40 Days 40 Nights: A Sgt Major Crane Novel Page 19

  “Oh a few ladies who come onto the wards in the afternoons. To chat to those who haven’t got visitors. To stop us feeling left out I guess.” Tina’s head dropped as she played with the magazine on her lap.

  “And do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Feel left out?”

  Raising her head, Tina looked at him and smiled. “No, I don’t.” She reached for his hand. “Anyway it gives me a chance to chat about babies to my heart’s content. But enough about me - what’s the latest from the garrison?”

  Crane got to the happy ending that none of the Paralympians had suffered any lasting damage and that Captain Edwards was happy with him and Dudley-Jones’s performances, then stopped speaking, slumped in his chair, stretched out his legs and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets.

  “So why don’t you look happy?”

  Crane lifted his chin from his chest and looked at his wife. “Happy?”

  “Yes, you look very pissed off for someone that foiled an attempted suicide bomb and earned the praise of Captain Edwards.” Tina tucked her loose hair behind her ears, as if pulling back a net curtain so she could see him better.

  Crane put his elbows on the arms of his chair and pulled himself upright. Shaking his head he said, “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel finished somehow.”

  “Well it isn’t is it? The Paralympians don’t leave for another what, five days.”

  “Four.”

  “Okay four then. That’s probably all it is.”

  The shrill bell announcing the end of visiting hours also terminated their conversation. Crane clumsily embraced his wife, kissing her as though she was a piece of fine china.

  “Go on, get off home,” she gently pushed him away. “I’m tired enough to sleep now anyway. So don’t worry about me.”

  ***

  But Crane wasn’t tired enough to get off home and sleep. Recounting the events of the past few days had brought back his feelings of unease. His mind was too active. He sought sanctuary in his office, with his seven white boards for company. Listening to them, trying to hear their voices and failing. So he decided to go over them one by one.

  Crane pulled up a chair in front of the boards and firstly looked at the one documenting the death of Corporal Simms. Accident or murder, it made no difference, the young soldier was still dead. His body discovered within the bowels of the swimming pool complex. Nothing missing, nothing found. The only evidence just a single black hair on his clothes. Forgetting for a moment Captain Edwards’ theory that it was an accident, if he took it as murder, Crane mused, the only possible motive is that the soldier saw something or someone he shouldn’t have. Crane let his thoughts wander further. Someone or something that was in the wrong place. Didn’t belong.

  The second board was the murder of Corporal McInnes. He was definitely in the right place but at the wrong time. The military cemetery was on the guard duty roster. But he was alone, when he should have been accompanied by Corporal Cable. This one was clearly murder as his body was dragged behind a pill box. Forensics found blood and torn bits of clothing. Some of them were from McInnes himself, but there was no match to the samples from the unknown suspect. There was also something missing. His gun and live ammunition. Despite extensive searching of the cemetery they had never been found.

  Crane moved his chair along to sit in front of the third board. The theft of property from the Aspire Defence stores. Why had he done that board? It wasn’t a major investigation. But it was still something that had gone wrong on his watch. Something that happened whilst Team GB were on the garrison. Crane stood and took down the list of missing material. Just cleaning stuff, paper and paint brushes. Where was the list from the landscape gardening contractor? Crane couldn’t remember if it had ever come into the office and made a mental note to ask Kim tomorrow.

  The fourth board wasn’t anything to do with theft or murder. In fact Captain Edwards had argued that it was nothing to do with anything. Apart from Crane’s paranoia with the Afghan officers that was. Still, it was Crane’s office so he had a board with pictures of the four officers on; their self elected leader Fahran Popal; the quiet one Dehqan Khan; the one who turned out to be a would be suicide bomber Behnam Freed and the one that supposedly lost his way on Ash Ranges, Azar Niaz.

  After standing and stretching and discounting the idea of going out for a cigarette, Crane moved his chair along again and sat in front of the fifth board. The Afghan officer who went missing on Ash Ranges. Who was presently in the guard room, saying nothing. Offering no explanation whatsoever for having been found holed up with food and water. A forensic examination of his clothes had proved fruitless. The man was filthy, bringing a large part of the ranges back with him on his clothes.

  Crane reluctantly turned his attention to the sixth board, the one he didn’t want to face. The murder of Padam Gurung. He wasn’t entirely sure why this death had affected him so badly. Considering it, he felt empathy with the old soldier’s plight. The difficulties and prejudice he must have encountered whist trying to build a new life in England. What on earth possessed him to come here, Crane wondered? He was angry at the way life in England was being misrepresented to the Gurkhas back in Nepal. Angry with the so-called officials, who were no better than thieves, taking money from the old soldiers for visas. He had done some research and found that unscrupulous firms were charging the old men hundreds of pounds for visas that were actually free. How could someone defraud old and vulnerable people like that? Crane shook his head in disgust. Still, turning back to the case, he found once again there was no forensic evidence of any value. It looked like the environment Padam was found in had beaten the science. Rolling around on the ground in a wooded environment had obviously dislodged any evidence. If there was any in the first place.

  The final board Crane turned to was the one detailing the attempted suicide bomber. Looking closely, Crane found nothing from Bomb Disposal on the explosives used. He wondered what it was and where Freed got it. He made another mental note to talk to Kim about it in the morning.

  Crane finally succumbed to both tiredness and the need for nicotine, so pushed the chair back under the table and left the office, clicking off the lights as he went. Leaving his boards to sit in the darkness, still waiting for someone to hear their voices.

  Night 37

  My brothers and I continue with our mission. To take the one true path that Allah has decreed all Muslims should travel down. Niaz and Freed have played their parts well and continue to do so and will be rewarded by Allah when their time comes to stand in judgement before him.

  As for Dehqan Kahn and myself, we continue with the struggle. Continue with our mission to strike against those who invade our country and force them to leave. For we Muslims must once again acquire power over the state in our country, so we can establish religious order. This religious order will then stabilise social, economic and political order. Every one of our people shall know that Allah is great. Allah is good.

  As I speak, Kahn is working hard on our mission. The blood, sweat and tears he sheds will be illuminated by the brightness of our attack, which will shine around the world. Leaving you infidels in no doubt that you must leave our country immediately, or risk invoking the wrath of Allah again.

  And so my brothers and I will enter paradise when we die, as a reward for our actions. How do I know that? How can I be so sure? Why it is written in our holy book. Here is the verse, let me read it to you.

  Verily, Allah has purchased of the believers

  Their lives and their wealth

  For the price of Paradise,

  To fight in the way of Allah,

  To kill and get killed.

  It is a promise binding on the truth in the Torah,

  The Gospel and the Qur’an.

  Qur’an 9:11

  I say to you again, we shall fight in the way of Allah, kill and be killed and our reward will be entry into Paradise when the time comes. The fight continues. You will see. It’s n
ot over yet.

  Day 38

  Mired in paperwork, Crane was slowly going through his in-tray. The plethora of reports, memos and notices were beginning to merge into each other and he decided he needed more coffee before he could finish the job. As he stood and stretched, a single piece of paper slid from the rickety pile on his desk and fell to the floor. Stooping to pick it up, Crane saw it was a report from Aspire Defence. Intrigued, he carried it with him through to the main office, where he found Kim in front of the white boards.

  “Sir,” she said, “I was just wondering if I should take these down now.”

  Going to stand alongside her, Crane also mused over the boards. “No, I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “Not just yet anyway.”

  “Any particular reason?” Kim blushed and quickly said, “If you don’t mind me asking, sir?”

  Smiling Crane answered, “No I don’t mind you asking, Kim.” Setting down his coffee mug and the piece of paper he was holding, he perched on the side of a desk. “It’s just that I don’t think it’s over yet.”

  “What isn’t, sir?”

  “The threat I suppose. I can’t seem to draw a line under it. At least not until the Paralympians have left the garrison.”

  “In another two days?”

  “Yes, Kim, so keep the boards up a while longer would you?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Crane and Kim were still looking at the boards, both deep in thought, when Billy crashed through the door.

  “Boss,” he calls. “I’ve got it!”

  “Got it?” Crane looked at Billy, who was dishevelled, with tousled hair, his face shiny with sweat.

  “The smell, boss. The one I smelled under the swimming pool the night I was knocked out.” Billy was jiggling up and down.

  “Alright, Billy, calm down and sit down. Kim, go and get me some coffee would you and a cold drink for Sergeant Williams here.”

  Once everyone was settled with drinks, Billy explained. “I was passing by New Mons Barracks. The landscapers were working there, laying new turf and stuff. For some reason I stopped the car to see what they were doing. And that’s when I smelled it, that strange smell. So I wandered over to one of the contractors to ask what they were doing.”

  “Which was?”

  “Turning fertiliser into the soil to help the grass grow.” Billy sat back looking very pleased with himself.

  “But why would you have smelled fertilizer in a concrete structure?” Kim wanted to know. “And where would it have come from?”

  “Oh shit!” The involuntary exclamation came from Crane. “I think I know” and he reached for the piece of paper he had carried into the office.

  A quick skim of the contents confirmed his fears.

  “The break in at Aspire Defence stores. This was the report from Ms Stone. Fertilizer was stolen from the landscape contractors who were keeping it there.”

  He passed the paper to Kim. Luckily neither Sergeant had the courage to ask how he got the piece of paper, nor how long he had had it. Crane remembered the time when Ms Stone arrived at his office unannounced. He was so flustered by her sexual overtures that he had completely forgotten about the paper she’d handed him.

  “But there’s more, sir,” Billy dragged Crane’s attention back to the present.

  “I was walking through the RMP office after that, when I smelled paint. The barracks is being revamped and there were painters in some of the corridors. It made me realise that what I smelled was a mixture of paint and fertilizer.”

  “Paint and fertilizer? Are you sure?” It was Kim asking the question, turning round from updating the Aspire Defence theft board.

  “Positive, Kim. The only thing I don’t know is what it means.”

  “I think I might.”

  The voice at the door caused everyone to swivel round. Crane found himself staring at Dudley-Jones.

  “What have you got for us?” Crane beckoned the young Lance Corporal into the office. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

  “An intelligence report, sir. This was a transcript of a mobile phone conversation intercepted last night. I’ve just received it and thought it was worth bringing straight over.” Dudley-Jones held out a single sheet of paper to Crane.

  “Right, Lance Corporal. You know the drill.” Crane handed Dudley-Jones his empty coffee mug as he moved around and sat at the nearest desk.

  INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  DATE: 7.08.2012

  TIME: 23.30 hours

  PREPARED BY: Sgt P Smith

  CIRCULATION: Aldershot Intelligence Operative

  Below is a transcript of a mobile telephone conversation recorded at 23:00 hours on the 6th August 2012.

  PERSON 1: How is our friend?

  PERSON 2: Fully recovered now, thank you.

  PERSON 1: Good. I was getting concerned as I hadn’t heard from you. When will he be able to leave?

  PERSON 2: Tomorrow night.

  PERSON 1: Excellent, I’m sure it will mean a great deal to him. Thank you for your efforts.

  PERSON 2: It has been an honour, sir.

  The connection was then broken. The call lasted less than 60 seconds and originated from a mobile phone in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. The receiving mobile phone was in the Aldershot/Farnborough area. At this stage no information is available on either mobile phone number, with regards to the registered user or network provider, although enquiries are ongoing.

  The report did make interesting reading, Dudley-Jones wasn’t wrong there. Crane passed it to Billy, who after scanning through it passed it to Kim. Dudley-Jones returned with the coffee and was immediately quizzed by Crane.

  “Right, Lance Corporal, take me through this.”

  “Yes, sir. Well the first thing to note is that the phone call and conversation was between the same two parties as the one a couple of weeks ago. Our voice analysts have confirmed that they are identical. In fact, some of the actual words are identical, but I’ll get to that in a minute.”

  Dudley-Jones retrieved the report from Kim and put it side by side with the previous one, with the air of someone about to perform a magic trick. Trying hard to keep his face straight, Crane waited while Dudley-Jones paused theatrically.

  “The second thing to note, sir, is that the first question was the same – ‘how is our friend?’ That’s how we realised the two conversations were related. The answer – ‘fully recovered now’, makes us think they mean everything is ready. The phrase – ‘when will he be able to leave’ we believe is code for the question, when will the incident occur. But the reply is the worrying thing, sir, - ‘tomorrow night’.”

  Growing impatient after yet another dramatic pause by the young Intelligence Operative, Crane said, “Anything else?”

  “Yes, sir, the penultimate line – ‘I’m sure it will mean a great deal to him’, is again a verbatim quote from the first conversation and signifies that the organisers are very pleased. The final line – ‘it is an honour’ we believe has religious connotations, as though the person talking seems to realise they couldn’t openly use religious rhetoric.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, sir. If there are any further conversations, I’ve arranged to be notified immediately.”

  “Well, I doubt there’ll be any others, at least not until this is over. I think we’re all agreed on what we’re dealing with aren’t we? A bomb, more than likely under the swimming pool.”

  Crane’s gaze swept along his team. Kim looked as calm as ever, but her knuckles were white where she was still clenching the white board pen she’d been writing with. Billy had gone pale under his freckles and picked up his cold drink to take a large gulp. Dudley-Jones was swaying on his feet and his hand groped blindly for a chair as he sat down.

  “Right, it’s now 18:00 hours, this is what we’ll do. Kim, find out what’s happening at the swimming pool this evening, phone it through to me and also alert the Adjutant, DI Anderson and Bomb Disposal. Billy alert Staff Sergeant Jones, a
rrange for the RMP to lock down the garrison and then meet us at the swimming pool. Dudley-Jones, you’re with me, we’re off to see Captain Edwards.”

  ***

  Edwards was just leaving for the Officers’ Mess and seemed none too pleased by the disruption to his plans.

  “This better be good, Crane,” he grumbled as he waved them into his office.

  “Well, that depends on your point of view, sir.”

  “What does?”

  “Well, sir, I had a very good reason for interrupting you, but I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”

  And Edwards didn’t.

  “Let me get this right, Sergeant Major. You believe there is a fertilizer bomb located in the area beneath the swimming pool.”

  “Yes, sir. Made from the stolen fertilizer and ammunition from Corporal McInnes’ weapon.”

  “Which is going to be detonated tonight?”

  “Yes, sir. According to the intelligence report.”

  “So what’s the smell of paint all about?” Edwards rose to pace the small space behind his desk.

  “Well, sir, as we’ve never found the bomb, it must be disguised somehow. Placed there and then somehow painted over. I can’t dismiss the fact that Billy smelled both paint and fertilizer.”

  “And what have you done so far?”

  Crane explained his earlier instructions to Kim and Billy.

  “Very well, Crane, get over there and sort it out. Try and find this bloody bomb. Dismissed.”

  Crane and Dudley-Jones rose to leave. They were nearly out of the door when Edwards called, “Oh and, Crane?”

  “Sir?”

  “You’d better go via the armoury.”

  Night 38

  The temperature under the swimming pool was decidedly chilly, but Crane felt cold sweat sticking his shirt to his back. The large grey space echoed with noises. Water grumbled along pipes as pumps churned it round and round, trapping it in an everlasting cycle; sucked from the pool, along a pipe, through a filter, heated and then back into the swimming pool. The voices of the disabled athletes upstairs in the pool, who were being evacuated, echoed strangely. Warped and distorted, fading in and out, with the occasional scream piercing through the melee. Footsteps scraped and scuffled, as though a swarm of rats were down there with him, all wearing hobnailed boots.