The Rain-Soaked Bride Read online

  ‘Afternoon, Toby,’ said Shining, settling in behind his desk, ‘and how are things here at the very hub of the world?’

  Toby looked out of the window at the bored hustle and bustle of Wood Green High Road and sighed. ‘Boring. How was the medium?’

  ‘He shall trouble the spirits no more. Never mind him, though. I have something far more exciting to occupy us!’

  Toby perked up. ‘Last time you said that it turned out you had tickets to see Jethro Tull in concert. I do hope this is better news.’

  ‘No prog-rock flautists for us today, my eager young spy. I’ve had a fascinating phone call from Detective Sahni. You remember her, of course?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘She has been investigating some particularly unusual deaths and, unless I am very much mistaken, we shall soon find ourselves in the almost unheard of position of being called upon by our superiors.’

  ‘You think they want their office back?’

  ‘I think, Toby, that life is about to get more interesting!’

  c) Cornwell’s Club, Mayfair, London

  Shining was proved right in a matter of minutes, a call coming through that requested their presence for a briefing of ‘utmost importance’.

  Within an hour, they found themselves ensconced in a private room at the Cornwell’s Club on Mayfair.

  ‘I’m not sure people like me are allowed in here,’ said Toby, shifting awkwardly in his seat and trying to keep his hands off the highly polished meeting table.

  ‘Think yourself lucky,’ Shining replied. ‘The place is poison, a hell of bigotry, tweed and ironed newspapers.’

  The door opened and three men entered. One was a young, professional-looking man. An intelligence officer, Toby decided. The others were a pair of civil servants. They were of a type, the sort of men who spent their weekends pointing shotguns at wildlife. One of them was particularly familiar.

  ‘Sir Robin,’ said Shining extending his hand to the most corpulent and familiar of the trio. Looking at him in his suit, Toby was reminded of the way a plastic bag filled with water strains and wobbles into unexpected shapes. ‘How delightful to see you.’

  Sir Robin ignored the extended hand, as Shining had known he would. He kept it there for a brief moment then popped it back into his pocket where it played contentedly with some loose change.

  ‘This meeting is not my idea, Shining,’ Sir Robin said. ‘My attitude towards your department is well known.’

  ‘It is indeed,’ Shining said with a smile as if Sir Robin had offered a compliment.

  ‘The meeting was called by me,’ said one of the other men. Toby recognised him as Clive King, the assistant Business Secretary, a man who occasionally languished on Newsnight when the day’s current affairs had been minimal. ‘I had no idea such a department existed, I must say, but if the night’s events are anything to go by then we will have good reason to be grateful it does.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ muttered Sir Robin, sitting down at the head of the table. ‘You know Fratfield?’

  Toby was thinking of a small town in Gloucestershire when he realised that Sir Robin was gesturing to the third member of the party. ‘SIS.’

  Fratfield, looking almost as uncomfortable as Toby to be in such pompous company, reached out and shook their hands. ‘Bill Fratfield, Section K, I’m here to keep an eye on the foreign aspects of the matter.’

  ‘And what matter might that be?’ asked Shining, offering a look of utter innocence that Toby knew was as false as the majority of Sir Robin’s hair. ‘Perhaps the death of Sir James Lassiter?’

  Bill Fratfield smiled while Sir Robin and King exchanged uncomfortable glances. ‘You’ve heard?’ asked King.

  ‘I would hardly be worth my budget had I not,’ said Shining, grateful of the hour or so head start that had been offered to him by Sahni, the chief investigating officer on the case. ‘He was found dead on his kitchen floor this morning. The evidence suggests he slipped on the wet tile floor, hitting his head on the sideboard. Of course, the real mystery is why the floor – as well as the carpet throughout his hallway – was so wet in the first place. “Saturated” was, I believe, the word used by the chief CSO. There was no sign of a water leak, no natural explanation found for its presence.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ agreed King. ‘It is most curious.’

  ‘But hardly due cause to go running to Section 37,’ said Sir Robin, back-pedalling slightly when he saw the look on King’s face, ‘with all due respect.’

  ‘But then,’ continued Shining, ‘there is also the matter of Sir James’s personal assistant. Dead under the wheels of the 5.12 Northern Line train to High Barnet. I believe the platform was also unaccountably wet?’

  Toby smiled. He enjoyed watching his superior dance his little dance, so polite, so charming, so completely ahead of the game.

  ‘The video footage shows something even more strange,’ said Fratfield, reaching into his briefcase to pull out a data tablet.

  ‘All in good time,’ said King staring at Shining. ‘I really must ask how you came by this information so quickly.’

  ‘With respect, sir, we intelligence officers must be allowed to keep the sources of our information secret. If it helps, that’s all I know. I was meaning to investigate further when my colleague and I were called here.’

  ‘Then at least you haven’t heard about Leonard Holley,’ said King. ‘He died last night, too. Run over by his own car.’

  ‘Clumsy,’ said Shining. ‘Where have I heard that name before?’

  ‘He was part of the trade delegation run by Sir James,’ explained King, ‘working to improve business ties with South Korea.’

  ‘Ah,’ replied Shining, ‘that must be it.’ He looked to Toby who was always more well informed on matters of current politics. Toby was quick to jump in and prove his credentials.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘the much-vaunted new deals after President Geun-hye’s visit. I believe the plan is to double both foreign trade and direct investment between the UK and South Korea by 2020?’

  ‘It is,’ King agreed. ‘The UK will take all the business opportunities it can get right now and our South Korean friends are only too happy to establish stronger ties.’

  ‘Lovely people,’ said Shining. ‘Such a shame about their neighbours.’

  Fratfield smiled. ‘Exactly. I confess that’s why I’m here. We have no evidence linking North Korea to any of this but, well … it would seem that someone’s trying to damage the negotiations and …’

  ‘Occam’s Razor,’ agreed Shining. ‘The North are the most likely candidates.’

  ‘At this stage,’ said King, ‘the who is not so much the question as the how, that’s why I asked to meet with you. From what I can tell you have considerable experience with matters that fall outside the … ah … conventional.’

  ‘Indeed we do,’ Shining agreed. ‘When it comes to the impossible, we’re the department to call.’

  Sir Robin made a scoffing sound. ‘Improbable more like.’

  ‘I’m afraid,’ continued Shining, ‘this has marked us out for a quantity of cynicism amongst the more traditional offices of Whitehall.’

  ‘To say the very least,’ Sir Robin said, ‘the man’s a bloody menace.’

  ‘A menace that is sitting right next to you, Sir Robin,’ said Fratfield and Toby found himself warming to the man. He had no doubt the SIS officer had his own doubts about Section 37 but at least he had the sense of departmental honour not to express them to their faces.

  ‘With respect, Sir Robin,’ said King, ‘the decision isn’t yours. It is clear to the Secretary of State, and indeed myself, that the circumstances surrounding these deaths fall under Section 37’s purview and they will be added to the ongoing investigation. They will also advise on security moving forward. The new head of the delegation is quite insistent on that fact.’

  ‘And who would that be?’ Shining asked.

  ‘Me,’ King replied with a somewhat self-consci
ous smile. He looked to Fratfield. ‘Would you like to take over explaining the details?’

  ‘By all means.’ Fratfield pulled a pocket-projector out of his briefcase, connected it to his data tablet and drew the curtains. ‘I’ve included all the relevant information on here,’ he skimmed a USB drive across the table which Shining snatched up and dropped into his waistcoat pocket, ‘but it’s worth mentioning a few especially curious factors. As I mentioned earlier, there are some unsettling details to be found on the security camera footage from the Tube station.’

  He swiped his fingers across the screen of his tablet and a grainy shot of the platform at South Wimbledon appeared on the far wall. ‘Can everyone see that clearly?’ he asked, tinkering with the focus on the projector.

  ‘Oh, do get on with it,’ sighed Sir Robin.

  ‘Right,’ said Fratfield, clearly irritated.

  He started the footage and they watched as Sonia Finnegan took her seat on the platform, waiting for her train. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket and then flung it away before looking around in embarrassment and moving over to the platform edge in an attempt to retrieve it. Then she flinched, stood up and fell over. Fratfield paused the footage.

  ‘It’s hard to tell as the quality isn’t all that good, but this is the point when, well, the water appeared.’

  ‘Sprinkler system?’ Toby asked.

  ‘You would have thought so, but the fire alarm wasn’t engaged and all evidence points to the system having remained inactive.’

  ‘So where did the water come from?’ asked Shining.

  ‘If we knew that we would hardly be talking to you,’ said Sir Robin.

  ‘It gets stranger still,’ said Fratfield, resuming the footage.

  They watched as Sonia shouted at what appeared to be an empty platform. Then she moved further along and reached out towards thin air. As if trying to grab something that was suspended above the rails.

  ‘There’s nothing there,’ said King.

  ‘Nothing captured on film at least,’ qualified Shining. ‘That’s not necessarily the same thing.’

  Suddenly the train appeared. The whole room winced as Sonia Finnegan tumbled forwards, her body hitting the train.

  ‘Play that again,’ said Shining.

  ‘Do we have to?’ asked Sir Robin.

  ‘Just the moment when she’s leaning out over the tracks.’

  Fratfield did so, pausing the footage just before the collision.

  ‘She’s reaching out to somebody,’ said Shining. ‘It’s what overbalances her.’

  ‘Here we go,’ sighed Sir Robin.

  Fratfield played it again. ‘I see what you mean. But surely there’s nobody there?’

  Shining shrugged. ‘As I said before, nobody we can see. She certainly seems to believe there is. What about the mobile phone?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fratfield with a smile. ‘Curious, eh? Even more so when I tell you that a damaged mobile was found at the scene of the other deaths too. In all cases the phones were completely fried. Not a working circuit left in the things.’

  ‘Anything interesting on the call records?’ asked Toby.

  ‘In each case, there’s no record of any received calls or texts at the time of death, first thing I checked.’

  ‘And yet, Sonia clearly received one,’ said Shining. ‘She wasn’t just reaching in her pocket to check something, surely?’

  Fratfield rewound that portion of the footage. ‘Hard to tell for sure. She certainly acts like someone responding to an alert.’

  ‘You say Holley was run over by his own car?’ asked Toby.

  Fratfield nodded. ‘Sounds absurd I know. He and his wife had been in New York for two days, flew in last night. Rather than stay in a hotel, they were driving from Gatwick to their home in Weedon, little place just outside Aylesbury. Presumably, Holley had things he wanted to do at home before travelling back into London the following morning.

  ‘Unfortunately, his wife has yet to regain consciousness otherwise we would know considerably more than we do. She was in the car when it apparently lost control at the top of a hill.’

  Fratfield projected a couple of colour stills of the crash site on the wall.

  ‘For some reason, Holley had exited the car and started to walk down the hill.’

  ‘Probably a bloody argument,’ said Sir Robin. ‘The pair of them were always taking potshots at one another.’

  ‘I doubt he would have got so cross he decided to walk home,’ commented Fratfield. ‘They were still thirty miles away.

  ‘Holley leaves the car,’ he continued, ‘and walks down the hill, at which point the car’s brakes fail and it rolls after him. Holley is lying on the road by the time the car hits him otherwise he might have survived.’

  ‘He was lying down?’ asked Shining.

  ‘Best guess is that he turned to see the car, lost his footing in the wet—’

  ‘Ah … the wet …’

  ‘Indeed, and then the car ran over him. It eventually collided with a tree, hence Mrs Holley is still in intensive care. She was thrown from the vehicle on impact and has suffered severe cranial injury.’

  ‘Do we know for a fact that the brakes failed?’ asked Toby. ‘Is it possible she did it on purpose?’

  ‘That had occurred to the investigation team, though given the effect the accident had on her they’re inclined to dismiss her involvement. There is no actual evidence of damage to the brakes.’

  ‘Just because she was hurt doesn’t mean she wasn’t the instigator,’ said Shining. ‘She may have taken what seemed a golden opportunity to dispose of her husband, not realising the trap she was springing would close on them both.’

  Fratfield shrugged. ‘It’s a possibility, certainly. But the damaged mobile and the rain would suggest it’s linked to the other two deaths rather than just a spontaneous act of murder.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Shining, ‘the rain. You said the ground was wet.’

  ‘Absolutely. Obviously, it’s harder to be so precise given the accident happened in the open but there was no rain reported in the area last night. That specific area appears … what was the word you used?’ He looked to Shining. ‘“Saturated”, exactly that.’

  ‘It’s all most bizarre,’ said King.

  Sir Robin remained silent.

  Shining looked at the photo for a few seconds longer then nodded. ‘Bizarre indeed. So what’s the plan moving forward?’

  ‘I’m taking over from Sir James,’ said King. ‘Though talks have been delayed for today, the Secretary of State is determined to get back on schedule. We are due to meet with the South Korean contingent tomorrow. In an attempt to increase security, both delegations have agreed to relocate discussions to a place called Lufford Hall, a stately pile in Warwickshire that we like to fall back on occasionally. The hope is that, with all of us under the same roof, security can be more easily handled.’

  Shining nodded. ‘Though an expression involving eggs and baskets also springs to mind.’

  ‘If that’s the case,’ said Fratfield, ‘then we’ll be jumping into the basket too. As well as the trade delegation, there will be a number of security officers in attendance. Details are on the memory stick.’

  Shining patted at his pocket. ‘I shall review them with interest. The first obvious suggestion would be to ban all mobile phones.’

  ‘Naturally,’ said King, ‘though I can’t tell you how much GCHQ kicked up a fuss at that.’

  ‘Of course they did,’ said Fratfield. ‘They’ll have been gleefully bugging them all.’

  ‘Other than that,’ said Shining, ‘I’d have to look into it a little more before offering any suggestions.’

  ‘There’s a surprise,’ said Sir Robin. ‘Told you it would be a waste of time.’

  ‘Tell me, Sir Robin,’ asked Shining with an innocent smile, ‘will you be attending the summit at Lufford Hall?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Sir Robin replied. ‘I have more than enough to contend with.’
/>
  ‘What a shame,’ Shining continued. ‘Still,’ he looked at King, ‘at least you can be assured that I will be doing all I can to ensure the safety of those who are.’

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE AUDITION

  a) Regent Street, London

  The briefing dragged on for another half an hour or so, as things descended into laborious agreements over departmental minutiae. It often seemed to Toby that the biggest enemy in Intelligence was organisation, the constant battle between sections as to who held responsibility for what. Unsurprisingly, nobody was quite ready for Section 37 to be anything more than an adjunct to the whole affair. He and Shining were to be advisers, allowed to pursue their own line of investigation and offer suggestions as to security matters at Lufford Hall. It was clear, however, that King, reserved the right to dismiss whatever suggestions they might offer.

  Toby found it hard not to be a little insulted, but Shining didn’t care.

  ‘Just knowing that I brought Sir Robin’s ulcers one step closer to erupting is joy enough,’ he said as they walked along Regent Street.

  ‘That certainly helped,’ Toby admitted.

  ‘You know what they’re like,’ said Shining, pausing to look at a shirt in the window of Hawes and Curtis, ‘it’s a wonder they wanted to talk to us at all. Anyway, we’re not in this to further our egos, we’re here to save lives.’

  ‘I know,’ Toby agreed, ‘but a little pandering to the ego wouldn’t hurt.’

  Shining smiled. ‘You don’t need their validation, to hell with them, look at how far you’ve come in less than a year. Remember what you were like when you first appeared on my doorstep?’

  Toby nodded, he had been at his lowest ebb at that point. Crippled by PTSD and panic attacks, uncertain of his place in the world, let alone the service. He had been sent to Section 37 as a punishment, a way of killing his career stone dead. In actuality, it had been the making of him.