He'd been up late trawling the web for information that would link Ken Longhurst with America, but had run up against a familiar blank. Determined not to be defeated, he returned to his laptop, tea in hand, and with a renewed vigour brought on by a decent night's sleep.
The screen of his laptop flashed on, and Trent navigated straight to his e-mails, which had filled up overnight with the usual unsolicited communications offering everything from cut price broadband to cheap insurance and pills for sexual potency. He hit the delete button with gleeful abandon, but hesitated when he came across a message with the subject title "Ken Longhurst." It had been sent from an address he didn't recognise, and he opened it with an excited anticipation, hoping at last it might be a breakthrough.
The message was short and to the point.
'I thought you might find this interesting,' it said.
It was signed, 'Gary Samson.'
Trent clicked on a hyperlink pasted into the body of the e-mail. It opened a web page showing a facsimile of an American newspaper called the Beaumont Messenger from ten years earlier. One article dominated the page with a monochrome photograph across six columns. A smiling group of men and women bunched together in the sort of picture local newspapers specialised in.
Above the picture was a bold headline: 'Christian Conference Attracts Record Numbers.'
The article was an uninspiring read about an inaugural conference of a quasi-political religious organisation called the Christian Morality Campaign. There was no mention of Ken Longhurst or even the British Freedom Alliance. Trent scratched his stubbly chin and re-read the story line-by-line, absorbing the content in case he had missed something important.
A Christian conference held in Beaumont this weekend was attended by almost 300 people, far in excess of the organizers' expectations, writes Jeff Rogers.
Oil tycoon, Larry Hopper, who was pleased but not surprized by the turnout, established the Christian Morality Campaign.
He told the Messenger: 'People are looking for an alternative voice and we're offering that alternative. They're disenfranchised and disillusioned with our increasingly liberal politicians, and they want to see a return to the traditional values.'
Mr Hopper, one of the region's leading oilmen, said he founded the CMC after an increasing frustration at what he described as the failings of modern society.
The organization is opposed to abortion and has an open anti-homosexuality policy.
'We just want to give like-minded individuals the chance to get together to discuss what's on their minds,' said Mr Hopper.
Following the success of the conference, the organization hopes to hold an annual event in the city.'
Trent's eye wandered to the photograph that accompanied the piece. Around twenty delegates had been lined up for the picture outside an anonymous-looking building. At the centre of the group, an avuncular man with a thick beard and wearing a traditional Texan Stetson was grinning widely. A caption confirmed Trent's assumption that this was Larry Hopper.
He guessed that the key to deciphering Gary's cryptic message was in finding out more about the oilman. And so he began a furious web search and discovered that, unlike Ken Longhurst, background information on Hopper was not difficult to come by.
Trent leapt from the sofa and bounded across the room, startling his middle-aged cat, Tabitha. She lifted her head wearily and shot Trent a puzzled look as he grabbed his briefcase, discarded on the floor near the front door, and rummaged around inside for a notebook and pen.
When he returned to his computer, he absentmindedly gave Tabitha a gentle stroke on the top of her head, causing her to arch her neck, drinking in the attention of her owner. Trent scribbled the name Larry Hopper in bold capitals along the top of a page of his notebook and set about furiously scribbling notes.
After two hours, his eyes began to sting. Glancing up at the clock on the front of the oven in the kitchen, he found it was already late morning.
'Time to get dressed I think, Tabs.' He gave the cat another stroke as he headed for the bathroom to fill the bath. As the cold stream of water lethargically turned hot, he returned to his laptop and the article from Beaumont.
The image of Larry Hopper was already haunting him. He had a sense that the photograph had some deep significance that he failed to grasp. He hit the print button and closed the page. Across the other side of the room, a wireless printer jumped to life as ink cartridges launched into a staccato dance across a blank sheet of paper.
The bath was close to over-running. Trent tested the water with his elbow and inched his pasty body into the tub. He submerged all but his head and his knees, then closed his eyes. Images of Larry Hopper filled his head as he drifted into a light sleep, his muscles eased by the warm water.
He awoke ten minutes later with the uncomfortable sensation that he was getting cold. He sat up, washed his face, and dried himself with a thin towel. He wiped steam from a mirror and tackled a small, white pimple on his cheek with the care of a surgeon. Feeling suitably cleaned and groomed, he wandered back to the printer, gritty crumbs sticking to the soles of his bare feet.
A single sheet of paper was waiting for him. Trent snatched it up, again studying the picture of Hopper and the crowd of delegates. With fresh eyes, he noticed something that had escaped him before. It was the clue he had spent all morning searching for, and yet it had somehow eluded him.
'Gotcha,' he gasped. Tabitha uncurled her head from her body and stared at him through narrow eyes. 'Now that could explain an awful lot.'
Chapter 24
The phone had already rung three times, and on each occasion Professor John Sturridge had glanced up from his marking and glared at the unfamiliar number. The fourth time he snatched up the handset.
'Yes?'
'Professor Sturridge? My name's Trent Garside. I really need some help. I'm researching the rise of far-right politics in Britain for an article I'm writing - '
'My specialism is in American politics,' the professor said, interrupting Trent. 'I'm probably not the best person to speak with. Why don't you give my colleague - '
'No, Professor Sturridge, it's exactly your expertise I need,' Trent continued. 'It's about Larry Hopper. You know who he is, of course. Well, I have a suspicion he's bankrolling the far-right in the U.K., and possibly has connections with the British Freedom Alliance too.'
Trent hoped the allegation would peak the professor's interest.
'An interesting accusation, Mr Garside.'
'Would you meet me?'
'I'm quite tied up -'
'It shouldn't take long.'
'Let me check my diary.'
'I'm already in Oxford. I can be with you in half an hour.'
*
Trent sank into a well-worn leather chair as Professor Sturridge pulled up an armchair on the other side of a low coffee table scarred by coffee mug scorch marks.
'I really don't have long. I can give you twenty minutes before my next tutorial group. You wanted to know about Larry Hopper?'
'I appreciate your time,' said Trent, taking out a notebook and pen from his briefcase. 'I understand that you've met him in person?'
'A few years ago.'
'But you spoke to him for a research paper?'
'Like you, I needed some background on his early years, so I approached him for an interview.'
'Well, I've read as much as I can on the internet, but I'm not sure I'm getting the whole story. What's he like?'
'My honest opinion?'
'Of course.'
'He's a bigoted narcissist who poses a grave threat to the stability of the United States.'
Trent wondered if he was joking, but the professor's face was stony serious. 'Can we start with how he became involved in the oil industry?'
'It was a family business. It was supposed to have been handed down to the eldest son, Isaac, but he wanted nothing to do with it. But his second son, Larry, was different. He yearned to please his father and thought it was a
good way to prove himself. He was right. He was a quick learner and showed a natural talent for business.
'When he took over, it was a small-scale operation comprising a couple of medium-sized oilfields, but Larry had ambitions for greater things and started to expand. Within a few years, he'd mopped up a dozen or so independent operations in the region until the Hopper enterprise had become one of the largest and most powerful in southern Texas.'
'That's impressive,' said Trent.
'Maybe. The speed and scale of his ambition was certainly unprecedented, but there were question marks over his methods.'
Trent looked up from his note taking and raised an eyebrow.
'Most of the businesses he acquired were bought at prices well below their market value,' said the professor. 'Now how do you think he managed that?'
Trent shook his head. 'He was a hard negotiator?'
'Undoubtedly, but there's widely held suspicion that most of those firms were coerced into selling.'
'What do you mean coerced?'
'I mean, Larry Hopper used intimidation, fear, violence even, to get what he wanted. In those early years, nothing stopped him when he set his sights on an acquisition.'
'Is there any evidence to back that up?'
The professor laughed ironically. 'Nothing that would hold up in a court of law. I think he was careful to make sure no one could testify against him, but there were plenty of accidents and mishaps.'
'Accidents?'
'Nothing that was directly attributable to Hopper, of course, but it's surprising how many of his business rivals and their families had a terrible run of luck around that time. You can look up the details yourself, but there were a whole litany of fires, floods, car crashes and apparent Acts of God. And one by one, they all agreed to sell up.'
'Did you ask him about it?'
'I'm an academic, Mr. Garside, not a reporter. I wanted to find out what motivated him to go into politics. I wasn't looking to grill him about how he'd built his business.'
'Okay, so how did he - or rather why did he - get into politics?'
'You have to understand that, like his father, he was, and remains, a devout Christian. He claims he had a desire to give something back to the community. But what sparked his interest in politics in particular was an incident in a neighbouring town when a young black girl fell pregnant after being raped by a white boy. Her doctor refused to carry out a termination on moral grounds, and when her parents went to the press, the ensuing storm divided the community. It inspired Hopper to become involved with the pro-life campaign, and he became responsible for organising a series of protest marches and rallies across the state.
'But as with so many things with Larry Hopper, there was more to it than met the eye. The way he described the incident to me made me quite uncomfortable. Of course, as a Christian, he had strong feelings about the sanctity of life, but it struck me that the issue was just as much about race. If that poor child hadn't have been black, I doubt he'd have shown the same interest.'
'You don't paint a very flattering picture,' said Trent.
'You wanted to know what I made of him. I'm telling it as I saw it.'
'So you're saying he's a racist?'
'There's another story from around the same time about a young black man and his family who were forced from their home by a lynch mob after he was convicted of a fairly minor theft offence. They burned the house to the ground, and literally ran them all out of town. And who do you think was credited with inciting them?'
'Hopper?' said Trent.
'Well, it certainly fitted with the strong-arm tactics he'd learnt in business.'
'What about the Christian Morality Campaign? How did that come about?'
'That was a direct spin-off from his pro-life campaigning. What started as an issue about the rights of the unborn child, soon became a demand for what he called a return to core American values and a traditional moral fortitude. He found his words were like opium to the impoverished masses who bought into his God-fearing rhetoric without question.'
'It gave him the idea of creating a political movement and at a conference he organised to address several hundred die-hard supporters, the idea of the Christian Morality Campaign was born.'
'The conference in Beaumont?' asked Trent. 'I heard about that.'
'He famously gave a speech deriding the breakdown of American society, and called on every citizen to fight back against the country's moral decline. I guess that set the tone for the future of the party. Incredibly, support for the CMC grew rapidly. It initially gained a foothold in the south, but eventually its popularity spread across the country. He openly condemned abortionists, mixed marriages, gay weddings, and spoke out about the growing tide of illegal immigrants. And for whatever reason, this brand of fundamental Christianity struck a chord with many ordinary Americans.'
'I see,' said Trent, scribbling furiously.
'Now, let me ask you something. You said on the phone that you suspect Larry Hopper is bankrolling the far right in the U.K.?'
Trent sat back in his chair and closed his notebook. 'It's not much more than a theory at the moment, but I think Larry Hopper could be diverting funds to the BFA, yes.'
'Do you think Hopper is pulling the strings of the BFA? If so, that's a dangerous allegation.'
'Dangerous?'
'Do some research on the Phineas Priests.'
Trent flipped open his notebook and wrote down the name.
'I doubt you've heard of them, but in the States they've been behind a number of terrorist attacks, and although their campaign started fairly low key, they're getting more audacious. What began with the firebombing of an abortion clinic, and an explosion at a gay wedding, quickly became a plot to bomb an FBI building. And you remember the flight to Mexico that exploded in mid-air last year? That was later claimed by the Phineas Priests. Relatively few fatalities so far, but each time the attacks have become more serious.'
'What does that have to do with Larry Hopper or the BFA?'
'I'd stake my reputation that Hopper's behind the Phineas Priests, and if Hopper has links to the BFA over here, it's going to end in bloodshed. I just hope you're wrong.'
Trent rummaged in his briefcase for the printout of the Beaumont Messenger report he'd printed from the internet. He straightened the piece of paper on his knee and offered it across the coffee table. 'I think you'd better have a look at this.'
The professor studied the printout for a moment, and shrugged. 'It's a report on that first conference in Beaumont. So?'
'Take a closer look at the photograph. Recognise the face over Hopper's left shoulder?'
The academic peered intently, drawing the paper closer to his face. 'Ken Longhurst?'
'Younger, but definitely him. Proof at least that there's a link between them.'
'So it seems,' said the professor.
He handed the paper back to Trent as a loud knock on the door interrupted the interview. The professor glanced at a clock on the wall. 'Just a minute,' he called out. 'I'm afraid that's my tutorial group arriving.'
Trent gathered his belongings into his briefcase. 'I appreciate your time,' he said. 'It's been an education.'
'My pleasure. So what next?' asked the professor, as he stood and showed Trent to the door.
'I'm not sure yet.'
'You know Larry Hopper is due in the country?'
'Really?' said Trent, his eyes lighting up. 'When?'
'Next week. He's been invited to speak at the Oxford Union.'
Chapter 25
Pete French was still at the office typing up a late story with only the cleaner for company, when the phone rang. 'Trent. What's up?'
'You still in the office?'
The cleaner flicked on a vacuum, and began poking about under the desks at the far side of the newsroom.
'I'm on a late breaker and wanted to get it filed before I left.'
'Pete, I'm onto something really big with the BFA. I'm pretty sure they're being fund
ed with American money. Ever heard of an oilman called Larry Hopper?'
'That bloke from the Christian campaign group?'
'The Christian Morality Campaign. He's bankrolling the whole U.K. operation.'
'Wow, can you prove it?'
'I'm getting close. But there's more. Hopper's also connected to a right-wing extremist group called the Phineas Priests. The FBI's been investigating them because of their involvement in violence against minority groups.'
'Slow down, Trent. Who are the Phineas Priests?'
'No one really knows, but lots of people in the States suspect that Larry Hopper is behind it all.'
'Hang on, are you suggesting that because Larry Hopper is funding the BFA, these Phineas Priests are going to start launching attacks in Britain?'
'I don't know, but it's a possibility don't you think?' Even over the phone Pete could sense Trent's excitement, as if he was on the verge of something massive. 'I know it's a big leap, but that's why I want to pick your brains. Can you think of any recent incidents that the BFA might have been behind, I mean anything that's overtly racially or morally motivated?'
Pete watched the cleaner run the vacuum effortlessly around the floor. He pulled a forced grin as she glanced up at him, conscious of a pair of eyes watching her at work. 'Nothing springs to mind.'
'Well, let me know if you think of anything. Maybe I'm wrong, but I have this really bad feeling that something's going on. Did you know Larry Hopper's in the country this week? He's going to speak at the Union. I'm going see if I can get along.'
'Now you mention it -' Pete scrabbled around his desk for a copy of the Evening Standard. He flicked through the pages until he found the picture story he'd remembered. 'His yacht arrived in London yesterday. It's moored in Canary Wharf. There's a picture in today's Standard if you can get your hands on a copy.'
'Does it say if Hopper was on board?'
Pete scanned the few lines of copy to the right of the photo. 'It says he's due to fly into the country and will join the yacht later. He uses it as his floating home-from-home because he hates staying in hotels when he's abroad. How the other half live, eh? There's not much more information, I'm afraid.'
'No, that's great. Thanks, Pete. I might see if I can get an invite on board.'