of a modern block of flats about three miles from the city centre. After his third knock a neighbour, a woman in her seventies, opened her door and volunteered, ‘I don’t think anyone’s living there any more. Mr Hendry died recently.’

Steven turned to the elderly woman and said, ‘Yes, I heard. It was very sad. It was actually Lesley I was looking for.’

‘I think Lesley’s gone too. She certainly wasn’t here when the men from the gas board came the other day.’

‘The gas board?’

‘Apparently there was a gas leak and they had to gain access to the flat,’ said the woman.

‘Just this flat?’ asked Steven, pointing to Hendry’s front door.

‘Yes,’ replied the woman. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘No, no,’ replied Steven, not wishing to alarm her. ‘Tell me, how did they get in if Lesley wasn’t at home?’

‘Oh, they had a key,’ replied the woman. ‘They said the Gas Board had them for emergency use. I must say, they were very nice gentlemen, very polite, so different from so many people today.’

‘Good to hear,’ said Steven. ‘Did they find the leak?’

‘Oh yes,’ replied the woman. ‘They came and told me afterwards and said there was nothing for me to worry about. They had found the problem and fixed it.’

‘Good show,’ said Steven. ‘I don’t suppose you know where I could find Lesley, do you?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said the woman, shaking her head. ‘Although I do know that she’s a teacher. She teaches at Green Street Primary, if that’s any help. My granddaughter goes there: she says Lesley’s a very kind teacher. It’s so important for children to like their teachers, don’t you think?’

Steven agreed that it was and thanked the woman for her help. He waited until she had closed her door before calling DI Lawrence. ‘I should have taken up your offer of uniforms,’ he said. ‘I need a forced entry here.’

Steven was surprised when Lawrence himself turned up with two uniformed officers.

‘Call me an interested observer,’ he said. ‘What exactly is the problem for the sake of the record?’

‘Steven told Lawrence about the supposed visit from the Gas Board. ‘If they were from British Gas I’m from the planet Zog. They had a key, and a neighbour I spoke to hasn’t seen Hendry’s partner for some time.’

Lawrence nodded to the two constables and they made short work of gaining entry. The noise of splintering wood brought the neighbour to her door again and Steven had to try to assure her that there was nothing for her to worry about.

‘I thought the police would have had a key as well,’ she said.

‘We think that the men from the gas board weren’t all that they seemed,’ said Steven. ‘The police think they should check out the flat just to make sure everything’s all right.’

‘I must say they’ve got a funny way of going about it,’ replied the woman, eyeing the splintered door jamb with alarm.

‘Don’t you worry, madam,’ said Lawrence. ‘We’ll make everything as good as new when we’re finished here.

‘Please see that you do,’ replied the woman, retreating indoors. ‘I think I preferred the Gas Board men.’

Steven found pretty much what he expected to find when he walked through the flat. The ‘Gas Board’ men had gone through it with a fine-tooth comb. The contents of every drawer and cupboard had been tipped out on to the floor and even the floorboards had been taken up in several places.’

‘Workmen these days…’ said Lawrence, tongue in cheek. ‘Looks like someone beat you to it?’

‘Afraid so,’ said Steven. ‘What worries me now is how they got the key. If no one has seen Hendry’s partner for a while — ’

‘Oh dear,’ sighed Lawrence. ‘Do you think…?’

‘I think we’d better check it out,’ said Steven. ‘The neighbour says she’s a teacher at Green Street Primary.’

Lawrence looked at his watch. ‘The schools are on holiday. I’ll try and get an address for her from the education authorities.’

Steven continued to look through the flat while Lawrence made his call. He always hated the feeling he got when circumstances forced him to intrude in other people’s lives. He went through the motions of sifting through everything, but knowing full well that he wasn’t going to find anything useful.

When Lawrence joined him he said, ‘The authorities just have this address down in their records but I managed to contact the head teacher at Green Street and she told me that Lesley has been back staying with her parents since Martin Hendry died. Want to give it a try?’

Steven said that he did and Lawrence told the two uniformed men they were on their way to 21, Paxton Avenue. ‘He told them to stay put until the flat had been made secure.

Steven and Lawrence presented their IDs to the man working in the front garden of the neat bungalow in Paxton Avenue. He looked like everyone’s idea of a bank manager — short, plump, bald and bespectacled — so they were taken aback by his immediately aggressive response.

‘Hasn’t my daughter been through enough from you insensitive bastards?’ the man demanded. ‘She doesn’t know anything about what Martin was doing or why he took his own life. Isn’t that enough for her to cope with, for Christ’s sake?’

‘I’m sorry your daughter has been upset, Mr Holland,’ said Steven. ‘But we really do have to speak to her. It won’t take long and we’ll be gentle, I promise.’

Holland muttered something about dogs chasing their own tails as he tugged off his Wellington boots before going indoors in his diamond-patterned socks to go upstairs.

‘Who is it, Sam?’ inquired a woman’s voice.

‘The bloody police again for our Lesley,’ replied Holland. ‘No wonder they never catch any burglars.’

When Holland returned he was accompanied by a small fair-skinned girl with a bank of freckles across the bridge of her nose and upper cheeks and whose blond hair was tied back with a pink ribbon. She looked as if she hadn’t slept for some time. There was an expression in her eyes that was easy to read — fear.

‘Miss Holland? I’m Dr Steven Dunbar,’ said Steven gently. ‘This is DI Lawrence. Is there somewhere we can talk?’

A look of blank resignation crossed Lesley Holland’s face as she indicated that the men should follow her inside.

‘I don’t know what Martin was writing about. I’ve told you people over and over again. I don’t know,’ said Lesley Holland as she sat perched on the edge of an armchair, hands clasped between her knees. ‘You can threaten me all you want to but I can’t tell you what I don’t know.’

‘Who threatened you, Miss Holland?’ asked Steven.

‘The two men from Special Branch, they said they knew perfectly well what Martin had been up to and that he must have told me all about it. They said I would be charged and go to prison for up to fourteen years if I didn’t tell them everything. But I couldn’t tell them. I didn’t know anything. Martin was just doing what Martin did, working on a story. He didn’t tell me anything about it but they wouldn’t believe me. They just went on and on…’

‘Did you give them the keys to your flat?’ asked Steven.

Lesley nodded. ‘They forced me to. I’ve been back staying with Mum and Dad since Martin died. They said they were going to search the flat and when they found what they were looking for they would be back to charge me formally. I wasn’t to go anywhere.’

‘But they never came back?’

Lesley shook her head. ‘No. I thought maybe that’s why you were here.’ She looked at Steven pleadingly and said, ‘I don’t know anything. I didn’t do anything.’

‘I know Miss Holland and I’m very sorry you’ve been put through all this. There is no question of you being charged with anything and I apologise for the behaviour of my colleagues. They’ve left your flat in a bit of a mess I’m afraid but they won’t be back. I’m deeply sorry about the loss of your partner. We’ll leave you in peace now.’

As Steven and Lawrence walked back to the car Lawrence said, ‘So does that make the Gas Board men Special Branch, d’you reckon?’

‘You won’t believe me but I’m not at all sure,’ said Steven. ‘I take it you’ve had no official word of Special Branch being on your patch?’

‘Not a whisper. You’re still not going to tell me what all this is about?’ asked Lawrence.

‘Afraid not.’

Steven left Manchester feeling as if his visit had been a waste of time. Martin Hendry’s killers had obviously had the same idea about a possible copy of the story being at his flat and had beaten him to it. But at least they hadn’t murdered Lesley Holland, presumably because she clearly knew nothing about what Hendry had been working on but she’d been badly scared. It had been his intention to drive on up to Glasgow if nothing came of his trip to Manchester but thoughts of Jane had altered that. He called her and asked if he could come back to her place for the night.

‘Why?’ asked Jane.

‘Because I want to.’

‘Sounds like an excellent reason,’ said Jane. ‘I actually meant why are you coming back to Leicester when you said you’d be going on up to Glasgow?’

‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ said Steven.