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put the report down as her thoughts drifted to Gunnymede. His pain had touched her. She looked at her computer screen. Her hands hovered above the keyboard. She pushed herself and went for it, hit a few keys and seconds later a tracking reference for Megan Henderson popped up. Bethan hit the link.

The preview page of a file appeared. A picture of Megan. Bethan clicked on it and, to her surprise, a banner appeared declaring access to the file contents was denied. She repeated the process with the same result.

She looked towards Dillon’s office. He was at his desk. She walked over and opened his door. He looked up long enough to see who it was and went back to typing. ‘Yes,’ he said.

She stepped inside and closed the door. ‘I’m looking at a case related to the British military homicides trend. While I was researching connections I ran into a restricted file.’

‘If it’s restricted there’s normally a good reason.’

‘What if it’s related to the case?’

‘What case?’

‘The one I’m looking at. There’s an SAS connection.’

‘You’re not making any sense,’ Dillon said, pausing.

‘I’m looking at a rape victim with an SAS connection.’

‘The trending pool I sent you is homicide not rape.’

‘This one’s not in the pool. It should be though. The victim died a few weeks after the rape. It was a motivated suicide, so that makes it a homicide.’

‘How old?’

‘Recent.’

‘None of the cases in the pool I sent you were recent.’

‘A woman was raped and committed suicide. Her father was SAS. That pool you sent me, most if not all of the perpetrators are or could be British special forces.’

‘That doesn’t quite fit, does it? She’s a victim whose father is military while the other cases are victims killed by military.’

‘Most of those cases were revenge where British Special Forces were possibly the avengers. This rape could be the catalyst to the next revenge.’

‘You’re talking about a future victim?’

‘Isn’t that what profile analysts are supposed to do, predict? The trend relationship is that all the victims were murdered because they somehow escaped justice for one reason or another. Mostly due to lack of evidence. What I’m saying is, if the man who raped this SAS soldier’s daughter avoids justice then he could become a victim.’

‘Has he avoided justice?’

‘Now you’re all caught up. That’s what I tried to find out. But when I tried to access the file I ran into access denied.’

‘I see – what do you want me to do?’

‘Pretend you’re my boss and help me.’

‘And now we come back to the beginning. It’s restricted for a reason. I don’t suppose you could get me a coffee, could you?’

‘The rape suicide victim was a twenty-six year old. Her name was Megan Henderson. She’s a former girlfriend of Devon Gunnymede. Gunnymede also knew Lamardi, the Afghan national security director who was murdered in Skopje with the same rifle that killed the Albanian border police.’

Dillon studied her while the revelations sunk home. ‘Pure coincidence,’ he decided.

‘My father said there’s no such thing as coincidences.’

‘He never said anything like that to me. Of course there are coincidences. I warned you about having conspiracy theories and now you have a Secret Service conspiracy theory.’

She fought to manage her frustration. ‘You can’t ignore this. If I’m wrong then we have nothing to lose. But if I’m right we have a chance at opening up these cases. Maybe all of them.’

He sighed heavily. She could see she was getting through to him.

‘Do you know anything about the rapist?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Maybe he hasn’t been found. Maybe he’s dead already. Maybe it’s a gang or a cult. Why is the file access denied? It would be nice to know.’

Dillon considered something. ‘Why do you think MI6 wanted one of their people to go to Albania with you?’

‘I have no idea. I’m certain Gunnymede knows more than he’s telling us. But then he’s a spy.’

‘Do you know who placed the restriction on the file?’

‘No.’

He took a few seconds more to absorb it all before facing his monitor. ‘Spell the name?’

‘Whose?’

‘The rape victim.’

‘Me-gan Hen-der-son.’

A new screen appeared. He accessed the file register. A moment later the file appeared with the same restriction banner. He typed an access code and another window appeared with the restrictor’s code. ‘S C & O 19.’

‘The UCs.’

‘I’ll talk with them.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow.’

She wasn’t satisfied, but it was the best she was going to get.

His mobile phone beeped. He looked at the message and got to his feet. ‘Got to go,’ he said as he left the room, holding the door open for her.

Before he walked away something occurred to him. ‘Are you seeing Gunnymede again?’

‘No plans to,’ she said.

‘Be wise to keep it that way, don’t you think,’ he said and walked away.

She watched him go thoughtfully.

Gunnymede walked through the main entrance to the MI6 building and encountered the first layer of substance detectors. On completion, he made his way to a reception counter and, after providing his details, was asked to wait in the foyer.

Two minutes later an intelligent looking young man in a blazer arrived on the other side of the internal security barrier and signalled for Gunnymede to come through. Gunnymede stepped into the secondary security layer, this time an array of more sensitive scanners. When he emerged on the other side, the young man greeted him. ‘Hello Mr Gunnymede. My name’s Bowden. I’m Mr Simons’ assistant.’

Gunnymede forced a brief smile.

‘Follow me, if you would,’ he said, setting off towards a glass barrier.

Gunnymede looked around as he walked through the lobby, deciding not much had changed other than a cluster of sci-fi looking probes in the ceiling.

Bowden used a pin code to access an elevator.

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