loud, ‘“Allan, you bastard”.’ He looked at Brock in astonishment. ‘What does that mean? He got the wrong man? He meant to kill someone called Allan?’
‘How could he?’ Brock said. ‘He was three feet away. How could he mistake Springer for someone else?’
‘Hang on,’ the Special Branch man broke in. ‘Suppose he wasn’t speaking in English? I’m thinking, could it be “Allah” instead of “Allan”, like “Allah-u-Akbar” maybe? “God is most great”. It’s the traditional call to prayer, and it’s also the battle cry of the shaheed, the religious martyrs. Saddam Hussein had it stitched onto the Iraqi flag during the Gulf War.’
‘That sounds more like it. And that would mean that we’re looking for someone who speaks Arabic.’
‘Interesting,’ Wayne said. ‘Very interesting. I guess you want what I can give you on London activists, then, Brock?’
‘I believe we do, Wayne. And let’s keep this to ourselves for the moment. If we’re right, this is going to be explosive.’
That afternoon Brock returned to the university campus to check on the progress of the more rigorous search of Springer’s room which was going on, in parallel with a similar search of the philosopher’s home, a modest semi in the Essex suburbs. While he was talking to the searchers, warning them to inform him immediately they came across anything with an Islamic connotation, there was a discreet cough at his back and he turned to see the University President’s Executive Officer standing in the corridor, regarding them with a quiet smile. Brock wondered how long the young man had been there.
‘Pardon me, but Professor Young heard that you were on campus, Chief Inspector, and wondered if he might have a word, when you’re free.’
‘I’m busy here at the moment.’
‘Of course. Shall I say an hour?’
‘All right.’ Brock turned back to a pile of papers he had been studying. They were handwritten notes, in Springer’s almost indecipherable scrawl, for lectures or essays.
An hour later he was shown into the President’s office. Young sat in shirtsleeves in front of the broad window, the view even more distracting in daylight, studying a single document on his otherwise paperless desk. The impression given was that a vast support apparatus of filing systems and office drones must exist in order to sustain this emptiness and space, leaving the great man uncluttered, free to take decisive action. Brock thought of the contrast with Springer’s tip, or, come to that, his own untidy office. Against the bright panorama it was difficult to make out Young’s expression as he raised his eyes, a significant few seconds after Brock had entered the room.
‘Take a seat, Chief Inspector. Thanks for coming up. I thought I’d better take the opportunity to be briefed on current progress. I’m told that you’re pursuing an interesting line of inquiry.’
‘Are you?’
‘You’re looking for Islamic connections, I understand.’
Brock didn’t try to hide his annoyance. ‘That’s just one of a number of things we’re checking on.’
‘But what on earth leads you in that direction, may I ask?’ he said smoothly, unfazed by Brock’s obvious reluctance.
Brock began to frame a suitable phrase to mind his own damn business, then thought better of it. The man might, after all, be aware of something relevant. ‘If I could have your assurance that this won’t go beyond this room for the moment, Professor Young. The inquiry is speculative at this stage.’
Young waved a hand dismissively, as if the demand were insulting. ‘Of course.’
‘It seems that Professor Springer may have received a threatening message of some kind during the past month, possibly from someone of extreme Islamic views. And in the lecture he was about to give when he was killed, he apparently intended to attack religious fundamentalists in uncompromising terms.’
‘Oh, dear. Max was prone to that sort of thing, I have to
‘How could he?’ Brock said. ‘He was three feet away. How could he mistake Springer for someone else?’
‘Hang on,’ the Special Branch man broke in. ‘Suppose he wasn’t speaking in English? I’m thinking, could it be “Allah” instead of “Allan”, like “Allah-u-Akbar” maybe? “God is most great”. It’s the traditional call to prayer, and it’s also the battle cry of the shaheed, the religious martyrs. Saddam Hussein had it stitched onto the Iraqi flag during the Gulf War.’
‘That sounds more like it. And that would mean that we’re looking for someone who speaks Arabic.’
‘Interesting,’ Wayne said. ‘Very interesting. I guess you want what I can give you on London activists, then, Brock?’
‘I believe we do, Wayne. And let’s keep this to ourselves for the moment. If we’re right, this is going to be explosive.’
That afternoon Brock returned to the university campus to check on the progress of the more rigorous search of Springer’s room which was going on, in parallel with a similar search of the philosopher’s home, a modest semi in the Essex suburbs. While he was talking to the searchers, warning them to inform him immediately they came across anything with an Islamic connotation, there was a discreet cough at his back and he turned to see the University President’s Executive Officer standing in the corridor, regarding them with a quiet smile. Brock wondered how long the young man had been there.
‘Pardon me, but Professor Young heard that you were on campus, Chief Inspector, and wondered if he might have a word, when you’re free.’
‘I’m busy here at the moment.’
‘Of course. Shall I say an hour?’
‘All right.’ Brock turned back to a pile of papers he had been studying. They were handwritten notes, in Springer’s almost indecipherable scrawl, for lectures or essays.
An hour later he was shown into the President’s office. Young sat in shirtsleeves in front of the broad window, the view even more distracting in daylight, studying a single document on his otherwise paperless desk. The impression given was that a vast support apparatus of filing systems and office drones must exist in order to sustain this emptiness and space, leaving the great man uncluttered, free to take decisive action. Brock thought of the contrast with Springer’s tip, or, come to that, his own untidy office. Against the bright panorama it was difficult to make out Young’s expression as he raised his eyes, a significant few seconds after Brock had entered the room.
‘Take a seat, Chief Inspector. Thanks for coming up. I thought I’d better take the opportunity to be briefed on current progress. I’m told that you’re pursuing an interesting line of inquiry.’
‘Are you?’
‘You’re looking for Islamic connections, I understand.’
Brock didn’t try to hide his annoyance. ‘That’s just one of a number of things we’re checking on.’
‘But what on earth leads you in that direction, may I ask?’ he said smoothly, unfazed by Brock’s obvious reluctance.
Brock began to frame a suitable phrase to mind his own damn business, then thought better of it. The man might, after all, be aware of something relevant. ‘If I could have your assurance that this won’t go beyond this room for the moment, Professor Young. The inquiry is speculative at this stage.’
Young waved a hand dismissively, as if the demand were insulting. ‘Of course.’
‘It seems that Professor Springer may have received a threatening message of some kind during the past month, possibly from someone of extreme Islamic views. And in the lecture he was about to give when he was killed, he apparently intended to attack religious fundamentalists in uncompromising terms.’
‘Oh, dear. Max was prone to that sort of thing, I have to
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