The Hornbeam Tree (46 page)

‘What’s even worse,’ she said to Katie, ‘is that he’s just turned himself into a fugitive, so maybe we’ve played straight into their hands, because there’s nothing, not even the law, to stop them now. They could even kill him and claim he was resisting arrest.’

‘They’re not going to do that,’ Katie protested. ‘There are too many of us who know the truth. They’d never get away with it.’

‘With a charge of conspiracy to terrorism hanging over him, they can do anything. They’ve rewritten the law books, remember, here and in the States, and if they think they can make it stick …’

‘Let me remind you again who he is,’ Katie said firmly. ‘And frankly, they’ve got more to worry about, because they’re the ones taking these desperate, insidious measures to stop us exposing what lengths they’re prepared to go to to hang on to power and jackboot through the world. Trying to brand a reputable journalist a terrorist is going to be their downfall.’

As she finished Michelle’s eyes came to hers. They continued to look at each other, the meaning of the last few words becoming more apparent with each passing second.

Still slightly stunned by what she’d inadvertently stumbled upon, Katie said, ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

Michelle nodded. ‘This could be our proof.’ she said.

‘It’s been staring us in the face all along.’

Again Michelle nodded.

Needing to spell it out, Katie said, ‘Why would they go after Tom like this, go to such extremes to silence him, if the P2OG doesn’t exist and all our deductions are wrong? They wouldn’t. So it has to exist, and all we have to do is report everything that’s happened since he received those documents, then sit back and let them explain.’

‘Because we’re not presenting it to a court of law,’ Michelle continued, ‘but to the court of public opinion, so it’s a question of who’s most likely to be believed. Us or them. The media or the hawks.’

Katie got to her feet. ‘Actually, it hasn’t been staring us in the face,’ she said, ‘it’s been building, coming into focus with each step of the process. Someone, our anonymous benefactor, knows what he’s doing. He can’t get the proof to us, so he’s helping us create another kind of proof, and one that can’t be traced back to him.’ She spun round to look at Michelle. ‘We need Elliot’s opinion on this,’ she said, ‘but I’m convinced we’re right, and if we are, the only issue we’re facing now is one of credibility. We have to pull it together in a way to make it utterly believable and virtually irrefutable, which shouldn’t be hard.’

‘There has to be something in the ’97 version that’s going to seal it,’ Michelle said. ‘Why else would someone keep pointing us in that direction?’

‘And Nick has that version now.’

Hearing a car approach, Michelle turned sharply to the window and immediately felt her blood run cold. ‘OK, looks like they’re here,’ she murmured, as a dark grey saloon drove in alongside Katie’s Fiesta, followed by two more similar vehicles that came up behind, totally blocking the lane.
‘
Remember, Elliot said their instructions are to keep it low key, so if they start threatening to arrest us, hold firm. It’s unlikely they’ll do it today.’

‘Oh lovely,’ Katie muttered, ‘something to look forward to tomorrow.’

As the car doors opened Michelle’s alarm began to grow. There wasn’t a uniformed officer amongst them, only men in bulky sports gear and trainers, or plain grey suits. ‘Eight,’ she finished counting, as they came towards the house. ‘Why so many? They’re bound to know by now that he’s not here.’

Downing the last of the champagne, Katie fought back her nerves and braced herself for combat. She was well used to taking on authority, had made quite a career of it in fact, but she had to confess she’d never faced it at this level before, or from the unfortunately shaky ground of having just helped a wanted man to escape arrest. Without question this gave them the upper hand, but it didn’t
give them the right
to go trudging all over her garden, poking about without introduction or invitation as though Tom was secreted under a flower pot, or riding a bucket down the well.

‘The bloody nerve of it,’ she declared, as one of them began turfing her spades out of the shed, but as she started towards the door Michelle pulled her back.

‘Don’t antagonize them,’ she warned. ‘We can be fairly certain they’ve got the power to do pretty much as they please …’

‘Not in my house they haven’t.’

‘Katie, please. If they want to arrest us they probably can.’

At that Katie deflated, and wishing she hadn’t
had
quite so much champagne, she tried to assimilate her thoughts as Michelle went to open the door.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ she said politely. ‘Can we help you?’

Fellowes turned from where he was watching the search to face her. Seeing who it was, his left eyebrow arched. ‘Michelle Rowe,’ he stated, looking her up and down.

Since he’d almost certainly have been told she was with Tom in the getaway car, she understood his surprise. ‘Legal Attaché Fellowes,’ she responded. ‘Can I ask what this is about?’

‘You know why we’re here,’ he retorted, ‘so don’t let’s waste each other’s time. You’ve just assisted a suspected felon to escape arrest, now you tell me where he is, and I won’t arrest you.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s the suspected felon?’

His eyes seemed to cut right through her as taking two paces forward he came breath-smellingly close. ‘We know you were tipped off, we even know who made the call, so I’ll ask the question again, where is he?’

Her eyes stayed rooted to his. This man was full of hate, she could sense it as though it were crawling all over her. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered.

He stared back and waited, but was the first to look away as DI Wilding joined them. ‘Time to get them inside,’ Fellowes said roughly. ‘Make sure they give it a thorough going-over, and take the computers for forensics.’

After glancing at Michelle, though making no attempt to reintroduce himself, Wilding barked the
order
, and stood aside as the other officers came swarming towards them. Michelle went in ahead and shot Katie a warning look as they began filling up the kitchen.

Katie watched, then tensed with outrage as they began pulling out drawers, rifling the contents, then dumping them on the floor.

Michelle moved swiftly to her side. ‘Just think of Molly,’ she muttered. ‘You want to be here when she gets back.’

Katie looked at her, then at Fellowes as he squeezed in behind the others.

‘Mrs Kiernan,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope you’ve got more sense than your sister.’

‘If you want anything from me, you can tell these men to stop their vandalism right now!’ she retorted fiercely.

‘This house is known to have been used by a suspected terrorist,’ he responded smoothly. ‘It has to be searched.’

Michelle’s heart was thudding. ‘You know damned well he’s no terrorist,’ she said, unable to keep the contempt from her voice.

Fellowes’s face was an unpleasant mask of distaste as he turned back to her. ‘What I know,’ he said, ‘is that scum like him should never be allowed to call themselves an American.’

‘What the hell?’ Katie exclaimed, as something smashed in the sitting room, and charging in there, she saw one of her mother’s vases in pieces on the hearth. ‘What have you done?’ she cried, glaring at the man who was turning a couple of pieces of paper over in his hand. ‘Why did you do that? You could have just taken them out. They’re my
daughter’s
premium bonds, for God’s sake.’

Seeing she was right, he tossed them on to a chair and continued his search.

Behind her, Fellowes said, ‘Mrs Kiernan, if you tell us …’

She spun round.

‘If you tell us where he is,’ he continued, ‘we can be out of here in a couple of minutes.’

‘I don’t know where he is,’ she retorted. ‘And I’d like to know what jurisdiction you have here in this country, and in my house.’

Ignoring the demand he said, ‘The fact that he was here makes
you
a co-conspirator, Mrs Kiernan.’

Katie’s eyes moved to Michelle. ‘Tell him what happened,’ she said. ‘When you left here, tell him where you went, and what happened.’

Michelle turned calmly to Fellowes. ‘We drove to the station,’ she said. ‘There were no trains due, so he took the car and I came back here. So neither of us knows where he is now, or where he’s heading.’

Fellowes’s mouth curved in disdain. ‘You’re not helping yourselves, ladies,’ he told them. ‘You’ve got to know what a bad position you’re in, so why do this? You could be looking at as much as ten years for your part in all this.’

Overcome by a strong need to sit down, Katie started towards a chair. As she got there she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs, telling her that the bedrooms were now about to be ransacked too. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and gave a couple of little pants – a small effort to block the creeping exhaustion that was starting to claim her limbs.

Dragging her eyes from the window where she’d
spotted
Laurie moving in behind one of the cars, Michelle looked at Katie and felt immediately concerned. She was horribly pale, and clearly had somehow to be released from this ordeal, so turning abruptly to Wilding and Fellowes, she said, ‘Could I speak to you gentlemen outside please?’

As she closed the door behind them, she said coldly, ‘I think you probably know how ill my sister is, so all you’re achieving right now is considerable distress to a terminally sick woman whose only crime is to be related to me. She didn’t know Tom was coming here, and when he arrived he certainly wasn’t a wanted man. The minute we heard that he was he left, so she’s provided no safe haven, nor was she in any way involved in his departure. Now, I’ve told you the part I played, you know he isn’t here, you also know that not one of us, including Tom, is a terrorist, so can we please end this farce before my sister collapses under the strain.’

Fellowes’s expression turned thunderous as his face closed in on hers. ‘The evidence is stacked so high against your boyfriend, Ms Rowe, that none of you is going to escape the shadow. And you think she’s the only one with cancer in there? Well, let me tell you, we’ve got a world full of cancer out here, thanks to the scumbags your boyfriend knocks about with. Oh yeah, we know all about him. We’ve got his every move tracked from Somalia, to Afghanistan, to Pakistan, and whose footsteps does that put him in? Eh? The most wanted man on the planet’s, that’s whose …’

‘He’s a journalist, for God’s sake. Those are the kinds of stories …’

‘… he covers,’ he finished for her. ‘And what a great cover, except we’re seeing right through it. Sure, he might report the stories, but you know what he’s really up to, you’ve known for years, because you’re in on it too. You’re Arab-lovers, the pair of you. Anarchists. Subversives. You’ve turned against your own to join their war and help them kill, maim and terrorize the innocent people of your own countries. That’s who you are. You there in those refugee camps, stirring up hatred, recruiting for your boyfriend who hands them over to the madrasas where they get turned into the filthy, murdering bastards who spread out like a plague into the civilized world, waiting their time to tear it apart. Tell me, since when did either of you live in your own countries? Since a very long time. So it’s all bullshit about your sister. You’re only here, Michelle, to make contact with some sleeper cell to start …’

‘Are you completely out of your mind?’ she said tightly. ‘If that’s what you’ve been told, and you believe it …’

‘He’s been in those Afghan training camps,’ Fellowes hissed. ‘He hangs out in those hate-breeding Islamic schools and back-street cafés. His friends are all Arabs and Pakistanis and devout followers of the Prophet. He even dresses like them. Shit, he’s even got himself an Arab name. And now he’s got you here, doing his dirty work for him, connecting up with other operatives.’

Being quite clear now of the spin they were putting on Tom’s life, and her own, Michelle turned to Wilding and said, ‘This man who sounds very like a white supremacist, and certainly a racist, has
clearly
been successfully brainwashed by the far right-wing elements of his own government into believing exactly what they tell him, so there’s little point in me standing here trying to defend myself against such raging prejudice. But what would you say, Inspector Wilding, if I told you that the plans Legal Attaché Fellowes is referring to originate from a top secret task force known as the P2OG? That’s Proactive Pre-emptive Operations Group, whose brief is to incite acts of terrorism in order to facilitate a swift military response in countries where the US has something to gain. And who’s behind the P2OG? Who’s giving the orders? For that we go straight to the highest corridors of power, where a small but select group of neo-conservatives is contriving by all means possible to keep the world’s biggest power base under their control. Wreaking fear on their own people by constantly upping and dropping security alerts, cancelling flights, and sending sniffer dogs into crowded areas to search for non-existent dirty bombs is a part of it. As is subjecting anyone with a swarthy complexion to despicable human and civil rights abuses, and dispensing with due process of law if anyone, such as Tom Chambers, challenges their authority. The other part of it is to prove to the American people that the threat still exists – which it does, no-one’s arguing with that – but that it still exists in a form that can reach them on their own soil, even in their own homes. To allow an attack on the American homeland would suggest they’re not in control, but an attack on Britain, their staunchest ally, and partner in a special relationship, now that would be effective. Even an aborted attack, if its intent were
lethal
enough, would get the American fear level soaring, just prior to a presidential election – and that’s the date on this plot Legal Attaché Fellowes has told you about – and who’s going to vote for a change of leadership when there’s an emergency on?’

Fellowes started to applaud, a slow, sarcastic clap that earned him an unruffled smile from Michelle and an unreadable stare from Wilding. ‘Congratulations,’ Fellowes said scathingly, ‘you just keep that up, because you’re putting a big fat noose round your own neck with all that subversive bullshit.’