The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(38)
Ryan was nodding. ‘That’s standard procedure in antiterrorist cases. It’s the only way we ensure that information isn’t leaked – to or by anyone.’
‘An effective strategy,’ Newman said. ‘If it’s MI5 you’re up against, they’ll put up walls if they think you’re poking your noses into business that doesn’t concern you. And they’ll be watching you in case you uncover information they don’t have.’
Ryan was torn. There were two sides to every argument. Undercover policing and MI5 were separate entities, both conducting important work, viewed as the good guys until the wheel came off, then public perception changed. When jobs went wrong, as they sometimes did, the press were up in arms demanding complete transparency. Unfortunately, that didn’t protect people who put their lives on the line. If you wanted to infiltrate organized crime gangs, hard-core activist groups or terrorist cells – or, God forbid, your own government – rules sometimes went by the wayside. They all agreed that people working behind the scenes deserved anonymity.
Paradoxically, this wouldn’t help their unit.
Ryan hoped that Newman might cut through the bureaucracy. A spook with the ability to hide in plain sight was the perfect man to take on those seeking to withhold the truth in the interests of national security. He might even get lucky and find himself a whistle-blower, prepared to speak out for the greater good. In doing so, they might be putting their own life at stake in the process. Newman wouldn’t want his informants compromised.
Ryan summarized: ‘Over and above the fact that two of our victims operated in the public eye, we have nothing of evidential value. The important thing – apart from the list of actions Eloise issued – is the mysterious couple who made off with Trevathan’s briefcase. His chambers deny they were responsible for retrieving it. If that’s true, they’ll be doing their utmost to find it.’
22
O’Neil didn’t believe that the briefcase was in the hands of the Home Office and no one disagreed with her. Grace guessed that it might be with MI5, but it didn’t sound like it to Ryan. It wasn’t their style to use super-sleek, shiny vehicles in pristine condition. They preferred toned-down cars, the better to blend in. There was nothing covert about the grey Mercedes the couple had been driving; Mrs Forbes remembered everything about it. She’d given a good description of the woman too: film-star looks, high heels, distinctive red coat. MI5 operatives were usually nondescript, regular height, regular everything, nothing about their appearance that your average punter would remember. They certainly didn’t wear expensive gear that screamed at you. Unless, as Newman was quick to point out, that was the impression they were trying to give, in which case the opposite was true.
‘We’ll bear that in mind as we move forward,’ O’Neil said. ‘So what we have is two high-profile deaths, both male, one nurse we think happened on the crime scene at the wrong moment (James Fraser may have seen the offenders we’re seeking), and two missing victims from crime scenes in Brighton and North Shields, the local one is female.’ She glanced at Ryan. ‘Any update from the Family Liaison Officer?’
‘Not yet.’
‘When we’re done, call and ask for one. Mrs Fraser may need our protection. Potentially she’s the only living UK witness.’
‘Unless our offenders are the man and woman who took the briefcase, in which case Trevathan’s housekeeper also needs protection,’ said Ryan.
O’Neil took a deep breath, frustrated by a case that was growing in complexity. ‘Our priority – and this is where you come in, Grace – is to establish links between the British Ambassador to Denmark . . .’ She glanced at Newman. ‘Help me out here, Frank. I don’t recall his name.’
‘Paul Dean,’ he said.
‘Thank you. Grace, everything you can dig up on him and Trevathan, quick as you can. Frank, you’re on the trial Trevathan was due to preside over. Ryan and I will be feet on the ground. As I said before, I’ll try a direct approach to Ford, but I’m not confident. He’s been less than cooperative so far. We’re not just being paranoid either. He’s been found out for withholding information. That said, the trial might have nothing whatsoever to do with our investigation, but without more intelligence we have no way of determining possible connections between the victims and the trial.’ O’Neil took a short breather, checking the briefing sheet she’d prepared earlier, then added: ‘Frank, you’re more informed than we are. Use your contacts in whatever way you can. And just so we’re clear, I do not want to know how you come by information. Get me what you can and I’ll square it my end. Anything you think is relevant, feed it to Grace. Grace, you do nothing with it until I say so.’
Ryan caught Grace’s eye across the room. She was excited to be on board, couldn’t wait to get stuck in. There were three or four legs of the enquiry, each one as important as the next. Her role was making witness and evidence connections, finding similarities, overseeing satellite rooms, acting as researcher, receiver and office manager all rolled into one. She’d love that. Nothing fired her jets like running a major incident room. Retirement really had disappointed her. Cut adrift from the police force, she’d struggled to find her way. Ryan suspected the same was true of Newman. There was only so much fishing and sailing you could do if you were born to investigate criminal activity.