The Disappeared

that he was accosted by a man with a ponytail whom he recognized as the driver of that vehicle. This man told Mr Madog that he 'hadn't seen him', then proceeded to spray paint into the hair of his six-year-old granddaughter who was sitting in the back seat.' Jenny met Tathum's gaze and felt herself weakening. 'Was that man you?'

He responded with a look of genuine astonishment. 'No, ma'am.'

'Are you able to say where you were on that day?'

'Still at home, I expect.'

All she needed was one thing to implicate him beyond a flimsy chain of circumstantial evidence, one tiny patch of solid ground. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mr Jamal, his face filled with pent-up anger, willing her on. Now was the moment. She had nothing more to lose. She looked over the heads of the lawyers to Madog.

'Mr Madog,' she said, 'I'm not asking you to perform a formal identification, but can you say if you recognize this witness?'

Startled, Madog flinched, then gave a nervous shake of his head.

'It's very important that you give this proper thought and don't feel at all intimidated, Mr Madog. I'll spell it out: do you recognize this witness as the man whom you allege accosted you and your granddaughter?'

Rising timidly to a hunched, semi-standing position, Madog said, 'No, ma'am . . . That's not him.'

A dreadful familiar numbness crept over her. She continued mechanically, a dispassionate observer. She scarcely absorbed a word of the cross-examinations offered by Havilland then Khan, except to register that Tathum had survived without a blow being landed. Tathum brushed aside every accusation and hectoring question Khan threw at him, and stepped down from the witness box as confidently as he had entered it.

Maitland's evidence took less than ten minutes. A brisk, polite, ex-SAS colonel, he confirmed that he ran a company specializing in the provision of highly trained ex-servicemen as bodyguards and security advisers to wealthy businessmen and foreign governments. Tathum was one such, who had completed three contracts in the year 2002. None of them, he explained with the reassuringly nonchalant tone of a high- ranking officer, involved the escorting of two young Asian university students over the Severn Bridge from Bristol.

It was nearing four o'clock when Maitland strolled out of the hall with Tathum. It was a natural moment to call a halt and take stock of the ruins of the day, but Jenny couldn't bear to send the jury home having made up their minds. It was a gamble, but maybe it was the right time to introduce them to McAvoy. He would be wild, full of extravagant speculation and conjecture, but at least he'd make the jury take notice.

'We'll have Mr McAvoy next, please,' she said to Alison.

Her officer gave her a look as if to say she hoped she knew what she was doing, then made her way to the back of the hall to call him in from the front lobby, to which he'd been banished at lunchtime. After an unnaturally long pause, Alison returned announcing that according to the constable at the front door, McAvoy had left the building an hour ago.

'Oh,' Jenny said, failing to disguise a sudden surge of panic. 'Well, then perhaps we'll call it a day and see if we can't have him back here first thing tomorrow.'

Martha Denton interjected, 'If I could trouble you for a moment, ma'am preferably in the absence of the jury.'

'Is there a matter of law you wish to discuss?'

'It's more of a procedural issue, but nothing that need concern the jury at this stage. I'm sure they're extremely keen to get away after a long day.'

She was greeted by a ripple of thankful laughter. 'Very well,' Jenny said and reminded the jury not to discuss the case overnight, even with members of their close families. They had begun to gather coats and handbags even before she had finished talking, and bustled eagerly out of the hall with almost indecent haste.

'Yes, Miss Denton?' Jenny said, still trying to accept that McAvoy had deserted her.

Martha Denton produced several copies of a document. Alison brought one forward to Jenny. The rest were distributed among the other lawyers.

Denton said, 'In the interests of clarity, my clients felt that David Skene should make a statement setting out the substance of his evidence. As you'll see, it raises one major legal issue, but my clients are confident about how that should be resolved.'

'Hold on, Miss Denton.'

Jenny skimmed over the brief three-paragraph statement.

I am David Skene, a former intelligence officer employed by the Security Services. From 2001 until 2004 I was attached to the anti-terrorist team. In early July 2002 I was asked to head a unit to liaise with CID officers in Bristol who were investigating the reported disappearance of two male Asian university students, Nazim Jamal and Rafi Hassan. Jamal and Hassan had been regular attendees at the Al Rahma mosque, which had been under police surveillance following receipt of intelligence suggesting that the resident mullah, Sayeed Faruq, and a number of his close associates including a postgraduate student, Mr Anwar Ali, had been acting as recruiters for the Islamist organization, Hizb-ut-Tahrir.

During the following weeks my colleague, Mr Ashok Singh, and I interviewed a number of students and staff at the university as well as members of the missing men's immediate families. We failed to gather any significant evidence to indicate their whereabouts. The CID had more success. In particular, they obtained anecdotal evidence (from a then student, now 'Dr') Sarah Levin that Jamal had been heard in a student canteen glorifying young British radicals who had gone to fight as jihadis in Afghanistan. A member of the public, Mr Simon Donovan, then came forward and claimed to have seen Jamal and Hassan on a London-bound train on the morning of 29 June. While police continued their investigations on the ground, Mr Singh and I were redirected to other duties though we remained in regular contact with Bristol CID.

In August 2002 intelligence was received from a trusted human source which corroborated the theory that Jamal and Hassan had indeed left the country with the assistance of a radical Islamic group. This source was considered highly credible and the nature, although not the substance, of the intelligence was passed on to the CID in Bristol. This led to a gradual winding down of the investigation on the ground.

The substance of this intelligence remains highly classified.

Jenny looked up from the document, realizing she had stumbled into a trap from which there would be no escape. A wave of nausea rose up from deep in the well of her stomach.

'Are we going to hear the substance of this intelligence?'

'I hardly think so, ma'am. I'm instructed that the source is still extremely sensitive and that any disclosure could seriously compromise him or her. As I'm sure you are aware, the law is very clear on this issue, but to answer any question you may have, I have prepared a brief submission.'

Martha Denton's instructing solicitor was already handing out copies of authorities back to the 1960s. Jenny's knowledge of the law pertaining to national security and the disclosure of evidence was sketchy at best. Martha Denton proceeded to give her a lesson.

Since the ground-breaking case of Conway v. Rimmer (1968), she explained, evidence could be withheld from the court if the Secretary of State was satisfied that it was overwhelmingly in the public interest to do so. Even Jenny knew this much. What she hadn't appreciated, however, was just how wide the definition of 'public interest' had become. The cases were clear: it was now considered in the public interest to protect vulnerable or important intelligence sources and, it seemed, evidence which might be used to identify them.

Denton said, 'Needless to say, the Secretary of State is satisfied that the evidence of our source does indeed pass this test, and a certificate of public interest immunity will be at the court in the morning.'

Jenny flicked hurriedly through the pages of Jervis and found a passage which seemed to suggest that coroners, along with other judges, had the right to view evidence which the Secretary of State wished to certify to determine whether it did in fact pass the public interest test. Denton was ready with a further battery of precedents, all of which stated that there were cases in which a 'judicial peep' at the disputed evidence was not even appropriate. This was such a case, Denton insisted: the evidence in question was so sensitive that not even one of Her Majesty's coroners could be trusted to view it. If Jenny refused to agree, the inquest would have to be adjourned and the issue referred to the High Court.

'Let's forget the law for a moment, Miss Denton,' Jenny said. 'What you're telling me is that there is evidence that Nazim Jamal and Rafi Hassan left the country. Eight years have passed but you have never told the families what this intelligence is, and you still don't intend to.'