UG3 Diminishing Returns   Chapter 08     Nuclear Options

 

On Saturday Sophie suggested they went further afield for the day, perhaps West to Penzance or East to Plymouth, but Heather wasn’t having it.

“No, there’ll be just another prick who will spoil the day. I’ll go and catch up with some work, it’ll take my mind off everything.”

Her emails included responses from the previous afternoon that showed an NHS record for Bernice Hollande, as well as a National Insurance number. The address given for both data records was 25 Tudor Road, Newbury RG14 7PU. She checked on maps and found it was a simple semi-detached house in a quiet lane but close to major roads and the mainline railway station.

Her National Insurance account reported that she was a self-employed person and was paying minimal NI contributions but hadn’t been required by the taxman to submit any accounts as yet. That much told Heather that this was an identity that was becoming well established, a ‘legend’ in certain circles had been created, but it was still a young identity.

The National Health record gave the same bio information but added that she had been prescribed the contraceptive pill Microgynon a few months earlier. A little research by Heather established that this pill could also used for HRT, although it wasn’t prescribed regularly for that purpose.

Heather went a little further down her emails and found a response to her enquiry about Hollande’s Belgian identity – Beatrice Hollande had died whilst an infant.

Heather thumped the desk. “Yes!”

She wrote up her findings but pondered when it came to considering what action to take next. Was she certain that Hollande was really, formerly, the Cypriot Dēmētríou; had she fully established that? Or even that Dēmētríou was actually Russian? It would likely be a problem for many of the intelligence community to accept the theory, but then most didn’t know about Heather’s background.

Her mobile rang, with a secure call.

“Heather, I’m down in Mevagissey and I’ve just seen that red Fiesta, KKE289L.”

“You’re sure, Sophie?”

“Yes, it was in the harbour when I arrived but left soon after. I’m on my way to my car now.”

“Well, are you going to get it stopped?”

“I’ll have to put that through Emily’s unit, somehow I don’t think Devon and Cornwall will accept my request?”

“Well, there’s only the A30 and the A38, or the ferry to St Marys.”

“I know. Bye.”

Part of Heather wanted to drive up to the A30 and start towards Mevagissey looking for the vehicle, but this was so far outside her training; she was firstly an accountant and secondly an intelligence gatherer and analyst. It was best to leave the task of stopping the car to the professionals.

She went into the Tesco website and booked a delivery for Monday morning before heading down to the kitchen to make lunch. She’d finished her sandwich and sat in the garden, enjoying a few rays, when her phone rang.

“I’m at Liskeard, we stopped it.”

“I sense a ‘but’, Sophie?”

“The driver is a nineteen year old student, he says he bought it a couple of days ago.”

“Genuine?”

“I’m told he turned white when the armed response unit stopped him, the car will need a clean too.”

“Okay, are you done?”

“No, we’ll take the car to Plymouth to search it, in case it’s been used for drug importation. The boy’s under arrest until we are satisfied he’s an innocent.”

“Okay.” Heather guessed that would mean Sophie wouldn’t be back until late, very late. She went back into the kitchen and started to fill the slow cooker with whatever was to hand.

Heather had swum in a women’s swim suit many times before, but that had mostly been in the private pool at the Hertfordshire house used by the Security Service. She was having second thoughts as she changed ready for her GP-ordered aerobics session at the Carn Brea leisure centre.

“Good morning ladies, I can see that we have a few new members joining us today, welcome. Apologies but the music system is broken so we’ll have to do this without.”

The instructor had the group on matting beside the pool for a warm up and stretching session, although it was clear that Heather couldn’t do some of the movements. They broke after fifteen minutes.

“I noticed you were having difficulty?”

“I haven’t done exercising like that since I was at school.”

“What’s your work?”

“I’m an accountant.”

“So feet under your desk all day?”

“More or less.”

“It’ll get easier, we’ll have you doing the splits in no time!”

Heather looked alarmed. “Err, no.”

“Oh, sorry, it’s just a joke. This isn’t a gymnastic class.”

They did another few stretches then one at a time dived into the water. When they were all treading water, the session continued.

The instructor stopped Heather as everyone was leaving the pool.

“Sorry about that, earlier.”

“My GP suggested I took this class, but I don’t remember her telling me that physical harm was a part of the treatment?”

“To be honest, half of the people in this session don’t need to be here, they’re fit and supple with excellent breathing and stamina. Of the rest many want to lose weight and have an idea they’ll do that by just being here, but this is only one aspect of weight control. As for you, Heather, you’re perhaps a little under weight and definitely unfit. Have you been ill recently?”

“I spent a few days in Treliske hospital with a virus. I’m recovered, otherwise I doubt I would be here?”

“Well, I think we can help you develop better lung capacity, improve your stamina and maybe convert a little fat into muscle. You need to eat healthily too. Consider using herbal and mineral supplements too.”

“I ‘ll look at them, my GP has me on iron tablets.”

”I see. Anyway, will I see you next Monday?”

“I hope so.”

By the time she was showered and dressed it was gone half past ten. Heather drove back into Redruth, getting caught in traffic. She pulled into the street to see the Tesco driver knocking on her door. She left the car in the road and ran towards the delivery driver with her keys.

“I’m here!”

“Sorry Miss Young, I’m a bit early.”

She unlocked the door and reached for the security panel to disable the alarm as the driver unloaded her shopping onto the lounge floor .

Half an hour later she had everything put away, her swimsuit and towel were in the washing machine, but she added the rest of her clothes before padding upstairs to shower again.

There were six missed calls on her mobile, including duplicates, when she next looked at it. In the office she could hear the secure phone ringing but she wasn’t decent and definitely wouldn’t give the CCTV operators at the Security Service a cheap thrill; she threw a frock over herself, brushed her hair out and applied a little lippy. Finally she made it into the office, the clock ticked past midday. She was opening the safe when the secure phone started to ring again.

“Yes …. give me a moment.”

She managed to open the safe at the second attempt, then inserted the encryption key into the phone.

“Okay, we’re secure.”

“Where have you been?”

“Oh, hello Jenny, nice to speak with you as well.”

“Don’t be facetious.”

“Well, my GP insisted I went to an aerobics class, that’ll be every Monday morning.”

“Put the request in writing.”

“And if you say no, I’ll have my GP sign me off.”

“We’ll get a second opinion and you can work somewhere else. Don’t try to be clever, Heather.”

“Are we going to trade bickering or do you have something for me, Jenny?”

“Jimmy Ruddle is in Thurso this morning installing a secure phone.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll be called?”

“Yes, Jimmy only left your number, we don’t want her calling Thames House yet.”

“Fair enough.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“It wasn’t my job, ask Emily.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Sophie spotted the suspect car, she asked for it to be intercepted by an armed unit. That was her decision, not mine.”

“Will you submit a report?”

“No, it’s a police matter, in any case the guy was apparently telling the truth, he had been sold the car for a ridiculously low price and wanted to give it a long run out.”

“Where’s the car now?”

“Still in the pound, there were traces of cocaine. He was completely clean.”

“So the suspect ditched the car, when?”

“He bought it this time last week. Oh.”

“Indeed, that was only four days after our meeting when the car information was shared amongst the agencies. I want a report.”

“You’ll get it, Jenny. Is there anything else?

“Have you exchanged yet for the house purchase?”

“That’s today, I had an email late Saturday. We complete on Friday.”

“Fine, the contractors are due with you four weeks today.”

“That’s the ninth of March?

“Correct. Now, I need that report!”

“In case there’s a mole?”

“Get moving!”

Heather looked at her phone, one of the calls was from Jimmy Ruddle so she guessed she didn’t need to call him back now. She called one of the other numbers in the list.

“What’s the latest, Sophie?”

“The car is being dismantled, we’re looking for fingerprints, DNA, anything.”

“Are you still needed?”

“I’m liaising with National Crime Unit and the Met, it’s not that I don’t trust the team here …”

“…. but you don’t want to hear of any mistakes?”

“Yes, plus they don’t know the background to the case, so might not realise the relevance of some evidence.”

“When are you back?”

“Tonight maybe, probably tomorrow afternoon.”

“Take care, my love.”

Heather was sleeping alone again.

On Tuesday Heather was in her office from eight, hoping to clear a little of the backlog. She’d submitted her report the previous afternoon and already knew that was causing trouble, but right now another report was being compiled.

She’d turned her interest back to the property in Newbury and was checking her earlier finds, but very quickly she found it listed for sale and that it was marked as ‘vacant possession’.

“Damn, she’s done a runner.”

The listing was down as Saturday. On a whim she called the agent.

“Hello, what can you tell me about the property in Tudor Lane?”

“Oh, I visited it last week, it’s very well appointed. Have you seen the photos on our site?”

“I have, but I’m surprised Miss Hollande has already gone?”

“You knew her? It was a family emergency, apparently, and she was leaving the country.”

“That’s a shame, you don’t have her forwarding details?”

“I’m afraid such information is confidential.”

“That’s understandable.”

She wrote this up, the trail was going cold – had someone warned their only suspect? Heather decided to leave it a week then search again, if Hollande was still in the UK then there should be a trace? Of course, would she use another identity? Heather doubted the her suspect could again appear as a male, assuming that Bernice Hollande had previously used the Dimitris Dēmētríou identity.

Meanwhile she could anticipate contact from the young Tammy Smart in Thurso. Heather recalled that their last conversation had concerned a fashion show that Tammy was involved with, both as a model and a liaison, given that the show was at her school.

Heather was very aware that Tammy was transgendered, like herself, and had only presented herself as a girl since the previous November, four months earlier. For the security service both of them were an odd catch, but Tammy appeared to have several qualities and would fill an intelligence role that was badly absent in the Scottish Highlands.

A message came back from Jenny that instructed her to discontinue work on the Hollande/ Dēmētríou case and not to discuss the case with anyone. She added that Detective. Inspector Emily Keane had been informed.

“Great, a mole hunt is under way. And I can’t even discuss it with Sophie!” Said Heather out loud.

“Discuss what?”

“Oh!”

“Sorry, but you were miles away, you didn’t hear me come in?”

“No, Sophie, I’ve missed you.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I can’t say.”

“Orders?”

“Yes. Damn this intelligence game.”

“It’s not a game, Heather.”

“I know, I need a cuddle, they can’t stop that!”

It was sometime later and Heather was filling up the washing machine when Sophie called for her. “That girl’s calling on the secure phone.”

Tammy started to tell Heather about the fashion show and how the account spreadsheet didn’t make much sense. As Heather had never been involved in running a fashion show, or any public event, she couldn’t offer an opinion. One item on the spreadsheet piqued her interest though.

"And a dozen dosimeters? What local sources of radiation do you know, Tammy?"

"Radiation? I thought we were talking about a fashion show?"

"We are, are there any radiation sources near Thurso?"

"Well Dounreay nuclear power station is just past Scrabster, but that's not operational and is being decommissioned, there's even a visitors' centre."

"Dounreay is well documented too, anything else?"

"Not that I know of."

"Okay, thanks for what you've done so far but can you send me those documents?"

"By email?"

"No, nothing like this is to go to the email address on my business card. Do you have your laptop available?"

"It's here."

"Go to this website." Heather read out the site's address. "You'll need a login and a password, write these down but you need to keep them in the safe."

Tammy logged into the website which simply asked her to upload any documents, which she did.

"All done. Oh, hang on."

"What is it?"

"It's an email from Penelope Lane, I was sent the wrong data, I'm to delete it and wait for the correct set."

"Do as she asks then, assuming it's all uploaded?"

"Yes, the last one has finished."

"Good, when you received the new set of data, upload that as well."

"Will do."

"Well done Tammy, we'll speak in a few days."

"Okay Heather, what can I say to Sarah about this?"
Heather knew that Sarah was the owner of a clothing store in Thurso, a part of the fashion show and one of the reasons for Tammy’s transition.
"Say nothing, I have a feeling things will sort themselves out. You might like to look for a new venue for the show, however, I have a feeling the Golf Club's going to be unavailable."

Heather was thinking on her feet, if the event was on a neutral premises then it would be difficult to monitor or infiltrate, especially given the nuclear issue. How she would achieve this was another matter, and definitely outside of her job description.

"How would you .... never mind."
"Good girl, question everything but say nothing."
"I've got to go, bye."
Heather reminded the girl to take the encryption card out of the phone and to lock it away before finishing the call.

The rest of the week passed quickly and Heather received some private work to keep her occupied, including a trip into Truro on Friday.

She was mindful of the encounter with her harasser a week or so earlier, but the client was next to the cathedral so that had placed her in the middle of town. She took the opportunity to window shop in the bridal-wear stores.

She needed a wee and didn’t fancy using the public loos, that left cafés and pubs as options. She had ended up outside the same café that she and Sophie had used and initially took a seat inside.

“Oh, welcome back.”

“A skinny latté plus a slice of the coffee and walnut cake please.”

“Of course.”

Heather left her jacket on the seat and took herself, plus her bag into the ladies. She returned a few minutes later and found her order was already on the table. It was unseasonably warm so she picked up her coffee, bag and coat but couldn’t manage the small plate holding her cake. Given what was in her bag, the logistics of shifting to an outside table seemed insurmountable. She sat back down.

The café owner had arrived at the table after seeing Heather’s attempted relocation.

“Did you want a hand? Oh, I remember, you were celebrating your engagement when you were harassed by that turd, oops sorry?”

“I’d rather forget that day, he ruined it.”

“Did you hear what happened?”

“No, just that we were let down.”

“We have a customer who used to be a man and is now a woman. Anyway, he, she comes in around four on Wednesday afternoons and waits for the shops to get quiet before doing their shopping.”

“Almost like stealth shopping? For her own safety I guess?”

“Yes, I mean a marriage between two woman has been legal for a few years but still some people get issues with it. These people who don’t know who or what they are, they have a hard time.

“This woman, Julie is her name, formerly Julian, used to live on that metal fort off the coast near Helston and was forced off the place two weeks ago. We usually saw him, then her, twice a month but now it’s every week. Anyway, that man was hanging around on Wednesday and he made a grab at Julie.”

“Oh!”

“He shouted that he was going to pull her wig off, but it’s natural hair so she screamed. She managed a kick and caught him just right – he went down. A plain clothes policeman was near so they arrested him, his language was truly awful. It was right outside so we have it on CCTV.”

“Is Julie okay?”

“Upset but otherwise fine, I think she’s taken some self defence lessons. Anyway, she had been going to Boots to collect a prescription so I sent one of my staff instead, then we waited for a policeman to come for her statement. Didn’t you give a statement when he hit you?”

“No, it looks like we touched a nerve. We went home and the police never called.”

“Well, I told the policeman as well about the assault on you and the guy was in front of a magistrate on Thursday, yesterday. I’m told others came forward as well, including a fifteen year old who had been too frightened to report him. He’s been sent to Exeter Prison until he can be tried.”

“Sound like he’s dangerous, not just a total prick.”

“Indeed, I’m surprised you didn’t already know? Especially with your partner being in the police?”

“She doesn’t work for Devon and Cornwall, and I think that’s why we had trouble.”

“Oh, is she transport police?”

“Something like that, but she’s not keen on me talking about it.”

“Oh, okay. I’m Irene, by the way.”

“Heather.” She reached into her bag and retrieved a card, which she handed over.

Other customers arrived and Heather was left on her own to drink the coffee before it cooled down too much. The cake was lovely, of course, but she did wonder if the extravagance was justified when all she needed was a wee?

She needed to visit Boots for some multi-vitamins and almost immediately bumped into Inspector Bob Willis as she exited the store.

“Oh, hello Ms Young.”

“Cut it Bob, Sophie and I aren’t particularly happy with the locals right now.”

“There’s rules, and laws, to be followed.”

“So an assault victim doesn’t matter so long as your procedures are done properly?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Really?”

“Look, I’m sorry, and under normal circumstances we’d have been grateful.”

“But?”

“We were being audited by the Independent Office for Police Conduct because of recent events and I was trying to keep trouble away from them. Added to the problems was the custody sergeant refused to accept him as no-one knew who the arresting officer was.”

“You knew, or could have guessed?”

“Not at the time, Heather, but we did get him a couple of days ago.”

“He assaulted me! He also ruined my day, Sophie had proposed to me and we’d just bought our rings.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

“That doesn’t change things, it shouldn’t have made a difference and I would willingly given a statement at the time. But, Bob, if I see that prick another time I’ll leave him on the floor with a hole in his side.”

“I’m sure you’re angry, but please do not take the law into your own hands. There are colleagues in the force who would be very keen to have your firearm removed, using it for vengeance would be a good way of justifying its removal and your incarceration.”

“But you see my point?”

“Yes, and right now he’s out of the way.”

“In Exeter Prison, after Julie gave her statement. And the café provided CCTV.”

“As did the council, plus we have your assault on video too and let the magistrate see that.”

“How did you explain the lack of a statement from me and Sophie?”

“With difficulty, especially as normal citizens don’t carry handcuffs with them.”

“Who was in court?”

“Myself and DC Garston, he was arresting officer.”

“Is that overkill?”

“I wanted to make sure the toad didn’t get bail.”

“Feeling guilty, we you?”

“We both had a lousy day, Heather, and it’s made me think about my future. I’ve got another six months to go though. Can you forgive me?”

“Was it really that bad?”

“I shouldn’t say this, but Constable Smythe should have been dismissed months before he visited your cottage but some senior officers decided against following up the reports that were coming in. That caused the audit and it could result in some personnel changes.”

“Will it derail your retirement?”

“No, I wasn’t interviewed as he only came into my remit once he committed an offence in your lounge.”

“Okay, okay, you’re forgiven.”

Heather took herself into a greeting card store before driving home.