Michael Walters - The Shadow Walker

The Minister gave a minute shake of his head. “We were not told,” he said. “Ransom’s visa was provided on the basis of his work in the north.”

Nergui turned to Wilson. “So Mr. Ransom was also acting illegally. Was the UK government aware of this?”

Wilson looked pained. “We were not informed officially,” he said. “But I can’t pretend that we were entirely unaware. Mr. Ransom had something of a reputation as a troubleshooter in such matters.”

“So are you telling us,” Nergui said, “that Ransom’s killing was in some way connected to the tensions you are talking about?”

Wilson shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But it was Ransom’s death that brought me out here. We didn’t know what was behind it, but it set alarm bells ringing. I wanted to find out more about the state of play in the consortium. Make sure that our interests were protected.”

Nergui stared at him. He turned to the Minister. “I take it we were not aware of this either? Or did you just decide not to share it with me?”

“Nergui,” the Minister said, “we were aware of none of this. Of course I would not have kept this kind of information from you. Not in the circumstances.”

Nergui knew only too well that, in all circumstances, the Minister would share only what he chose to share. But it was difficult to believe that he would not have been open in this case.

“Which means,” Nergui said to Wilson, “that you are also traveling illegally, in that you lied on your visa application about your reasons for entering the country.”

“Not entirely,” Wilson said. “I indicated on my application that, although I was accompanying my wife on her research visit, I would also take the opportunity to consult with the ambassador and other UK representatives about trade matters. I just didn’t specify the nature of the consultations.”

“Nergui,” the Minister said, “I can see no point in raking over the question of whether Professor Wilson is here legally or not. I would have preferred a greater degree of openness, but that time is now past.”

“I had no intention to deceive,” Wilson said. “I merely wanted my entry into the country to be as low-key as possible. I did not know-I still do not know for sure-what interests are involved here, and I wanted, as far as possible, to observe without being observed.”

“The fact remains,” Nergui said, “that in effect you have withheld evidence that might have helped us progress more quickly in identifying Ransom’s killer. Your information, at the very least, provides a possible motive for the murder, which to date has been missing.” He paused. “If we’d been able to act more quickly, we might have prevented further murders. And,” he added, “Chief Inspector McLeish might still be with us.”

Wilson nodded slowly. “I know. I understand that. That’s why I’m here. When I heard that the Chief Inspector was missing-well, I realized it was not appropriate for me to keep my silence any longer.”

Appropriate, Nergui thought. Brutal serial killings, a potential kidnap. And this man talks about what is appropriate.

“Let me be straight,” Wilson said. “My concern is a simple one. Some of the interests involved in the project are, I believe, dangerous ones. I do not know precisely who is involved, but we know the kinds of organizations. And I suspect that some of those involved would be more than capable of murder.”

“So you think that Ransom was murdered because of his involvement in the project?”

“I think it’s a possibility. Why he was killed, I’ve no idea. Whether he had some knowledge, some information-”

“And why was he killed in such a brutal manner?” Nergui said. “If these interests are as you say, then his killing would have been carried out professionally. There would have been no need for such a display. He would have been simply spirited away.”

“Like Chief Inspector McLeish?”

Nergui nodded. “Exactly like Chief Inspector McLeish.” Nergui paused for a moment. “Professor, I am sorry to be rude but I would very much like to speak to the Minister alone for a few minutes.”

The Minister looked as if he was about to interrupt, but Wilson said, “Of course. I understand entirely. I will wait outside.”

“Thank you,” the Minister said, looking at Nergui. “We will just be a few minutes, I think.”

As soon as Wilson had closed the door behind him, the Minister said, “I don’t want to hear your views, Nergui. We have to take this seriously.”

“I’m not suggesting for one moment that we don’t take it seriously,” Nergui said. “But I’m not at all clear what it means. Why should we trust Wilson?”

“He is here representing the British government.”

“He’s here under false pretenses, carrying out unauthorized inquiries into a UK citizen who was also working here under false pretenses. He has withheld information relevant to a major murder inquiry. And not through any ignorance, either-when I spoke to him the other night it was quite clear that he knew full well how serious this was. He’s only spoken up now because McLeish’s disappearance could expose a major scandal. So why should we trust him? We don’t know what his agenda is. We only know that he’s lied to us, to the authorities, from the beginning.”

“Nergui, you’re experienced enough to understand the politics behind all this. You know we’ve had concerns about the funding of the project in the south. We’ve turned a blind eye because of the importance of the project, that’s all-we needed the investment.”

“Of course, and we’ll take money from anywhere if the price is right. I understand that well enough.”

The Minister shook his head, looking as if his patience was wearing thin. “Nergui, it is not your place to be questioning government policy. Your role is to maintain law and order-a role you’ve singly failed to carry out in this case, as far as I can see.”

“It is not easy to carry out that role if information is being withheld from me.”

“Nergui, you are drifting into dangerous waters here. Respected as you are, like everyone else you hold your position in the Ministry through my patronage. There are people out there who would be only too pleased to see you fall-”

“I take that for granted.”

“I know your strengths, Nergui. I value your intellect, your honesty, your perception. These qualities are not common in an organization comprised largely of incompetent yes-men. But I need you on my side.”

“In that case, you have to trust me. I can’t operate if I don’t know who or what to believe.”

“Nergui, believe me, I knew nothing of Wilson’s story until this evening.”

“I believe that.” Nergui smiled. “If only because it must be a painful admission for you. It is disturbing to find that for all our intelligence work, there are things we are unaware of.”

“It is very disturbing, Nergui. If there is any truth in Wilson’s suppositions, it suggests we have a potentially very unstable situation in the south. If these people are prepared to act in this way-”

“But, I’m asking again, are we right to trust Wilson? He tells us that, for reasons unknown, he believes Ransom might have been murdered by-what? Organized crime? The Russian mafia? The triads? And they choose to kill Ransom in such a brutal way? I’m not sure if the story makes any sense.”

“It depends on what might lie behind the murder,” the Minister said. If what we’re seeing here is a series of eye-for-an-eye killings-the kind of gang feud that we speculated about-then maybe a high profile killing makes sense.’

“Well, maybe. But Ransom’s was the fourth murder, at least as far as we know. So who are we suggesting started this round of killings-the Brits?”