The Hunt for Ibrahim Al-Sudat

The last few entries from the personal diary of James Elliott

Monday 14th February

Had a phone call from Myra's uncle. Apparently Lillian Cooke has been in touch and trying to contact me. She was a friend of Myra's. I think I met her once before. She wanted to meet up. I am a little wary as, if I remember correctly, she is a reporter. As I am on the point of signing an exclusive deal with the Observer, the last thing I want to do is blow it. As she will be coming down from Nottingham I suggest we meet at Casa Mamma in Gray's Inn Road, as it is only a short walk from King's Cross.

Wednesday 16th February

Dinner with Lillian. Pleasant enough and she really did seem to want to talk about Myra rather than pump me for stuff on Gallows Hill.

Friday 18th February

Everything signed and sealed with the Observer. They have the copy, and I have also given them all the digital photos and video footage I got. The video is pretty scrappy as it was taken with a mobile phone. However they like the pictures of the bird-bath in the auction house and desecrated grave. They also want a number of pictures around Ravensworth. I agreed to go up and spend the weekend showing a photographer, Ralph Hobson, around. Not a thrilling prospect, but no doubt Mum and Dad will be glad to see me.

Saturday 19th February

Got to Ravensworth at about lunch-time. Had a very quick lunch to make the most of the remaining day-light. Needed to do the auction house today as it will be shut tomorrow, and the graveyard as doing photography there on a Sunday would be likely to be frowned on. Boring as hell. I was very relieved when come 5pm it was deemed too dark for further photography.

Sunday 20th February

An unreasonably early start for a Sunday to make the most of the light. Ravensworth Hall and Baxter's old house, then onto Gallows Hill. The place has changed rather a lot. It almost looked like someone has embarked on a building development. A large section of hedge has gone. There is a small car park and the track up the hill has been tarmacked. A lot of vegetation has been cleared well back on either side of the track. The track is blocked by a padlocked gate. There were two cars in the car park. Ralph asked me to check out the track and see if it gets to the top. He is going to try driving the car around the side of the gate, as he doesn't fancy lugging all his kit up the hill.

I got up top and found three people there. One is Lillian Cooke with a friend of hers called Aries, and a lady called Heather who doesn't seem to know them. The trees have been stripped of all their branches and bark. The ground seems to have been scraped clean. Ralph seems disappointed by the lack of anything left to photograph. The one thing that does interest him is the foundation of the gallows. Everyone seems to want to come back at night. Seems fairly pointless. I decide I ought to be there if only to have someone sensible on hand if anything like the last time happens, albeit hopefully with less undergrowth it won't be so scary. Given that Lillian writes for the Fortean Times and Aries is prattling about 'energies', which Heather seems to be taking at face value, I think this lot are as suggestible as the last lot.

Ralph sets off home at sunset taking the car. I will get a taxi in the morning.

Then I get a phone call from Bernard Connelly. I was tempted not to take it, but that would require explaining things to Mum that I would rather not. Bernard said he had some stuff of Myra's that he wanted to give to me. He asked to arrange a meeting in Manchester and I agreed to 11am. He made predictable threats about coming alone. As soon as he was off the phone, I nipped round to George's place to use his phone. I phoned my security services emergency number and told them about Connelly. They said they would phone me back to tell me what to do. About an hour later I was phoned by Heather. Apparently she is a spook. I am to make the rendezvous. I phoned Lillian to tell her that I wasn't going up Gallows Hill, as I need to get to bed at a sensible hour.

Monday 21 February

I borrowed Mum's car and set off at 8 am. I really should have set off a bit earlier. I was about 10 minutes late. After about half an hour wondering around I was approached by a vino. I thought he was just begging but he knew my name. He had a message from Connelly, "Meet at Piccadilly Gardens at midnight.... I don't want anyone else to be hurt." I didn't like that 'else' at all. Heather got in touch and I explained what was being demanded. I phoned Mum and explained that I wouldn't be back until the early hours. She wasn't pleased but understands. I spent the day looking around Manchester. Took in the Technology Museum and film, and finally met up with Heather and her team.

I was not at all pleased with her team. It is Elisa Jamieson and Adam Walters. Firstly I don't rate either of them as competent, and I know that Connelly knows what both of them looks like. With enormous misgivings I agreed to go ahead. I arrived about five minutes before midnight and started wandering around in the middle. About ten past twelve, a wino with a couple of carrier bags came round a corner approaching me and I realised it was Connelly. He looked terrible, ten to twenty years older. He sat down on a bench. I stood next to him. He said he was glad the terrorist had been shot dead but he had left a 'device' which was going to cause trouble. He told me that I should go to the house where the guy had been shot and that someone there would be able to tell us where the device was. He asked me to promise that I would go there. I promised to ensure the house was visited, which he seemed to find adequate. He said he was giving me some of Myra's property and some of his own. He thought I should have it. He also said he was giving me the address of the house. He left one of the bags on the bench and walked off hugging the other bag. I left the bag on the bench and moved to where I could watch it. Shortly afterwards I was joined by Walters who picked up the bag.

A few minutes later there was a (female) scream from the direction that Connelly had left. Walters, Jamieson and myself all headed off in that direction. Heather was there with a hysterical woman and a catatonic man. They gave the two some treatment until the ambulance arrived. Heather claimed she had seen something in the alley across the road. We both went across. The alley was empty but there was a frozen puddle with a couple of enormous bird claw prints in it. It wasn't cold enough for ice to form naturally. I suppose that Connelly could have had some liquid nitrogen with him but it seemed a rather elaborate hoax. I took some photographs of it.

We then all retired to a hotel and booked in. In one of the rooms we examined the contents of the bags. Packed in newspaper were all the items bought at the auction; the binoculars, the mask, the whistle and the 'Uncommon Prayer Book'. There was also the address of the house.

Tuesday 22 February

I decided to go along with Heather's team to this house. It was boarded up. I had no problem getting on to the wall and helping the others over. At the back, we broke in. The place showed signs of a gun battle. Connelly had said that the mask would be necessary. Jamieson put it on and started seeing things. The long and the short of it was that he was convinced he had spoken with the dead and that the thing was at Alderley Edge, a village and beauty spot south of Manchester.

We all headed off to Alderley Edge. It seems there have been a number of disappearances thereabouts recently. A courting couple have disappeared, leaving their car behind, and a couple of children are missing (albeit one has probably been snatched by his dad).

On arrival in the village, most of the others disappeared off to look around and I tried an Internet search. Regrettably, there is so much fiction and crank-postings about Alderley Edge that if there is anything of any relevance it is lost in the noise. Then there was a knock on the window and there was Lillian. She invited me round to Aries' shop, where we find Jamieson is already snooping around. The previous night's events comes up and there are some unguarded comments. Aries gets over excited when he hears we saw Connelly and decides that he should phone the police. So we all leave sharpish and I phone the intelligence emergency number to tell them about the incident. I decide that I really do need to get the car back to Mum, so I set off home.

That evening I phoned the Observer. They would like me to investigate further so will hire a car and go back to Alderley Edge tomorrow.

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Regretfully, this is the last entry in James' diary. The next day, he returned to Alderley Edge and vanished in to the woods, despite advice to the contrary. Witnesses described his manner as 'grimly intent'. He was found some hours later by specialist MI13 operatives, in a state of severe nervous collapse. He is currently undergoing treatment in a specialist psychiatric unit.