They’re asking around in Jakarta,’ Vereker continued. ‘Our people suspect the reason he was being so secretive could well have been a woman.’
Copeland’s face was a mask. He knew of other reasons.
‘Mmm. Possibly. So, what’s being done?’ he demanded. ‘Commissioner Stanley?’
‘Warwickshire police are with Mrs Bowen, in case there should be any attempt to contact her. And in conjunction with the Security Service,’ he said, acknowledging the woman from MI5, ‘we’re checking on the anti-arms trade people in Britain. And any other groups that take an interest in Indonesian human rights. This kidnap does seem remarkably elaborate. Suggests big money behind it.’
‘Too well financed for it to be the Kutu resistance?’ asked Copeland. The mining project was not unfamiliar to him. ‘What do we know about them?’
‘Call themselves Organisasi Kutun Pertahanan,’ intoned Vereker in an accent he hoped sounded authentic. ‘OKP for short. Sworn enemy of KUTUMIN which is an acronym for Kutu Mining – that’s the consortium one-third owned by Metroc Minerals. The OKP has a political wing operating semi-openly in the island’s capital Piri. Dr Junus Bawi – he’s the kingpin. A professor at Kutu University. Placid, reasonable sort of chap. Then there’s a small military faction in the mountains run by a wild man called Soleman Kakadi. Used to be a pal of Bawi’s until they split over tactics. The mine means depopulating a huge area of the island. Kakadi’s guerrillas try to sabotage earth-movers and stuff, and ambush Indonesian soldiers to get their weapons.’
‘Yes, but are they up to kidnapping Stephen?’ Copeland asked, uncomfortable at being reminded what was being done there.
‘Our assessment is no, not on their own. However, with outside help, it’s possible. There’s a bunch of Australians who’ve made Kutu a big issue in the Pacific.
They
’ve got money and, I imagine, people who know how to use TV satellites.’
‘So what are you doing about them?’
Commissioner Stanley cleared his throat. Time to get his elbow back in.
‘At the Yard we have good contacts with ASIO, the Australian security people. It’s the middle of the night there now, but we’ll be on to them in a few hours. I imagine the SIS will too. Different channels. Belt and braces, prime minister.’
Vereker gave a watery smile.
‘And as for Europe,’ Stanley continued, ‘the French and German liaison officers at the Yard are already kicking arses, so we’re confident of a lead soon on tracing that satellite uplink.’
Copeland became agitated. ‘Speed is of the essence gentlemen and ladies, if we’re going to be able to save Stephen’s life
and
the arms contract,’ he said. ‘I can already feel pressure building to cancel it. Half a billion pounds ’ worth of jobs up the spout.’ He looked round at the assembled faces for support. ‘You know, most people in Britain simply don’t care who we sell arms to. But when the nastiness of one particular regime gets thrust in their faces by something like this, then they begin to think they have a conscience.’
There was no disagreement. Copeland looked down at the notes he’d made, then frowned.
‘So on balance of probabilities, Stephen’s still in the far east. Right?’
‘Ye-es,’ answered Vereker, glancing at Stanley for backup.
‘So, what powers do
we
have for pursuing our investigations there?’ the PM asked pointedly.
‘It’s really down to the police in the countries concerned, prime minister,’ Vereker explained. ‘We can offer assistance and feed them any intelligence we get, but it’s up to them what they do with it.’
‘I don’t much like the sound of that.’
‘Probably be wise to put the SAS on standby,’ the assistant commissioner suggested, ‘for advice if nothing else. And I’ve a couple of blokes ready to go anywhere at a moment’s notice if we get into a hostage negotiation. They’ve been before, when those
Copeland’s face was a mask. He knew of other reasons.
‘Mmm. Possibly. So, what’s being done?’ he demanded. ‘Commissioner Stanley?’
‘Warwickshire police are with Mrs Bowen, in case there should be any attempt to contact her. And in conjunction with the Security Service,’ he said, acknowledging the woman from MI5, ‘we’re checking on the anti-arms trade people in Britain. And any other groups that take an interest in Indonesian human rights. This kidnap does seem remarkably elaborate. Suggests big money behind it.’
‘Too well financed for it to be the Kutu resistance?’ asked Copeland. The mining project was not unfamiliar to him. ‘What do we know about them?’
‘Call themselves Organisasi Kutun Pertahanan,’ intoned Vereker in an accent he hoped sounded authentic. ‘OKP for short. Sworn enemy of KUTUMIN which is an acronym for Kutu Mining – that’s the consortium one-third owned by Metroc Minerals. The OKP has a political wing operating semi-openly in the island’s capital Piri. Dr Junus Bawi – he’s the kingpin. A professor at Kutu University. Placid, reasonable sort of chap. Then there’s a small military faction in the mountains run by a wild man called Soleman Kakadi. Used to be a pal of Bawi’s until they split over tactics. The mine means depopulating a huge area of the island. Kakadi’s guerrillas try to sabotage earth-movers and stuff, and ambush Indonesian soldiers to get their weapons.’
‘Yes, but are they up to kidnapping Stephen?’ Copeland asked, uncomfortable at being reminded what was being done there.
‘Our assessment is no, not on their own. However, with outside help, it’s possible. There’s a bunch of Australians who’ve made Kutu a big issue in the Pacific.
They
’ve got money and, I imagine, people who know how to use TV satellites.’
‘So what are you doing about them?’
Commissioner Stanley cleared his throat. Time to get his elbow back in.
‘At the Yard we have good contacts with ASIO, the Australian security people. It’s the middle of the night there now, but we’ll be on to them in a few hours. I imagine the SIS will too. Different channels. Belt and braces, prime minister.’
Vereker gave a watery smile.
‘And as for Europe,’ Stanley continued, ‘the French and German liaison officers at the Yard are already kicking arses, so we’re confident of a lead soon on tracing that satellite uplink.’
Copeland became agitated. ‘Speed is of the essence gentlemen and ladies, if we’re going to be able to save Stephen’s life
and
the arms contract,’ he said. ‘I can already feel pressure building to cancel it. Half a billion pounds ’ worth of jobs up the spout.’ He looked round at the assembled faces for support. ‘You know, most people in Britain simply don’t care who we sell arms to. But when the nastiness of one particular regime gets thrust in their faces by something like this, then they begin to think they have a conscience.’
There was no disagreement. Copeland looked down at the notes he’d made, then frowned.
‘So on balance of probabilities, Stephen’s still in the far east. Right?’
‘Ye-es,’ answered Vereker, glancing at Stanley for backup.
‘So, what powers do
we
have for pursuing our investigations there?’ the PM asked pointedly.
‘It’s really down to the police in the countries concerned, prime minister,’ Vereker explained. ‘We can offer assistance and feed them any intelligence we get, but it’s up to them what they do with it.’
‘I don’t much like the sound of that.’
‘Probably be wise to put the SAS on standby,’ the assistant commissioner suggested, ‘for advice if nothing else. And I’ve a couple of blokes ready to go anywhere at a moment’s notice if we get into a hostage negotiation. They’ve been before, when those
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