John was still waiting for the call, which, with every passing minute, looked like it would never happen, when Dido appeared late on Saturday morning. She and Trish had both decided to skip classes on Thursday, but had gone to the university on Friday as one of their lectures was given by Fox himself.

They wanted to see his behaviour to check to see if he would give anything away about a possible incursion at his home. The lecture went off as expected. Fox gave away no visible signs of anything out of the ordinary happening at his country home.

Fox was his normal obnoxious self, and his open dislike of Criminologists was there front and centre for all to see. He considered them to be failed lawyers. While many taking the course had failed their law exams, others were serious about being Criminologists. Trish and Dido were in that category. Otherwise, all was normal. Dido and Trish worked late into the evening on Friday, getting all their outstanding assignments done and dusted before travelling to John’s place for a wrap-up of their operation on Wednesday.

“There is Coffee in the pot and bacon and bread on the counter,” said John as Trish appeared, yawning her head off. They’d arrived on the last Central Line train the previous evening.

Dido smiled. John knew the way to Dido’s heart. Bacon Butties after a late night was her preferred pick-me-up.

“Have you been to bed?” asked Dido after she’d poured herself a mug of coffee.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for the Home Office to call me back.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Since zero nine-thirty.”

“They won’t be calling then? It is Saturday, after all?”

“It looks that way.”

“Plan B?”

“I’m going to call the AC of the Met. She will have a direct line to the Home Secretary.”

“Why? I’m a bit confused?”

“I was going to take everything to the chief of the NCA even though there is a mega leak inside the unit, but once I saw the photos of the two girls, he has imprisoned now… Well, I don’t mind saying that they put the fear of God through me. One of them is … or was the son of an MP. You remember the case from last year?”

Dido nodded her head.
“Yeah. The MP’s son was taken from his school by two men with fake creds. Everyone thought that it was a simple ‘for ransom kidnapping’, but no demands were ever received or at least none that were made public.”

“You got it in one. The MP, Peter Banks, was tipped for the top. Six weeks after the boy went missing, the MP took the ‘Chiltern Hundreds’[1] and left parliament. He dropped right off the grid after that. He’d been on the fringes of a property deal that had gone wrong when one of the other players decided to exit with a few million quid some years earlier, and as soon as his son went missing, the conspiracy theorists went into overdrive and soon he was being blamed for the whole debacle even though a public enquiry had cleared him of any direct involvement. He was crucified in the gutter press all while searching for his son.”

Dido stood with the mug cupped in her hands
“I know that look,” said John.
“Are you reading between the lines?”

“Yeah, and the swamp just tripled in size,” said Dido.
“What the hell does Fox have to do with this, and why is he or now she being held?”

“To keep someone silent, perhaps?” said John.

“Remind me never to even think about becoming a politician… If I ever do, then please put me out of my misery,” remarked Trish.

John managed a small laugh.

“John, please tread very carefully. We know that Fox has friends in high places, but this could get nasty if you speak to the wrong person,” said Dido in a soft voice. That was her ‘level 1 pleading voice’.

“I know that. That’s why I haven’t made the call yet.”

John looked at Dido and said,
“Don’t tell the Chrissy yet. The fewer who know who they have in those cells, the better. She is still a little fragile after the other night.”

“Gotcha, John. I’ll follow your lead,” said Dido.
“Can I fix you a sarnie?”

John smiled.
“Not at the moment. I’m going to my study to make a few calls.”

It was more than an hour later before John emerged. Trish and Chrissie were in the middle of a late breakfast, come lunch, come early tea. Dido was doing the washing up.

After putting the kettle on for a brew, John turned to the three women.

“We have a date with some top brass this evening at a hotel near Heathrow. Just smart casual as we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“Just who?” asked Trish, who had a slightly worried look on her face.

“The PPS to the Home Secretary and AC Bartholomew from the Met.”

“Sir…” said Trish
“There has to be more to this than you are saying?”
The tone of her voice and the use of ‘Sir’ conveyed to John that she was deadly serious.

John sighed and sat down. Dido took the hint and went to make him his tea. John needed his afternoon cup of Darjeeling to function properly.

“Trish, you are right and… the problem lies with the two captives. I’m not saying that what you found in that room is not important; it is, but that is insignificant when compared to who one of the captives is.”

“You know who they are?” asked Chrissie.

“One of them,” replied John, looking very uncomfortable.
“Is the son or was the son of the MP that was kidnapped late last year. I told Dido just now.”

The room fell silent. No one needed to ask anything else. The ramifications were huge. John had very much changed his tune from earlier.

“Thanks, John. Then I’ll be happy to go with you even if it gets me into trouble with my bosses,” said Trish.

He shook his head.
“Sorry Trish, this is for Dido and Chrissy alone as they are Fox’s victims. All they need to do is not mention you at all. Chrissy can even talk about not wanting to go inside. We can’t risk your participation becoming known.”

“Why?”

“I have to assume that Fox and his friends know about Dido and Chrissy but won’t want to take action because if they do, their story will come out. I made sure of that. There are video recordings of them telling their stories in a safe place with a legal firm I can trust and one who has no love for Mr Fox. Being exposed, even if he and his son don’t get charged, would be the death knell of his career. He relies upon his reputation to get work as a Barrister, and the University would not want to be involved with a scandal involving paedophilia.”

John took a sip of tea.

“As for you, Trish, you are our reserve. I’m only going to show one set of photos, the ones that Dido took. That preserves the chain of custody. If needed, you can testify that the ones that you took are the real deal. Plus, at this juncture, we don’t know who else is involved with the kidnapping other than Fox and his son. From Dido’s story, we know that there is an organisation doing the kidnapping and even a third doing the mutilating. So far, those are a complete mystery to us.

“We also know that there are a lot of other players involved with the trafficking of children and the supply of them to Fox. We have to believe that Fox is not the only recipient of children. They may or may not be mutilated in the same way. These paedophiles have their own very individual set of perversions. The end game for all of us is not only Fox and Son being given whole life sentences but the apprehension of those supplying the children and doing the mutilation, but also the gang who sodomised Chrissy. We know that there is a link, and the link is probably Fox Junior, but beyond that, it is a mystery.”

Everyone was in deep thought. The news about the captives sent chills through the three women, but it was worse for Dido and Chrissy. They knew what could be happening to those two poor people right now.

Suddenly, Dido leapt up and left the other three alone. They could hear her rummaging for something in the front room. Then she returned with her laptop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Trish.

Dido just put up her hand. Trish took the hint and waited while Dido hit the keys.

After two minutes, a smile appeared on her face.

“There was something that you said earlier, John, that got me thinking. It triggered a little niggle, and I was right. Fox represented the families in a wrongful death suit against the developers who built the crap leisure centre that collapsed and killed their loved ones. They lost and had to pay the other side’s costs.”

She turned her laptop screen so that the others could see it.

“How did you… even think about this?” asked John.

“Once I’d been accepted onto the course, I went and looked up the biographies of all the lecturers. This must have been just after the case, and it was there on his LinkedIn page. He scrubbed the case from the site after the people he was representing lost, but the reports of the case are there in the media. I have no idea if the costs have been paid, but…”

“Why would ‘he’ take the MP’s son? If I remember the news at the time, the MP was only an advisor to the project before it got planning permission?” asked Chrissy.

“You got it wrong. From memory, 10% of the costs were to be paid by the MP, which, again from memory, he paid. As for the rest, it could be that they did hide all their assets before the disaster happened. Kidnapping the son and selling him could be one way that Fox gets paid. The man has a ruthless streak when he is in court, and this case was one of his few losses. If the families could not pay him, and he’d lose a lot of cred in the criminal world if he sued them, then… the proceeds from trafficking the son would compensate him. As he’s involved with the trafficking business, or that is what we assume, then why not, eh?”

“It all seems very messy,” said Trish.

“That, my dear Trish, is an understatement,” said John.
“But,” he added,
“This is just between us until we get evidence to prove it one way or another. Understand?”

His voice was, for once, rock solid. Both Trish and Dido knew that he was deadly serious.
“We understand,” said Trish.
Dido nodded.

[later that evening at a hotel near Heathrow Airport]

“Please come in,” said the woman who answered the door to room 203.
“This is Julian Patterson, the PPS to the Home Secretary.”

“Hello. Please take a seat.”

Just then, there was another knock at the door. The woman opened it.

“Fiona, please come in,” said the woman who left the room and closed the door behind her.

“John, nice to see you again,” said Fiona.

Fiona Morgan was the newly appointed Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Peterson, and to see you again, Fiona,” said John.
“These are the two erstwhile detectives who discovered what I’m about to show you. Dido is on the left, and Chrissy is on the right. I say detectives, but they are, as you will soon see, both victims of the perpetrator that we are about to expose to you both.”

“Thank you for coming here. From what John said on the phone, what you have is dynamite, and it would not be prudent for you to be seen meeting with me in Westminster,” said Julian.

“That is correct,” said John.

“Then please start your story. Neither of us has anywhere else to be tonight, so take your time,” said Julian.

“Dido? Why don’t you start the tale,” suggested John.

“Thanks, John.”
She looked at Chrissy and smiled.

“A couple of nights ago, Chrissy and I broke into a house not far from Royston in Hertfordshire.”

“Hold on there,” said Fiona.
“Are you admitting to a crime? John, I’m surprised at you?”

“Fiona…” said John.
“Please let them tell their story, then and only then react to what you hear.”

“I agree. Fiona, John would not have made such a song and dance if what we are about to hear wasn’t significant,” said Julian.

Fiona looked at John and Julian before nodding her head. Her body language was shouting… ‘This had better be good or else!’.

“Crissy and I have a history at this house. We were both held there for several years against our will after being trafficked as young children and given huge amounts of female hormones after having our male parts surgically removed.”
She paused for thought.
“Yes, we were both born male.”

The colour drained from the PPS’s face.

“As I said, we broke in because we wanted to get photographic evidence of where we were held to be used as a catalyst in an action against the man who is a public figure. Don’t ask who he is until the end.”

Dido looked at Chrissy.
“Dido opened the front door, but I could not go inside. The abuse I suffered inside that house was just too recent for me, so I stayed on watch while she went inside.”

“I went down to the cellar where I was held for nearly five years and made to perform many sex acts on the resident of the house and his friends. I found the cell where I lived for years. There are now three cells. When I was held, it was just the one. To my surprise, two of them were occupied by what appeared to be two young women. They seemed to have been drugged. That happened to me when the son of the resident wanted to go out for the night. I took copious photos of them, and you can see them soon.”

She looked at the two officials. The PPS was shaking his head.

“Believe me, sir, this is not some sort of trick. As I said, those bastards cut off my penis and testicles and left me with nothing but plain skin. Chrissy had the same work done to her, and I assume that the two girls in the cells have had it done as well.”

Dido took a deep breath and continued.

“Next to the cells where the girls were confined was a new structure. I went inside and found a treasure trove of crime scene photos and files.”

She turned to the AC.
“There is an operation being run by the NCA to investigate cases of gang rape where the victim’s life is also taken apart and ruined. I believe it is called Operation Chesil. These case files were all related to the cases being investigated as part of that project. Someone inside the NCA is corrupt.”

“How do you know about the NCA operation?” asked the AC.

“That’s because I’m also one of the victims that Operation Chesil is dealing with,” said Chrissy.
“There were photos of me with a beer bottle up my rectum on the wall. It turned my stomach when John showed them to me.”

“To sum up,” said John.
“We have a property where two young women or possibly former males are being held against their will and made to perform various sex acts also against their will. Then, there is all the crime scene data. What the hell is all that doing there?”

“Who owns the property?” asked the AC.

“We traced the ownership via three offshore shell companies to Professor Jonathan Fox QC.”

The room went silent.

“Shit,” muttered Julian.
The AC remained impassive apart from a tug to one sleeve of her jacket.

“Then we come to the identity of the two captives,” said John.
“I have good reason to believe that one of them is the son of Tony Banks, the former MP who had his son kidnapped at the back end of last year.”

“Here are some copies of the photos that Dido took. They are all on these USB drives.”

John gave Fiona and Julian each a package of twenty photos that would back up the story that they’d just been told.

They studied them for almost ten minutes in silence.

Eventually, Julian broke the silence.
“What do you want me to do?”

“We’d like you to work with Fiona to get a search warrant on the QT and organise a raid, run by the Hertfordshire Police on the place before they can hear about it and destroy all the evidence. Naturally, the NCA must not be involved given the obvious leak or outright corruption in the NCA,” said John.

“John, how do you know Dido and Chrissy, if you don’t mind me asking?” asked the AC.

“Dido escaped from the house and was on the streets for a while. One day, she tried to steal my car, and I caught her in the act. I didn’t call the locals but gave her a good feed and the chance to get clean. Slowly, she revealed what she’d been through. I paid for her to have counselling and rehab. Now, she’s a fully paid-up member of society. As for Chrissy, she was attacked at a club that, by a huge streak of luck, was managed by a friend of Dido’s … from before she was trafficked. He saw that Chrissy had been mutilated just like Dido and called her. She’s been going through the same sort of rehab as Dido has since last March.”

John took the opportunity to ask,
“Are you going to arrest Dido for B&E?”

Fiona smiled.
“Given what she discovered, I don’t think so. She took a huge risk in doing that on her own.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Fiona, please… when we are not on Police premises.”

“Julian? You have been very quiet?”

“Sorry. I’m still trying to get my mind around what we’ve just seen. It is awful, and all those involved need to be put in prison for a long, long time, but I’m not sure how I can help here?”

“The Home Office is in charge of policing, is it not?”

“Yes, why?”

“Then a word with the relevant Chief Constables along with Fiona when you come to plan the raid on the house just to keep it, need to know would help. Then, making doubly sure that the crooked cops in the NCA get thrown out on their backsides in a very public manner. There are enough Chief Constables out there who want the NCA to fail miserably, would it not be in your best interest to stamp out the few bad eggs ASAP and help quash those nay-sayers.”

Then John added,
“AC-12 know about the leak. I had an off-the-record meeting with Terry March. He does not know that it is Fox who is the target. All he knows is that when news of a big arrest hits the media, he can get his team into the mix. It is clear from the photos that there is a lot of Operation Chesil evidence at Fox’s home. All we can hope for is that there are some fingerprints of serving officers on them. While that is bad for the force, any collusion between the Operation Chesil team and the gang of sadists committing the crimes is even worse.”

Julian smiled.
“I can see why you were tipped for the top job in the Met. You cover all the bases.”

John shook his head.
“I never wanted it. Far too political for me. Far too many fools and idiots get into politics for the national good.”

“I think we are done here,” said Fiona.
“Julian and I will sleep on what we have seen and heard tonight. I have a regular meeting at the Home Office on Monday afternoon. I’ll meet with you after that, Julian.”

Jon nodded his head.
“Thank you both, but please remember these two things. Firstly, time is of the essence. There are two young people locked in cells and being made to do who knows what possibly as we sit here talking, and they need rescuing. The second is that the fewer people who know about this, the better. There is no telling what Fox will do if he gets wind of an impending Police raid. Those young lives could be in danger.”

“Thank you, John,” said Julian.
“That is a very persuasive argument, and I am sure that we will take action very soon.”

Dido and John left the others to talk but John could tell that Dido was not happy. She had done her best to hide it but he knew her body language very well.

Dido could hardly contain her anger but somehow managed to get to John’s car before letting out a piercing scream.

“They didn’t believe a fucking word we just said.”
“I could go back in there and kill both of them right now.”
[to be continued]

[1] Chiltern Hundreds – A mechanism whereby a sitting MP can resign their seat.
https://www.parliament.uk/globalassets/documents/commons-inf...