The George Elms Trilogy Box Set

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘How did you know the link with Shaun in there? What’s going on?’

  ‘I didn’t, Ryker. Not for sure. It just didn’t feel right to me. I couldn’t get hold of Shaun and that assault on you all was too perfect. All our cars are tracked. If you had access to that system, knowledge of jamming radios and could listen in to communication between the two cars you could carry off that snatch with perfection. Without any one of those things it wasn’t even doable.’

  ‘So it had to be a copper.’

  ‘And one with a motivation to get hold of Nowak. Shaun lived in Sussex for a while, too, before he transferred to Langthorne. Then we got lucky in that fat boy in there doesn’t perform well under a bit of pressure.’

  ‘So what does Shaun do now?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure. But I think he’s got himself his own Plan B.’

  ‘We need to find him.’

  ‘Because he hit you?’

  ‘Because he’s going to get himself killed.’

  ‘Do me a favour . . . Call the PNC bureau and get the Vectra’s details uploaded to the ANPR hotlist. But I don’t want it broadcast if it pings, I want us to know and nobody else. I can’t run the risk of it being stopped. And try and get an idea where’s it been pinging in the last 24 hours.’

  ‘I’ll use my intel excuses. We can put a silent marker on it. I can review the ANPR hits back at the office.’

  ‘You can, but I plan another diversion. You fancy going to see a drug dealer?’

  ‘Hell, yeah! You really know how to treat a lady . . .’

  Chapter 18

  Midday. Shaun had turned on the earpiece ten minutes before, as instructed. He wasn’t sure what the battery life was like for the equipment he had been given. It looked much slicker than the set he had used for covert operations. The earpiece was Bluetooth, the battery pack and the radio itself all one slim piece of plastic. The channel was a digital display: a black four against a green background.

  Right on time, a small light flashed on the top of the radio unit. His earpiece whooshed then a voice came as clear as a smartphone call.

  ‘It’s midday, Shaun. It’s been quite a time, right?’ A male voice, a little older than him perhaps. Well-spoken — a slight cockney accent maybe? But then so many people were imitating Londoners these days that he couldn’t be sure.

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Straight to business! I guess I should appreciate that.’

  ‘Just tell me what you want and give me my family back. I don’t care about anything else.’

  ‘Ideal. You’re doing very well. You will need some tools for the next part. Go to the front desk of the Grand Mersin Hotel in Langthorne. Do you know it?’

  ‘I know it.’ Shaun knew it by reputation only: shit hole.

  ‘Good. There is a package there for you. You are booked into Room 224. Take the package to the room. We will talk again then.’

  ‘Wait! I need to—’ The sound in his earpiece changed back to the constant whoosh. The man was gone.

  Shaun walked back to the silver Vauxhall and got into the driver’s seat.

  ‘What now?’

  Shaun met eyes with Nowak in the rear-view mirror. He was sitting awkwardly, his hands cuffed to the door handle.

  ‘We move.’

  ‘You don’t kill me yet?’

  ‘I’m not here to kill you.’

  ‘Who you talk to? They will kill me then.’

  Shaun spun in his seat, ‘Right now you’re alive. You should be thankful for that.’

  * * *

  The hotel car park was mainly at the rear, but there was some overflow parking underground. The slope down to it was so sharp that the front of the Vectra grounded out where it levelled. Shaun found a space as far in as he could. He was one of only four other vehicles. When he tugged the rear door open, he forgot that Nowak was attached to it.

  ‘Now what?’ Nowak said.

  ‘We check in.’

  ‘I don’t.’ Nowak smiled. ‘Why would I do as you say?’

  Shaun unlocked the cuff attached to the door handle and wrapped it round his other wrist. He slid off his jacket and folded it over the cuffs to conceal them.

  ‘I’ll shout for help.’ Nowak said.

  ‘Do it.’ Shaun pulled his warrant card from his pocket. ‘I’m a police officer. Anyone challenges me and I’m simply on an operation down here and you are under arrest. We are conducting a search and then I’ll be conveying you to custody.’

  ‘’You’re not a cop!’

  ‘I am. And I’m trying to keep you alive. I work for Witness Protection. We have information that the gang you used to work for have people inside the police, but I couldn’t find out who. There was a credible threat to your life today and I pulled you out before anything could happen. We don’t do this sort of thing lightly, Mr Nowak. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier.’

  ‘You’re lying. You hit me!’

  ‘I can understand you being cautious. I’m sorry I hit you, but I didn’t exactly have time to explain. I just needed you to do what you were told. If you don’t believe me, feel free to try your luck when we get into the hotel. If you shout and scream loud enough someone will call the police. I cannot be compromised, Mr Nowak, so I will leave and let my police colleagues pick you up. It might all turn out just fine for you — our intelligence might be wrong. But the only way I can guarantee you reach Witness Protection is that you remain with me. Your choice.’

  ‘Those other men . . . they police too?’

  ‘They were. They’re trying to get a hold on this threat as we speak. I get left to do the babysitting.’

  ‘Babysitting?’

  ‘English term. Don’t worry about it.’

  Shaun stepped back from the car. He walked to the boot and took out a bag. He pulled out his police issue radio and switched it on. It immediately projected excited voices.

  ‘Looks like we got away clean.’ For Nowak’s benefit, Shaun hesitated with the radio in his hand — he knew it was an effective prop if Nowak was to believe him.

  ‘So why handcuffs?’

  ‘I don’t know you. I don’t trust people I don’t know.’

  Nowak pushed the door closed with his elbow. ‘Lead the way.’

  The Grand Merson lived up to its reputation immediately. It was a huge, imposing building with sharp edges that were slowly crumbling into disrepair. The revolving doors to the entrance wheezed and jerked to a start as Shaun and Nowak approached. The woman behind the desk wore an ill-fitting uniform that reminded Shaun of flight attendants a couple of decades before.

  ‘Can I help you, sir?’ The woman smiled. Shaun had been concerned that she would react to Nowak’s bloody mouth, his sprawling tattoo running up the side of his neck and the dried blood on his neck wound. But she smiled like it was any other day.

  ‘I have a room booked. 224.’

  ‘She looked down and clicked a mouse. ‘Mr Carter?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘For two nights.’

  ‘Err, yes, that’s right. Thank you.’

  The woman turned to rows of pegs jutting out of a wooden board behind. The key came with an oversized pendant.

  ‘And did you have a package for me?’

  ‘Ah.’ The smile still held. She moved through to an office at the rear, she reappeared in seconds. She put a box on the desk, it was shoebox size, wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘Enjoy your stay!’

  ‘Thanks.’ Shaun eyed the parcel. He lifted it off the counter, it was heavier than he had expected.

  ‘Second floor, out of the lift and it is on the left!’ The woman called out. Shaun heard her but did nothing to acknowledge.

  Chapter 19

  The approach to the grey, pebble-dashed council house was through any number of bikes, bits of bikes and upturned bins. The grass was long and unkempt, the front of the house was flat and featureless. There were greying net curtains in each of the windows and George couldn’t see in
. He knocked on the door. A dog barked immediately. It sounded small but the immediate thud against the door suggested otherwise. He waited for a minute or so. Besides a lot more thuds there was no other sign of movement.

  ‘You reckon this is the best address?’ George turned to Ryker who had backed away to get a view of any twitching curtains on the first floor. She had made some furtive calls during the drive to get the most recent intel on their target.

  ‘It’s where we’ve had the best success before. But he’s got around thirty addresses linked to him. None of them show as his home address.

  ‘But this is the missus, right?’

  ‘Yeah. Sometimes.’

  George knocked again. He took some of his frustration out on the door. The dog went banzai in response.

  ‘Hang on!’ A gruff voice from the other side. ‘I’ll just put the dog away, yeah?’

  George smiled at Ryker. ‘I just wasn’t knocking right.’

  The dog barking didn’t relent, but it did get a little quieter. The door was pulled tentatively open, a slim woman in tight-fitting jeans and a vest top stood in the gap. She was probably late thirties, but the bad skin and shading under her eyes made it difficult to age her. Her hair was tied back firmly.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you. I was hoping to speak to Damon.’

  ‘Damon ain’t here.’ The gruffness in her voice now suited her. ‘I ain’t seen Damon for ages.’

  ‘I thought he lived here?’

  ‘He don’t live nowhere. What do you lot want with him?’

  George smiled. He hadn’t shown his warrant or mentioned he was police, but she had known instantly. ‘Just to talk to him. He might be able to help us with something that’s rather urgent.’

  ‘He getting nicked?’

  ‘No, not at all. The last time he got nicked from here we sent out a whole tactical team, right? I wouldn’t turn up here in me best tie, now would I?’

  ‘Yeah. He don’t like you lot. I’m sure it ain’t personal.’

  ‘I’m sure it is.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t seen him.’

  ‘Any idea where he might be?’

  The woman shrugged. ‘Got fuck all to do with me what he does, know what I mean?’ Her forced laugh revealed browned teeth.

  ‘Thanks for your help.’

  Back in the car, George paused. ‘So where did you say he would be?’

  ‘I told you he wouldn’t be there, George, didn’t I. It’s my job to know where people are, all the recent intel shows him out serving up heroin during the day. He’ll be in or around the park on Canterbury Road.’

  ‘I heard you. And I knew you were right.’

  Ryker made a face. ‘So why did you just waste my time knocking on her door?’

  ‘Because that’s his missus, right? She’ll have called him already, told him the filth are looking for him. So when we find him there’s a good chance he won’t run away. For once, we really do just want to speak to him. I’m not interested in the forty deals he’s got stuffed in his underwear.’

  Ryker smiled. ‘You’ve done this before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Once or twice.’

  Damon Alcott didn’t run. He was sitting on a bench on Canterbury Road, the alleyway to the park directly behind him. His legs were splayed wide apart as he eyed the Skoda and its occupants as it pulled up beside him. With hands firmly in his pockets, Damon was doing his best to look disinterested as they approached, but George knew his interest had been spiked.

  ‘You the copper what wants to speak to me?’ He had to raise his voice over the din of the traffic.

  George had known the name from somewhere. He remembered him now. He had dealt drugs all his life. George had contended with him and his brother when they’d been quite the formidable team in town and run the scene for a while. George recalled that the brother had died from an overdose a few years back and that Damon couldn’t hold onto the scene on his own — not since he got addicted himself. There was always someone bigger and more ambitious ready to take over a patch. Every bit of Damon looked small time now: his worn tracksuit bottoms tucked into tatty Nike trainers, an oversized hoody covering his wiry frame and a DIY haircut, his brown tufts jutting out at differing lengths.

  ‘Long time no see.’ George said by way of introduction. He didn’t bother offering his hand — no telling where Damon’s had been.

  ‘I know you?’

  ‘Long time ago. I certainly know you. You and your brother were working together then.’

  ‘All your lot know me.’ Damon was clearly proud. ‘My brother been gone five year.’

  ‘Like I said, long time.’

  ‘So what do you need?’

  ‘Your help.’

  ‘Why would I help you?’

  ‘Someone’s in danger. A woman and a young kid. I think you can help us find where they are before they get hurt.’

  ‘I don’t know nothing about no woman and kid.’

  ‘You know about a gang, though. There’s a new setup in town, sends out messages by the name of “T”.’

  ‘So you say.’

  ‘I guess that’s who you’re working for these days.’

  ‘Self-employed me. Always have been.’

  ‘Tell me about Bobby Leonard.’

  ‘He’s dead, mate. Suicide. Not much more I can tell you.’

  ‘I think there’s a lot more. That’s not being investigated as a suicide, Damon. We know he was manipulated to jump, to take his own life. He left behind a little lad who really needed him. I know you don’t care about that, Damon. I won’t even try appealing to your good nature. But I know you’re interested in protecting yourself.’

  ‘What you mean?’

  ‘You went to see Bobby. He got paid to go up on top of that bridge where he died. There are serious offences there, Damon, and yours is the only name I have that I can link to them.’

  Damon suddenly got to his feet, he freed his hands from his pockets. ‘I thought you weren’t nicking me? It’ll take more than you and your bitch there.’

  ‘I’m not. I could, Damon, but I’m not.’

  ‘You think you could?’ Damon stepped in closer. George ignored his snarl, kept his eyes locked and stood his ground. He was close enough to Damon to feel his stinking breath.

  ‘Not a single fucking doubt in my mind. But I don’t think it would do me any good. I don’t think you’re the man who put up the money. The man who put up the money is running the show in this town right now. He ain’t out here, plucking deals from his arse for a tenner a go.’ George locked eyes. Damon broke off first. He stepped back. He picked up a carrier bag from beside the bench.

  ‘We’re done, yeah? You trying to rile me up so you can take me in for a bit of sport? I’m older now — I don’t go for that shit no more. And even if I did, you wouldn’t get nothing from searching me.’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t. You’ve had enough time to sort that out. I just want to know the name of the main man in the town. And how to find him. I don’t care about small time dealers, Damon.’

  ‘Why the fuck would I talk to you?’

  ‘Tell me what I need to know. Or my next stop is a crackhouse I know half a mile from here with a search team parked round the corner. They go through the door and everyone’s arse gets searched.’ George raised his voice. ‘Ryker? Where’s that new setup?’

  ‘Green Lane. Bottom flat of the new-build on the left.’

  George watched every detail of Damon’s face and knew that Ryker’s intelligence was bang on the nail.

  ‘What do I care if you go knocking on some other fucker’s door?’

  ‘You care, Damon, because I’m careless. Horrible fuckers in there — London boys if I’m right. Maybe sent here by the very man I need to find. I’m going to search their arses, then I’m going to ask them about their man. And I’m going to make sure they know I got the information from you. All of it.’

  ‘You didn’t get nothing from me man!’

  ‘You’re right. But t
hen, as we both know from our respective career paths, the truth isn’t really what matters, is it?’

  ‘You won’t do that. Coppers don’t go round talking like that. You lot can’t go and put people in strife — they’d fucking kill me!’

  ‘And they know all that, same as you do. So when I slip up and drop your name, they’ll absolutely know it’s true.’

  ‘You fucking wouldn’t.’

  ‘I’m a desperate man, Damon. We don’t have much time. Ask yourself, do I value the life of an innocent woman and her little boy over yours? Because that’s the decision for me. It’s a simple one, right?’

  ‘You lot have a pop at us, but you’re the scum.’

  ‘That might be right, Damon. But I suggest we continue this conversation in the car. How many people do you think have seen you talking to us while we’ve been stood here? All you’re doing is making me more believable.’

  Damon swore. Then swaggered into the back seat of the Skoda. George drove them all somewhere a little quieter.

  * * *

  The hotel room was basic. An off-white wardrobe fixed to the wall on the left that made opening the door difficult. There was a bathroom immediately to the right. It was clean but tired, a theme that continued into the room itself, where two single beds were separated by the width of a bedside unit. The beds both pointed at a small tube television that sat on a slim desk against the wall. Shaun locked the door. He took the key with him as he walked the length of the room to the window. They were a long way up. He peered down at the activity below. Cars moved, people walked, the boats in Langthorne harbour opposite fidgeted as the tide nudged them while sweeping in over the exposed mudflats. Nothing looked out of place, but then Shaun had no idea what he should be looking for. He put his bag on the bed closest to the window.

  ‘So why all the effort for me?’ Nowak stood by the entrance to the bathroom.

  Shaun shrugged. ‘Who said it was for you? There’s a much bigger picture than just keeping you alive.’

  ‘You need information from me?’

  ‘Yes. Urgently. And the more information you give me the easier it is to keep you safe. We need to know what we’re up against.’

  ‘Animals. These people, they are like animals.’