Read For the Love of God and the Arab Rising Page 8

  Chapter Seven: Socially Unacceptable. Cat wakes me up with a kiss to my ear and the smell of strong coffee, and leaves me in the bedroom with the TV on, sipping the coffee and nursing my hangover. Some minutes later she reappears with the black folder and asks me where it came from as she doesn’t recognise it as mine. ’Not now Cat, my head is thumping, give it half an hour or so. It belongs to that pest Ray Mead. He left it in the café that day and I could not resist taking it’. Cat cannot wait, she prods and pokes me until I sit up and fight back. ‘OK, OK, I’m getting up, leave off.’ ‘Let’s take a look and be nosey; after all he did the dirty on us didn’t he.’ We find the usual stuff: pens and a calculator, and a note pad which has a few scribbles about some project works or other, prices, etc. Some business cards and on a much more interesting note; a memory stick. My laptop is on the chest of drawers, so I grab it and start her up. Once she’s up and running I plug the stick into the USB port and start to scan the drive: I see a dozen or so ‘Word’ files, a couple of spreadsheets and a few sub directories. The word files are only quotations for project work, and the spreadsheets prove to be profit and loss predictions for the year, so nothing exciting there. But I do spot a sub directory named: ULONY. My curiosity pushes me onward to find something interesting and what do I find? More Microsoft word files and a sub directory marked: EMAILS. It’s at a time like this that you realise how convenient windows compatible software can be. Opening the first email has me and Cat first looking at each other and then back at the laptop. Bloody Hell, you don’t often see communications like this, with no password protection either. It’s difficult to take in and we really do not believe what we’re reading, actual minutes from a Lodge meeting in New York; the United Lodge Of New York. Cat is asking: Is there actually any interesting facts and information? It’s all right being a Masonic Internal communication, but does it tell us anything. Yes I reply. What is going on here; we both wonder? What are you doing with these? The document is headed by a large emblem: made up of some compasses over a set square. We’ve both seen this symbol before; it’s not uncommon, it’s the standard logo for Freemasonry. The fact that Ray Mead is a Freemason is quite frankly no surprise. But, the fact that Ray has the minutes of a monthly meeting from a lodge over the water is something else. Ray Mead is listed as the courier to the lodge. He is a bloody Masonic courier no less and we are both genuinely surprised. And becoming more interested by the minute as we slowly discover what Mr Ray Mead gets up to in his spare time. Any organisation will have a communication process or protocol and in this instance, Ray Mead is the man. But what lodge does Ray belong to in the UK? Does he only courier for that lodge? Ray must be extremely concerned about losing this and must be trying to keep the situation quiet; his name will be mud for sure. Opening another file reveals a letter addressed to Ray from the ‘Stratford East Masonic Lodge’. It’s an agenda to next month’s periodic meeting, written with a standard lay out. This is the lodge he belongs too. At the top: addresses, expected attendee’s and formal apologies of absence and then a formal introduction to ‘our loyal brethren’. Below that, it goes on to list subjects of agenda, items for clarification, further discussion and final closure of minute points. Item 03 stands out immediately; a Trevor McGovern has been listed as an expelled member of the Stratford East Lodge and a formal close to the matter is to be discussed. This name is familiar and I cannot for the life of me place where I have seen this name before.

  ‘Trevor. Trevor McGovan’. That name is still ringing in my ears some hours later as we return from a shopping trip. Who is that? I decide to investigate and head upstairs to find my laptop one more. Again: It takes a couple of minutes to start up and log into the internet. Typing in ‘Trevor McGovan’ and hitting the return key produces a dozen search strings within a fraction of a second. The modern era of mans innovation and the internet never ceases to amaze me. The first couple of search results are: Trevor McGovan: a life of crime. Trevor McGovan: criminal blights the lives of others. BBC News: The life and crimes of Trevor McGovan. Clicking on and activating the download of the first article: a life of crime reveals a listed article from a news website. What I read doesn’t shock me, but is definitely proving to be an interesting read. McGovern was born and raised in Inverness, Scotland and attended the local primary and secondary schools. It was here that his unpredictable nature, love of unprovoked violence and manipulation of people living in fear of him, soon created a solid reputation for such a young man. Could it really be the same McGovan? Anyone who crossed his path felt controlled or abused and was often described as vile, with no emotional respect for anyone who came into contact with him. Even at the age of fourteen years, when he really became aware of his strength and influence, he was already 5ft 10, but quickly grew to over six foot with shoulders to match; he was a big aggressive guy, who was to be avoided at all costs by the average man. He soon graduated from playground bullying and stealing dinner money, to stealing bicycles, and then receiving stolen cars, breaking them up and selling on the parts. This was a lucrative time for the young man and McGovan had the taste for quick and easy money; but it was not to last and he was arrested for receiving stolen goods. The Glasgow Sheriffs court convicted McGovan of receiving stolen goods and selling them on for profit on 14th August 1989 at the tender age of 19 years. He received a sentence of seven years to be time served at Prestwick Jail in Ayrshire; but served only three years for good behaviour. After the shock of his life being curtailed within the four walls of a jail house, he then seemed to settle down for a few years after being released. But the monotony of a straight life became too much for his excitable criminal mind, he needed some action with the promise of rich rewards.

  McGovan then began to travel throughout South America and Europe, and amassed enough monies to fulfil several property deals. It didn’t take long for him to realise that if he invested the tens of thousands he had made through his property dealing, he could possibly make millions dealing drugs. And during this time of realigning his business activities, at only 27 yrs of age, he managed to secure a recruitment interview to facilitate a proposal for membership to the Stratford East Masonic lodge no: 572. A lodge frequented by a high percentage of police officers. The ties of the brotherhood, given under oath were to prove a fantastic boon to the criminal dealings of Trevor McGovan. If truth be known, it is highly likely that he bribed or intimidated his way through the solid oak doors of Influence and power anyway. It seems to me that the link is here. If this is ‘the’ McGovan; it ties McGovan, a known criminal and Ray Mead to the same lodge.