CXVI:Secrets Broken(9)By: Angie Smith
“I presume you’re a colleague of Faulkner-Brown,” Foster ventured, shaking hands.
Granger smiled. “We’re here to help you clear up the mess him and his team have created. Allow me to introduce Lou Chow.”
Foster shook hands again. “I’m sorry to disappoint you two gentlemen, but we don’t need help. This is a police investigation. . .”
“Involving the former Foreign Secretary; who it appears was shot dead by your detective sergeant, Miss Maria Barnes.”
Foster’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yes,” he snapped. “I’ve been informed of that fact. I need to speak to Woods. Where is he?!”
“The last time I heard he was still alive.”
“Still alive! Is he critical?”
“I’m not sure… We found him unconscious. He’d tried to stop Williams and Barnes escaping. He’d lost a lot of blood and couldn’t make it. He’s in a private clinic in Cheshire, along with Jonathan Plant, and Albion Bedford - who we found tied up in the basement. We thought it better if we took all three there.”
“Yes, I bet you did.”
“And what evidence do you have that Barnes murdered Guilford-Johnston?”
Granger explained about the call from the Maserati and the assumption that Woods and Barnes were heading to Bedford’s offices. “Our guys were setting up station, and one in the multi-storey, with a high powered camera, took images of what was going on in the room. We have pictures showing her aiming the gun straight at Guilford-Johnston’s head.”
“That doesn’t prove she killed him.”
“No, you’re right, it doesn’t. However the statements from Jonathan Plant and Woods saying she pulled the trigger, certainly would suggest she did,” Granger smirked.
Foster’s chest rose as he took a deep breath. “What is it about working at the Secret Intelligence Service that creates irritating individuals like you and Faulkner-Brown?”
Granger held up his hands. “Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I appreciate Faulkner-Brown didn’t cooperate, and that he undermined your investigation, but he’s a nonconformist working to his own rules. He’s old school. We’re not. We’re here to assist and share information.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to say anything else, but he sang that tune, and then did as he pleased. Including, trying to murder Woods.”
“Yes, I realise that, and we’re led to believe he’s fled the country along with Hilton Dudley. We want them caught and brought back to face justice. And we want Williams and Barnes apprehended. There’s no desire for anything else.”
Foster didn’t believe him. Following his dealings with Faulkner-Brown, his trust in the intelligence service was at an all-time low. At this moment in time he needed to take control of the murder scene, establish exactly what had happened there and why Maria Barnes had allegedly shot the former MP. Notwithstanding that, he also needed to speak to Woods. “I want to take a look inside,” he said, his tone indicating he was going in no matter what.
“Sure, you’ll need to get coveralls on,” Granger replied, turning to Chow, who he instructed should fetch a set from the car. “Our forensic team’s inside, gathering evidence.”
“Your forensic team! This is a police investigation!”
“The Home Secretary insists we work together. Combine our efforts. You’ll get total cooperation from us.”
Chow returned. “Large,” he said, offering a grip-sealed bag.
Foster suited up. He looked to Granger. “Why didn’t you call me the minute you knew they were in the building?”
“We were setting up station and assessing the area when events took off. We went straight in. Williams and Barnes had gone.”
“I’ll be interested to view the timeline from Guilford-Johnston’s shooting to when the Manchester police arrived to check on the building. You see, what I’m having difficulty with is why you didn’t call me and what you’ve been doing in the meantime.” Foster didn’t wait for a response he went straight into the building and upstairs to view the crime scene.