Old Crackers
Page 36
“Bloody hell.” muttered Frank.
“You’re not kidding.” Terry shook his head slowly as he spoke the words.
“That was as good a snatch as you’ll ever see,” muttered Reg.
“He didn’t half plan it well,” agreed Roy. “Absolutely perfect,” he added with a big smile.
As they spoke, Norman Pendleton followed his officers out of the pub door, then returned with a photographer moments later. The man took a few shots of the pub’s interior, then left the premises.
Norman crossed the room and took a seat with the old guys. For the first time that day, he was smiling.
“Fantastic!” grinned Frank.
“Thanks, mate,” said Norman. “We do our best.”
“You and your lads were perfect,” added Terry. “That was brilliant planning and great execution. By the way, Norman,” he went on, “whilst I think about it, Harrison’s BMW is parked outside, and it will probably still have the tracking device fixed to it. It’s fastened under the car’s wheel arch, and Frank still has the tracker control that recorded the car’s whereabouts on the day of the murders.”
“Excellent,” nodded Norman. “It will be very useful, but no longer essential. It looks like we’ve got more than enough evidence to hand now. The soil on the spades is a good match for the type of soil in the woods, and the guns that we found in Harrison’s safe also match up to the shell casings that we found around the scene as well. There are also a few bits of forensics here and there that we’re still waiting for.”
“Do you reckon it’s done then?”
“Yes, lads. It’s nothing more than an absolute certainty. No judge on earth would let those buggers go. Jed Thomas is off the map forever, and these guys will go down for a very long time indeed.”
“Good result then?”
“It was a cracker.”
*
The day wasn’t the hottest one, but it was warm enough for Frank Lloyd to invite his three old friends around to sit together in the garden, and to enjoy a drink or two. In a little while, they would eat as well. It would be nothing too extravagant, just their usual favourite burgers and a few French fries.
“I guess you’ve all seen the papers,” he asked as he placed the drinks across the table top.
“I have,” said Terry.
“Me too,” added Reg.
“Not me though,” smiled Roy. “I don’t get one these days, there’s far too much rubbish in them!”
“You should have got this one.”
“Why? What’s so good about this one?”
“I despair, Roy,” muttered Reg. “Have you not been following the case?”
“What case?”
“Bloody hell, Roy. Which case do you think we would be talking about? The one that we cracked.”
“Oh, that one.”
“Yes, that one!”
“No, sorry, I haven’t.”
“OK,” sighed Frank. “I’ll tell you then. Harrison and his unruly mob have all been sent down for thirty years.”
“Brilliant.”
“Yes, it is, mate. They’ll probably never do them all, but they’ll be in for a hell of a long time, and by the time they all get out, they should no longer be a threat to anyone.”
“The town’s a lot better already without the two gangs,” said Roy.
“It certainly is,” agreed Reg.
Frank picked up his tablet from the table top, keyed in a few buttons, and handed it to Roy.
“Have a look.”
Roy put his glasses on and stared at the screen for several seconds.
“Excellent,” he finally said, handing it back to Frank.
As Frank was taking the phone from his hand, it buzzed.
“News app,” he muttered, before looking at its glass front.
Frank stared at the screen for several seconds, then switched it off, placing the gadget on the table. The smile on his face had disappeared.
“What’s up, Frank?”
Frank didn’t answer immediately. His brown eyes were lowered to the table top.
Finally, he slowly lifted his head and faced his friends. “I don’t believe this, fellas, but a teenage boy has been found dead in one of the South Shore parks.”
THE END