It was 11 p.m., turnout time at the port’s Dolphin Tavern. Jago selected this time as the noise of the drunken revellers would provide sufficient background noise to cover his unannounced visit to the office where Kim worked. The guards would be used to the noise and their guard would be down for a short period of time. The office, situated in a part of the port, had been made into an independent compound within the north side of the port. Its perimeter was formed with six old shipping containers, with the remainder comprising of temporary fencing — the type with concrete feet and panel clamps. The office was housed on stilts with space for parking below, the height of the office providing uninterrupted views of the port.
Atop a container, Jago waited for the guard to disappear to the other side of the compound before stealthily dropping down onto the concrete. He bent down, listening for anyone close. It was quiet. He moved in the shadows to the stairs leading to the office and climbed them at speed. Within seconds, he had entered the office, his arms outstretched and high holding a dark, lightweight piece of material that obscured his face and torso. He approached the lens of the small CCTV camera and promptly placed a couple of post it notes over the lens. He then applied a couple of pieces of sellotape to them.
He made for Kim’s workstation, knowing its position from her description of the office layout. She’d also given him the passwords to the computer system. He fired up Kim’s computer and started a rapid download onto a portable hard drive. He then moved to the manager’s desk and repeated the action on a separate hard drive. Jago scanned the walls and photographed all of the maps and charts. All three filing cabinets were unlocked and he rifled through them while the downloads were taking place. Most of the paperwork seemed straight forward but he photographed a number of files for checking. He then came across one folder marked ‘The Mazu Project’. Inside were numerous Chinese documents and lots of photos. He recorded the contents and, in doing so, came across photos of the dead man, Ian, and Kim and her friend Katie.
Jago heard a noise. There were voices outside and they were getting more animated and seemingly closer.
The downloads were ready to disconnect and he tucked them safely into the pouches at the back of his utility belt. The voices were now fast approaching. Jago calmly moved to the back of the office, slid open the window and leapt onto the roof of a container. As he landed, he set off a smoke canister to cover his getaway.
***
Jago returned to his team’s base, commonly known by the team as the Ranch.
“Hi Bernie, here are the hard drives and photos that I need analysing asap.”
“Okay, Boss. Will do. Abi and I will get onto it immediately.”
“There’s obviously something awry there and I need to put a stop to it before someone else gets killed. Do we know what the post mortem on Kim’s friend, Ian, has revealed?”
“Apart from the obvious death by drowning. He suffered a number of non-life-threatening injuries consistent with having been tortured, multiple cigarette burns, electrical contact burns, and the soles of his feet had been badly beaten.”
“Do we have any timings?”
“He drowned about ten to twelve hours before being found and the injuries took place about the same time. It’s possible that he may have been unconscious prior to that as there was bruising around the area of the right temporal lobe. At least I hope that he was unconscious. I couldn’t think of anything worse.”
“Was Ian working on the Duke’s Crown?”
“No, he was due to work on the Mandurah Princess but never showed up. They set sail at 2359 hours the day before yesterday.”
“Then he was grabbed and held somewhere before being tied. Have the police got any CCTV footage?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Get Abi to see if she can access any CCTV from the area. Let’s see what turns up.”
Jago paused in thought before asking, “Do we know what the Mandurah Princess’ cargo manifest was?”
“I don’t know, but I can check with customs.”
“Okay, by the way, where is Abi?”
“Oh, she’s on one of her six-monthly checks at the hospital. She’ll be glad of the tasks when she returns to take her mind off things.”
“Oh, I see. Keep an eye on her, will you? She’s been through a lot.”
“Of course, Boss. That goes without saying.”
“Right, I’m going to make a drink before I go out. Do you want one? Coffee, milk and two sugars, right?”
“You got it, Boss, that’d be great.”
***
Jago rode his Stealth Hawk motorcycle along London’s Oxford Street and turned into North Audley Street, past a couple of red telephone boxes, and a row of shops and cafes. And then he was in Grosvenor Square, the site of the old US Embassy. He rode around the Square into South Audley Street. He was looking for 68a. He found it and parked his bike and secured his helmet to it. He was outside some shops on Mount Street and made his way to the office on foot via Mount Street Gardens. While standing in the doorway, he read the brass plaque beside the front door.
A.S. MARINE INTELLIGENCE SERVICES.
He pressed a button on the video entry system. “This is Jack Jago to see Robert Hogg.”
After a moment, a voice boomed over the intercom, “Hello, Mr Jago, come on up. We’re on the second floor, first door on the right. Mr Hogg will be with shortly.”
A buzz signalled the opening of the door which Jago pushed. As he ascended the stairway, he looked at the old paintings of ships that were hung every five stairs and along the corridors.
Jago knocked and entered. The mainly open plan office was bright and airy, with contemporary furnishings giving the impression of modernism. There were two glass meeting pods close to the doorway. Jago approached the reception desk.
“I’m here to see Robert Hogg. Do I need to sign in?”
“Good afternoon, Sir. Please sign here,” replied a young woman opening a leather-bound book to a page.
There were three names above his — Gough, Stowe and Van Dooren. He mentally registered them before signing in himself.
“Please take a seat and Mr Hogg will be out shortly. Would you care for a tea or coffee while you wait?” She stood with some empty bone china cups waiting for his response.
“A black coffee would be good, thank you.”
Jago watched the woman as she headed to the kitchen area. She was about thirty and tall with long, auburn hair that was tied back in a pony tail. She wore a pencil-style skirt which accentuated her shapely curves, and a short-sleeved blouse. He’d already noted that she wasn’t wearing a ring. He picked up one of the many shipping magazines and flicked through its pages. He wasn’t reading it; it was more of something to do.
The woman returned with his coffee. “There you are, Mr Jago.” Jago cut in, “Call me Jago, just Jago.” He smiled at her and she reciprocated.
“Well, Jago, I was going to add that I’ve given you a couple of our scrumptious cookies too.”
“That’s very nice of you. May I ask if you have plans for dinner this evening?”
“My, Jago, you are very forward. You have only been in the building ten minutes.”
“I like to seize opportunities. They may not come around again. When I see a woman that I’m attracted to, it would be stupid of me not to ask her out. I mean, I’m not going to have a meeting here every day.”
Having made his point, he stopped talking, waiting for a reply.
She looked at him and smiled, embarrassed but flattered at the same time.
“As it happens, I do have plans, but you can pick me up afterwards if you want?”
“Just tell me where and when, and I’ll be there.”
“Peace and Pilates on Lupus Street, Pimlico at 7.30.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. Whereabouts on Lupus Street is the studio?”
“I’m sure that you’re very resourceful. You’ll find it okay.”
As they finished speaking, the familiar tone of Robert Hogg could be heard. He walked past Jago as he was seeing a client off after a meeting.
The gentle giant turned and extended his arm to shake Jago’s hand. “Long time no see my friend. How are you? You look in good shape. Come on in to my office, we can chat there. I see that Sue has made you a coffee. Oh, and you get biscuits too!” He smiled and faced Sue. “Would you mind making me a coffee please?”
“Yes, of course, Mr Hogg.”
***
Jago scanned Hogg’s office. It was sparse save for a desk and two chairs. There was one small filing cabinet and safe in the corner of the room. An omnidirectional microphone hung in the centre of the room. Hogg clocked Jago looking at it. “Don’t worry, it’s not on. I only record client meetings and I’m guessing that you’re not a client, at this stage at least?”
“That’s true, Robert. It must be ten years since we’ve seen each other. Was it in Afghan or Iraq, I can’t remember?”
“It was in Afghan, we passed each other. You were going on the chopper to a god forsaken place that I’d just left. I think that we spoke for about five minutes, no more than that. But as I see you today, it’s as if it were only yesterday that we were in commando training together.”
“Yes, I know what you mean.”
Both men knew that they could only engage in small talk until the coffee had been delivered. And after Sue left, they got down to business.
“I know that this isn’t a social call, so how I can I help you, Jago?”
“I need some shipping intelligence. More specifically, I need some intelligence regarding a ship called the Mandurah Princess, and any of its sister ships. Who owns them, who their customers are, origins and destinations, dates and times in the last two years; you know pretty much anything and everything about them.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult. I can get you a report drawn up in twenty-four hours. I’m sure that you’ll understand that I’ll have to charge though. I need to use an analyst and that flags up a charge.”
Jago reached into his pocket. “That’s no problem. Just send the invoice to the email address on this card. Oh, and one other thing. I’d like some discreet information on a company by the name of Pontus Freight Forwarding Limited. Does the name mean anything to you?”
Hogg pondered before replying, “I can’t say that it does. Can I ask what your interest is in the company?”
Jago thought that this was a strange question as ex-colleagues wouldn’t normally pry. So he tucked away the comment for further digestion.
“Nothing really. I have a client that’s come into a bit of money and that was one company that caught their fancy. I just thought that while I was here asking for the other stuff that you might know something that would make it a safer investment, or not, depending upon the information. You know, are they compliant, consistently busy, growing, et cetera.”
“I’ll certainly have a look, although it may take a few days.”
“That’s fine, I’m in no rush. Like I said, it was an opportune moment. Anyway, it was good to briefly catch up. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I’d better be going.”
“Maybe we could go for a beer sometime when you’re back in the city. Do you visit often?”
“Only when my work dictates really. But I’ll take you up on that the next time I’m over here.”
Hogg stood to let Jago out.
“Don’t worry, I can see myself out.”
As Jago left the office he faced Sue and, instead of talking to her, he made a gesture pointing to his watch and left the building.
***
Hogg picked up the phone and made an internal call. “Jim, I want you to follow the man who just left and report back to me only.”
Jim responded, “I’m on my way now.”
Jim was a slim, clean-shaven man in his mid-thirties. He leapt out of his chair and ran to the front of the building. Pausing by a window, he caught sight of Jago who was walking at a moderate pace. Jim rapidly descended the staircase and exited the building. He looked left and saw that Jago was up ahead, about forty metres away on the opposite side of the road. He was drawing level with Grosvenor Chapel, a simple yet imposing building. Jim followed at a distance.
Seeing that the main blue chapel doors were open, Jago entered. He went through the glass panelled doors and waited to one side. He spied Jim lurking over the road. Jim reluctantly passed the chapel but loitered nearby. Jago casually passed through the chapel and entered the rear of the building. He exited into a small courtyard and took a run at the six-foot brick wall, heaving himself easily over it into Mount Street Gardens. He swiftly crossed the gardens, located his motorcycle and took off into the city traffic, all the time keeping watch in his rear-view mirrors.