‘So why am I here? How did I get here? What should I do next?’ Frank asked feverishly.
‘The guy I mentioned earlier – Ethan Peteros – he set all this up: all the cameras, the sensors, everything.’ Emet reasoned. ‘He also had this call with us each day, at 5.45am. He arranged the money. The Mayor sold the idea to us, but it was Ethan who paid. He must know something. I’ll call him.’ She dialled his number on her mobile phone and then yanked it from her ear in sheer frustration. ‘He’s unobtainable. Which is odd, because he hardly ever leaves his house. He's the only person in this Subdivision who gets all his meals delivered.’
‘Then that’s what we do.’ Frank told her. ‘We go to his house. We wake him up. We get him to answer my questions.’
Emet agreed. ‘Okay. Okay. I’ll take you there. But we need to be careful. He lives up a hillside where there are no lights.’
‘I’ve spent days where you are the only light.’ Frank told her. ‘I can manage a hillside.’
Emet ran inside her house, grabbed a torch from a cupboard and led him back through the inside kitchen, dining room, lounge and out into the street. She locked the front door behind her. They crossed the street between two sleeping and oblivious dogs and headed down past house after house. They soon came to a narrow lane on their left. Emet swung the torch in front of them and they ran to the other side of the lane. She lowered the beam they could see where they were placing their feet and they headed gingerly, over tree roots and rocks, up the hillside until they reached the angular modernity of Ethan’s home.
‘Quite the place. I wonder where he got the money.’ Frank pondered.
‘Cryptocurrency trading. Or so he said.’ Emet told him.
‘No-one makes this much money from cryptocurrency trading.’ Frank told her. ‘It’s like gambling for gullible geeks.’
‘He has cameras all around this place. He’ll know we’re here.’ Emet told him. ‘Any minute now...’
They waited.
Nothing happened.
They waited some more.
Still nothing.
‘Maybe we need a lower tech solution.’ Frank suggested. He approached the door and rapped hard on it. ‘Ethan? Ethan Peteros? I want to know why you spied on me. I want to know why I am here. Answer me!’
Silence.
Nothing.
‘Maybe we should walk around it. See if he’s somehow asleep. Or in another room.’ Frank suggested.
So that's what they did. Guided by the beam of Emet’s torch, they picked their way carefully around Ethan’s house.
It was in total darkness.
He was not home.
Emet had an idea. She grinned mischievously. ‘You know, Ethan is all into technology. I bet the locks in his house are electronic. I can control my laptop from here. Maybe I can open them.’
‘Wouldn’t that be breaking and entering?’ Frank asked her.
‘Well, you're the cop. You tell me.’ Emet retorted, before trying to justify her plan. ‘Look, we’re not stealing anything. We’re just getting into his house to check if he's okay and see if we can find out why you’re here.’
‘So, trespassing.’
‘No. That would imply that Ethan would not want me here.’
‘And?’
‘Are you kidding? A woman in his house? Emet would roll out the red carpet! Mind you, in my experience, he’d also tread that fine line between cheesy and sleazy, so maybe it’s better to go in there when he’s not around.’
Frank sighed. ‘Okay. See what you can do.’
Emet took put her phone. She clicked on an app. She tilted the phone to landscape view. And she tapped furiously on that phone. And then she swiped and clicked and tapped some more.
They heard a loud click in front of them as a solenoid in the front door shifted.
Emet smiled as she walked towards Ethan’s French doors.. ‘Welcome to Casa Peteros, otherwise known as the House of Eternal Solitude.’
‘That’s a bit mean!’ Frank retorted.
‘His words, not mine.’ Emet replied, with her hand on the door handle. ‘Now, shall we?’
‘Ladies first!’ Frank replied.
‘Coward!’ came the gentle parry.
Emet slid the door open, shone her torch to find a light switch and flicked it on. Above their heads, strip fluorescent lights flickered into life. Frank padded into the room behind her. ‘So this is what cryptocurrency buys you.’ he cooed.
‘Allegedly. Very allegedly.’ Emet replied. ‘Rumour is that his family is seriously loaded, but shipped him off to the bukid because they're ashamed of him.’ She made a beeline for the keyboard on his table and clicked a few keys until the bank of screens in front of them lit up.
‘Woah!’ Frank exclaimed. ‘He was watching every room in my house!’
Emet smiled knowingly. ‘Except the bathroom.’
‘Why not?’
‘Who would want to see anyone making foul noises and excreting urine and faeces?’ Emet told him.
‘So you've never seen UK Parliament TV then?’ Frank quipped. ‘But hold on... you knew! That’s why you wanted us to talk through the bathroom wall!’
‘Give that man the grand prize!’ Emet joked. ‘Okay, so I’ve checked the computer earlier and Ethan was always paperless, so there is only one thing to do.’ She clicked on an app. His last video calls were listed. Emet scrolled through them. ‘Doctor Bedi? At that time of night? Ew! Surely not!’
‘Well she is on HRT with a husband overseas...’ Frank added.
Emet shivered. ‘Yuck!’ she exclaimed. She scrolled a little further. ‘Gotcha!’ she called out. ‘Okay, Detective Chief Inspector Frank Diggory, it's time to find out who you really are and why you're here from the people who placed you here: the CIA and MI6.’
She clicked a button. A video call image appeared on a screen of both of them with two other boxes. A dial tone rang out, before two rather flustered people appeared on the screen: Agents Kaplan and Hughes.
‘What’s the urgency, Peteros? Why was this call not scheduled?’ Kaplan barked, before noticing, ‘Oh, you’re not Peteros.’
‘No, he’s way better looking.’ Emet interjected.
Agent Hughes piped up. ‘Hello, DCI Diggory. Long time no see.’ She looked at Frank’s rather quizzical face. ‘You do know you're DCI Frank Diggory, don’t you?’
‘He does now.’ Emet snapped, irritated at what had happened to Frank.
‘I just don’t know who you are. Or why I’m here. Or who I really am. And I’d like to know.’ Frank told them, still a little rattled by all that was happening.
Agent Kaplan folded his arms in resistance. ‘That’s classified.’ he snapped.
Agent Hughes was a little more amenable. ‘Well, you could submit a Subject Access Request, in writing, but we would still reserve the right to withhold some information if deemed necessary.’
Emet had enough of this nonsense. ‘Stop this! Just stop! This man lost his memory – likely while working for one of you. He has a right to know who he is. If you know, you have to tell him.’ she argued. ‘Put yourself in his place for a minute. Wouldn’t you like to know?’
‘Ma’am, I don’t know who you are, but this is Langley, not the hippy state of California. No-one has the right to know anything here. I mean, even our presidents know nothing. And we like it that way.’ Agent Kaplan replied.
‘No, she’s right.’ Agent Hughes sighed in resignation. ‘He should know, Moise. He has the right. But, DCI Diggory, I feel it may help you to have Doctor Bedi around. What you are about to hear may come as a shock.’
‘Snowflakes! What are you? Gen Z or something?’ Agent Kaplan pouted.
‘I am just concerned for his welfare, Moise.’ Agent Hughes told him as she typed into her keyboard to dial in Doctor Bedi.
‘Oh, yeah, and the reason America became the greatest nation in the world is because we care about other people’s welfare.’ Agent Kaplan mocked. ‘Or our own welfare.’
‘And we care too much about your welfare to tell you that you’re not.’ Agent Hughes spiked back.
Doctor Bedi, resplendent in a night gown and big curlers, as well as a Korean face mask, answered the call. ‘Okay, I understand that the CIA and MI6 have summoned me, but can I ask why my preparation for the 6am ferry to Cebu has been so rudely interrupted?’ she snarled.
‘Frank Diggory needs to know who he is. MI6 thought you should be available to help with any shock, because they care for his welfare, apparently.’ Emet explained.
‘Like the British cared about our welfare during the Partition, huh? Where were your therapy sessions then?’ Doctor Bedi sighed. ‘Okay, go ahead. But since it’s after midnight, I am on double time.’
Agent Hughes began. ‘You were a DCI working for Police Scotland. You developed a close attachment to a young female journalist, Iona Miekle.’
Emet interrupted. ‘Was it romantic?’ she blurted. ‘His attachment – was it of a romantic nature?’
‘We do not believe so.’ Agent Hughes told her. ‘Anyway, this attachment did not last long. She was working on a lead relating to an Albanian people smuggling gang operating in Glasgow when she was murdered by a car bomb.’
Emet clapped her hands over her mouth in shock.
Frank just stood there, mute, unable to move or do or say anything. Stunned.
‘Police Scotland investigated and caught the people responsible, before decimating the gang. However, while they were investigating they uncovered that the Albanians did not know Iona was on their tail or her whereabouts until this information was leaked to them by a rival Turkish gang. Also, the bomb was a highly sophisticated IED that the Albanians lacked the capability to make.’ Agent Hughes paused for a second to recollect her thoughts. ‘We believe the Turks did this to take the Albanians out – so the police would go after them and remove their competition.’
Frank shook his head in horror.
‘So where does Frank come in?’ Emet asked.
‘We tried to bring the Turkish gang to justice, but it was impossible. It was as if they had a friend somewhere in high places who was either tipping them off or preventing prosecutions. When we caught them, they were so smug, because they knew we were powerless – the CPS would just order their unconditional release every time. Frank was part of an international undercover police operation – Operation Barium – designed to infiltrate the gang and ultimately destroy it.’
‘But the Catholic priest...?’ Frank asked.
‘Father Pavel Wlodarczyk? He was the means of passing information to the Albanians that led to Iona’s murder.’ Agent Hughes informed him.
‘The women I trafficked?’ Even those words pierced Frank’s heart like lance.
‘DCI Diggory, you did not traffic those women. You set them free.’ Agent Hughes told him. ‘You just had to make it look like they were being trafficked by a rival gang so that the Turks didn’t realise it was you.’
‘And the guy I beat up at the casino?’ Frank asked.
‘Emre Can? The Turkish hoodlum who received the information that led to Iona’s death.’ Agent Hughes replied. ‘You phoned in his arrest. He spent two weeks in cuffs at the Royal Infirmary, but then we had to let him go. Friends in high places.’
‘Okay, and the... lady of the night?’ Frank asked, a little tentatively, given Emet was standing right next to him.
‘Eileen McCulloch? An informer in the Turkish gang. She gave you something, we believe.’ Agent Hughes stated.
‘So long as it didn’t require a course of antibiotics.’ Emet quipped dryly.
‘I remember that, but I can’t remember what it was or where it is. What about the big guy she poisoned?’ Frank asked.
‘Grant Gillespie? Doing time for multiple assaults, GBH, attempted murder, murder, parole breaches. That fella’s been charged so often that if he gets one more, we’ll give him ten more years for free.’ Agent Hughes explained.
‘Okay, and the nightclub?’ Frank asked.
‘You were approaching another informer, a Romanian: Ruxandra Enache. She had to push you away – she knew one of the Turks was watching you. The man you accidentally stabbed? Erhan Osman. A relative, we believe of the gang leader, Orhan Osman.’ Agent Hughes told him.
‘And I thought all the Osman’s did was make cheesy music in the 1970’s.’ Emet muttered.
‘But how did I end up here?’ Frank asked.
‘You were making way too much noise, Frankie-boy.’ Agent Kaplan interjected. ‘You can’t go around knocking holes in senior gangland figures without someone knowing who you are. So we moved you out here. Embedded you in an anti-trafficking PNP team. Of course, you then raided a webcam hut in Tondo, and what do you find? Osman’s dirty fingerprints all over it.’
‘And my accident?’
‘The driver died, but we found enough evidence that it was Osman’s gang.’ Agent Kaplan told him.
‘But why here?’ Frank asked.
Agent Kaplan laid it out. ‘Blame a local policewoman: Captain Reyna Bautista. She’s the main reason why you’re here. She can be very persuasive.’
‘Who did she persuade and does his wife know?’ Emet asked bitterly.
‘Oh, you know her, then?’ Agent Kaplan asked rhetorically. ‘Although in this case it was a wife, and no, her husband did not. But I believe Bautista is engaged now. She’s going straight, in every sense.’
‘So you knew I had a head injury that had given me amnesia...’ Frank began.
‘And we hid you here, at Mayor Alvarez's and Captain Bautista’s behest, with Peteros’ help, until you remembered.’ Agent Hughes added.
‘But what happens if I remember?’ Frank asked.
‘We pull off one of the greatest prosecutions this world has ever known and bring down a huge criminal gang, as well as the fools who support them. We hope.’ Agent Kaplan told him.
‘But what about Paraiso? What will happen to it then?’ Frank asked.
‘No more CIA and MI6 money.’ Agent Hughes explained.
‘Yeah. They’ll have to go back to selling fish door to door and their young people to other countries, just like every other village in the Philippines.’ Agent Kaplan stated cynically. ‘The money train will stop. They’ll have to make their own way for a change.’
‘But me? What will happen to me?’ Frank asked.
By now Doctor Bedi has almost fallen asleep, but jolted herself awake all of a sudden to contribute to the conversation. ‘You’ll be a hero, Mister Diggory. Which should suit your relentless narcissism quite well. I, on the other hand, will be an HRT infused doctor, leaving for Singapore tomorrow, where I will find men who do not know that I have a husband at sea...’
Emet waved at her to stop. ‘We don’t need to know the details.’
‘Shame, because I am looking forward to exploring them.’ Doctor Bedi winked.
‘Okay. Thank you. I appreciate the honesty. Now I know. Just let me digest what I've heard.’ Frank told them.
‘So we can go now? Great. Now I can get some more beauty sleep and enjoy my last night alone. Remember: double time!’ Doctor Bedi told them as she logged off.
‘Hang in there, Frank.’ Agent Hughes told him. ‘You’ll get there in the end.’
‘Yeah, but make it before those idiots in the House of Representatives fail to approve the budget again, because that’s when the money runs dry.’ Agent Kaplan told him.
Both agents signed off on the call.
‘So what will you do now, Frank?’ Emet asked him.
Frank shrugged his shoulders. ‘Just be me, I guess. Until I remember. Then... I don’t know.’
With that, they left Ethan's house, locked the door electronically, made their way carefully down the hill, guided by Emet’s light, and returned to their beds in separate houses.
Not realising that they were being watched the whole time.
And not just by Ethan’s cameras.
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