Accountancy Can Be Deadly Part 4

First posted here in 2014, this story had only been available on Kindle since 2017.

 
Money, Money, Money
 
After the revelation that she was now cleared to work at one of highest government security levels, Gail struggled to achieve much more work on the financial data. She only cross-checked one address but discovered a repeat of dealings with Bader Logistik Dusseldorf GmbH.
This was all very surreal, she thought, she was virtually an employee of the infamous MI5.

Gail was very relieved when Lisa, the maid, popped her head into the library after knocking gently.

"Dinner is in 45 minutes, Miss." "Thank you Lisa."

Gail shut down the laptop and left the library, the first stop was her room.

***

Diane was missing at dinner time, but Helen clearly wanted to talk to Gail that evening, so there was no surprise when Helen picked up the half empty bottle of Cabernet Shiraz.

"Grab, your glass and come with me." They walked to the drawing room.

"How are you today, Gail?"

"Fine, but I wasn't expecting the security talk, almost like the Spanish Inquisition at times."

"Ah, no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition*!"

They laughed, Gail having inadvertently caused a Monty Python moment. Maybe a dead parrot next time?

"Never mind, you won't see him again unless you do something naughty, in which case the thumb-screws will be deployed."

"Hopefully that won't be necessary!"

"Right, first task is for me to take your photo. Can you stand behind the door, that should be a clean enough canvas."

Helen took several head and shoulder shots, from a variety of angles, plus some full length ones. Next she pulled a small pad from a bag.

"I'll use those photos for your new ID. I also need to take your fingerprints."

"Why?"

"Two reasons, the police need to have your prints to eliminate you formally from the murder enquiries, plus we need them on file. It's a policy. Firstly with ink and then the modern method."

Helen took Gail's hands, one finger at a time and rolled them on the ink pad and then on a form. This took several minutes and left Gail with ten black digits, Helen handed her a few wet wipes.

“Clean yourself off then was thoroughly in the bathroom. We'll finish this when you get back.”

The ink pad had been cleared away when she returned and it looked like the area had been polished. Gail was worried that she'd taken ages, but Helen wasn't concerned.

“That ink is a pig to remove off skin, thankfully the electronic version is a lot quicker and cleaner.”

Finally Helen was finished, she picked up a pack of papers.

"I'd like to bring you up to date with the investigation and have a request." Gail nodded. "Firstly, the German company you identified is proving to be most interesting. The two Germans arrested yesterday both worked for that company but were also wanted in Germany on European Arrest Warrants. Those may have to wait, however, as we've identified them both near your flat on Saturday morning, at the time Hamed Fourani was murdered."

"Oh!"

"They weren't too clever with technology it seems and had done a Google Maps search for your address on their phones, plus plotted a route there. They deny it too, but there were traces of petrol on their boots that they can't explain."

"So no quick flight back to Germany?"

"It's more interesting than that, it seems they are also involved with the murder of Hamiz Fourani and flew into Stansted on Saturday morning. So the Bundespolizei are looking at a joint investigation."

"Bundespolizei?"

"The German Federal Police. They've raided the Düsseldorf company you identified and have detained a grand-daughter of one of the original Baader-Meinhof gang. They are really pleased with the info from you, although your work is under a codename now."

"Codename?"

"Yes, but I couldn't tell you what it is, even if I knew."

"Security, eh?"

"Yes. Onto other matters - I've informed Companies House that your business has been wound up. Your business bank accounts, plus David's personal account have been closed and all the automated payments have been stopped. My office will handle any remaining charges on your office and bedsit, although I suspect there's some advance charges due to come back from the utility companies."

"Thanks."

"That's okay, all part of the service. Now, let's go shopping."

That meant a move into the library where Gail powered up her laptop and accessed several websites for the major stores, just making a note of the item code, plus size and colour, passing this information to Helen. It wasn't going to be a swift process but at least she could improve her wardrobe.

Gail figured, by the time she'd finished, that she'd spent over £800.

"Don't worry about that, it would be covered from what was in those accounts. As it is, I have an outline agreement to settle your insurance claim for the flat. I explained you didn't want them to replace any of your belongings as it might be sometime before you're in a position to move back in anywhere, so far as they're all concerned you're taking an extended holiday out of the country to get over the stress. They weren't happy but we've agreed a cash figure of £12,500, it should be paid into my account by Friday.

"I also had your landlord pay back the rent deposit of £2000, he wanted to argue that you'd forfeited it but I pointed out it wasn't your fault the flat was virtually destroyed. His own insurance will have to pay for that to be fixed, although I hear he'll just sell the site to a developer for a tidy profit. Finally, we have an offer on the office and bedsit of £250,000. If all goes well, that could complete next week or perhaps the week after that. So, you see, you can easily afford this shopping!"

Gail couldn't remember ever having this amount of money before, and this was without considering the £2,500 monthly allowance from the Security Service. How much was tax free she wondered? At least, as an accountant, she knew how to claim tax back so she could fund another shopping trip?

Helen got up to leave, but Gail had one nagging question. "How are you able to spend this much time on me, Helen?"

"I only take on one case at a time, so you are my sole concern at the moment."

Diane put her head into the library as Gail was closing down her laptop. "Hi Gail."

"Where have you been, Diane?"

"Sorry, I was a bit late for dinner, I've been in debrief all afternoon. They took me to Paddington Green high security police station for interview and to formally identify the two who grabbed me. Fancy a chat in the lounge?"

"No, sorry but I'm tired. It's been a full-on day for me as well. Are we still on for a swim at seven?"

"Sure."

Diane headed up to her own room with Gail a few steps behind.

 
Close Protection
 
Someone must have known about the plan to have a swim before breakfast, not surprising really in a Security Service building, as a telephone in her room rang at 0645 on Thursday morning. Gail opened her eyes and found the phone next to her bed, when was that installed?

"Good morning, Miss, I'm told you needed an alarm call?"

"Thank you, Lisa. What time is it?"

"A quarter to seven, Miss."

Gail appeared outside her room immediately after Diane ventured out of hers. They talked whilst heading down to the pool.

"Good morning Gail, isn't that a different swimsuit?"

"I was surprised to see it, as I'd left yesterday's in the bathroom after rinsing it. I did struggle a little getting into it though."

"I bet you've never worn a one-piece swimsuit or even a leotard before?"

"Definitely not, I suppose there's a first for everything!"

Their swim was a gentle twenty minutes long, finished with 5 minutes in the steam room. Then back to their rooms to shower and dress for the day.

After breakfast, Gail wondered what was on the agenda for the day, although she did plan to spend some more time on the Fourani accounts in order to tackle the rest of 2006/07. First, however, she wanted to have a quick read of The Guardian newspaper which was waiting for her in the dining room. She walked towards the conservatory.

"Gail?"

"Yes Diane."

"I have my nail kit here, and I had promised to put some acrylics on to lengthen and strengthen your nails a little. Do you have time now?"

"I suppose so."

"Bring your paper, you'll have plenty of time to read it."

They went to Diane's room and Gail sat on the bed whilst Diane pulled up a chair and a small table.

"Here we go."

Thirty minutes later it was done; Diane had added white tips to the mid-pink artificial nails. She put the nail kit away and Gail got ready to stand.

"Stay where you are, there's a couple of things more that I'd like to do. Firstly, you don't have your ears pierced? I guess you didn't want David to have anything in his ears?"

"No, it was fear of being detected."

"Well, right now the reverse is true, without earrings a woman might look twice at you and a bit closer too. Just that little clue could give you away."

"Okay, I get the point!"

Diane reached down and pulled out an ear-piercing gun and loaded a cartridge, "These are 5mm studs and you'll have to keep them in for a few weeks before you can change them for hoops or different studs."

She then reached over and did Gail's left ear, reloaded and did the right ear.

"You didn't warn me about the sting!"

"Most girls don't object, mind you they tend to get their first holes when they're around 10 or 11 years old"

"First?"

"Yes, often teenagers go for a second set. Now, let me tell you about cleaning them, especially after you've been in the pool."

Suitably advised, Diane handed Gail a bottle of cleaning liquid and a bag of cotton-wool pads.

"You said there was something else?"

Yes, I want to give you a lesson in make-up, particularly the 'less is more' principle."

A phone rang before Gail could reply, Diane answered it. "Hello? Yes she is. Okay, I'll send her down."

Putting the handset on the cradle, Diane explained the call.

"That was Jenny, DS Keane has arrived and would like to see you."

"Can we continue this later?"

"Yes, it looks like I'll be here until after the weekend."

Gail met Emily Keane in the library. "Good morning Gail, I'd like to bring you up to speed with the investigations. Some of Fourani's better educated employees who we found in his warehouses have told us that the Fourani brothers had not got on for a few years and that Hamiz wouldn't let his brother see the bank accounts. Hamed went to your flat, expecting to find you there on a Saturday morning, in order to persuade you to hand over the data. I suspect he was looking for the paperwork but you say you didn't have any?"

"That's right, after I scanned everything I returned it. That way I only held it for a few days. Even then, I scanned everything in my office and kept the paperwork in a locked document box; I never took any of the paper documents home."

"It seems that whilst Hamed was searching your flat, he was surprised by the two Germans. They were also after evidence that Hamiz had short-changed them and figured that you, again, could supply the information."

"I wonder how they got my address?"

"We're not certain but I bet you were listed in the phone book?"

"Yes, I won't make that mistake again!"

"Anyway, one of the Germans tells us that Hamed pulled a gun on them when they entered your flat, but it didn't fire. They attacked him, got the weapon from him and shot him with his own weapon. One of them then went to a petrol station and bought a gallon of petrol, we have CCTV of that, they torched your place to destroy the evidence. So, we have them on murder and arson; that's at least 20 years in Belmarsh Prison."

"Good grief. What about Hamiz's murder?"

"The German authorities are still investigating, we'll have a report in a few days."

"Okay. Any information on the leak at the safe-house," she laughed, "unsafe-house?!"

"Yes, one of the protection officers seems to have had a large deposit in his bank account this week, he's looking at a very uncomfortable few years away and no pension when he gets back out."

"Oh. Could that happen here?"

"No. One of the problems we had at the safe-house was the speed at which we needed it, some of our usual officers were on leave or other duties and weren't available. Therefore we used some regular firearms trained officers, including two from a neighbouring force. We have the full complement of our usual officers here."

"I see. How much longer will I need to stay here?"

"Until we're certain that anyone who had knowledge of you has been detained or neutralized. We still have a few people trying to locate you."

"How likely is that?"

"Not very but I think Helen can give you a better answer."

Emily got up to leave, "remember Gail, you are invaluable to these investigations, especially the counter-terrorism angle, therefore protecting you is paramount."

Emily left the room whilst Gail sat there and pondered her words, turning them upside down. What if Gail's evidence wasn't that important, would they have just left her? She started to sob. Emily had left the library door open and Gail's quiet sobs could just be heard in the corridor; Jenny was the first to pass by.

"Come on Gail, I don't know what the problem is but we can help." She sat beside Gail and put her arm around the tearful woman, offering a tissue from a nearby box.

Oh, she was no longer Miss Jones. "I'm scared."

"Don't be, we're all here to protect you."

"But look what happened a few days ago."

"That was unfortunate but we had procedures in place to deal with it and neither you nor any of our people were hurt. The fact that you're now here underlines that we need to take care of you and that you, in return, can assist us a great deal. It's a two-way street. Now, go to your room, sort out your make-up and I'll arrange some coffee and chocolate biscuits in the conservatory."

 
Eye Spy
 

It was just gone eleven o'clock when Gail arrived in the conservatory, finding a stranger in there.

"Hi Gail, nice nails! Anyway, I'm Cloe Gardner and I'm the in-house optician."

She was confused how this stranger knew her, but responded despite her concerns, "Good morning Cloe."

"Okay Gail. I've been asked by Helen to see you about your eyesight and your image. When was the last time your eyes were checked?"

"Several years ago, I'd stopped getting reminders."

"Have you ever worn glasses?"

"No, except in the summer if I went away, which wasn't often. I would usually pick up a pair of really cheap tinted glasses from a discount store."

"I've set-up some equipment in the medical room upstairs and I'd like to do a full evaluation. You do know that several conditions such as high blood pressure and diabetes can be detected through eye examinations?"

"I'd heard that."

"Does your family have any history of glaucoma?"

"Not that I know."

Lisa arrived with coffee and biscuits before Cloe had a chance to drag Gail out of the conservatory. Cloe tried to tease some of Gail's history out of her, but mindful of the security warnings the previous day, Gail wasn't saying much.

With the coffee finished, and Gail suitably freshened, she followed Cloe's directions to the medical room. Half an hour later Cloe had completed her intense examination.

"How often are you using a computer?"

"Several hours a day, every day."

"Well, it seems to have taken its' toll on your eyes. You're long-sighted and definitely need correction. I have a small selection of frames here that you can choose from, plus a catalogue with a few hundred others. With your face, I wouldn't go for a very small frame or conversely a large one."

Gail started her search, not entirely convinced she needed glasses.

"If we don't do something now, your eyes will get progressively worse as the eye muscles try to do the correction themselves, that is not good for you!"

"Okay, okay."

"What I propose is that I'll order varifocal lens so you can work from a laptop screen or a projector screen and not have to remove the glasses for distance work. I'll add a photo-chromic coating to the order as well."

Gail finished her search, holding a frame in her hand.

"Let's see what it looks like."

Cloe had Gail pop the sample frames on, "yes, they'll be fine. I'll get back to the office and place the order, expect to see me again after the weekend."

"Okay, thanks."

Gail found herself downstairs and with half an hour of spare time before lunch. She went back up to her room, put on a cardigan and switched her usual slippers for some sandals before heading out into the grounds.

The sandals were wise, but with hindsight boots may have been better. It had rained overnight and the grass was very damp, although the paths were drying well. She decided to walk around to the front of the house and alongside the main avenue towards the front gate. At first she couldn't see any of the grounds staff, then two quad bikes raced towards her. One of the riders spoke to her.

"Miss Jones, could I suggest you head back to the house? I can give you a lift there."

"I was just looking down the avenue."

"I strongly advise against that." He paused a second and it appeared he was getting a radio message. "Ah, I'm told lunch is in 10 minutes, let me give you transport back to the conservatory."

"If you insist." Gail was resigned to this, although it did seem to mean that she did not have full freedom of movement within the grounds. She accepted the invite onto the passenger seat of the nearest quad bike and resolved to question what had just happened.

***

After lunch Jenny asked to speak to Gail alone.

"That was rather silly, and dangerous."

"Why? All I did was go around the front."

"Even so, your security, the security of this location was at risk."

"How come?"

"Oh, did we forget to give you the site briefing?"

"What's a site briefing?"

Ten minutes later, and with the aid of a map, Gail had a better idea of the building and its' grounds. There were areas marked on the map, zones, which denoted where there was a greater than 10% risk of being observed from helicopters, drones or satellites. The rear of the house was covered in evergreens, with only the lake exposed, and was considered much safer.

Gail could also now see the location of the underground garage and covered access, which explained how she'd been brought into the house on Tuesday morning, as well as a fitness room, attached to the main building.

"Right, I understand now, although having a pair of quad bikes heading towards me wasn't fun." She pointed at the map, "I didn't know about the the fitness room, could I go there later?"

"We'll sort something out for you. Now, Dr Hughes will be here shortly and wants to review the results of your medical examination."

"I'll be in my room."

Gail reached her room, kicked off the sandals, then flopped onto the bed. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep.

***

"Gail, Gail, wake-up!"

Gail stirred, but was confused. Her eyes opened but all she could see was a blur.

"Gail, come on. Can you sit up?"

She was lying on top of the duvet and shuffled up the bed as a couple of pillows were repositioned.

"Right, the doctor is going to check your blood pressure, stay still."

Gail finally identified the voice as Jenny's but wasn't going to argue, nor had the energy to move any further. The result of the BP check took only a minute.

"Jenny, call an ambulance."

 
Vixen
 

Gail regained conciousness but had no idea what the time was, or even if it was still Thursday. She was wearing an oxygen mask and had one of those machines next to her that go "beep" every second or so. From her horizontal position she could see very little of the room, but guessed enough to realise she wasn't at the house. She was shifting her head around, causing the oxygen line to move around, it didn't take long for someone to notice.

"Gail? Are you awake?"

"Hmmmm ymmy."

A nurse reached over and moved the mask off her face.

"Better?"

"Thanks. Where am I?"

"You're in the Northwick Park Hospital."

"London?"

"North West London, near Harrow."

"Okay. Now, why am I here?"

"You collapsed, but I'm not allowed to say much. Plus, they won't explain why there's an armed guard outside your room."

There was a cough behind her and the nurse was invited to leave the room, suddenly realising how her last comment sounded. Jenny escorted her out, whilst Dr Hughes came in.

"Now, Gail. Was all this just so you could avoid a chat with me back at the house?"

"What?"

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the atmosphere in here. How do you feel?"

"Light headed, and my eyes aren't working properly."

"Okay, let me back-track a bit. When I examined you on Monday, your blood pressure was a little low, but not dangerously. There were some other issues, but they were less pressing, although connected. When you collapsed today at the house, your BP had dropped alarmingly so you were brought here."

"And now?"

"It's still a little low, but with intervention it will be back to near normal by tomorrow, your eyesight is a symptom of the low BP. However, that's no longer the main concern."

"So what is?"

"You appear to have started the male menopause, the andropause, some twenty to thirty years early, your hormone levels are haywire and your testosterone level is almost non-existent. We did a biopsy of one of your testes and are pretty sure it's dying."

"So what does that mean?"

"Well, fathering children is now out of the question, but without the correct hormone balance you will suffer from a range of seemingly unconnected problems, including low blood pressure and mood swings."

"What can you do?"

"Until we're certain of your long-term intentions, that's something I can't answer. However, I would like to operate tomorrow to perform a bilateral orchidectomy."

"Bilateral what?"

"Remove your testes."

"Oh balls!"

"Quite. Try to get some rest."

Gail dozed for a few hours. Her eyes seemed better when she woke next, she could see the window on the far wall and the orange glow from street lighting. Now she realised there was a cannula in her left hand attached to a drip, using her free hand she rubbed both eyes, then explored her circumstances a little further.

Gail was dressed in one of her nighties, but she felt a tube running from her groin. A little probing confirmed a catheter. Further up her left arm was a strap and a small pack. As she probed it, the strap inflated into a cuff and then deflated, twice.

A nurse came into the room a few minutes later as Gail was lying there, trying to remember everything Dr Hughes had said.

"Ah, good evening Gail. I'm Vikki and I'm on duty until the morning."

"Hi Vikki, what time is it?"

"Ten pm." Vikki reached over to check the various pieces of monitoring equipment, "very nice, soon have you back on your feet."

"Can you remove this?" Gail pointed at her groin.

"Do you mean the catheter? Not yet, you'd fall over if you got out of bed for a wee. Anyway, now you're awake I'll get you some soup."

Gail wasn't asked whether she was hungry or not, typical hospitals! Question was, just how bad would this be?

The soup arrived ten minutes later, in a sealed drinking vessel with a large straw. "So you don't spill it, let's have you sit up a bit more, to make you more comfortable."

To be honest, the soup wasn't too bad, it actually had flavour and didn't taste of sawdust mixed with lukewarm water. So, she was probably in a private room. The NHS did emergency care really well, world class, but often failed in the hospitality stakes. That was rather ironic really, as it was the NHS accountants who were squeezing the pennies out of the budget.

Gail had finished her soup and was given a fresh bottle of water to sip. Vikki made very little effort to chat with Gail, probably due to an interesting chat with a plain clothed armed officer; not your typical hospital arrangement. Gail laid there, not fatigued but bored.

The automatic BP cuff inflated every 30 minutes, irritatingly just as Gail thought she could nod off. What she did find strange was the near complete lack of noise from outside her room, the only time Gail had been in hospital previously, every noise known to humanity could happen during an average overnight stay, no peace for the wicked, or the sick, indeed.

Eventually, Gail drifted into R.E.M. sleep and started dreaming. She was taken back to the time, when she was twelve, that her arm had been broken whilst at school by one of the bullies, purely accidental the school had said. Gail had been taken by ambulance on that occasion to the London Hospital, in London's East End. Whilst the injury concerned David, who was kept overnight on an adult male ward for reasons unspecified, the dream showed Gail at school, and Gail in the hospital. She woke up in a sweat as Gail, in the dream, had found herself on that same adult male ward.

She opened her eyes and confirmed she was indeed in a room by herself. Clearly her dreaming must have accelerated her heart rate and Vikki came into the room.

"Good morning, now what's happened to your pulse?" It was rhetorical, Gail guessed, so just tried to shrug, badly.

"Now, I'm off in a few minutes and Jules will your morning nurse, you'll like her. I'll order some breakfast for you, tea, yoghurt, cereal?"

"Yes, thanks."

Breakfast was delivered some 20 minutes later by a nurse who breezed in, and out, in the space of a few seconds. By the time she returned, Gail had finished the reduced calorie offering. This time she was carrying the day's Guardian, dropping it on a chair.

"Good morning, I'm Jules. Right, let's get you cleaned up." She cleared away the waste and used wipes to clean Gail's face and hands.

"Can I have the catheter removed?" Gail again pointed towards her groin.

"As soon as the doctor agrees, he'll be round by nine."

"Can I sit right up, then?"

"Well, your blood pressure seems to have settled, if you get light-headed at all then we'll have to lie you back down, okay?"

Jules helped Gail shuffle up the bed, having hit a button to tilt the head of the bed up. Before she left the room she handed Gail the newspaper.

Gail hadn't got very far into the news when the door opened and Dr Fox, the shrink, walked into the room.

"Hello again Gail, this is a surprise."

"I wouldn't call it a surprise."

"Bad choice of words, then." She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Gail, "mind if I continue where we left off on Monday?"

"Doesn't look like I'm due in a meeting in the next half hour."

"Ha ha. Now, it's not been a full week since you adopted Gail full-time, so how are you doing?"

"Fine, my name has been changed and I'm busy deleting David from my life."

"Oh, is that a little drastic?"

"Not when there's a contract out on David's life."

"I see, so this is reactionary and not thought through properly?"

"No, there's a plan, but I'm afraid you're not cleared for it."

"We'll see about that."

Gail exercised her lungs, "Guard?"

The door opened immediately and a man quickly assessed the situation. "Yes, Miss Jones?"

"The doctor is just leaving, ensure she doesn't return."

"Certainly, Miss. Dr Fox, I believe you're no longer wanted."

"I am cleared for the Met Police and I won't be treated like that, I also have a clinic in this hospital."

"That's as may be, madam, but this is not a Police matter any more so your complaints are groundless. Now, either leave or my two colleagues will assist you."

Two proto-Neanderthals, carrying sub-machine guns, had appeared in the corner of the room. Dr Fox reluctantly moved towards the doorway.

"You've not seen the last of me!" Unfortunately she apparently misjudged her feet because she ended up spread-eagle in the corridor.