“Yes, you do,” Olivia said. “You’ve had a lot of stuff on TV.”
Ian reached across the table and laid his hand on Alice’s shoulder. “You’re the girl.”
Alice smiled. “Thanks guys. I think last year’s documentary helped a lot. They told me there were several other good candidates. In fact, it ended up between me and one other person. I think money was an issue. So they got me cheap, even though it’s more than the last one.”
“Are you the lead producer this time?” Kristin asked.
Alice nodded. “Yes. I make the key decisions on the project. I still have to answer to the company, but I have control. Real control.”
Ian filled the glasses with the last of the champagne. “I think we should drink to Alice’s success. Well done, girl. Well done.”
Alice laughed. “Stop guys. You’re making me all embarrassed.”
“Don't be,” Olivia said. “You earned it.”
Alice looked across at Ian. “We might afford an apartment in the area now.”
“Depends on whether my parents give us a hand,” Ian said.
Olivia gave a quizzical look and Kristin spoke before anyone else had a chance. “Ian’s parents own the house and they are selling it.”
Ian nodded. “Retirement in the country is more expensive than they thought.”
“Oh,” Olivia said. “That’s a pain.”
“Not really,” Alice said. “It’s time we had our own place anyway.” She took a large sip of champagne and smiled. “And you know something? I think everything will work out fine.”
20
Laura checked her phone again. Still no response from her contact. The editorial room was fuller than would be normal for a Saturday. Senior management had summoned extra bodies to keep coverage of the South Ken attack rolling and now they all mumbled as one. Laura spoke up. “Are we waiting for something?”
Tim Burnham, the head of production, stopped writing on the white board and turned around. “We’re waiting for Sally.”
Daisy, one of the associate producers moaned. “Why’s she coming?” Daisy whined a lot. Even if she had a point. Some said director Sally McKee was a tyrant. Others said she did her job.
Minutes later, the door swung open and a chill breezed through the room. “Right,” said Sally. “Tell me about the South Ken champagne terrorist. Have we got a killer story? Tim?”
Tim leaned against the wall and addressed Sally. “We think it may be a dead end.”
“Think?” Sally asked. “What do you mean think?”
Again, Laura spoke up and everyone turned to look at her. “The police identified the woman in the video...”
“Give me something I don't know already.” Sally’s eyes drilled into Laura.
“The police interviewed Alice Madsen last night and have classified her as a witness, not a suspect.”
“Shit,” Sally said. “What does that leave us with?” Nobody said anything as Sally focused her stare on each person in turn. “I need more than this. What’s the competition got?”
“They’re focusing on the terrorist, Samir Hassan,” Tim said. “His relatives, his path to radicalisation.”
Laura cleared her throat and raised her hand. “There may be something in the Alice Madsen angle yet. Madsen and the terrorist worked together on a documentary last year. My source close to the investigation tells me there was an incident between Hassan and Madsen in Exhibition Street and they’re looking at it to see if it has any relevance.”
Sally furrowed her brows and clicked her fingers several times. “Are you suggesting this was a personal motive rather than a terrorist one?”
“I don't have enough yet.”
“Can we use it?” Tim asked.
Laura shook her head. “Not yet. I’d need to talk to Madsen.”
“Be careful,” Daisy said. “She’s a witness to a terror attack and integral to an ongoing investigation.”
Tim rapped on the table. “Nothing to say we can't investigate her. We should find out everything we can about her. We could also come at it from the on-line abuse angle. Portray her as another victim.” He turned to Sally. “My team got an address for her. She’s off Portobello Road. I suggest we doorstep her.”
“Yes, do it,” Sally said. “Who’s on her?”
“I’m going to send Mike...”
“Hey,” Laura said. “Come on. I already interviewed another witness, Lewis Cole. I should get her side of the story.”
“No Laura,” Tim said. “We need to ask tough questions. Mike’s the man.”
“Are you saying I’m not up for it? Well?” Laura’s phone beeped and she ignored it.
“No. No. Not at all. It’s just...”
“Just what?”
“Stop it,” Sally said. “We don't have time for this. Put Mike on the police presser. Laura got the witness, put her on the girl.” Sally turned to Laura. “Get Alice Madsen on record. Push her. I’ll get Stephanie to co-ordinate with your crew. Head over now. Watch the house. When you file, we’ll decide which way to tell her story.”
“Don’t you want to go live?” Laura asked.
“No. Let’s see what she’s got. She could be victim, villain or somewhere between. Get the story.”
“And if she won’t talk?”
“You’re a journalist. A well paid one. Improvise.”
Laura stood and glanced down at her phone. She read the text with clenched teeth. “Whoa. Just got something from my police contact. They’re on their way to Madsen’s with an arrest warrant.”
“What the fuck happened?” Tim asked.
“Dunno,” Laura said.
“Who cares?” Sally looked at Laura and pointed to the door. “Go. Go. Go.”
“Fine.” Laura ran from the room, waving at Ricky and Nafeez on her way to the lifts. They caught up with her as the lift doors opened.
“Where’s Simon?” she asked.
“Sitting in the van. Waiting in anticipation,” Ricky said. “What’s the rush? What’s going on?”
“Police on their way to arrest Alice Madsen.”
“Ah shit. It’s Saturday. Portobello will be mental.
