The Unseen (45 page)

Fear came instantly to Richard. He lifted his hands in protest. “What the fuck’s going on? I’ve done everything that was asked. I brought the files. Only one set.” He began to retreat, looking back along the path to see a shadow of someone moving down. “I want to see Wileman.” He pointed to Stella. “I trusted you.”

“I know. SPI is so subtle, so simple when used on those who think they are so clever.”

“Look,” Richard raised an arm. “You want money?”

“No,” she said. “I want revenge. You ain’t going to rape me or the maid, Harry Woods. You ain’t going to rape any woman, even though it’s the only way you get an erection. Welcome to your sanctuary, your permanent sanctuary beneath the ground.”

He watched the bull nose revolver come up and for an instant looked into the end of its barrel, at least until the sharp flash of its discharge.

Sean woke long before dawn and listened to the silent house, his mind momentarily at peace before the return of memory. It came without mercy. In the end who had allowed his daughters to be kidnapped and Danielle attacked? Who didn’t see the emerging dangers? He could blame Victoria, Cobbart, MI5, the Home Office, but in truth he knew the blame was his. He had screwed up and left Caswell to spread his murder on the web, left him with the ability to butcher other human beings by manipulating the minds of deranged people. Unless he removed that evil, Sean could never forgive himself.

In his study he found the computer still running, the screen saver twisting Escherean shapes through impossible three dimensions. He clicked onto Starways Business Centre and began his report. He spent two hours in deep concentration. He praised the operation teams and damned all others. He tore up the printed copy and switched to a new file. His letter of resignation took minutes, less to ball it up and start another. Each time he gave a reason for his failure, he stopped, dissatisfied. Their way, his way, Zoby would have lived, would have one day walked free. It left only a justice that was beyond the boundaries, beyond the law; Victoria’s justice.

In the room overhead he heard Sophie wake, heard the tremors of fear in her voice as she called for her mother. On the desk his mobile buzzed. The world was still there, still demanding.

“I’m sitting outside in my car. Can we talk?” Victoria asked.

“Sure.” Sean stood and walked through the litter of paper. Inside he felt emotion and resolve battle for supremacy. When he opened the door, Victoria looked up at him, her eyes steady, her voice soft.

“Confession time. Forgiveness time too, I hope.”

He stood back and let her pass into the study. Who didn’t have confessions?

“I intended to kill Zoby from the start,” she said. “I wanted to ever since I saw the bodies of Helen Carter and Lizzie Sinclair, since witnessing what he did to them simply because they were women. When I resigned from CID because of Creech, MI5 took me into their fold for my silence. In return they promised Zoby, but Caswell had to stay clean, least ’til the WorkWell programme was completed. Then the Americans would deal with him.”

“These were orders?”

“Of course not, informal, off the record suggestions. But they might have been printed in stone. Zoby in exchange for Caswell. I sold my soul for revenge.”

“Not for the witch?”

“No, I did it for the dread and humiliation Zoby caused to women, for Sarah, Helen and Lizzie Sinclair. For the young nun in Ireland. In other words, for myself. Involvement made me a victim. You should know that place of entrapment. It’s a dark hole full of cold anger. Alice thinks I killed to protect Caswell. She never realised my rage.” Victoria shook her head as if in disbelief. “I’m the golden girl and in reward the witch has favoured me with the truth, or at least the truth so far as her conscience allows. She left it to my conscience whether I tell you. Under the circumstances, it’s the least I can do.” She paused and spread her fingers. “Caswell is dead. He was a danger to all society. His termination was arranged and carried out by other interested parties”

“Outside of lawful justice, I assume,” Sean said, watching her sit as he leant back on the desk and folded his arms. Staring down at her hunched figure he became conscious of his relief that he would no longer need to pursue retribution.

“I call it peoples’ justice.” Victoria gave a wry smile. “Other than renewing his passport, Harry Woods has not been heard of for years, and no-one is looking for him now. The real Richard Caswell died of an overdose twenty-five years ago after a fellow pupil at Westminster, one Harry Woods, sold him heroin. Both were orphans and both had won scholarships. When Woods came out of prison he assumed Caswell’s complete identity, including his educational record. He was so successful he even managed a passport. With Caswell’s ‘A’ levels, he gained entry to a Glasgow university. At the same time so did Snibbard and Faulkner, all of them studying computer-related courses. Snibbard became a suspect in a series of sadistic rapes but Caswell provided alibis. Due to lack of evidence no-one was charged. Examination of the victims’ computers showed signs of SPI. That’s when the Box became interested and Woods, alias Caswell, entered their files. Six years ago Caswell took SPI to Wileman. Starways funded his research on the pretext of producing anti-virus software, but when it came to experimenting on people, Oscar Wileman drew the line. If caught, Starways would have been globally damaged. But Oscar saw the potential. Caswell was sent back to Britain with the benefit of PKL instead of Starways to fund his research. PKL was also listed as a minor sub-contractor to a Starways subsidiary. However, in reality, they designed WorkWell to accept SPI and through computer games, used the British public as guinea pigs.”

“Wasn’t Wileman worried using someone with Caswell’s background?” Sean asked.

Victoria shook her head. “Caswell was the leader in his field. He was also crooked enough to work outside the law. Our American source tells us Caswell had been set up for sexual blackmail after he raped one of Wileman’s female employees. If Caswell had stepped out of line, he would have ended in an American jail. As it is, he ended dead.”

“And MI5 just watched?” Sean shook his head in despair.

“There was nothing else they could do until Sarah Finch was murdered. Alice raided police files and saw links between Sarah, the Glasgow rapes, Caswell, PKL, Starways and SPI. She immediately guessed what they were doing. When the government of the day read her report, they also saw an opportunity. Alice was placed on the dark side. She became the buffer between politically correct bureaucrats and their desire for public control via mass subliminal hypnosis. Never again was Harry Woods alone. During the last years he’s been continuously monitored. But Alice could never prove his involvement in murder through SPI, so she let the research go forward and waited to grab the results. Then along comes Victoria Lawless, closely followed by Sean Fagan and that really messed things up.”

“You’re telling me we have a government agency sitting on a fence outside the laws of a society they are meant to protect.”

“Alice would call it inactive surveillance. Ethics are one factor, evidence before an enquiry something entirely different. The Box was staying non-committal. Elements within the Home Office wanted access to SPI. Everyone was waiting on Caswell’s completion of the files, including Caswell, because he wanted it for himself. Hence the violent end of his partners. Murder of the Irish girl was meant to divert all attention to Zoby. But he went too far in the abduction of your daughters. That hit Alice. So she did a deal with Wileman. She agreed to let the research go providing he took care of Caswell.”

Sean buried his head in his hands. “Alice Sibree with a guilty conscience, I don’t believe it.”

Victoria shrugged. “Witch or not, she’s still a woman. Children mean something to her. To satisfy the Home Office she gave them the file Caswell had left in the conference room for me to steal. When Caswell was released she had him followed but soon realised Wileman’s people also followed, a big black guy and a young white woman. He was tailed to the bank, then to Heathrow. She checked which computer he carried when he passed through Security, then replaced it with an identical one after he had boarded the plane. She took a calculated risk in assuming that the hard drive contained the SPI software, but she won.”

“So neither the Home Office nor Wileman know she has it?”

“That’s correct. And no-one can ever prove possession. That’s why she told me. I don’t know if I should have told you, I just thought you deserved the truth. And I swear to God, until after last night’s events, I never knew the existence of Harry Woods.”

“You both went outside the boundaries, you know that?” Sean said.

“Yes. I executed Zoby. But who would you have executed, Sean?”

“Caswell. I would have hunted him. Exterminated him.”

“The witch knows that. It’s why she told me the truth, knowing I would come here. The truth implicates us both. Within the SIS, the police, parliament, the Civil Service, there is an inner force, the Community. It’s a group beyond the Old Boys’ Club, a group both secret and powerful. It’s composed of people who arrange justice for the right of justice. People who would behave like you and I, Sean. People like the Wicked Witch. That is where she has taken SPI. Where she always intended it to go. Not to the government but the inner circle, to the unseen.”

“What is wrong remains wrong. Once WorkWell is implemented by Wileman, what is to stop your community from using SPI for their own benefit?” Sean asked.

“They would never be caught, so who would know?” She paused, raised her eyes. “What I want to know, by telling the truth, do I cast us both into their eternal darkness?”

Sean looked across to her. Her eyes were wide and questioning.

He shook his head. “Perhaps that darkness is here already.”