Five minutes later he was on the underground and looking forward to a very large whisky or two. He had finished what he came to London to do and now he could finally get the hell out of the bloody place. There would be a holiday to look forward to and a decent deposit in his bank account that would pay for a lot of booze and a lot of women.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Miller was convinced the attack on Murphy had required inside help. The route, timings and choice of court had been a closely guarded secret, which also meant that it was likely the source was someone deep inside one of the services and quite possibly was also senior. It was true the number of courts likely to be used was probably only a handful but he didn’t believe for a minute that someone had been positioned at every one, armed with a rocket launcher.
He was shocked that those responsible had access to an RPG. It wasn’t a weapon that you could just buy on the streets. He remembered the days in Ireland when RPG attacks on the troops armoured carriers were quite a regular occurrence. Had the IRA been responsible for this attack? It appeared the objective of the attack could only be to silence Murphy and the IRA were the ones to profit most from his death. He had a load more information in his head, which with his death was going to remain secret. Miller was disappointed he hadn’t yet raised the subject of Brian Potter with him. As always with that case, it was one dead end after another.
Three police officers in the van had been killed in the explosion and the rising body count was not acceptable. About now, wives, parents and sadly also children were having to come to terms with a future life without a loved one. Members of the public had suffered a mixture of broken bones and other injuries. By sheer luck none of them life threatening, so it was a small mercy the body count would not rise any further.
The press was in a feeding frenzy desperate for developments and arrests. For a shambolic government in the last throes of its tenure this was a final straw. But Miller was far more driven by the thought of the loss of innocent life and families affected, than the threats being hurled at him by politicians increasingly concerned for their future careers.
Unfortunately, even a closely guarded secret such as Murphy’s route and the Court was known to at least a dozen people including three on his own staff. He was willing to discount all of them so he was left with nine suspects.
As he stared at the list he noticed both the name of Simpson and his obnoxious boss. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was difficult to imagine any of the names on the list had intentionally let slip the details. It could just have been a casual conversation between one of the names on the list and someone they trusted. It shouldn’t happen but it easily could happen and was how so many secrets had been let slip over the years. Twelve names on a list could easily mean twice as many actually knowing. The driver and escorts had only been informed of the route at the last moment and been given no opportunity to contact anyone. Neither had they known who they were transporting until the very last second.
He decided lunch with Simpson, who was another name he felt he could quickly strike form the list of suspects, was once again necessary. Only this time it would have to be over a take away coffee, not an expensive meal. He called and arranged to meet by the river. Simpson had pointed out it was freezing cold outside but Miller had not listened. As he replaced the receiver Miller smiled at the thought of Simpson’s lack of excitement at the choice of meeting place for lunch. Even in the midst of a national crisis Simpson’s priorities never changed. Food first and everything else second.
Miller had telephoned Tom and let him know about the attack on the van and the death of Murphy. Despite the initial shock both he and Melanie had agreed they would lose no sleep over Murphy’s death. What did concern them was the evidence this presented of further carnage on London’s streets.
Tom returned to the task of trying to convince Melanie she should be on the next plane back to the States. Neither London nor Brighton seemed safe places to remain any longer than absolutely necessary. This time he uttered the words with conviction from his heart. He didn’t want her to come to any harm and the best way of ensuring that was if she went back home. He was carrying enough guilt around thinking of what had happened to Colin.
When she asked him, he admitted it was the last thing he really wanted but it was the only sensible course of action. She considered it carefully and agreed to leave but on the condition he went with her. She had said it mischievously with a smile, knowing he had a business and a brother who needed him. She explained she was not easily intimidated and had no intention of running away. Much like when you came to my aid she had said, again with that small smile. Tom admired her ability to construct a convincing argument. So deep down he was happy that at least for the foreseeable future it seemed Melanie intended to stay in England. He just
