The Gulf Conspiracy

FOURTEEN

‘I told Jane Sebring,’ said Steven.

‘I see,’ said Macmillan. The question, why, was hanging in the air but wasn’t asked. Instead Macmillan said quietly, ‘Am I right in thinking that this woman means something to you?’

Steven nodded. ‘A great deal.’

‘Show me a man who’s never made a fool of himself over a woman and I’ll show you a man without a heart,’ said Macmillan.

Steven acknowledged the kindness and smiled but it faded almost immediately and he said, ‘But Michael D’Arcy’s dead.’

Steven faced another question he had been trying to avoid. Why had an attempt been made on D’Arcy’s life on the very day he had intended to confront him? The man had been in possession of whatever secret information he’d held for nearly twelve years so why had he suddenly been seen as a danger on that very day? Coincidence? Or had someone been tipped off about his impending visit? Only one person had known about it and that was Jane.

Steven closed his eyes to hide whatever was showing there from Macmillan’s gaze as he felt the acid drip of suspicion burn inside his head.

‘Of course we could be jumping to conclusions here,’ said Macmillan. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’

Steven told him that Jane was the only person who knew of his plans yesterday.

‘Maybe someone overheard you telling her?’

‘I told her over the phone.’

Macmillan’s eyes hardened. ‘Mobile?’

‘My mobile… but her house phone,’ said Steven, suddenly seeing what Macmillan was thinking. ‘Same as when I told her about D’Arcy’s transfer!’

‘They’ve probably had a tap on George Sebring’s house phone for years,’ said Macmillan.

Steven felt a flood of relief surge through him but almost immediately he started to feel guilty over what he’d imagined. ‘Oh my God,’ he sighed.

‘Now, we don’t know for sure that’s what’s been happening,’ cautioned Macmillan. ‘But I think my money’s on it.

Steven nodded.

‘But if that’s the case,’ said Macmillan, ‘they must know everything that’s passed between you two over the phone. Where does that leave us?’

‘I’ll have to think back.’

‘Did you pass on what D’Arcy told you about the agent before he died?’

Steven admitted he had.

‘In which case,’ said Macmillan slowly measuring his words, ‘They may conclude that Mrs Sebring knows too much…’

‘But we know about it too,’ said Steven. ‘There would be no point in harming Jane.’

‘Unless they saw her as a loose cannon who might go to the newspapers and stir up a hornet’s nest about the contaminated vaccine and her husband’s death?’

‘God, I have to get up there.’

‘Does she have a mobile phone?’

Steven shook his head. ‘We joked about it. She won’t have one. She got so fed up with her pupils’ phones ringing in class that she took a real dislike to them. She refuses to have one herself. I’ve got to warn her.’

‘You can’t risk the house phone,’ said Macmillan.

‘I know, I know,’ murmured Steven, drumming his fingers lightly and rapidly on the desktop as he sought inspiration. ‘Look, maybe you could ask the Leicester Police to go round there on some pretext,’ he said. ‘Get them to take her down to headquarters and hold on to her until I get there?

‘I’ll get on to them right away,’ said Macmillan.

‘And maybe Rose could set up safe-house accommodation? I’ll call later to get the details?’ said Steven, anxious to be on his way.

Macmillan picked up the phone but indicated that Steven should not leave just yet. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk with his free hand and withdrew an automatic pistol and a shoulder holster. ‘You know how I feel about these things,’ he said. ‘But after what happened last night to D’Arcy I got Rose to order up this for you. It’s your preferred weapon. Sign for it before you leave.’

Steven took off his jacket, slipped on the Burns Martin holster and checked the magazine of the gun before putting it away and re-donning his jacket. He pocketed three boxes of shells and all without comment. He had no greater liking for guns on the streets than Macmillan but on occasions it made sense and this was one of them.

Steven went out to Rose Roberts’ office and signed for the weapon.

‘If you lose it you pay for it,’ smiled Rose but there was little humour in her eyes when she said it, nor was there much in Steven’s answering grin. When he returned to Macmillan’s office he asked, ‘All right?’

‘They’re on their way,’ said Macmillan. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I hear she’s safe. Perhaps on the drive up to Leicester you can give some thought to how we go about getting more information about this damned agent now that D’Arcy’s dead. We have to know more than we do before we can start to make waves.’

‘I already have,’ said Steven. ‘But I need to talk to a molecular biologist.’ He told Macmillan about Maclean’s bacterial culture collection. ‘I’m convinced the agent is lurking in that lot somewhere but it’s been so well disguised that it’s going to be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping there may be some quick way of checking for DNA changes in bacterial strains other than sequencing the entire genome of every bug.’

‘I’ll see what I can set up,’ said Macmillan.

Steven had been driving for some forty minutes when his mobile rang. He slowed so that he could hear it above the engine noise. It was Macmillan to say that Jane was now safe at police headquarters and was none too pleased because no one could or would tell her what was going on.

‘Sounds like her,’ said Steven. ‘How about accommodation?’

‘That’s been arranged too,’ said Macmillan. ‘Rose will text you the details.’

‘Steven, just what the hell is going on?’ demanded Jane when she saw Steven enter the interview room where she was seated at a table, an untouched cup of tea in front of her. ‘Why am I being held here? No one will tell me anything.’

Steven raised both his palms in a placatory gesture. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’re not being held. I asked them to bring you here for your own safety.’

‘My safety,’ said Jane, her anger giving way to something more circumspect. ‘What does that mean?’

Steven sat down and took both her hands in his. ‘Michael D’Arcy was murdered earlier today in St Thomas’s Hospital,’ he said.

Jane’s eyes searched Steven’s, trying to make some connection between the news and her own predicament. ‘How awful,’ she said.

‘I take it you didn’t tell anyone he was there?’

‘Of course not,’ said Jane. ‘Who would I tell?’

‘You were the only person outside of Sci-Med who knew where he was,’ said Steven.

Jane looked at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘I don’t think I understand,’ she said. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘That your home phone has been tapped,’ said Steven, having seen all he wanted in Jane’s reactions. ‘Someone has been listening in to all our conversations.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Jane, letting her head fall down on to her chest.

‘You made me promise to tell you everything,’ said Steven.

Jane nodded but more in trepidation than conviction.

‘I told you over the phone about going to see D’Arcy unannounced. They beat me to it. I told you over the phone where we were going to squirrel him away and they got to him and finished the job. I told you over the phone about the agent George had been working on,’ said Steven.

‘And?’ asked Jane.

‘There’s a chance that they may see you as a potential problem…’

Jane looked as if she were about to go on to overload. ‘Are you saying that someone may try to kill me?’ she asked in a very small voice.

‘It’s a possibility,’ said Steven. ‘Maybe a remote one but we didn’t want to take any chances.’

‘But I only know what you and your organisation know,’ Jane protested weakly.

‘I thought that too,’ said Steven. ‘But John Macmillan pointed out that they might be afraid of you going to the papers with what you know. He has a point.’

‘Who’d believe me?’ said Jane.

‘You’re the wife of a former Porton Down scientist who was recently found murdered,’ said Steven. ‘They might very well run it just to see what happens.’

‘So what happens now?’ asked Jane, now visibly angry.

‘I think you should move out of your home for the time being,’ said Steven. ‘Just until we get to the bottom of this.’

‘Move out,’ repeated Jane as if it were a death sentence. ‘Leave my home, my friends, my job… and go hide somewhere?’

‘Steven came round to Jane’s side of the table and put his arms on her shoulders. ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry I got you into this. I’d do anything to turn back the clock and give you your life back but there’s nothing anyone can do now. Hang in there and we’ll come through this together.’

‘A brighter tomorrow,’ said Jane, her voice tinged with sarcasm. ‘If I live that long.’

‘I won’t let anything happen to you; I promise,’ said Steven. He brought Jane to her feet and held her tight. Jane felt the weapon under his left arm as she reciprocated. ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured. ‘If I were a braver person I’d make some kind of Mae West joke but I’m not. Right now I’m a very scared person.’

Steven kissed the top of her head. ‘Let’s get started,’ he said.

‘I take it you’re going to let me pick up some things from my house?’ asked Jane as they got into Steven’s car.

‘Of course,’ said Steven. This had not been his intention but he saw that denying her might be a step too far after what Jane had been through. In the current situation some clothes and a few personal possessions might well assume an importance beyond their actual substance.

Steven turned the car round and parked it in the street as they wouldn’t be staying long. He waited downstairs while Jane got some things together, looking out of the window while he waited.

From upstairs he heard Jane call out, ‘This is crazy. What will all my friends think if I just disappear? What about the school? My classes? Look, I really don’t think I can do this.’

‘Everything will be fine,’ Steven replied. ‘I’ll get you a mobile phone and you can call your friends. Just don’t tell them where you really are. Invent a sick relative in Yorkshire.’

‘It sounds like you’re used to this,’ Jane called out.

‘Not really,’ said Steven distantly. His attention had been caught by a car going past the end of the drive. Unless it was identical to one that had passed a few minutes earlier it was on its second circuit of the area. The thing that chilled him was the fact that it was a blue Range Rover.

‘Jane,’ he called out.

‘What?’

‘Come down, will you?’

‘I’m not quite fini — ’

‘Just come down.’

Jane heard something in Steven’s voice that made her comply without any more comment. ‘What is it?’ she asked as she came into the room behind him.

‘I think we may be about to have company,’ replied Steven without turning away from the window.

‘You mean we’re too late?’

‘A blue Range Rover has passed the house twice in the past five minutes. I think it may have been the same one that turned up in the car park in Ramsgate.’

‘Just tell me what to do,’ said Jane. She sounded calm and collected and it drew a nod of approval from Steven. ‘Make sure all the doors and windows are closed and locked,’ he said. He had barely got the words out before the Range Rover passed the house again, slower this time. Steven saw from behind the curtain that it held two male occupants.

‘All secure,’ said Jane as she returned.

‘I think they’ll go for a knock on the door,’ said Steven. ‘With a bit of luck they may not know that I’m here with you. I left the car outside.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Jane.

‘When they knock try to delay them. Call out that you’re just coming and then wait for my signal.’

Jane nodded. They were both watching the end of the driveway. After what seemed like an eternity one man appeared at the entrance to the drive. He was wearing a smart suit and carried a briefcase in his right hand. He had a clipboard under his left arm, He put down the briefcase and examined the clipboard as if checking address details.’

‘Damn,’ said Steven. ‘Where’s the other one? There were two of them in the car.’ He told Jane that he was going to check the back. ‘Keep an eye on him,’ he said. ‘Let me know what’s happening.’

Steven hurried through to the kitchen, keeping his body below window level until he’d reached the far wall where he could straighten up to sneak a sideways look outside. A shadow moved somewhere in the garden and he dropped down again. He thought he understood the plan. The man at the front would divert Jane’s attention while the other gained admission through the back.

Steven pressed himself up against the wall and watched as the figure outside etched a circle in the glass next to the back door with what he guessed was a diamond-tipped marker because of the scratching sound it made. It was done expertly and in one continuous movement, something that gave Steven a clue as to the quality of the opposition he was facing. The man outside stretched sticky tape across the etched circle before tapping it lightly and removing it to leave a hole six inches across.

The doorbell rang and Jane called out, ‘Just a minute.’

Steven watched a man’s arm come in through the hole in the glass and reach up to unlock the Yale. He let him unlock it, and then allowed him to open the door slowly and take his first step inside before catching him hard on the left temple with the butt of his gun. He reached out quickly to grab the man and stop him falling noisily. He lowered the unconscious figure to the ground.

Although he suspected the man would be out for some time, he still searched him quickly for arms and removed an automatic pistol, which he slipped into his jacket pocket. The doorbell rang again he heard Jane call out, ‘Just a minute will you, I’m coming.’

Steven dropped down beside her behind the couch and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. ‘When I signal, answer the door,’ he whispered. ‘Listen to what he says and then invite him in.’

Steven took up station behind the door, his pistol checked and held at the ready, barrel creating a furrow in his right cheek. He nodded to Jane and she walked over to open the door.

‘Sorry about that,’ she improvised. ‘I was on the phone.’

‘Mrs Sebring? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Deveron. I represent… Paveright Driveways.’

Steven thought that Jane wasn’t the only one improvising. Deveron would be wondering just where the hell his partner was.

‘I couldn’t help but notice that you have stone chippings in the drive,’ said Deveron. ‘Have you ever considered a more modern brick-paved one?’

‘As a matter of fact, I have been thinking about that, Mr Deveron,’ said Jane pleasantly. ‘Why don’t you come in and tell me all about it.’

Deveron took his first step inside and Steven put the barrel of his gun up against his temple. He frisked the man and removed the pistol he was carrying before ordering him to lie down on the floor with his hands behind his head.

‘Who are you?’ demanded Steven.

‘You’re making a big mistake, my friend,’ gasped the man on the ground as Steven kept the gun to his temple and went through his pockets.

‘ID, inside pocket on the left,’ said the man.

Steven flipped open the ID and gave a long sigh.

‘Just stepped out of your league, huh?’ said the man on the floor.

‘What is it, Steven?’ Jane asked.

‘I need something to tie these two up,’ he replied, deliberately ignoring the question.

‘Would plastic clothes-line do?’

‘Perfect.’

Jane went to fetch the line and Steven brought out his own ID and showed it to the man on the floor, just allowing him enough leeway to read it.

‘Sci-Med? What the hell are you doing here?’

‘The difference between us,’ murmured Steven, ‘is that I know why you are here. Now, who sent you?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that,’ grunted the man as Steven once more forced his head down on the floor.

‘Of course not,’ cooed Steven sarcastically. ‘It’ll be a secret.’

‘For Christ’s sake man,’ said the man on the floor. ‘There’s obviously been some kind of screw-up here. Why don’t you just let me up and we can sort this whole mess out?’

Jane came back into the room and handed the line and a small vegetable knife to Steven who set about tying up the man. He then moved on to his unconscious colleague in the kitchen and did the same to him.

‘So what now?’ asked the man on the floor when he returned. ‘What’s the point of all this? Why don’t we just get it all sorted out like civilised people?’

‘Your friend sleeping through there broke into this house,’ said Steven. ‘I’m handing you both over to the police.’

‘Jesus,’ snorted the man on the floor. ‘What do you think plod’s going to do when he sees our ID?’

‘He’s not going to see it,’ replied Steven. ‘I’m taking it with me along with your firearms and if one of these guns should happen to be the weapon that put a bullet in Michael D’Arcy you’ll be seeing the Kent Police as well.’

‘Whose side are you on, Dunbar?’

‘You know, I sometimes wonder,’ said Steven thoughtfully and looking down at the man as if he were a zoo exhibit. He picked up the house phone and then thought better of it. ‘Maybe not,’ he murmured, changing to his mobile and calling the police.

‘Ready?’ Steven asked Jane. She replied with a nod of the head.

‘For Christ’s sake, Dunbar, this is ridiculous,’ complained the man on the floor.

‘Absolutely,’ said Steven, ushering Jane through the door and closing it behind them.

Jane did not say anything until they were inside the car then she slammed her hand down on Steven’s as he made to put the car into gear. ‘Just what the hell is going on?’ she demanded. ‘You seemed to know these people or they knew you. I want some answers before I go anywhere with you.’

‘Unless they’re carrying fake ID, they’re MI5,’ said Steven.

Jane looked long and hard at him before saying, ‘Well, pardon me, but aren’t they supposed to be on our side?’

‘I thought so too,’ said Steven.

‘Are you seriously saying that it was MI5 trying to kill me?’ asked Jane, her voice betraying the incredulity she felt.

‘That’s what it looks like.’

‘Not a Mr “E”?’

‘There has to be an explanation,’ sighed Steven.

‘Will I live to hear it?’ said Jane.

‘I’ll sort it out. I promise.’