The Secret

Tally had now set off back to Leicester. She’d let the evening rush hour pass before saying good-bye with an attempt at being cheerfully philosophical about what she feared would turn out be failure. There had been an underlying despondency about her however, that Steven had found infectious. He poured himself a drink and slumped down in his favourite chair to put his heels up on the window sill. Feeling that she’d enough to worry about, he hadn’t mentioned to Tally that he himself had a reason for feeling low. John Macmillan had returned from lunch with the news that Charlie Malloy had dismissed their plan out of hand. ‘Plain, bloody lunacy,’ he’d called it.

Steven had to smile as he couldn’t help but see the funny side of it. It had been his idea and Malloy was probably right but Macmillan had been the one to suffer the brunt of the policeman’s attack on the ‘bloody madness’ of expecting the Met to plant porn on university computers in order to hand them over for examination. What was he thinking of? Macmillan had confessed to feeling like a naughty schoolboy being dressed down in the headmaster’s study by the time Malloy was finished. The thought of silver-haired mandarin, John Macmillan, standing with head bowed, nervously examining his shoes while biting his lip brought another smile from Steven and a slight shake of the head.

So where do we go from here? he pondered. He still hadn’t heard anything back from Liam so he had to assume that the boy had drawn a complete blank in trying to locate the disk. Another possible avenue had closed. He made a mental note to contact Liam on Friday to arrange a meeting. Maybe searching through Hausman’s stuff in the middle of the night really was becoming the only option — another depressing thought.

He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels looking for diversion. A documentary on fishing failed to excite, similarly, a programme on house renovation. A few seconds of an ‘alternative’ comedian only made him realise how much he missed Morecambe and Wise. Maybe it was the way he was feeling but nothing appealed for more than half a minute. Conceding defeat before his thumb grew tired, he made coffee and put Stan Getz on the stereo instead, only to find that Jazz Samba seemed totally at odds with the sound of rain battering on his window. He waited up until he’d heard from Tally that she was home safe before turning in.

Steven’s hopes of a good night’s sleep to put an end to his day of frustration and disappointment and set him up for the challenges of a brand new dawn proved elusive. He tossed and turned as elements of both his investigative and personal life swirled around in the margins between sleep and consciousness like pieces in a weightless jigsaw, all stubbornly refusing to click into any cohesive picture. It was almost a relief when his phone insisted he wake up at 3 a.m. It was John Macmillan.

‘I’ve just had Charlie Malloy on the phone. Two bodies have been discovered by night security at City College.’

Steven was suddenly very wide awake. Knowing that he wasn’t going to like the answer, he asked, ‘Do we know who?’

‘Dan Hausman and Liam Kelly.’

Steven felt a tsunami of conflicting emotions engulf him. ‘Oh Christ,’ he murmured. He was already playing out a scenario where Liam had taken matters into his own hands to investigate Hausman and had been caught in the act. Somehow, in the resulting altercation, both men had died.

Macmillan wiped out the imagined scenario. ‘Both were shot. Charlie thinks a pro job, back of the head.’

Steven was attempting to think up a new scenario when a sudden thought diverted him and he asked, ‘Why did Charlie call you?’

‘Because he’s a nice man,’ replied Macmillan. ‘He saw the opportunity to help us out despite his earlier misgivings about our sanity. His boys will remove every bit of computer equipment they can lay their hands on, ostensibly as part of their murder investigation. They’re doing that right now. He said he’s got a feeling that official shutters are going to come down on these killings as soon as MI5 and their pals get their act together. Charlie will let us know where and when we can access the computers just as soon as he can. I’ll see about calling in a couple of our consultants. I take it you’ll make yourself available to brief them on what they’re looking for?’

‘Of course,’ said Steven. He recognised that this was a big step forward but Liam Kelly’s death was stopping him sounding enthusiastic. ‘It had to be Khan,’ he said. He was trying to think clearly and logically but thoughts of Liam kept intruding. Liam was little more than a boy, a bright student at the very outset of his career with everything to live for and now he was dead... thanks to him. The accusation was loud and clear. If he hadn’t approached Liam, none of this would have happened. Live with that Dunbar, if you can.