calls?’
Cindy shook her head. ‘He doesn’t use a phone.’
‘Ever?’
‘Turns it on every couple of days for just a few minutes. The rest of the time it’s off and he leaves it at home.’
‘Somewhat incriminating.’
Jedburgh, ex-Special Branch and a notorious sceptic, launched in: ‘So you’ve got a classic loner, who’s conquered his demons and trained himself to channel his rage. What’s holding him back? Chances are that having started he’ll probably keep shooting. I suggest you pull your finger out and bring him in before he does any more damage.’
Mandler agreed. ‘Good point. Keep them coming.’
Molly Downham, the only other woman in the group, never spoke up unless she had something pertinent to say. ‘James, can you share with us exactly why you’ve been playing your cards even closer to your chest than usual?’
Woolf nodded. ‘That brings me neatly on to part two. We’ve covered the who , but now comes the why . Why kill a perfectly decent liberal-minded community worker who’s been commended for his work with disaffected youth?’ He leaned forward and hit the space bar again. ‘Recognize him?’
The next sequence was a video of a man in his early thirties standing at a podium, receiving an award from the Mayor of London in front of an audience, who were giving him a standing ovation. ‘Vernon Rolt, founder of Invicta.’
‘So his facility is being used as a secret training ground for white British jihadis. That’s pretty far-fetched, isn’t it?’
Woolf glanced at the other two. ‘Yes. It’s crazy and everyone who’s heard it agrees.’
It was Molly’s turn again. ‘Are you actually pointing the finger at Vernon Rolt ?’
Woolf raised his eyebrows inscrutably. ‘I wouldn’t want to go that far … just yet.’
‘But that’s why you’re keeping this in the family.’
Woolf nodded again.
Jedburgh cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, James, but I’m not buying it. Right now we’ve got an inundation of returnees from Syria. A lot of them have seen and done unimaginable things, been thrown together with the most out-there extremists. They’re trained, they’re battle-hardened and we can’t keep track of them because they’re using different names, keeping away from their families and so on. We just don’t have the resources or the intelligence.’
This Woolf knew to be true, to his frustration. And Jedburgh wasn’t done.
‘The sight of one of their own being all lovey-dovey and multi-culti with Christians, atheists and whatnot, they’re going to see that guy as the enemy even more than the Anglos. It’s a nice idea, but I think you’re going to find you’re barking up the wrong tree. Radicalization is the issue, nothing else.’
The meeting fell silent. Woolf glanced at Rafiq, then Cindy. Both were studying their hands intently.
Mandler got up and brought the meeting to a close with a speech about how grateful he was to them for sparing the time, and waited while the others filed out to their cars.
‘Interesting.’ He gave Woolf a mischievous look.
‘Really?’
‘You have to consider all sides of the problem. And the trouble is, what you’ve got here is conjecture. I think we might park this for now. Perhaps I can find something else on which you can train your enormous brain.’
It sounded like a compliment, yet also a putdown.
And with that he folded up his glasses and left.
20
Westminster, Central London
‘Can you open your bag, please?’
There was a heavy police presence outside Party Headquarters, checking people before they went through the door. Barriers had been set up to funnel visitors to a table where their belongings were being examined. Sam unzipped his bag. The policewoman glanced in and ran a grey plastic wand over his laptop. ‘ID?’
‘I have an appointment, with—’
‘ID, please,’ she repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her.
He felt inside his coat and brought the driving licence out of his wallet. She peered at
Cindy shook her head. ‘He doesn’t use a phone.’
‘Ever?’
‘Turns it on every couple of days for just a few minutes. The rest of the time it’s off and he leaves it at home.’
‘Somewhat incriminating.’
Jedburgh, ex-Special Branch and a notorious sceptic, launched in: ‘So you’ve got a classic loner, who’s conquered his demons and trained himself to channel his rage. What’s holding him back? Chances are that having started he’ll probably keep shooting. I suggest you pull your finger out and bring him in before he does any more damage.’
Mandler agreed. ‘Good point. Keep them coming.’
Molly Downham, the only other woman in the group, never spoke up unless she had something pertinent to say. ‘James, can you share with us exactly why you’ve been playing your cards even closer to your chest than usual?’
Woolf nodded. ‘That brings me neatly on to part two. We’ve covered the who , but now comes the why . Why kill a perfectly decent liberal-minded community worker who’s been commended for his work with disaffected youth?’ He leaned forward and hit the space bar again. ‘Recognize him?’
The next sequence was a video of a man in his early thirties standing at a podium, receiving an award from the Mayor of London in front of an audience, who were giving him a standing ovation. ‘Vernon Rolt, founder of Invicta.’
‘So his facility is being used as a secret training ground for white British jihadis. That’s pretty far-fetched, isn’t it?’
Woolf glanced at the other two. ‘Yes. It’s crazy and everyone who’s heard it agrees.’
It was Molly’s turn again. ‘Are you actually pointing the finger at Vernon Rolt ?’
Woolf raised his eyebrows inscrutably. ‘I wouldn’t want to go that far … just yet.’
‘But that’s why you’re keeping this in the family.’
Woolf nodded again.
Jedburgh cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, James, but I’m not buying it. Right now we’ve got an inundation of returnees from Syria. A lot of them have seen and done unimaginable things, been thrown together with the most out-there extremists. They’re trained, they’re battle-hardened and we can’t keep track of them because they’re using different names, keeping away from their families and so on. We just don’t have the resources or the intelligence.’
This Woolf knew to be true, to his frustration. And Jedburgh wasn’t done.
‘The sight of one of their own being all lovey-dovey and multi-culti with Christians, atheists and whatnot, they’re going to see that guy as the enemy even more than the Anglos. It’s a nice idea, but I think you’re going to find you’re barking up the wrong tree. Radicalization is the issue, nothing else.’
The meeting fell silent. Woolf glanced at Rafiq, then Cindy. Both were studying their hands intently.
Mandler got up and brought the meeting to a close with a speech about how grateful he was to them for sparing the time, and waited while the others filed out to their cars.
‘Interesting.’ He gave Woolf a mischievous look.
‘Really?’
‘You have to consider all sides of the problem. And the trouble is, what you’ve got here is conjecture. I think we might park this for now. Perhaps I can find something else on which you can train your enormous brain.’
It sounded like a compliment, yet also a putdown.
And with that he folded up his glasses and left.
20
Westminster, Central London
‘Can you open your bag, please?’
There was a heavy police presence outside Party Headquarters, checking people before they went through the door. Barriers had been set up to funnel visitors to a table where their belongings were being examined. Sam unzipped his bag. The policewoman glanced in and ran a grey plastic wand over his laptop. ‘ID?’
‘I have an appointment, with—’
‘ID, please,’ she repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her.
He felt inside his coat and brought the driving licence out of his wallet. She peered at
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