Scion by Murray McDonald Page A

jumped in.
    “W e’re pretty certain we’ve got the wrong man. The only thing that really doesn’t add up is the DNA match, particularly as the one he should have matched is the only one he didn’t.”
    “DCI Harris?” asked the Chief.
    “I’m less convinced than my colleagues of the suspect’s innocence Sir.”
    The chief’s eyebrows raised slightly as he turned away from Harris and faced Kelly.
    “ Kelly?”
    “I believe we definitely have the wrong man Sir,” replied Kelly with conviction.
    “It certainly seems that way but why the hell do we now have seven dead bodies with a central link that seems to be our suspect ?” asked the chief, as he summed up.
    “That’s the bit that’s got us baffled, Sir” replied Addison. “I’ve sent someone out to check the FSS death which we assume is foul play and I’ve asked the coroner for causes of death on the rugby players asap.”
    “We’ve also been trying to contact the lawyer who visited last night but so far have been unable to trace the firm he allegedly represented ,” added Kelly.
    Before the Chief could respond, his phone rang. He lifted the receiver.
    “Hello ?”
    “Please hold for the Prime Minister,” came the clipped voice.
    ***
    After visiting the hospital and dealing with his team members, Karl had driven one of the Range Rovers back to London. He had arranged to meet the Colonel the following morning at nine and approached his flat with trepidation. Karl still couldn’t believe that almost his whole team had been wiped out, three of them at his own hands, an action that would haunt him for a very long time.
    As he neared the exclusive block of flats in the heart of London’s Mayfair, he checked that nobody was watching before mounting the steps and pressing the Colonel’s buzzer,
    “Hello ?” came the voice from the speaker.
    “Hi, it’s Karl .”
    “You ’re early,” responded a surprised Colonel, releasing the door catch.
    Karl pushed the door open and quickly mounted the four floors. Finding the Colonel’s door wide open. He walked in. The Colonel shouted from the kitchen.
    “Tea or Coffee?”
    “Neither, thanks,” Karl answered as he walked through to the kitchen.
    The Colonel was pouring the boiling water into his cup when the bullet ripped a hole through the back of his skull and destroyed any possibility of an open casket funeral. Karl quickly left the flat, removing the silencer and pocketing his prized 9mm Korth semi-automatic.
    Karl checked his watch, 9.03 a.m. just under an hour to get to Heathrow to meet the flight from Washington as instructed.
    ***
    “You ’re on speaker phone with myself, the Home secretary and the Defence Secretary,” informed the Prime Minister.
    “ Good morning,” replied the Chief, wildly indicating for his guests to leave his office immediately. As the door closed behind them, the Chief continued.
    “H ow can I help you Sir?”
    “I’m calling on a matter of national security. I’m afraid I can’t go into the detail but it seems your suspect is not who you think he is and I assure you has nothing to do with the rapes.”
    “ We had pretty much come to that conclusion but his DNA matches the first four samples.”
    “When did those rapes occur ?” asked the Home Secretary.
    “Over the last ten months.”
    “It wasn’t him, he wasn’t in the country,” he replied firmly.
    “He told us that but wouldn’t tell us where he was.”
    “ He can’t but I’ll vouch for him as an alibi,” offered the Home Secretary.
    “As will I,” added the Prime Minister.
    “I’m sure that gives you sufficient comfort to eliminate him from your enquiries,” said George, the Defence Secretary.
    “Yes of course but we’ve got the incident last night . I can’t just let him go. Somebody may be trying to kill him.”
    “That’s our concern and that’s why we want him in a car and on his way to us as a matter of urgency. We’ll be waiting for him at the Defence Ministry ,”