When Sandra woke up the next day, she discovered that I was already wide awake by at least an hour. My breakfast plate was empty, and I had started going through the morning's newspapers by this time.
"Hello, darling," I said. "Thought I'd get an early start and carry-on trailing through the archives a bit."
"Can I ask a few questions about what you have discovered while I eat?" She said, placing some slices of bread in the toaster.
"Not at all," I replied. "Ask away."
"Can you tell me about your dream?" she asked.
"Not much," I answered.
She sighed resignedly and then asked, "Tell me what you have discovered then?."
"I have found out a lot," I said, "where do you want me to start?"
"Last night, you declared the Bomber detectives under no circumstances find any explosives. No material that could be used to make explosives, and no weapons of any kind. Do you recall what, other than the trace of coded emails, the
"Have you heard of the Finchley Pizza Shop Sting?" I asked "I can't say I have," Sandra admitted. "Of all the tales I will you, this may be the most distressing. So I'll give you a hasty synopsis. The narrative turns around Indika Nuwan Karunaratne, a Sri Lankan refugee who lived in East Finchley and sustained his spouse and six offspring with the pizza shop, Pizza Palace. The pizza enterprise was not performing well, and Karunaratne had started considering ways to expand his money stream when Mahesh Theekshana began to visit. Mahesh drove a showy vehicle, sported extravagant attire, and carried plenty of money. He said he was a prosperous entrepreneur, and he appeared pretty approachable. So, one day Indika Nuwan Karunaratne asked Theekshana for an advance. This was the introduction Theekshana had been waiting for, and he conveyed the discussion to his supervisor, an MI5 agent. But, in truth, Mahesh Theekshana was not a prosperous entrepreneur but a crimina
"One would ruminate," Sandra said, "that after such a public show of deceitfulness, Mahesh Theekshana would have been systematically disgraced." "But instead," I said, "he was welcomed as a hero, set up with an even larger financial plan, and sent out to grab more extremists." "Truly?" Sandra asked, "How come I haven't learnt something about all this?" "This case is all about distraction," I said, "and we've been led astray from the very start. Mahesh Theekshana emerged next in Claydon, a hamlet of Ipswich in Suffolk, where he began hovering around a mosque and performing in such a way that not a single person would have anything to do with him." "What was he doing?" "He began by going to the business office and asking for a list of followers. But the work force wouldn't give him one unless he showed a legitimate reason, and he never even tried to explain his demand. Instead, he began showing rolls of cash, proposing to buy people meals, give
I made another pot of coffee. Poured us a cup each and then continued. "Ever heard of the term, pinsetter?" "No, I haven't," Sandra replied. "The phrase comes from Ten-pin Bowling. A pinsetter is an apparatus at the far end of the lane, which gathers the pins that have been thumped down and prepares them for the next shot." "Where does this lead to?" "A terror-sting set-up agenda being approved by MI5 and MI6 is so evident it prompts the intelligence service of Ten-pin Bowling. It is called it Bowling For Terrorists and in my opinion, MI5, MI6, and the Metropolitan Police Force are recruiting pinsetters. Proficient agents whose job is to set up the guerrilla pins so that the SIS can knock them down." "I've never heard this nonsense used at New Scotland Yard," Sandra admitted. "Fairly regularly, the pins are allocated attack plans that are
"To comprehend what Tina Davis saw in the terror emails and how she understood what she saw," I said, "we ought to try to put ourselves in her shoes." "Okay." Sandra didn't look overly convinced. "And to a degree it may be conceivable, we could re-trace the order of events chronologically, as they would have developed to her." "Okay." Again, not sound that convincing. "We can begin with what we understand about the young woman who went to work at GCHQ. She was a wonderful mathematician, with a mammoth talent for lucidity. A competent recollection, and configuration- identification proficiencies far in advance of her contemporaries." "Everyone seems to agree with that." "If we merge these features, we can see, possibly, how or why she could do cerebral calculation so rapidly and precisely that her friends didn't need an adding machine when she was about. She was also extraordinarily courageous and motivated, as her cycling voca
"Tina must have found it very stress-free in reconsideration to see that the Easter Bombers were set up to be clouted. From the viewpoint of, Tell me that how is your sweety girlfriend? could mean, Send me some more self-incriminating email." "Right," Sandra said. "Once Tina saw that the Easter Bombers were not real extremists, it couldn't have taken her so long to be examining the possibility that the Liquid Bombers were set up to be bashed. The unsophisticated theory, offensive though it may be to a trustworthy government worker, satisfies so many of the problems Tina kept asking herself, it would have been obligatory to take it seriously." "Issues such as?" Sandra prompted. "Such as Why didn't the police find more implicating proof? and Why did it take so many hearings to get so few imprisonments? and Why did the prosecutions draw so little media coverage? If the Liquid Bombers conspiracy was unfeasible by purpose, all these difficulties would be r
I started work as soon as Sandra left. I had time on my hands before I met up with Hector Nelson. I had a suspicion that the response I was searching for may not be as straightforward as the problem. I was correct. I needed to learn what happened in early August to make the British Government keep it off the front pages. The short answer was Tom O'Connor. Tom O'Connor was a Labour political figure who was Shadow Deputy Prime Minister to Nick Stratton and a strong supporter of Brexit, Immigration, and the return of troops to Afghanistan. Many Labour Party supporters deliberated O'Connor was a turncoat to the political party and to the values it professes to back, and some wished he would misplace his location in the next shadow Government shake-up. One of them was Gerry Agnew, a billionaire with incomplete party-political knowledge but satisfactory individuality to take a stand slightly against the return of troops to Afghanistan. Agnew contest
When Sandra awoke Tuesday morning, I was deskbound, writing a couple of letters. “Morning darling,” I said without looking up. "What's happening?" Sandra asked, still somewhat tired. "I had a very thought-provoking chat with Hector Nelson on the Tube. Shall I tell you about it while you appreciate your breakfast?" "Why not?" she answered and started pour milk over her cornflakes. “I didn’t hear you come in, by the way?” “No, you wouldn’t have. I haven’t been home long.” I took a few minutes to finish what I was writing, then sat back in my chair and resumed speaking. "Hector handed me names and addresses," I said, "of two woman he thinks we should contact. Both, in his words, are attractive young female performers. I stated to him I didn't think you'd object." Sandra smiled and kept eating her cereal. "I have just completed transcribing to them," I continued, "demanding consultations at thei
The post arrived just as Sandra had finished making some ham and pickle sandwiches and handing me an envelope, with flowery handwriting. "Georgina Lyall will call on us at four o'clock this afternoon." "Is she one of the two good-looking blondes Hector recommended you had better get in touch with?" Sandra asked. "Certainly, she is. Unfortunately, I am not aware of anything else about her, or her association with this case, but I am sure we will find out rapidly enough." As expected, my forecast showed to be correct. Georgina Lyall appeared shortly before four and introduced herself with an astonishing declaration. "I would have come earlier had I known you were involved in the case, Mr Noone," she said. "I am so grateful for your letter." "Please sit down," I said, "and tell us, from the start, how you came to be involved in Tina's case." "It was through my job," she replied. "I'm a fashion stylist, and I teach at Homerton Coll