by Lee Wood
Luckily, Gerry’s wife Paddy had been a bookkeeper with a local firm of accountants, and when the previous owners of the motel had decided to retire, she knew how profitable the business was and how much potential it had for the future. With Gerry’s police pension and their savings, they had worked out it was a good investment.
Over the past few months they had upgraded the rooms from the traditional style of the previous elderly owners to a more contemporary décor that had more appeal to upmarket travellers and at the same time had extended the front of the hotel and were in the process of moving the run-down coffee lounge from the side to a bright modern extension that had been added to the front.
So far half of the bedrooms had been transformed. Out went the frilly curtains and dated furniture and velour headboards. In came fresh paint in nice neutral colours, window blinds and a minimal look with fitted sliding wardrobes where old Victorian dark oak free standing wardrobes had previously been.
“Don’t you want my credit card and details?”
“All in good time. Phil’s vouched for you. He said you’re an honest guy. That’s good enough for me. He said you had gone through some trauma, so I put a miniature whiskey in your room, compliments of the hotel. A drink will help you settle. Then get some rest and tomorrow is another day.”
Roger found his room and entered, switching on the light and seeing the bottle next to the two-seater sofa. He poured a good measure into the glass and drank. It felt good. Really good. His mind couldn’t settle. What had he got himself into? More importantly, how was he going to get out of it? He really hoped Phil had the answer because at that precise moment he didn’t have a clue.
Two hours later, he looked at his watch. 1.30 a.m., Sleep just wasn’t happening. he got up and sat on the two-seater sofa. Gradually his eyelids felt heavy. He made it to the bed and within a few minutes had managed to drop off to sleep.
The alarm on Roger’s watch woke him at his usual time of 6.30am. Time for a shower. No way to shave as he hadn’t arrived with a razor. Perhaps he could borrow one. Or perhaps, for once, he could just go unshaven. What the hell. He had more important things to worry about.
Breakfast at the Milton Motel was served from 7 a.m. As Roger walked in at ten past, he noted three tables were already occupied. The waitress came over, a warm smile on her face.
“Good morning. Table for one is it?”
“Yes please.”
The young waitress led Roger over to a small table near the corner. “Would you like toast and tea or coffee?”
“Yes, toast and coffee would be lovely.”
She placed a menu in front of Roger. “Please help yourself to cereal and juice. I’ll come back and take your order for breakfast shortly.”
Roger studied the menu. He wasn’t sure what the day ahead held for him, but he knew it would be full on, and he would need some strength.
As he sat drinking the coffee, the waitress had brought over and as she took his order for a full English breakfast his phone tinged.
He looked at the message. When you’re ready let me know, and we can discuss your options. Whatever you do, don’t go home. They will have your address by now and could be waiting for you. Phil.
27
The Meeting
After finishing his breakfast, Roger headed back to his room. He needed to be alone. To think about what had happened. To decide what he should do. He’d seen the man who killed his only daughter and her best friend walk free from court. Then he’d seen the same man murder the witness in cold blood and then attempt to murder him.
Deep down he knew O’Connor would stop at nothing to try to kill him. After all, he was now the witness to a murder. He needed advice from someone with more knowledge about these things. He could trust Phil Jones.
Roger sent a text. I’m ready.
Within two minutes, his phone rang.
“Hello, Phil.”
“Hello, Roger. Hope you got some sleep last night. I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ve just spoken with Gerry. He has a small meeting room we can use. Ask the girl on reception; she’ll point you to it. I’ll see you soon.”
Roger waited a couple of minutes and then walked from his room to reception. The girl gave him directions to the meeting room.
The door was open, and he walked in. The room consisted of a table in the centre with four chairs. At the far end were three sofas arranged around a large coffee table.
Just as Roger was deciding where to sit, the door opened and a gentleman in his fifties entered.
“Hello, Roger, Phil Jones. Pleased to meet you again after all these years. Sorry it’s under such bad circumstances but let’s see what we can do to help the situation, shall we?”
Roger sat down at the table. As a businessman, this felt more familiar to him than discussing things on a sofa.
Phil Jones walked over to a percolator. “Would you like a coffee?”
The two sat facing each other, both with their coffee cups on the table. Phil had a thin briefcase which he had laid on the table. He pulled out an A4 size pad and a pen.
“Before we start. I have to warn you. On the record and as an ex-detective, I should advise you to contact the police and give them a statement. Off the record, I would warn you that many of my ex-colleagues who are still in the job believe that the O’Connors have a mole inside the police station. Sadly, I have to say I think you would be in danger if you relied on them to protect you.
“If I’m to help you I need to know the details of what you saw. I’d like you to talk me through everything you can. Start at the beginning and try to give me as much detail as you can. Don’t assume I know anything and don’t leave anything out, no matter how trivial it may seem. I may see things that you aren’t aware of, but I can’t do that unless you tell me everything. Do you understand?”
Roger nodded. “I went to see Mr Gleeson to talk to him and find out why he had changed his statement in court. I was sitting in my car in the car park where he works from the details you sent me. I noticed him walking towards his car and was about to get out when I saw O’Connor and his son Tyson. So I stayed in the car to see what they wanted. I thought they might be meeting him to give him money. I had the idea they might of paid him off.”
Roger went on to explain the details of seeing the shooting.
“My first thought was to drive to the police station, but I remembered from going there to meet the detective in charge of my daughter’s hit and run that the outside doors are on a buzzer. You can’t just open them. I thought if they were right behind me they’d gun me down before I could get inside. So I just drove and as I trawled through my phone to find someone to help, your name came up, and luckily you answered. The rest you know.”
Phil Jones looked up from the pad where he’d been making notes.
“On my way over this morning, I spoke to a friend of mine on the force and got the latest. It appears the security cameras for the car park had the wires cut, so there are no CCTV pictures. That’s probably the reason Kevin and Tyson weren’t wearing hoodies, and you recognised them. Will Gleeson was shot twice. One shot at close range. He didn’t stand a chance. It was a very professional job. Obviously not the first time they’ve done it. It certainly has all the hallmarks of a seasoned professional. You have to make some difficult choices about your future. Do you have other family members? How about your wife or other children? Your parents or brothers or sisters?”
“Julie was my only child. My wife and I are divorced although we still get on okay. Both my parents are alive, but I’m an only child, so no brothers or sisters.”
“The weak spot is going to be your ex-wife and parents. Knowing the O’Connors, they’ll try to get at you any way they can. How about people at work? Anyone you’re close to?”
“Not in a romantic sense if that’s what you’re getting at. But I have a number of people who have worked for me for many years and are very loyal.”
Phil’s voice sounded serio
us. “As you’ve already seen, Kevin is prepared to do whatever it takes to eliminate any witnesses. If he thinks you are a witness to the murder of the security guard, then he’ll come after you with everything he’s got. This is not a man to be underestimated. The police have been trying to get something on him for years. The only time he’s been to prison was a few years ago when he was prosecuted for shoddy building work and taking people’s money under false pretences.
He went on. “You could become a witness and testify in court, but he’s a slippery customer, and there’s no guarantee of a conviction. There have been rumours for years that he’s got someone on the inside at the police station. If that’s true, he could find out where you’re being held before the trial; then you can imagine what he’ll do. I’m not trying to influence you in any way, but you need to think about your next move very carefully. The O’Connor family is ruthless. To be honest with you, I’m not sure what the answer is at the moment. All I know is these people will stop at nothing to find you and kill you. Even if you do decide to involve the police, I’m not sure you’ll be safe. I have to warn you that as long as you stay in Trentbridge, your life is in danger. When we were chatting earlier, you mentioned a cruise due to depart next week.”
“Yes. I booked it a few months ago, before my daughter Julie was killed. It’s a World War One Centenary Cruise to visit France and Belgium. My grandfather was in the war at the Battle of Mons and was one of the first soldiers to receive the 1914 star and due to an act of extreme bravery, he was later awarded the Victoria Cross. So I planned to go and pay my respects both to my grandfather who managed to make it through the war, and to the brave lads who didn’t come back.”
“Is your passport at home?”
“No. Because I make a business trip to Europe every few weeks, I leave it in my safe at work.”
“I suggest you go on the cruise. It will give time for things to settle down and O’Connor is unlikely to find out where you are. It should give us time to think of something. And I would advise you not to go home for any reason. They will probably have your home address by now. They could be waiting for you. You’ll need clothes and stuff for your cruise, but I suggest you buy them just before you get on the ship. In the meantime what are your plans?”
“I’ll stay here for a day or two and think about my options. In the meantime can I hire you exclusively for the next ten days and then we can re-assess the situation?”
“Of course. I think it’s best if you talk to your ex-wife and parents, and explain the situation. I’ll have a word with someone I know at the station ‘on the quiet’ and see if they can arrange for patrol cars to make a regular sweep of their addresses just in case the O’Connors try to do something.
“There’s one other thing I would recommend you do, so you can work out who you can trust. Buy two new Pay As You Go mobile phones. Mark one with an ‘F’ and the other with a ‘P’. Tell the police you have a new number and give them the one with the ‘P’. Give the other number to family and people you really trust. That way you will know if anyone is feeding information to O’Connor.
Three days later when Phil Jones checked with Gerry Payne at the Milton Motel, he was told Roger had paid his bill and left two hours earlier, thanking Gerry for his help but not saying where he intended to go.
Phil was glad that Roger had taken his advice and not told anyone where he was going. He knew Gerry could be trusted, but it meant Roger was following his instructions to the letter.
Roger had phoned Wendy Northgate at his company Trentbridge Engineering. His instruction had been crystal clear. Although the factory had normal security in place, she was to contact Atkins Alarm Systems and have state of the art surveillance cameras and security alarms installed all around the factory with optic fibre feed to their control room. And also speak with Herald Security and have them supply four of their best security people twenty-four hours of the day. No expense was to be spared. Also get the boys in the workshop to install security access barriers to stop any ram raids.
Once Roger was happy his instructions had been understood and would be carried out, he decided he would take the cruise. It was due to leave from Southampton. Before he’d left the Milton Motel, he had arranged for one of his staff members to drop off a company Mercedes in the car park. Wendy had given the staff member a sealed envelope with Roger’s passport inside. If Phil Jones was right then Kevin’s contact at Trentbridge police might have a way of tracing Roger’s Range Rover if he used it on the road. This way he could be fairly certain no one would know his whereabouts.
Seven nights cruising around and seeing the sights of France and Belgium would give him time to think. Something he was extremely good at. His sharp mind and clear vision, especially under pressure had been what had allowed him to build his multi-million-pound business from the ground up. That, and his sheer determination to see things through, no matter what it took.
The ship had set sail on time at 6.30 p.m. After a meal in the luxury dining room he had a couple of drinks in the bar and then made his way back to his room. Maybe it was the fresh sea air, or maybe it was the sheer exhaustion of the last few days but it didn’t take him long to nod off to sleep. To imagine a life in which his daughter was still around.
In his dream, he could see her face as he took her down to the equestrian centre and told her the place was hers. He could feel Julie close to him. It was the first night for as long as he could remember he had slept soundly all night without the recurring nightmare.
28
Eden and Tracy
It was just after 9 p.m., when DI Eden Gold walked into his empty house after stopping off at the local Chinese takeaway. With the long hours he worked and as he was never home, his girlfriend had left him a year after they had moved to Trentbridge and went back to London. He’d just finished his meal and a couple of glasses of wine and was settling down on the sofa, getting ready to watch some football on the Sky Sports channel. The game hadn’t even started when his phone rang informing him of an anonymous 999 call alerting the police to a body in the Saverland staff car park.
DS Tracy Archer had just arrived at her apartment after a visit to Scruffs hair salon, when she got her phone call. She had paid £89 for the privilege of a cut and finish by one of the directors. On top of this, she had left an £11 tip to the young trainee who had washed her hair. Washing hair it seemed was beneath a director. But Tracy had to admit the finished result was worth every penny. Her stunning golden copper hair looked exquisite. Even after the cut, it fell just short of her teardrop-shaped breasts. And with a stunning body, thick curvy lips, round blue eyes, flawless skin and her stunning smile, it was no surprise that before joining the police she’d had offers of a modelling career but what did surprise her friends was when she decided to walk away from it after six months.
As she picked up the newspaper she had bought, it was the date on the front cover that reminded her of the anniversary. Had it really been eight years?
Her father had been a police officer. A detective chief inspector but eight years earlier, while investigating a local corruption case he had told people he was going to meet a potential whistle blower and then simply disappeared. As time went on it was assumed he had been murdered, although no body was ever found and despite a long and extensive investigation, no suspect was ever put in the frame.
By the time Eden arrived at the scene, DS Tracy Archer was already there.
“Hi, Tracy. What have we got?”
“Hi, Eden. It looks like the guy has been shot. His ID says he’s Will Gleeson, ring any bells?”
“The witness in the O’Connor hit and run who suddenly had a memory lapse?”
“Yeah, he worked here as a security guard. That’s his car over there; we found the keys next to it. Looks like he was running away from something, or someone.”
Tracy pointed to the rear of the warehouse. “There’s a camera up there. I’ve got the manager coming back so we can check the footage.”
“Let’s hope whoever did it wasn’t aware of the camera, although knowing our luck they were all hooded up. Any thoughts?”
“You know bloody well what I’m thinking. The same as you. Kevin O’Connor. He must have paid the witness off for the trial, and the guy made the mistake of asking for more.”
“That would make sense. I assume there’s no sign of a break-in at the warehouse, so why else would someone shoot a security guard in a car park.”
“The victim still has his wallet and cards, so the motive doesn’t appear to be robbery. Unless he was into other things we don’t know about. Let’s get a full background check on him. I assume you’ve got someone to go to his address?”
“Yes, one of the first things I did was to run a check on his vehicle and get his home address.”
“We can’t do much more here until forensics have been over it all. Let’s head to his place and see what he’s been up to.”
“We’ll both have to go in your car, Tracy. I had a couple of glasses of wine before I got the call, so I had uniform pick me up. I didn’t want to risk it.”
“No problem, Eden. And I can drop you off at yours.”
It was three years since Eden had moved to the area and started working with Tracy yet he knew very little about her. She seemed like a dedicated officer, although she did make the odd mistake and her paperwork could be a bit shambolic from time to time.
Eden knew he wasn’t perfect. He could be a bit moody when things didn’t go the way he hoped. He knew he was drinking slightly more than he should and needed to exercise more. He had noticed his clothes were getting a bit tight.