Chris Simms - Savage Moon

'When was this?' asked Jon.

'Summer of last year.'

After he'd returned from Kenya, thought Jon.

'The tutor said Field had got all this stuff with him, letters, bits of library books, photocopies of pamphlets, all sorts. He said James was by far and away the most naturally intelligent offender he'd ever dealt with. He didn't mind helping him turn it into a coherent project. This is a copy of what they produced, the tutor kept it to use as an example for other offenders of what could be achieved with a little effort.'

The two officers began to distribute stapled batches of A4-size paper. As Jon picked his up he could feel they were still warm from the photocopier. When he saw the writing on the front cover, he felt the blood slow in his veins.

'Field titled it, “Kuririkana”,' Murray announced. 'As we all now know, it means “Remember” in Kikuyu, an African dialect.'

McCloughlin whistled. 'Talk about incriminating yourself. He may as well have just signed his own life stay in Broadmoor.' Murray smiled grimly. 'The tutor took us through the project. It's heavy stuff but, according to him, genuinely researched. If you look at the contents, you'll see it starts with a chapter called

Repressed People, you've then got Shoot to Kill, Breaking

Resistance, Murder Camps and lastly, State Lies.'

'We can all read, DC Murray,' McCloughlin butted in.

'We're also in a bloody hurry here. So just one thing. What the hell has this got to do with finding James Field?'

Murray looked uncomfortable. 'I don't know how it links to the killings so far. It's about the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya during the late fifties.'

'Try and give us a quick summary and we'll see if it rings any bells with what anyone else has got,' Summerby instructed.

'Right,' Murray replied. 'Repressed People is all about how the British claimed to be on a civilising mission when they invaded Kenya. In reality they were after its natural resources. They declared all of its land… erm, I forget the phrase.' He turned a couple of pages and his finger started tracing down.

'Here we go. Crown Land. Basically the Kikuyu and other tribes were shunted into reserves while fertile areas were given over to white colonists. These became known as the White Highlands. Most of it was the ancestral lands of the Kikuyu tribe. Eventually, they were allowed back on to farm it, but were paid a derisory amount and taxed on their huts. It was essentially a feudal system, not seen in Britain since the Norman Conquest almost a thousand years ago.'

'So the Empire sucked,' interrupted McCloughlin. 'Is this relevant?'

Jon glanced at Summerby. Come on, Sir. Don't let him start to take things over.

'Bear with us,' DC Murray replied. 'After World War Two, the Kikuyu started forming organisations to lobby for the return of their land. In nineteen fifty the authorities responded by arresting the leaders and banning many of the groups.'

McCloughlin sighed. 'In nineteen fifty. That's the last bloody century.'

Summerby's head jerked with irritation. 'It somehow connects to what we're dealing with today. Will you let my officers speak?'

Jon kept looking at Murray, but a small smile escaped him. About time, boss, he thought.

Murray looked back down at the page. 'The tutor underlined this bit, said it's quite pivotal.' He began to read. ' “The Kikuyu grew ever more rebellious and in October nineteen fifty-two a State of Emergency was declared. Thousands of British soldiers were brought in. When leaders such as Jomo Kenyatta were arrested, hundreds of Kikuyu nationalists fled for the forests of Mount Kenya to establish a resistance movement. They formed themselves into the Kenyan Land and Freedom Army. Members who'd fought with the British during the World War organised them into units, even allocating ranks including General.' ” Murray glanced up. 'They began attacking white property, then the settlers themselves.'

'Mau Mau. You're talking about the bloody Mau Mau, not a real army,' Summerby said.

'Sir, I'm only recapping what's in here,' Murray answered, beginning to sound exasperated. 'If you go to the last chapter called State Lies, you'll see that the jungle fighters never called themselves Mau Mau. No such word exists in the Kikuyu language. According to this, Mau Mau was a propaganda myth created by government press handouts devised in London. They depicted the insurgents as anti-European and anti-Christian, saying they were determined to seize power in Kenya. Mau Mau was meant to play on Western prejudices about witchdoctors, mumbo jumbo and jungle savages. Read it for yourself.' He turned to the last pages. 'Press releases talked about, “the bestial wave of Mau Mau”, murders were committed by “terrorists insatiable for blood”. The British press fell in line with the Government's stance, using words such as dark, satanic, fanatical, merciless, evil and primitive to describe them.'

McCloughlin shook his head. 'I think we're wasting valuable time with this… this version of history.'

Jon stirred in his seat. Time to shut you the fuck up. 'Actually, James Field's adoptive parents described how he flew back to Nairobi to meet members of his estranged family. That was in March two thousand and one, a year before he went back to his old teacher to write this project. We don't know much about his natural family, but his mum's surname was Gathambo. She was from the Kikuyu tribe. Somehow she ended up in this country, brought up by a white British couple called the Sullivans.'

Summerby's head went up and he shouted over to the office manager. 'Where's Adlon with the stuff from the social services? We need to know who the blazes James Field's real mother was.' The manager held up a hand. 'He just rang in. They're down in the archives now. The records are being dug out as we speak.' Jon sat back, glancing to his side as Rick let his copy of Field's project fall open at a page of images. 'Jesus Christ.'

'What?' said Jon, looking down. At the top were a couple of crude looking firearms, toy-like in their clumsy simplicity. The caption below read, ' KLFA weapons, from a display at the Imperial War Museum where they're referred to as Mau Mau rifles. '

Next was a photo of a black man lying on a blanket. The caption read, ' Field Marshal Dedan Kimathi, leader of the KLFA. Executed, February 19 th 1957.'

Alongside was a photo of the side of a plane, a line of little men with spears drawn on the fuselage. ' RAF decals during the war. '

Below that was an illustration of a naked man leaping through the air, deep shadow tactfully concealing his groin. Covering the top of his head and flapping outwards from his back was the pelt of a black panther. The animal's gaping mouth framed the man's face which, in turn, was midway through a fearsome looking shriek. Clutched in each hand was a terrible claw-like weapon.

' No act of savagery is beneath the bestial Mau Mau. ' In the very corner of the picture was a grouping of five letters. H.M.G.P.O.

'What is it?' Summerby demanded.

Rick's shoulders shivered momentarily. 'The weapons he's holding. They're identical to the ones James Field made.'

'Which weapons?'

'The ones from the garage he worked in. We radio'd for a car to bring over the plans he'd drawn before we drove down to Bollington.'

McCloughlin stood up. 'What's the name of the exhibits officer?'

'Sergeant Sheehan,' someone murmured.

'Sheehan, you fucking half wit. Anything interesting you'd like to share with us?'

An officer with tight wiry hair turned to a stack of evidence bags on his desk. 'Sir? I'm getting buried here, can you be more specific?' His cockney accent sounded out of place in the room.

'A big piece of paper. Like the ones you'll be doodling on down at the job centre.'