Showing posts with label 5b. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 5b. Show all posts

Chapter 66: Breaking The Terror Codes

Previous: The Pinsetters

"You do the daily crosswords, don't you?"
"To grasp what Gareth Williams saw in the 'terror' emails and how he perceived what he saw," said Sherlock Holmes, "we should try to put ourselves into his shoes, so to speak."

"Yes, of course," I said.

"And to the extent it may be possible," the detective continued, "we should re-trace the sequence of events chronologically, as they would have appeared to him."

"Understood," I nodded.

"We can start," he went on, "with what we know about the young man who went to work at GCHQ. He was a brilliant mathematician, with an enormous gift for logic, a capable memory, and pattern-recognition skills far in advance of his peers."

"Everyone seems to agree on these points," I added.

"If we combine these characteristics," continued Holmes, "we can see, perhaps, how or why he could do mental arithmetic so quickly and accurately that his friends didn't need a calculator when he was around.

"He was also exceptionally brave and ambitious, as his racing career shows. You won't find any lazy cowards speeding up and down the mountains on their bicycles! He was good-hearted if socially awkward, honest, perhaps to a fault, and very naive, if we are to believe what we've been told -- and we've no reason not to do so."

"I am with you so far," I said. Holmes shifted in his seat and re-lit his pipe.

"Gareth left a relatively free-thinking environment in academia and joined the more constrained world of secret government service in 1999," Holmes continued. "He was well-established at GCHQ by 2001, when the events of September 11 occurred in the United States. As I read it, he was surrounded at work by people who accepted the American government's story about those events, even though the tale rings false, and since he kept to himself otherwise -- except while racing -- he was isolated from the few people who were asking difficult questions about those events at the time.

"And so the Global War On Terror was launched, with information collection and analysis highlighted as never before. The USA attacked and invaded, first Afghanistan and then Iraq, with the British alongside at every step. Gareth Williams became an asset in two wars -- or The War, depending on your point of view. And I am confident that he was comfortable in his role."  

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"With a mind like his," Holmes replied, "a young man could get another job in a heartbeat, and on a much higher pay scale than Gareth was earning in Cheltenham. He wouldn't have stayed at GCHQ for ten years unless he was happy there."

"I see," I said.

"Gareth's role as an intelligence analyst must have been growing," continued my friend, "and his comfort in his role likely continued even through the summer of 2005, when the synchronized bombing attacks occurred here in London. Although the circumstances of the 7/7 attacks, and the additional failed attempts two weeks later, were highly suspicious, the national media were not up to exposing the anomalies, coincidences, and outright contradictions in the government's story. So Gareth probably remained in the dark as much as any other loyal government employee.

"If we have this right, his first personal experience with terrorism came when he was called to work on the 'Liquid Bombers' case, which, as you remember, was broken up in August of 2006. Quite likely he spent quite some time during the spring and summer of 2006 trying to break the 'encoding scheme' used in the terrorists' email."

"It all sounds reasonable to me," I said, "at least so far."

"Breaking that code," continued Holmes, "would have been akin to an exercise in algebra, of the type known as 'solving simultaneous equations.'"

"I'm sure that's not a useful analogy for explaining things to me!" I interrupted. "I was never strong in maths."

"But you do the daily crosswords, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. "But not every day," I added defensively. In the shadow of murder and terrorism, crosswords suddenly seemed shamefully trivial.

"It's the same principle," Holmes explained without any apparent judgment of my hobby. "When you solve one word, the letters you add to the grid contribute information that helps you to solve the intersecting words. No?"

"Certainly," I agreed. "That's the whole point!"

"So, as I see it," said Holmes, "Gareth must have started with a clean grid -- a pile of completely mysterious messages, which made no sense at all unless they conveyed a secret meaning. And it probably didn't take him very long to start playing with the possibility that certain words stood for other words. When he figured out that 'after shave' could really mean 'hydrogen peroxide,' for instance, and 'going to a rap concert' could mean 'staging an attack,' then it would have become simpler for him to develop the hypothesis that 'a popular bus service' might mean 'a busy international flight,' and similarly, the rest of the secrets embodied in all that email would have become increasingly easier for him to decipher. Are you still with me, Watson?"

"I think so, Holmes," I said. "When I work on crosswords, I often find myself in positions where I seem completely stuck, but then I solve one more word, and it puts new letters in the grid that make it easy to solve other words, and sometimes the whole puzzle falls together surprisingly easily!"

"That's exactly the sort of thing I am talking about, Watson," said the detective, "but in this case Gareth's long chain of reasoning served, not to solve a printed puzzle, but to prevent a horrific attack. Or so our young code-breaker must have thought.

"It's a rare investigator who, having helped the police collar an important suspect, takes no interest in his man's progression through the legal system. Unless I am reading Gareth Williams all wrong, he would have followed the trials of the 'Liquid Bombers,' and he would have asked himself questions similar to those I asked you a week ago: Why were half of the suspects released almost immediately? Why did the police search the woods for four months and come up with nothing other than what they discovered on their first day? Why did the Crown try so many times and get so few convictions? Why was the 'Terror Trial of the Century' so sparsely covered when it finally took place? And so on.

"The trials, as you recall, began in the spring of 2008 and dragged on and on, the second trial concluding in 2009 and the third one on 2010. So the 'Liquid Bomber' prosecutions would still have been going on when Gareth was called upon to help in decoding another pile of mysterious email.

"This time, he would have had some experience with the system of encoding, so to speak. It was a very amateurish way to communicate, and it must have struck him as exceptionally risky, especially after the takedown of the 'Liquid Bombers' showed the terrorists that their email had been intercepted and their 'code' had been cracked.

"And yet, here he was again, looking at nonsense which could not possibly have been worth reading, let alone writing, unless it carried a secret message. Gareth Williams was certainly bright enough to figure out that if the names of girls referred to various explosives, then the descriptions that didn't make any sense when applied to girls must have referred to characteristics of the explosives, and if that was the case, and if the talk of weddings and parties referred to attacks, then it was a serious matter indeed when 'XC' started writing about his plans to get married in a couple of weeks.

"Then Ian Tomlinson was killed, Bob Quick resigned, the 'Easter Bombers' were arrested, and police started searching -- and found nothing. That happened in April of 2009, Watson, and I think Gareth Williams must have started scratching his head and asking himself, 'What just happened? Did we get duped?'

"And what could he do then?" Holmes continued. "What else but look back through his memory -- if not his records -- at the email he had helped to decode? On second reading, he had the benefit of hindsight, and the time and perspective to take in a longer and wider view of everything that had happened.

"Whereas in his first experience with the email he focused on deciphering code words and estimating what the various messages could have meant, he now would be in a position to look back on the entire conversation, which probably consisted of hundreds, if not thousands, of messages. The few snippets published in The Telegraph could hardly have been the only ones."

"I think you must be right so far," I said. "I haven't heard you say anything that sounds even slightly implausible."

"Good," replied my friend. "I think I'm on the right track, although I am not yet positive. Some confirmation would be most welcome, if it can be arranged. But that's still in our uncertain future. At this point I can say, however, that of all the possibilities I have considered, the hypothesis I am outlining to you now strikes me as the least unlikely."

I nodded, impressed by his air of hopefulness as well as his precision, and he continued. "When Gareth Williams reflected upon the entire email conversation, certain features must have fairly jumped out at him. Among these, I believe, would  have been the question which sent you to dreamland: 'Tell me that how is your sweety girlfriend.'"

"It seemed very strange to me, Holmes," I said, "but I couldn't put my finger on why."

"Well, I can," replied my friend. "And when I explain it to you, you will say it's absurdly simple."

"I will not!" I objected.

"You certainly will," he countered.

"Try me," I said.

"Both the tenor of the conversation," said Holmes, "and the flow of information within it, were very, very wrong."

"How so?" I asked.

"First of all," he replied, "their email had already been intercepted; their code had already been broken. The first convictions in the 'Liquid Bombers' case had occurred in the summer of 2008, and yet here early in 2009 we have the alleged al Q'aeda mastermind using the same easily breakable 'encoding' scheme, and being positively chatty with it. Ostensibly he should have noticed the 'Liquid Bombers' complaining about a 'skin problem' shortly before they were arrested, after which he should have been unusually careful. But here, quite to the contrary, it's 'Tell me that how is your sweety girlfriend.' Gareth must have wondered whether the man in Pakistan was trying to get them caught. Otherwise it would have been 'Keep the chatter about your sweety girlfriend to a minimum, mate!'

"Secondly," Holmes continued, "the information in this conversation is flowing in the wrong direction. If the man in Pakistan -- allegedly Rashid Rauf -- is the bomb-making mastermind, he shouldn't be saying anything even resembling 'tell me about your sweetie.' He's supposedly the one who knows all about the different girls, if the names of girls refer to various explosive compounds.

"The man in Manchester, 'XC' if that's his name, shouldn't be saying, 'Nadia is very loyal' and 'Fozia lets you down sometime,' because the man in Pakistan -- Rashid Rauf? -- already knows all that. If the email truly carried information about the characteristics of various explosives, the information should have been flowing from Pakistan to Manchester, rather than vice versa."

"How absurdly simple!" I exclaimed, and Holmes shot me a look that was not without humour.

"You're saying Gareth may have noticed the discrepancy?" I asked.

"No, Watson," replied my friend. "I'm saying he couldn't have avoided noticing it!"

Chapter 67: When A Dam Breaks


"The turmoil in his mind must have been
similar to what happens when a dam breaks."
"Gareth couldn't have known Fred," continued Holmes, "and he wouldn't have been using terms like 'pins' and 'pinsetters,' but he must have found it very easy in retrospect to see that the 'Easter Bombers' were set up to be knocked down."

"Like the stumps in cricket?" I suggested.

"Yes, exactly," said the detective. "The analogy would have been familiar to him, so we may as well use it ourselves. From this point of view, 'Tell me that how is your sweety girlfriend?' can be seen to mean, 'Send me some more self-incriminating email.'"

"Right," I said.

"Once Gareth Williams saw that the 'Easter Bombers' were not actual terrorists," Holmes continued, "but only 'stumps,' it couldn't have taken him very long to start examining the possibility that the 'Liquid Bombers' were stumps, too, and that they had all been set up in order to be knocked down.

"This simple hypothesis, repugnant though it may be to a loyal government worker, answers so many of the questions Gareth must have been asking himself, that he would have been forced to take it seriously."

"Questions such as?" I prompted, lighting my pipe and settling back in my chair.

"Such as 'Why didn't the police find more incriminating evidence?'" said Holmes, "and 'Why did it take so many trials to get so few convictions?' and 'Why did the trials -- especially the first trial -- draw so little media coverage?'

"If the 'Liquid Bombers' were stumps and their plot was impossible by design, all these questions would be answered, and the answers would all be the same. The simplicity of the explanation must have been attractive to the young mathematician, who had been trained to look for the most elegant methods and proofs."

"I'm sure I know nothing about that," I interjected.

"You may not be familiar with the mathematical terminology," Holmes replied, "but you've watched me do the same thing for many years. Unless I have reason to believe otherwise, I always view the simplest possible solution as the best one."

"I suppose you do," I said, "although I can't say I've noticed it before now."

"Never too old to learn, eh?" he said with a chuckle. "Good for you, Watson.

"The elegance inherent in the explanation may not have been sufficiently powerful to convince Gareth immediately that these so-called 'terror threats' were actually enormous frauds, but surely it must have been strong enough to make him take the idea seriously. And as soon as he did so, other, larger, questions would have appeared. These questions in turn would have demanded their own answers, which would have prompted new questions.

"The turmoil in his mind must have been similar to what happens when a dam breaks. The escaping water erodes the broken wall of the dam, and this erosion allows even more water to escape. The greater flow of water accelerates the erosion, which accelerates the flow of water, which accelerates the erosion, and so on. And the cycle continues until either most of the dam or most of the water is gone."

"Or both," I added.

"Indeed," said my friend. "Gareth's elation at having broken the codes must have faded rapidly when he began to understand that he had merely helped to knock down some stumps. But how did he react? Here we are on less solid ground."

"I understand," I said. "And I am interested in your hypothesis, even though you may not have solid evidence to support it."

"Not yet, anyway," Holmes continued, "but I am hoping for some help from Slate on this topic, and I will be joining him this evening for a ride on the Underground. He put an ad in the Times while I was in Yorkshire. Did you see it, Watson? I'm sure you wouldn't have understood it unless you had been told what to look for."

"What was it this time, Cookie Monster and Elmo?" I asked, remembering the whimsical example he had scribbled for me.

"Not quite so contemporary, Watson, nor quite so childish," he responded, "although I do like the idea. No, this time it was Abbot and Costello."

"Nearly as childish!" I remarked, and my friend laughed.

"What about this meeting?" I asked. "I suppose I'd be in the way?"

"Not at all," said my friend, "but you'd be much more useful to me here. And you'd hardly be able to catch what was being said above the clatter of the rails, which is why I chose the location for our meeting. The Underground provides the best acoustic camouflage in the city. Did you know that?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way before," I said.

"Running water is good, too," he replied, "but not as effective as running trains. In any case, I will give you a thorough report when I return. But in the meantime, let's speculate about Gareth, shall we? Assuming we are still on the right track, what would have been going through his mind?"

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Holmes, "if he asked himself, 'Why are we spending so much time and effort knocking down stumps? And why don't real terrorists hit us, especially since we're so busy chasing stumps?'

"He probably wondered, 'Why, when the 'Liquid Bombers' were caught, did the Crown spend so much time and effort trying to get convictions against them, as if they were really terrorists?'

"I think he must have asked himself, 'Who is setting up these stumps? And why?'

"Each new answer would suggest more questions, and each new question would demand an answer. Unless I am reading this all wrong, Gareth had more than ample courage to keep looking for more and more truth as more and more lies crumbled around him.

"And as he did so, his remarkably powerful intellect, armed with his detailed knowledge of the traps into which all these knuckleheads had fallen, became a different kind of trap, one into which he -- the boy genius himself -- had fallen."

"I'm not sure I follow you," I said.

"What could he do next?" asked Holmes. "He could hardly go to work the next day and say, 'Hey everybody, Rashid Rauf is an agent provocateur and I can prove it!' Could he? Dylan Parry kept describing him as 'naive,' but was he naive enough to do something like that? I think not. I think he kept his own counsel, at least for a while."

I nodded, not even knowing what questions to ask, and Holmes continued.

"But eventually he had to say something to somebody, and I think that happened in late July or early August. It's just a hunch, but we'll see. We've come a long way down a road paved with best assumptions. It wouldn't do to end our trip without a wild guess, would it?"

"All right, then. Early August it is," I said slowly. "August of 2009, roughly a year before Gareth Williams was last seen alive."

I was impressed, as always, with the chain of ideas Holmes had strung together. Yet I was somewhat dubious as to his choice of date.

"Can you say anything about the significance of the date?" I asked. "Do you have any idea what he said then, or to whom?"

"Yes and yes, Watson," he replied. "I can and I do. But one wild guess is enough for the present. Perhaps Bucky can shed some light on the corners of this story that remain dark. Perhaps you can shed some light for us as well."

"How can I do that?" I asked.

"Do a bit of research for me this evening, will you?" he replied. "Find out what was going on in the United States in early August of 2006, the prequel to the arrests of the 'Liquid Bombers,' as it were. I'm afraid I've strewn the files all over the place. But to a man with your organizational skills, -- "

"I'll do my best to overcome the difficulties," I said, and silently I continued the sentence in my mind: "... inherent in living with a brilliant madman!"

"I knew I could count on you, Watson," he said. "Don't wait up; I have other business that needs my attention and I expect to be out late. But we can give each other full reports in the morning."

"Certainly," I said. "Travel safely, Holmes."

I saw my friend out, then stopped to marvel at my own capacity for denial. I had known from the moment I entered the sitting room that I would be the one to pick up all the papers and sort them chronologically. But I had never permitted the knowledge to surface until I saw Holmes leaving for the rest of the day.

I wondered whether young Gareth Williams had experienced brushes with thoughts that had seemed too horrible to contemplate if they could be avoided, and which for that reason were possible for him to ignore -- until the dam broke.

Chapter 68: Ned Lamont


Ned Lamont won the primary in August.
I didn't wait for evening to fall, as Holmes had suggested, but went straight to work as soon as he had departed. He had asked me a simple question, but I had a premonition that the answer might not be as simple as the question. And I was right.

My friend had asked what was happening in early August of 2006 that the American government wanted to keep off the front pages. The short answer was "Ned Lamont."

Senator Joe Lieberman, a Democrat from Connecticut who had been Al Gore's running mate in 2000, was a strong supporter of Republican President George W. Bush, especially on issues such as the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Lieberman was also a loyal supporter of Israel and a fierce advocate of curtailing civil rights under the banner of "Homeland Security."

Many Democrats considered Lieberman a traitor to the party and to the principles it pretends to support, and some hoped he could be unseated. One of them was Ned Lamont, a Connecticut millionaire with limited political experience but sufficient independence to take a position mildly against the war in Iraq. Lamont challenged and defeated Lieberman in the primary election of August 8, 2006, earning the right to campaign as the official candidate of the Democratic party in the general election in November.

The result was a major victory for the anti-war "wing" of the Democratic Party, and therefore it was seen by strategists of both parties as a potential "hinge," on which political momentum might take a significant turn. As usual, the two sides were battling over how the result would be reported.

But Rashid Rauf was arrested in Pakistan.
By the end of the week prior to the primary, Lamont's victory had been seen by both sides as all but certain, and, according to some published reports, the Republicans were bracing for a national backlash against their policies of the past six years. They were also, apparently, casting about for an issue or an event which would unite the party -- and possibly even the nation -- around the president, as he strove to retain as much power as possible for the last two years of his second term. But it didn't take them long to find something they could use.

Presidential power in the United States comes by degrees: if the President's party controls both the House of Representatives and the Senate, the President will get what he wants much more often than if the Senate or the House, or both, are controlled by the opposing party. And Republican control of the Senate during the G. W. Bush years was almost always razor-thin.

As a Senior Democrat with a dedicated Republican point of view, Lieberman's value to the President was beyond measure. To have lost his Senate seat would have been a serious blow to the Republicans, especially if the new Senator from Connecticut was prepared to lead an anti-war charge against the President.

None of these Democratic pipe-dreams ever came to pass, however. Lieberman announced immediately after the primary loss that he would contest the general election as an independent -- that is, without the official backing of his party, or of any party. Lieberman was quoted as saying:
"For the sake of our state, our country and my party, I cannot and will not let that result stand."
Lieberman’s campaign manager, Sean Smith, took a different tack as regards the Democratic party.
"This is bigger than the party now," Smith said.
Regardless of whether it was more noble to denigrate the party by ignoring the stated wishes of its members in favour of something "bigger," or to support it by acting against those stated wishes "for the sake of the party," Lieberman ran against Lamont in November and won, retaining his Senate seat. Thus was crisis averted, as seen from the Republican point of view.

And George W. Bush rallied his supporters.
Furthermore, the sequence of events, and the sequence in which those events were reported, leave no doubt that American officials were notified -- in advance of the arrests of the "Liquid Bombers," and in advance of the Connecticut primary -- that the British were tracking what appeared to be a big terror plot in its early stages.

British intelligence felt they had the matter well in hand, and that the plot posed no danger to the public. The Brits were also of the opinion that it would be quite safe to allow the plotters to go ahead for a while longer, and they favoured this course, in the hope that it would encourage more evidence to appear.

According to a book written later by American journalist Ron Suskind, President Bush urged the British to act immediately against the plotters, but when they did not do so, Bush moved to preempt them. According to Suskind, the Americans sent a high-ranking CIA officer on a clandestine mission to Pakistan to make sure the Pakistani security forces arrested Rashid Rauf immediately.

The arrest of Rashid Rauf, and the subsequent arrests of the "Liquid Bombers," were portrayed in the press as a victory against terrorism achieved by unprecedented multi-way cooperation among the Pakistanis, the British, and the Americans. But, at least according to some British intelligence officers, nothing could have been further from the truth. In their view, the prosecution of the "Liquid Bombers" was hampered by the arrests coming too early, before there was enough evidence to ensure convictions all around.

However, the Republicans were looking to mount a sustained propaganda barrage which would obliterate the name of Ned Lamont from the national landscape permanently, or at least until the general election in November. The fifth anniversary of the September 11 attacks was coming, but not soon enough to suit their purposes. American voters could not be allowed to spend the next month rallying around Ned Lamont, the anti-war Democrats, or the people who merely pointed out that Bush had not kept America safe, and that the wars of choice which he started in Afghanistan and Iraq were making America less, rather than more, secure.

The news of the arrests of the "Liquid Bombers" came at just the right time for the Republicans -- roughly twenty-four hours after Lamont's victory -- and they exploited it expertly. Whether calling the Democrats "Defeatocrats," or suggesting that Democrats -- especially anti-war Democrats -- were "al-Q'aeda types," or insinuating that anyone who opposed the war in Iraq was working for the terrorists, the Republicans worked the "Liquid Bombers" story with their usual combination of oratory sleight-of-hand and relentless determination, turning the political momentum to their advantage once again.

And Joe Lieberman was re-elected in November.
Shamefully, in my view, the President's political men spoke openly about how much benefit they could derive from "terrorist attacks" and "foiled terror plots" such as that of the "Liquid Bombers." Even more shamefully, nobody was paying enough attention to grasp what they really meant.

In retrospect, it seems the "terror plot" involving the "Liquid Bombers" was always known by British security to be quite harmless, probably -- in my opinion -- because the British understood that it relied on impossible mechanisms. Further, it is clear that the "danger" posed by the "plot" underwent a significant increase as soon as the Americans became aware of it, whatever it was.

Having shared information with the Americans, were British security forces trapped by the arrest of Rashid Rauf? Were they forced to expose their own trap by springing it too soon? Were they trying to cover the fact that the plot was bogus by implementing draconian security measures which were never to be lifted, and by prosecuting the suspects as many times as necessary to obtain convictions?

I couldn't answer these questions, but I found myself returning to them again and again while I re-filed the news clippings. I wondered if Gareth Williams had ever asked himself the same questions. And I wondered whether Holmes would ever learn to put things back where he had filed them.

Chapter 69: News From The Underground


Gareth Williams had attended
a performance by Jonny Woo ...
When I awoke Tuesday morning, Sherlock Holmes was sitting at his desk, writing what appeared to be a letter. "Fortune still runs in our favour, Watson," he said without looking up.

"What's happening?" I asked, still slightly groggy.

"I had a very interesting conversation with Buckingham Slate last night on the Underground," he continued. "Shall I tell you about it while you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Why not?" I replied, and began to eat. My friend took a few minutes to finish what he was writing, then sat back in his chair and resumed speaking.

"Bucky gave me names and addresses," he said, "of two people he thinks we should contact. Both, in his words, are 'attractive young blondes.' I told him I didn't think you'd mind."

I smiled and kept eating.

"I have just finished writing to both of them," continued Holmes, "requesting interviews at their earliest convenience. I assume you'll come with me to see them unless I can entice them to meet us here."

"Certainly, if I can help," I said.

... and had purchased tickets
for two upcoming shows ...
"Of course you can," replied the detective, "if they'll see us. We cannot know what will come of the letters I have just written. But I must say I am hopeful."

"Why is that?" I inquired.

"Bucky described both young women as very unimpressed with the police investigation to this point," he replied, "and he hinted that they could tell us things we would find very useful."

"What kind of things?"

"He wouldn't elaborate. He would only say, 'Go talk to them! They'll tell you plenty!' He was much more interested in talking about other things.

"I started by asking him about the designer dresses found in Gareth's flat. As you will recall, he talked about finding the shops where Gareth bought them. It seems a minor point."

I nodded in agreement and he continued. "But it proves that designer dresses were among the items found in the flat, and this brings us to an interesting question: Did the police not deny that any such items had been found?"

"I thought they did," I replied.

"I thought so, too," said Holmes, "but it could be that they simply released a carefully-worded statement which was intended to be misunderstood as a blanket denial. As such, it would have been seen to cover all manner of claims regarding items allegedly found in the flat, which allegedly indicated some perversion, or aberrant sexuality, on Gareth's part.

"From our point of view, with what we have learned from Jenny Elliot in Cheltenham, and what we have heard from Gareth's family, we have suspected that all the reports hinting at unusual sexual practices or interests were patently false and intended solely to provide disinformation. But apparently, from what Bucky told me last night, this is not true."

"I'm confused," I said.

"So am I," said Holmes, "but in a different way than you, I suspect. What has you baffled?"

"Nothing in particular," I said, "but I feel as if I've lost track of what you're talking about. Are you saying some of the claims the police dismissed as false were actually true?"

"I'm not sure of that," replied Holmes. "But according to Bucky, items other than dresses were found in Gareth's flat which would seem to indicate an interest in deviant practices, such as bondage and cross-dressing, if not homosexuality. But police also have an unconfirmed report that Gareth was seen in a gay bar."

"What items did they find?" I asked.

... at The Bistrotheque, one of
London's most fashionable clubs.
"Aside from the dresses," he answered, "Bucky says Gareth had attended a drag cabaret show featuring Jonny Woo at a club called The Bistrotheque, and police found tickets to two upcoming shows. They also found makeup, a couple of rainbow wigs, and evidence that Gareth's cell phone was used to access websites featuring torture and bondage."

"Is Slate certain of all this?" I asked. I was having trouble believing we'd been so far wrong about the young code-breaker with the seemingly ultra-clean lifestyle. "If it's all true, it would undermine the case you've been building, would it not?"

"I wouldn't go too far," replied my friend. "A man can walk into a gay bar without being gay. It is possible to enjoy a performance by a man dressed as a woman without being a transvestite. One can visit any website one likes without necessarily engaging in the conduct it promotes. And, more to the point, even if he was a gay transvestite with a bondage fetish, it would still be a stretch to imagine him padlocking himself into an airtight bag, unless he was also too stupid for words, which Gareth Williams patently was not."

"The little we know about his past doesn't seem to indicate any proclivity for torture or bondage," I said. "If all this is true -- and why would Bucky lie to us? -- something must have happened to Gareth here in London about which we still don't know anything at all."

"I believe Bucky," said Holmes, "and I think you are probably right."

"But what could have happened?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "And how could we ever find out?" I added.

"It seems to me," said Holmes, "that my best possible move is to post the letters I've just written. The sooner they go out, the sooner we may be able to meet two attractive young blondes."

"It sounds like a good idea to me," I said. "And in the meantime, while we wait for them to reply?"

Niccolò Paganini,
the Patron Saint of Violin Land.
"You can tell me about the research you did last night," replied the detective. "But there is no pressing need for any further research, and we have no other promising leads at the moment. The best we can do now, unless I have missed something very important, is to send the letters, then wait and see what the postman brings."

"It feels awkward not having anything to do," I protested.

"Are you bored already?" he asked. "Do you want some cocaine?"

"No! Of course not!" I replied.

"I didn't think so," he said. "How about a trip to Violin Land? I usually do one or the other, when boredom becomes burdensome to me."

"No, it's quite all right," I said. "We may be busy again as early as tomorrow. And it's not entirely burdensome yet."

"Are you certain?" Holmes replied. "Perlman plays Paganini at Royal Albert Hall this evening. Do you really have something better to do?"

"How could anyone have anything better to do?" I replied.

"I thought you'd see my point," said Holmes. "We both need, and deserve, a rest. We've worked hard on this case for nearly two weeks, and we will have more hard work to do before we're finished. Let's spend the evening soothing our souls with the magical sweetness of beautiful music. Tomorrow, unless I am much mistaken, will bring us something very different."

Chapter 70: Positive Results


"I've been dreading looking
inside that box for several days now."
Our trip to Violin Land was wonderful. Holmes was clearly transported, as if on wings of sound. His facial expressions, at times bright and animated, at others deeply relaxed, gave no hint that he was in the midst of investigating an exceedingly dark and mysterious series of events.

I enjoyed the evening as much as I could, but, lacking my friend's ability to compartmentalize the subjects of his investigations and detach himself from them, I couldn't stop my thoughts from wandering. And whenever they wandered, they found their way to Gareth Williams.

I kept wondering what Gareth was thinking during the summer of 2009. If Holmes' analysis was correct, Gareth was under considerable mental stress, trying to resolve the contradictions which his job had suddenly brought to his very sharp attention.

If the security services and the Crown prosecutors didn't know that the "Easter Bombers" and the "Liquid Bombers" had been set up to be knocked down, should he tell them?

If they knew already, and had prosecuted the "Liquid Bombers" relentlessly while greatly increasing airport security, even despite such knowledge, then what Gareth had seen would clearly be very dangerous to them, and maybe he shouldn't tell anybody.

Did they know or not? It had to be one or the other. But how could Gareth find out which it was?

Where could he turn? Whom could he trust? What could he do? What could he say? Should he say anything?

I returned to these questions again and again, even as the famous virtuoso showcased the great master's most beloved compositions. At one point it seemed to me that Perlman was breathing new life into Paganini's most intricate pieces. But then the thoughts of breathing and of life led me straight back to visions of the padlocked bag sitting in the bathtub, not to be found until its contents had reached "an advanced state of decomposition."

Holmes and I were planning to observe the results of our experiment in decomposition the following day, and my thoughts of things to come dampened my enthusiasm for the concert, and hampered my attempts to fall asleep later. It was not the first time that thoughts or visions of the man in the bag had given me trouble in the night. But these thoughts were more gruesome than their predecessors.

The sandman took me in the wee hours after a long struggle, and Holmes let me sleep until almost noon. "You'd better eat your breakfast, Watson," he said when he saw me moving at last. "It won't be long before Mrs. Hudson brings our lunch."

The food had been cold for hours, but I was hungry, and I sat down and began to eat. "Today is Wednesday," said Holmes. "It's been a week since we started the decomposition experiments."

I blanched, and Holmes couldn't help but notice. "I don't suppose you're looking forward to seeing the results?" he asked.

"Not at all," I said. "To tell you the truth. I've been dreading looking inside that box for several days now."

"I'm sorry the prospect has caused you such discomfort," replied Holmes. "You don't need to look if you don't want to."

"I don't?" I asked, with relief that must have been very obvious.

"No, not at all," said my friend. "I've seen the results of our experiment already -- after my own breakfast, mind you -- and I can tell you about them if you prefer."

"I would appreciate it very much," I said. "I would also appreciate it if your report could wait until I've finished eating."

"Yes, yes, of course," replied Holmes. "I apologize for my timing. When you're ready to light a pipe and sit down with me, I will tell you whatever you want to know."

I joined him several minutes later and again he apologized. "I had no idea the details of this case would cause you such trouble," he said. "With your medical training, I rather expected you to take everything in a more clinical stride."

"Thank you," I replied. "Most of the time you should be correct to think so. But this case has sunk its claws into me in a way I have hardly ever experienced."

"Yes, I can see that," answered my friend. "I cannot recall any other case which has made you so obviously uncomfortable. I hope you will be suitably overjoyed when we solve it."

The hint of a successful conclusion brought a smile to my face, even though the result was by no means certain or imminent. "That's the spirit, Watson," said Holmes as he watched my transformation. "I'll spare you the details."

"Good!" I said. "What have we learned?"

"In warm conditions," he said, "decomposition occurs quite swiftly even in brine. Powdered cleansers have a mild accelerating effect, but spray-on cleaners do even more to speed things up. Presumably they are formulated to do more work with less scrubbing, so they are more efficient chemically."

"That would make sense," I replied, trying hard to grasp what the detective was saying without forming any clear pictures in my mind.

"Dish washing detergents accelerate the decomposition process in a powerful way," he continued, "but laundry detergents even more so. Everyone uses hot water to wash dishes, but modern laundry detergents are formulated to work with cold water, and they appear to be the strongest."

"That makes sense, too," I said.

"I don't even want to describe," continued Holmes, "what the enzyme-based, cold-water laundry detergents did to the chunks of pork."

"I am quite sure I don't want to hear about it," I said.

"Well then, our experiment is finished," he said. "We have learned all we need to learn in this regard, and our results are, to a very large extent, those we should have expected."

"I suppose you're right," I agreed.

"Decomposition is a natural process," continued the detective. "It doesn't need to be started; it just happens. And as we have shown, it doesn't take very much to speed it up."

"How significant," I asked, "would you say these results are to the investigation?"

"If nothing else," replied my friend, "we've shown that Gareth Williams could have been dead less than a week before his body was found in 'an advanced state of decomposition,' especially if an accelerant -- such as laundry detergent -- was added to the bag. Our findings may lend additional credibility to what we heard from Chris and Ceri regarding the final days of Gareth's life.

"We haven't proven that laundry detergent was used to accelerate the decomposition of the body, just as we haven't proven that liquid cleanser was used on the counter tops of the dead man's flat. But we have demonstrated the viability of hypotheses involving the use of such substances to eliminate traces of evidence.

"In that sense," Holmes concluded, "the results of our experiments have been very positive."

"Now," I said, "if we could only get some positive results from the letters you posted yesterday."

"Sometimes," replied my friend, "patience is the most difficult part of the job."