The Invisible Assassin(32)

She was on time. Ten minutes later, Jake’s phone rang.

‘Your guest has arrived,’ said reception. ‘A Miss Penny Johnson.’

‘Tell her I’m on my way down,’ said Jake.

As he headed down to the ground floor, he wondered what story she wanted to see him about. It had to do with the dig, and whatever had been dug up. But the case had been dealt with, first by Algy, and then by Paul and others in the press office: it was a release of toxic gas, and the canister had been removed for safety to a research establishment, where it was being checked. So why had she gone to all the trouble of coming in to London from Bedfordshire, and to see him specifically?

Penny Johnson was standing by the reception desk, waiting for him.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You said you had a story?’

Johnson nodded.

‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ she asked.

Jake gave a rueful shrug.

‘If you want to talk privately, everything upstairs is open-plan,’ he apologised. He gestured towards a dark leather settee at one side of the large reception hall.

‘Down here is fine,’ said Johnson, and she walked to the settee, Jake following. Once they were sitting down she said, ‘There was a stir at Hadley Park Research Establishment last night.’

Warning bells sounded in Jake’s mind. Hadley Park, he thought. This isn’t about the dig, it’s about the break-in. He kept his face as bland as he could.

‘So I understand.’ He nodded. ‘Animal Rights campaigners freeing rabbits.’

‘That’s what the press release says.’

‘Their own press release,’ pointed out Jake.

‘Interestingly enough, I can’t find anyone who’s ever heard of this outfit, MAAT, before.’

Jake shrugged.

‘That’s the way it is with subversive organisations: there are new ones springing up all the time. Most of them breaking away from bigger outfits.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘Like in Life of Brian: the Judean Liberation Front and their mortal enemies, the Liberation Front of Judea.’

‘So, this is a new organisation?’ she asked.

Immediately, Jake grew cautious. ‘They may be new,’ he said. ‘I’d have to check with our archives.’ Then he frowned. ‘Anyway, I understand the research establishment where the break-in occurred is in Buckinghamshire. You work for the Bedfordshire Times.’

‘It’s just over the county border,’ responded Johnson. ‘At that point three counties connect: Beds, Bucks and Herts, all within the radius of a few miles. It’s hard to separate them as far as news stories are concerned. People from Beds live and work in Bucks and Herts, and vice versa.’

Jake shrugged again.

‘Anyway, all I can do is repeat the official line,’ he said. ‘Animal Rights campaigners broke in and freed some rabbits.’

‘So it was nothing to do with the Order of Malichea,’ she said.

Jake stared at her, momentarily stunned, a feeling of panic welling up inside him. For what seemed like an eternity, he couldn’t breathe. Finally he forced his mouth into what he hoped looked like a smile and gave a chuckle.

‘Look . . .’ he began, doing his best to look both puzzled and amused. It didn’t work. She shook her head.

‘It’s no good,’ Johnson said. ‘I saw the look in your eyes at the mention of the name. Panic. Why?’

Jake shook his head firmly.

‘I wasn’t panicking,’ he said. ‘It was just . . . surprise. The name came up recently in some research . . .’

‘Nonsense,’ said Johnson. She leant forward. ‘I can help you,’ she whispered.

‘Help me what?’ asked Jake, still desperately hanging on to his pretence that he hadn’t got the faintest idea what she was talking about.

‘A book was dug up at that site,’ Johnson told him coolly. ‘It was taken to Hadley Park. Last night, someone got into Hadley Park and took the book.’

Jake looked her squarely in the face.

‘Where do you get all this from?’ he asked. ‘What book?’

‘The book needs to go back to its rightful owners,’ said Johnson.

Jake stared at her, bewildered.

‘Its rightful owners?’ he echoed.

Johnson nodded.

Jake shook his head, bewildered. Really bewildered.

‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ he said.

‘You will,’ said Johnson. She looked at her watch. ‘I have to go.’ She took a card from her bag and handed it to Jake. ‘These are my contact numbers. You can get hold of me any time, twenty-four hours a day.’ As Jake took it, she looked him firmly in the eyes and said, ‘If you haven’t got the book, you need to tell whoever has it that it must be returned. I can arrange that. But it must be soon. It mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.’