She rang their head office – she was slightly nervous as this was going to be a difficult phone conversation and she didn’t want to tip them off that she was from the police. ‘May I please speak to the person dealing with the property company PREH?’
The receptionist hesitated.
‘Oliver Stone, our managing director, looks after their agency deals and William Wesson deals with their valuations.’
‘I’d like to speak to Mr Wesson then, please.’
There was a short wait before Kate was put through to his secretary. A curt voice said, ‘Mr Wesson is out of the office and isn’t expected back until after lunch – I suggest you ring back then.’ The secretary hung up.
Kate rang back and asked to speak to Oliver Stone, the MD. After another wait she was put through to his personal assistant.
‘Mr Stone is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed.’
‘It is important.’
The PA was firm in her reply. ‘Mr Stone has left me strict instructions that he mustn’t be disturbed,’ and hung up.
Kate looked across at Rafi, ‘I wonder if it was the mention of the name PREH that made them so unhelpful?’
‘Quite possibly.’
Kate picked up the phone again and rang through to the switchboard.
‘Could you please put me through to Manchester Central?’
Kate spoke to the duty officer. ‘DI Adams here. Could you please put me through to one of your senior colleagues in Special Branch – counter-terrorism?’
A Detective Chief Inspector Rick Feldon picked up the phone.
‘Good morning, how can I help you?’
Kate introduced herself and explained what she was working on. ‘I have good reason to believe that a firm of surveyors, Dewoodson, who are based in Spring Gardens, have information on a property company, PREH, which is linked to our investigations. They are being uncooperative. As a matter of some urgency, I’m after a copy of the last valuation report, together with any other information available on PREH.’
‘Can you email me details of what you want?’
‘Will do.’
‘Also, Rick, please bear in mind that this needs to be done with diplomacy and very quietly. They can’t know we’re on to them. I could do with their MD, Oliver Stone, and their valuer, William Wesson, being interviewed and kept totally incommunicado for at least twenty-four hours.’
‘Sounds right up our street!’
There was a short silence before Rick said, ‘How’s about we pull them in on something else? Leave it with me, I’ll come up with something which will enable us to search their premises and confiscate their computers. My colleague, Phil Smith, and I will pick them up as soon as we get your email.’
It was nearly 10 a.m. on Thursday morning. Rafi had his fingers crossed that the valuation report would reveal more properties. If they, too, were close to energy targets it would confirm his suspicions and fill in valuable missing pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.
Their work was interrupted by a call from Colonel Matlik.
‘Hello, Colonel,’ said Kate, putting him on speakerphone.
‘Sorry for the delay – I had hoped to get back to you sooner. However, your leads have proved most fruitful. Are you sitting down?’ There was an ominous tone to his voice.
‘Er… Yes.’
‘My men have paid a visit to the firearm club which was owned by your former Mr Koit. They tried their hand at shooting on the 1,000-metre range. Behind the firing positions they spotted an area where the winter vegetation was partially scorched -the telltale signs of a missile launcher – and to the side of the targets was what seemed to be a demolished building. After their session they went to have a discrete look. It was not a building, but a concrete wall over two metres thick. Whatever had been fired at it had punched a hole straight through the concrete. It had been hit a couple of times, which explained why it looked such a mess. Beside the rubble, covered by a layer of soil, they found a three-metre by five-metre block of metal. It was made from fifty steel sheets, each two centimetres thick, which had been welded together. It was over one metre thick and it too had two gaping holes in it.’
‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Kate under her breath, but she let the Colonel continue.
‘I’ve been doing some research on what could cause such damage. We believe something like the Kornet E Anti-Tank Armour missile was used. It is an impressive piece of equipment and truly destructive if you are on the receiving end. It can blast a hole through one metre of armour; and not just steel armour, but explosive reactive armour. It’s the kit that gives the likes of you or me nightmares. In daylight its range is up to 5.5 kilometres and trained users can fire two missiles per minute. To add spice to its capabilities, it can be fitted with either tank busting or high explosive thermobaric warheads. It gets worse: it is very accurate as it has either thermal or optical sights to detect and track the target. And the launcher comes with a tripod – both are transportable.’
‘Would it need trained operatives to use it?’ enquired a horrified Kate.
‘One professional would do – though it would be like holding a tiger by its tail. One thing is for sure, though: it should not be fired in a confined space unless the operator wishes to have an early cremation.’
‘Can these missiles and the launchers be purchased on the black market?’
‘What can’t these days?’ replied the deep voice. ‘I reckon €50,000 would suffice.’
‘Very helpful and disturbing. Thank you,’ said Kate. ‘You have done a fantastic job…’ she was interrupted.
‘There is more. We brought in the warehouse manager earlier this morning on the grounds of committing a serious road traffic offence involving the death of a pedestrian. A tax inspector and two of my officers have been searching the warehouse and offices. Amongst the paperwork they found two interesting invoices: one was for five miscellaneous launchers, and another one for twenty miscellaneous missiles. The name of the purchaser was left blank. It was dated eleven days ago. The import manifest showed dealings with a private Russian company – Restaya – which is known to the Russian FSB and is believed to be involved in the black market arms trade.’
The colonel paused. ‘Unfortunately, I have some more bad news. The FSB tell me that several months ago pro-Chechen rebels captured a consignment of Kornet E Anti-Tank missiles -five launchers with optical sights and twenty missiles, to be precise.’
Kate was going to speak, but the colonel carried on.
‘I have interviewed the manager. He is pleading ignorance. He insists that he only looks after the day-to-day activities and doesn’t ask questions. The real decisions, he says, are made by his boss who he rarely sees. When I interrogated him further, it turned out he did not know to whom the missile launchers and missiles were sold, just that he delivered them to the same rifle range outside Tallinn that my colleagues visited. He described the size of the wooden crates and the lettering on them. Unfortunately, I can now confirm that they are a match for the missing Kornet missiles and launchers. We are keeping the manager in custody, and he will not be allowed to talk to outsiders. His secretary has been told of his driving accident and that he is being held pending a murder charge.’
‘How long can you hold him for without him seeing his solicitor?’ asked Kate.
‘As long as you like,’ came the reply, ‘now that we know he is involved with a major terrorist plot. Questions will be asked as to why he cannot speak to his solicitor in probably forty-eight hours. My team is currently going through the import/export agency’s paperwork with a fine-tooth comb to see whether any other armaments have recently passed through their hands. I will keep you informed of their progress.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kate.
‘That is not all. I have been looking into the fishing company you mentioned. It owns two deep sea trawlers, the Anu Riina and the Anu Maarja; they both operate out of Tallinn docks. Both are at sea – they left port a week ago. A reasonable assumption is that your Kornets were on board. We understand the vessels are somewhere north of the Faeroes. That is all for the moment. I will get in touch again as soon as we know anything else.’