The Sleepwalker
‘Playstation at Fahim’s house. They’re getting on really well – I almost feel unnecessary.’
‘That was always likely to be the case,’ Mac said. ‘But Jake needed your help at the start and I’d rather your experience was still on hand. We’ll need you again if anything interesting crops up now.’
‘Any news from MI5 surveillance today?’
‘Nothing,’ Mac sighed. ‘If Hassam and Asif are part of a terrorist organisation they’re hiding it remarkably well.’
‘If they’re cautious they might stick to speaking in code.’
Mac rocked his head from side to side. ‘That’s possible, but you’d think it unlikely when you’re talking about conversations between two brothers in their own offices.’
‘Maybe Hassam is involved but not Asif,’ Lauren suggested.
‘I was wondering that myself,’ Mac nodded. ‘But to be honest I’m starting to think we’re flogging a dead horse.’
‘But Fahim seems pretty certain about what his parents said,’ Lauren noted. ‘And there’s no denying that his mum vanished off the face of the earth in very dodgy circumstances.’
‘Perhaps Fahim misunderstood,’ Mac said. ‘He seems very bright, but MI5 have three operatives on twenty-four-hour surveillance duty. They’ve picked up every phone call, listened to every conversation and read every e-mail. Hassam’s DNA and picture have been checked against all known terrorist databases and he comes up clean, as does his entire immediate family.
‘We’ve opened every file on the hard disks and studied all the documentation you copied. There’s evidence of tax fraud in the accounts, but the picture we’re getting is of a slightly shady trading company that’s bending the rules here and there. Not one word has been said about terrorism.’
‘What about Fahim’s mum saying that the plane was refitted by a company owned by his grandfather?’
Mac shook his head. ‘The plane that crashed originally belonged to a Japanese airline. It was given an overhaul and fitted with an Anglo-Irish interior in India a couple of months before it crashed. I checked out the maintenance facility’s ownership and none of the major shareholders have links to the Bin Hassam family.’
‘Isn’t that a bit iffy?’ Lauren asked. ‘I mean, why send planes to a developing country for maintenance?’
‘It surprised me too,’ Mac nodded. ‘But apparently the aviation industry has boomed in India recently. You can easily fly an aircraft to the sub-continent and maintenance work is labour intensive. It costs up to a third less in India than in Europe or America. Most Indian workshops are modern and either owned or co-owned by Western aerospace companies who stake their reputations on highly trained workers and standards equal or better than anywhere else.’
‘But still,’ Lauren said, ‘it must be easier for a terrorist to get hold of explosives and detonators and place them onboard an airliner while it’s undergoing maintenance in India than it would be to get a bomb through airport security at Heathrow?’
‘Perhaps,’ Mac shrugged. ‘Straight after the crash the investigators sent people across to India to speak with the team that refurbished the aircraft and get copies of their maintenance logs. But none of this alters the fact that after all the information we’ve gathered and a week of surveillance, the only thing we have linking Hassam Bin Hassam with the air crash is Fahim’s claim that he heard his parents mention it during an argument.’
‘So you think it’s all in Fahim’s head?’ Lauren asked, as she pulled off her school shoes and wriggled her toes.
‘Fahim does have a history of nightmares and erratic behaviour,’ Mac said. ‘You know him better than me, what do you think?’
‘He seems perfectly normal,’ Lauren said. ‘I mean, he’s depressed, but under the circumstances who wouldn’t be? And when I’ve had conversations with him about random stuff, he’s obviously intelligent – and more mature than Jake, truth told.’
‘I was thinking,’ Mac said as he shook his head. ‘The reason I first took Fahim’s call to the crash investigation hotline seriously was the obvious fear in his voice. But what if he was traumatised by a nightmare and he woke up scared and confused?’
‘You mean he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t? He was suffering from a concussion. His parents got in a big fight, his mum disappeared and his brain jumped to all kinds of crazy conclusions.’
‘Exactly,’ Mac nodded. ‘It’s possible that his fear after his mother disappeared got jumbled up in his head with the stories he was watching on the news. The psychological report from Warrender Prep School described Fahim as a fantasist.’
Lauren shook her head. ‘He just doesn’t seem like he’s lying to me.’
‘In Fahim’s head, it might all seem real.’
‘So what do we do?’ Lauren asked. ‘How can we be sure one way or the other?’
‘I think it’s time to scale the operation back,’ Mac said. ‘You and Jake can head back to campus. We can leave the surveillance equipment in place for another week or two, but I’ll ask MI5 to call off the live monitoring. We’ll just get one operative to skim through the recordings until the batteries inside the listening devices die off.’
‘Poor Fahim,’ Lauren said sadly. ‘Whatever the truth behind the link to the air crash, he’s still lost his mum.’
‘I know,’ Mac sighed. ‘I haven’t worked out exactly how, but I’ll find a discreet way of informing the police that she’s missing. Hopefully they’ll have more luck getting to the bottom of this than we’ve had.’
‘We’ll have to tell Fahim that we’re abandoning him too,’ Lauren said. ‘After all he’s been through, it’s gonna tear him apart.’
28. TALK
James and Kerry were nearing the end of their two weeks at Deluxe Chicken and they’d gradually got used to the routine and the boredom. They remained on the morning shift, but after they’d seen Gemma the previous Friday she’d worked different hours from Monday onwards and they only saw her briefly in the afternoons before heading back to campus.
Gabriel had also juggled the shifts so he didn’t face the embarrassment of dealing with Kerry. Instead they were supervised by an assistant manager called Wendy. She’d joined Deluxe Chicken as part of a graduate recruitment programme, which meant she could expect rapid promotion to manager of a newly opened restaurant. Despite her exalted status, Wendy was in her early twenties and had done enough crummy jobs when she was at university not to hassle her staff unless they were outrageously lazy.
James and Kerry basically turned up, put on their uniforms and did as little work as they could get away with until it was time to go home. Kerry seemed cheerful and James was pleased that relations between them had finally thawed out. It reminded him of the days between training and their first kiss when they’d just been good friends.
Kerry was pleased to see Gemma when she came in at noon on the Friday, but the feelings didn’t seem mutual.
‘Shift swap,’ Gemma explained grudgingly, without turning to look Kerry in the eye.
‘How was the club on Wednesday night?’ Kerry asked, as Gemma straightened her baseball cap.
‘I didn’t go,’ Gemma said. ‘Mel’s boyfriend’s on leave from the army and Danny’s mum goes to pilates, so I had to stay home with the kids.’
‘I was wondering, actually,’ Kerry said. ‘You know it’s James’ birthday next week? I spoke to Dana and she said it would be really cool if we could all go to the Outrage again, but we obviously can’t if Danny’s still mad at James.’
‘Don’t even think about going there,’ Gemma said, as she finally turned to face Kerry. ‘He’s still in a mood.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Kerry gasped as she saw that Gemma had a huge black eye and a fat lip. ‘Was that him?’
Gemma raised her palms as she pushed past. ‘Don’t start going on about it.’
‘Screw that,’ Kerry said, as she went after her. ‘Did that bully slap you around?’
‘Who else?’ Gemma tutted. ‘There’s n
othing you can do, Kerry. I came in to work so I didn’t have to sit at home thinking about it.’
Kerry was shaking with anger. ‘You can’t let him do that.’
Gemma put her hands on her hips. ‘Kerry, my life is none of your business. It’s your last day of work experience. You’ll head home in a few hours and after that we’ll never see each other again.’
‘I’ll kick his arse myself,’ Kerry steamed.
‘And what good would that do me?’ Gemma snorted, red with embarrassment and fighting off tears. ‘He owns our flat; I’ve got two kids under five and nowhere else to go. He’s been off work with headaches and back pain ever since James decked him. He’s lost a week’s wages and he’s taking it out on me and the kids.’
‘He hits the kids?’ Kerry said incredulously.
Gemma shook her head. ‘He’s got a short fuse. He never hits them, but he goes mental if they play up.’
‘What about your parents?’ Kerry asked.
‘Screw them,’ Gemma said. ‘You think I’m gonna turn up on their doorstep with two kids and a begging bowl, so that they can say I told you so?’
‘Can’t you go to the housing office or something and try getting another place to live? Maybe it won’t be a palace, but you can’t carry on like this.’
‘He’s OK mostly,’ Gemma said, as she dabbed her eye. ‘He’s my man. He’s just got a temper.’
Kerry shook her head. ‘How can you defend him? Have you seen your face in a mirror?’
Gemma stepped back and shouted loud enough for the customers to hear. ‘Kerry, stay out of my life. Don’t come near the club and you’d better warn James that Danny is back working in the pub today. James better steer clear because Danny’s steaming and he knows it’s his last day.’
Kerry looked at her watch. ‘James is on lunch break. He’ll be back any minute.’
*
James jogged across the street with a PC World carrier bag flapping in the wind. He was chuffed because he’d found a titchy MP3 player in the bargain bin. Dana had a full-sized iPod, but she was on the lookout for a dinky one she could clip to her shorts when she went running, and while Christmas and birthday gifts were expected, James had learned that giving your girl something unexpected earns you untold brownie points.
As he stepped on to the kerb, with Deluxe Chicken ten metres away across an expanse of dead shrubs and litter, James noticed Danny coming out of the alleyway that led to the staff entrance.
‘Hey, hey, shit face,’ Danny shouted, before swinging a baseball bat at a Deluxe Chicken dustbin, sending its roof-shaped lid spiralling through the air.
Two of Danny’s mates stood in line behind him. They weren’t as tall, but they had the same kind of leather-jacket-and-fat-neck look about them.
‘I don’t want trouble,’ James said, glancing around to see if there was anyone else coming from another direction. There wasn’t and he reckoned he’d easily be able to outrun the three heavies.
‘You seen Gemma yet, big man?’ Danny jeered. ‘Last night, I punched her from one side of my flat to the other. What have you got to say about that?’
‘You’re a gent,’ James said, shaking his head. ‘I hope your two monkey slaves are proud of you.’
‘Tonight I might just do it again,’ Danny smiled.
‘I don’t want trouble,’ James repeated, backing up slightly. ‘I know it’s all down to your upbringing: your mum being a whore and that.’
Danny reared up. ‘You come over here and say that.’
James had no intention of getting into a street brawl with three blokes who’d never get near him, but as he turned to jog away Gemma stepped out through the front doors of the restaurant.
‘Leave it out Danny,’ she said angrily. ‘He’s only a kid.’
‘I’m messing with him, sweetheart,’ Danny said, making it sound like it was all a joke. ‘Come and give us a little kiss.’
Gemma didn’t seem too sure, but she stepped across and Danny kissed her swollen lips. As Danny let go, he grabbed the ponytail coming out the back of Gemma’s cap and yanked it down, making her yelp as her head snapped backwards.
‘Go on little boy. Run away, run away,’ Danny teased, twisting Gemma’s hair some more with one hand while brandishing the bat with the other. ‘Why don’t you come over and rescue her?’
James pulled out his mobile. ‘I’m calling the cops, you fat freak.’
‘Your word against mine, James,’ Danny said. ‘This little bitch won’t take your side if she knows what’s good for her.’
‘Hey,’ Kerry shouted, as she burst out of the restaurant. She was holding something purple, but it was only after she threw it that James realised it was one of the miniature Frisbees that came with Deluxe Chicken kids’ meals.
From less than two metres it smacked Danny in the forehead. While he was distracted, Kerry bounded forward and nutted him. Danny let Gemma go, then swung at Kerry with the bat, but she dodged before hammering his jaw with her fist.
As Danny’s two goons closed on Kerry, James ran forward and bundled them away, before letting go and knocking them down: one with a roundhouse kick, the other with a punch in the guts.
Meantime, Kerry had Danny down on the ground and she was screaming her head off. ‘You warped little bully,’ she spat, as she grabbed Danny’s tattooed wrist and twisted it behind his back until his arm snapped with a sickening crunch. ‘See how you like some pain.’
James’ well-aimed blows had been little more than a warning, but Danny’s goons had no appetite for more and they scuttled away on all fours as Kerry grabbed the baseball bat and whacked Danny in the shin.
‘Jesus Christ,’ James yelled, running towards her. This had nothing to do with self-defence. Kerry was out for vengeance.
‘You like beating women up?’ she shouted. ‘You like bragging to your mates about smacking her around? I’ll show you, you fat turd.’
A second two-handed swing blasted his other shin with bone-crunching force.
‘Happy now?’ Kerry screamed, looming over Danny with the bat grasped tightly. ‘The only reason I’m not breaking your other arm is that it’ll probably be some poor woman who has to wipe your arse.’
James pulled Kerry back nervously. She’d totally lost control and he thought she might swing at him. But James got his hands around the bat and she let him take it.
‘If you ever lay one finger on her again,’ Kerry warned, wagging her finger furiously, ‘I don’t care if you’ve moved to Mars, I will be there to make your life a misery.’
Danny wasn’t hearing any of this because he was flailing on his back and moaning in agony from a broken arm and two fractured shins.
James put his free arm around Kerry’s back and pulled her into a hug. She was trembling with rage. At the same moment Gemma glanced at Kerry, then hesitantly towards her boyfriend.
Gemma had always defended Danny by saying that he was basically a decent person who suffered from a serious temper. Hearing him brag about beating her up and then using her to lure James had shattered that illusion. She stepped forward and spat furiously on Danny’s leather jacket.
‘You’re an animal!’ Gemma screamed, close to tears. ‘Using me as bait. I’m not a toy, you know.’
James’ stomach churned as he stepped away from Kerry and surveyed the scene. Danny’s two mates were out of sight whilst a dozen customers gawped from inside the restaurant. Wendy, the assistant manager, had locked the door so that nobody could get in or out and she stood behind the glass with her cellphone up to her face.
‘She’s called the cops,’ James said nervously. ‘The police station’s only up the road.’
But Kerry had already seen the police car pulling up at the kerb behind him. Another was speeding through the car park to cut off the other end of the alleyway.
‘Run?’ James asked, looking at Kerry.
She shook her head as Danny continued to moan. They might have got away, but the news would get back to campus one way or another
and their explanation would look far more credible if they stuck around to explain themselves.
What hadn’t occurred to either of them was what the four cops would see as they stepped out of their cars: two smallish females, Danny down on the ground almost passing out in pain and the powerfully built James standing in the middle of it all holding the baseball bat.
‘Put the bat down,’ the lead cop shouted, pulling a stun gun from his belt as he charged towards James.
‘It wasn’t him,’ Kerry shouted.
James didn’t fancy fifty thousand volts, so he obediently dropped the weapon and raised his hands. Two cops shoved him against the brick wall at the side of Deluxe Chicken.
‘You’re nicked,’ the cop said enthusiastically, as his colleague grabbed James’ wrists and snapped on a set of handcuffs.
*
‘It was work experience, for god’s sake,’ Zara Asker shouted. She stood up and rested her knuckles against her glass desk. ‘Kids getting in trouble on missions I can handle, but you’re telling me that James Adams can’t even sell fried chicken for two weeks without getting himself arrested?’
‘Well you see,’ Kerry said weakly, ‘the thing is …’
She’d grabbed a taxi and got back to campus as fast as she could, but hadn’t been able to think up a good explanation before reaching the chairwoman’s office.
‘Spit it out,’ Zara yelled. The chairwoman didn’t lose her temper often, but you knew all about it when she did. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate without this kind of nonsense.’
‘James is innocent,’ Kerry blurted. ‘I beat the guy up but the cops arrested James. He took the baseball bat off me and tried getting me to calm down, but when the cops arrived they saw him standing there with the bat.’
‘Didn’t you try explaining?’
‘I told them I wanted to give a statement, but there were loads of people in the restaurant who all claimed to have seen something different. I even told them that they needed to arrest me instead of James, but they were totally patronising and told me to go away. I’m quite little, so I guess they took one look and decided that James was the only person with the muscle to beat up Danny.’