The meeting broke up shortly afterwards and I brought Berrin further up to date with my extracurricular enquiries as we sat at our desks. He also looked vaguely sceptical and said something about it all sounding ‘a bit obscure’, but, in the absence of anything else, I was determined to press ahead with what I had. The important thing initially was for us to track down Martin Leppel, the man who could tell us more about Contracts International. I got Berrin to check police records and liaise with Special Branch and the NCIS to see if they had anything on him, while I phoned round journalist contacts to see if any of them could dig up an address.
It didn’t take long to strike gold. Roy Shelley, a local scribe who was well known to the station’s CID, had taken barely half an hour to come up with the goods. Now a leading reporter on one of the nationals, he told me that Contracts International had been disbanded in 1997 after some financial irregularities and an unwelcome TV investigation into alleged illegal arms shipments to Liberia, but that Leppel was now running an outfit called Secure Consultants from an office in Moorgate. I wrote down the address and telephone number.
‘Apparently it deals with much the same thing as Contracts did,’ Roy told me. ‘Supplying ex-soldiers abroad to provide training for the natives, and also hostage negotiators for kidnappings and the like. It’s much smaller than Contracts was, and I think it’s probably a lot more above board as well. Leppel got his fingers burnt last time. He hasn’t got a record as such, but he came close to it.’
‘Any information on what he’s like?’ I asked. ‘Is he a crook?’
Shelley chuckled. ‘Now if I answer that, I might be done for slander. How come you want to know anyway?’
‘I might have a story for you.’
‘A good one?’
‘I’m not sure. But I promise if anything comes of it you’ll be the first to know.’
‘That’s what I like to hear. To answer your question, he’s not a hundred per cent kosher, but from what I understand he’s not an out-and-out villain either. He’s like a lot of people, Mr Gallan. Tries to stay on the right side of the law because it’s easier that way, but doesn’t let it stand in the way of a money-making opportunity.’
I thanked him and, after promising once again to inform him immediately if a story presented itself, rang off.
‘All right, Dave, we’ve got him,’ I said, and rang the number Shelley had given me.
It was answered on the third ring by a well-spoken male voice, stating the company’s name. I asked to speak to Martin Leppel. ‘Speaking,’ came the crisp reply.
I introduced myself and explained why I was phoning. ‘I’d like to have a chat with you with regard to one of your former employees at Contracts International.’
‘Contracts was wound up years ago,’ he answered brusquely, clearly not wanting to waste time speaking to the police.
‘I’m aware of that, sir, but you may have information that would be of use to us. It’ll only take up ten minutes of your time.’
‘I don’t see why I should help, DS Gallan, since the police have never done anything to help me. Most of the time I’m being harassed by members of Scotland Yard who appear to have bugger all better to do than try to ruin the reputations and livelihoods of perfectly respectable businessmen.’
I remembered Neil Vamen saying much the same thing. It made me wonder sometimes whether they did in fact actually believe it. ‘Any co-operation you give will be favourably viewed, sir, and, as I said, it’ll only take up a very small amount of your time.’
‘What type of investigation is it?’
‘Murder.’
‘All right. I’ve got a meeting in the West End this afternoon but I’m free after that. Come to my office at five o’clock and I’ll see you then. I presume you know where to come?’
‘We do indeed, sir. Thank you very much.’
Leppel grunted something and hung up.
The offices of Secure Consultants were on the sixth floor of a grand-looking City building on a road off London Wall. I rang the bell next to a polished brass plaque with the company name and logo on it and Berrin and I were buzzed through the door without preamble. A lift opposite took us up to the sixth floor where we were met by Martin Leppel, a short but fit-looking individual with an aquiline nose and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and what looked like a regimental tie, and his thin, slightly weathered face was deeply suntanned. He nodded in greeting and we shook hands all round.
He led us through a glass door emblazoned with the company name, then through a small reception area which was unmanned (Leppel explained that his secretary had the day off) and into his spacious office that looked out on to the street. Photographs of various men in military uniforms, including a large one of Leppel in officer’s garb holding a regimental sword, adorned the walls. It set off the right image of a man with a very strong army background.
Leppel took a seat behind his imposing and spotless desk and motioned for the two of us to sit in chairs opposite. He didn’t offer us a drink. ‘So, what can I do for you, gentlemen?’ he asked, getting straight to the point.
‘We’re after some information regarding Contracts International’s involvement in the Bosnian conflict.’
‘Can I ask why you need this information?’
‘We’re investigating a murder and it might be that an employee or employees of the company working in Bosnia at that time could throw some light on an area we’re still a bit hazy on.’
‘Which is?’
‘I can’t tell you that, sir. Not at this time.’
‘Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t in Bosnia. I’ve never been to any of the Yugoslav republics in my life.’
I could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. ‘But you managed the company, which is why we’re here today. Now, as I said to you on the phone, this shouldn’t take long.’
‘What is it you want to know?’
‘How long were Contracts International involved in Bosnia?’
‘We got our first contract in October 1993 when it became obvious that the West was going to stand by and watch the Muslim population suffer. It was to train regulars of the Armija BiH.’
‘The who?’ asked Berrin.
‘The Bosnian Muslim army. The contract was successful and we were awarded a number of others. We remained in situ until the Dayton Peace Agreement in December 1995.’
‘I heard suggestions that some of your operatives on the ground remained after this time.’
‘You heard wrong, then,’ said Leppel icily. ‘There were, aside from our employees, freelancers in the area providing a similar if somewhat inferior service to ours. They were the ones who stayed on after the ceasefire. As soon as Dayton came about, our contracts were terminated and we left.’
‘Could you tell me who funded the work your company did in Bosnia?’
‘Plenty of people have written that we were funded by all kinds of fanatics, but they’re wrong. However, I’m afraid I have always treated my client list, both at Contracts and at Secure Consultants, as confidential, so I’m not going to comment on that.’
I nodded. ‘Fair enough. Can you recall how many employees you had in Bosnia in total during the two or so years you were there?’
Leppel thought about it for a moment. It looked like he was making calculations. ‘I would say something like forty altogether, though it’s possible it could have been more. Bosnia was one of our biggest operations at Contracts.’