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Last but not least the legendary Frank Labied. By all accounts a real life James Bond with a fearsome reputation as a press-on type. Dark, with a good head of hair and a full but neat moustache, Morgan put him in his late forties, maybe a little older but in good shape. Six feet at least and passably good looking. Morgan idly wondered if having an Iraqi grandfather was a problem for him in these difficult days.
Margo started the meeting proper. “Most of you will be aware of the salient facts of this case but I will ask Jasper briefly to walk us through the main points. You may ask any questions you wish but please remember that this not an enquiry board. That will come later.”
Norris shuffled his papers and got up from his chair. The Chief looked up “Please Jasper, do feel comfortable and sit. We are all old friends here.” He suddenly realised that the policeman might not fall into that category and shot him a sweet smile as if craving his indulgence. Jasper sat down.
“Jonathan Grindley left the UK from London Heathrow at nine-fifty-five am on Tuesday, second November this year, on BA Flight 143 to Delhi.” The Chief frowned and looked pointedly at Margo Morrison.
“I think we can leave the detail as read,” she interrupted. “Just the main points if you will Jasper.”
He started again and went quickly through the known facts, frequently consulting his notes. Everyone in the room nodded sagely as Grindley’s Gulliver stratagem was revealed. Norris’s version hardly differed from one that Frank Labied might have given. Only the parts about planting the bond on Cross and the episode at the police station were different. According to Norris, Grindley had been taken in for questioning but later released for lack of evidence. Several times, while Norris gave his version of affairs with the Indian police, the Chief had looked up and tried to catch Labied’s eye but on each occasion had failed to do so.
Norris continued his narrative without interruption. The two men had rested and then flown to Dubai. Grindley had been through a lot and was probably suffering from delayed shock. He had stayed on, resting for two days. Frank Labied had got a flight back to Heathrow the same evening the two men had landed in Dubai.
Jeremy Grace interrupted the flow. “Am I right in thinking that the bonds were retained by Grindley and not returned with Mr Labied?”
Norris consulted his notes. “That is correct,” he responded.
“Why was that?” Grace asked as though he had uncovered some serious irregularity.
It was Margo Morrison who came to the department’s defence. “Perfectly normal practice and you know it Jeremy. Jonathan Grindley was an experienced officer, familiar with the India, Dubai and Afghan desks. Once the collateral had been recovered he quite correctly re-assumed full responsibility. It would have been a serious breach of standing orders had he, while not under threat, handed-over such a large sum to an unauthorised field agent without a direct order to do so.” She flashed Labied a quick smile. Jeremy Grace pulled a long face and leaned back in his chair. Evidently not satisfied but for the moment silenced.
Norris looked around the room and then went on. On Monday eighth November, Jonathan Grindley boarded the one-forty-five BA Flight number 106 from Dubai to London Heathrow.” He paused and looked directly at the Chief who kept his head down and said nothing. “We have it as firm evidence that he made it off the flight at Heathrow at six-fifty local time next morning.”
Grace almost leapt from his chair. “Do you mean to tell me that no one thought it wise to offer an escort for a man carrying two million dollars of Treasury money?” He sounded apoplectic.
Margo said nothing. The Chief looked up. “Oh, do read your brief old man,” he said kindly.
Norris gave Grace a cold look and went on. “He was met off the flight by an armed departmental security officer who took charge of the bonds and telephoned in to report that all was well and that they were on the way to the car park to pick up Grindley’s vehicle.
Grace muttered a, “Sorry Sir,” and went back to checking his briefing notes.
Norris paused again, allowing time for the facts to sink in. “At or about ten-forty the same morning a party of school children getting into their minibus alerted the attention of PC Warner, of British Transport Police to a green Rover 75 parked in a nearby bay. In the car the constable found the bodies of Jonathan Grindley and the security officer. They had been dead for a number of hours. There was no sign of a struggle, everything else in the car was as it should be except that the bonds were missing”
“Do we have any hard evidence as to who and why?” It was Barrington-Smith who spoke. He addressed himself to the policeman.
Morgan looked around. “I’m afraid at present it’s person or persons unknown,” he said to the room at large. “As you have heard, there was no trace of the bonds so robbery is very likely the main, if not the only motive.”
“Who knew they were carrying such a large amount,” Grace asked, his earlier faux pas apparently forgotten. Labied looked up.
“You mean apart from people in the department?” Margo interjected.
“I suppose so,” Grace conceded.
There was silence. Morgan looked at Labied then gave them the benefit of his knowledge. “Bear in mind we have no evidence at this stage but it can’t be discounted that the Afghanis, or whoever Mr Labied and Jonathan Grindley met in India, had accomplices that either followed Grindley back or alerted their London cronies. It is likely that it was this person or persons who killed the two men and made off with the bonds. The style of the killings is perhaps significant.”
“Remind us Mr Morgan,” the Chief said quietly without looking up.
“Their throats were cut.” Morgan sounded sombre. “The ritual Islamic way I am led to believe.”
There was silence. Everybody seemed to be imagining Grindley’s horrible demise.
It was Margo Morrison who finally broke the silence. “Does anyone have any other questions?” She looked around the room. Nobody responded. “Right, well, where to from here? In the next few days an official enquiry into the whole operation will begin, so any or all of us may be called to give evidence. The actual murders at Heathrow are the province of Mr Morgan and I am sure he will wish to say a few words on that score.” She looked at the policeman.
“Our enquires continue. We have rounded up suspects from the likely sympathiser groups but I have to say that this looks like the work of seasoned professionals. If you wanted to choose a place to kill someone and then get clean away, an international airport is not a bad location. If the killers have the bonds and I think it safe to assume they have, then I can’t think of any way we can trace them if they decide to cash them in, which I also assume they would wish to do.”
“Are you suggesting that apprehending the killers is no longer a practical possibility?” The Chief fixed Morgan with piercing blue eyes.
“Unless we get exceptionally lucky or the perpetrators make a stupid mistake then I am afraid Sir, it is unlikely we will see a result. As you imply, time is not on our side”
“That goes for the money too I suppose?” It was Grace’s question.
Morgan nodded, “I’m sorry to say, that goes for the money too,”
Frank Labied cleared his throat as if about to start on a long narration. They waited expectantly. “As I am the one who was with Jonathan most of the time in India, I suppose I ought to say something about the operation. First, I would like to make the point that Jonathan displayed enormous courage at all times, particularly in the light of the fact that he was not a trained field operator.” Margo nodded her head vigorously. “I also have to say that I can’t help feeling I could have done more. I was unable to act as guardian angel during the exchange at the restaurant and I then left Jonathan in Dubai when I should have stayed and accompanied him home. There are reasons for both those omissions but there were nonetheless other courses open to us.” He fell silent. The long narration had failed to materialise.
Margo spoke up. “This isn’t the time or place but as Frank has potentially sown the seeds of blame in some of your minds, let me at once deflect it away from him. First, it is quite correct that Frank was appointed guardian angel for the handover of the bonds. His flight from Bahrain was however diverted by fog to Bombay
