by Dave Lacey
“Now list–,” Clarke attempted to interrupt.
“Don’t ever talk over me again,” Roach commanded in a low rumble. “There are two directions this can take. Route A, you tell me, I talk to them, we get the matter resolved. You keep your job and make a tidy sum into the bargain. Route B, you tell me nothing further, things get ugly for me, they get even uglier for you, you make no money, and you lose your job then go to prison. Probably. How does that sound?”
Nothing was said for ten seconds, then the detective replied.
“Sumner and Smith. This is the last t–”
“Good boy. And I’ll tell you when our little partnership is over.” He hung up.
Chapter 14
On Wednesday morning, the result of the triangulation exercise was delivered to Jack and Smithy. It wasn’t great news: the number could not be traced. As they had thought, it was turned off. Its last known location was Alphonse’s apartment in the early hours of the morning he had been killed. Since then, it had not accessed the network. They asked to be notified as soon as the phone was activated again. As they now saw it, their next step was to pursue the triumvirate of Roach, Kingsmith and Moorcroft. They went in to see the chief to inform him of progress to date and their next steps.
“Come in, boys.” He motioned for them to sit down. “Where are we up to?”
“It’s tough at the moment, boss,” said Jack. We’re struggling to come up with anything that looks promising.” Between them, they ran through everything they had discovered up to that point. It was slim pickings, but by the end they had convinced the chief that there was nothing more they could do.
“How do you propose to proceed from here? With regard to the three men you’ve detailed I mean.”
“Well,” Jack proffered. “We’re going to pay them a little visit to get a feel for their whereabouts and such. For the night that Alphonse was killed. We won’t get much from that, but it just might make them feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe uncomfortable enough to sweat a little. And we’re going to keep our fingers crossed that the enigmatic Paul switches on his phone at some point in the near future.
“Failing that, we’ll get Kathy Clancy to sit with a police artist and give us as much detail as she can. Then we’ll visit all of the venues on Canal Street and ask if anybody knows who he is. Failing that, we’ll have to go out a few times and see if we can see him ourselves. But it’s all a bit tenuous for me. I’d like something more substantial.”
“Yes, me too,” agreed Whittaker.
Jack and Smithy decided they would go and visit their prime suspects the following day, and so spent the remainder of today digging through Roach’s business dealings in an attempt to discover anything that may assist them further in their investigation. They knew that if Roach was at the bottom of all of this, it would not be an easy case to resolve.
But, sometimes, that made it all the more pleasing to unearth. His new friends were clearly not the highest calibre individuals who had ever served office in the city. Still, it seemed a bizarre career path to take. At six they decided to call it a day, and headed down to the car park at the rear of the building.
On the way out, Smithy realised he had forgotten his phone charger and said he would catch Jack up. It had been dark for a couple of hours already, but now heavy rain had started again. Jack decided to brave it, and ran across to where his car was parked. As he reached the side of the car, the sound of a sliding door from the vehicle to his right startled him.
Before he could react, he was wrenched off his feet and bundled into the back of a van, a hood jammed over his head. He tried to fight, but was very quickly and powerfully forced onto his belly. He was then hog-tied using cable ties, which rendered him completely incapacitated.
“Don’t struggle, we’re not going to hurt you,” came a gruff voice close to his ear.
“What the fuck are you doing? Do you even know what you’re doing?!”
“Why don’t you let us worry about that, boy?” The same voice again.
“I’m a copper, for Christ’s sake. This is insane.”
“We know exactly what and who you are, Jacky boy. We know who and where your family are too.”
Jack went cold. This was utter madness. Nobody was this stupid. What did they think the result of this was going to be? They had kidnapped a police officer, from outside his place of work. The cameras at the rear of HQ were monitored; his colleagues monitoring the cameras would already have seen what happened. It would only be a matter of minutes before the van was tracked down. As if his assailants had access to his thoughts, another voice spoke.
“Don’t worry, boy, we’re swapping vehicles now.”
Seconds later came the screech of brakes, the two front doors popped open, and the side door slid on its runners. Jack was picked up and carried for a few seconds before being dumped in the boot of a car. Within another minute they were underway again. Jack was almost certain he knew who was behind this and why it was happening, but he was aghast at the audacity of it. He was also pretty certain that he would not be harmed on this occasion, so he began to relax a little.
A pretty good judge of lapsed time, Jack guessed they had been driving for twenty minutes before they came to a stop. Enough time to be out of town. The boot opened, and once more he was lifted and carried to another location. It was quiet, indicating they were indeed out of town. Although he was placed in a chair, his hood remained in place.
“I hope you’ve not been inconvenienced too much?” This was a completely new voice.
“Is that sarcasm?” Jack asked.
“No, I’m quite serious. It’s not my intention that you’re harmed. I simply wanted to talk to you unhindered.”
“Listen, Roach, you’re in for a shitstorm when I get released from here. And to be absolutely honest, even if you kill me, my partner will know exactly what happened and whose door to knock on, so you’re already fucked.”
His captor chuckled, then spoke to one of his men.
“Take off his hood; there seems little point now.”
It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Once they had, he looked around at the gathered throng with intent. Surreptitiously, Jack took in his surroundings. It was a large barn, which re-enforced his belief that they were out of the city.
“This is possibly the stupidest thing that any of you have ever done. And, looking at you, I would think you have all shone in the fuckwit stakes.” Two of them took a step toward him aggressively.
“That’s far enough, boys. I think our friend here is entitled to comment on our set up.”
“What do you want?” Jack asked.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree. With your investigation, that is,” Roach informed him.
“Am I? And what would you know about my investigation?” Jack’s mind whirred into action as he furiously tried to think how Roach would know about his and Smithy’s progress so far.
“I know because I know. That’s none of your concern. You need to drop it now before it even becomes an issue. Neither I, nor any of my associates, had anything to do with the death of that faggot Ngwenye. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ha, you’re a classy guy, Roach. Oh, and I’ll definitely take your word on that – we’ll call the investigation off right away,” Jack scoffed.
“Okay, let’s start again. I apologise for getting slightly out of control.”
“Slightly out of control?” Jack asked calmly, then glared at Roach contemptuously. “I’m tied to a fucking chair with my ankles clamped together, after being driven through the streets of Manchester in the boot of one of your cars. Slightly out of control? Let me go now, and I promise the investigation will be fair.”
“Look! I had nothing to do with Ngwenye. And neither did anybody connected to me!” Jack leaned back slightly. Roach was breathing hard; there was a vein throbbing in his temple, and his lips had pulled back in a snarl.
“That’s immaterial now isn’t it? Kidnapping a copper will be more than
enough.” Jack sat back, tight lipped.
“I am trying to become a legitimate businessman; other things have taken a back seat. I’m cleaning up my act.” He was almost pleading.
“This is definitely not the way to go about it, I can assure you.”
“Ngwenye was a worm, and I didn’t like him I won’t deny it. And I’m certainly not sorry that he’s dead. But it had nothing to do with me. I can’t begin to tell you how far off my radar he was.”
“Then why not just wait until the investigation figured that out by itself? Why do this?”
“Because I panicked.” Roach motioned for his men to leave them in the barn alone. Once they had left, he carried on.
“This recession, well, it’s taken its toll on me and the business. Contracts have been drying up, and people are looking elsewhere.” He looked desperately at Jack, pacing back and forth, panting and gesticulating wildly with his hands. “I can’t afford an investigation to start up and then reach the press. Even if it finds me not guilty, I’ll be finished.” Again he looked at his captive, begging for understanding.
Jack was absolutely nonplussed. This was, without doubt, the most bizarre situation he had ever encountered. He started to laugh. It couldn’t be helped. Roach looked at him as if he had gone mad. Jack actually felt as if he were going mad; he laughed so hard that he was brought back to reality by his bonds cutting into his wrists.
“This is madness. You must understand that? You can’t kidnap anybody, let alone a police officer, just so you can convince them you’re not guilty of a crime. Surely even with your limited mental capacity you can understand that? This top trumps an investigation that sees you acquitted of murder, by an awful long way. You need to untie me and have one of your apes drive me back to the city. Where I am almost certain there will be a city-wide manhunt underway.”
“Oh shit, I…wait….I…”
“Joe? Untie me. Now!”
“Yeah.” Roach walked over, took out a knife and cut the cable ties binding Jack’s ankles and hands. Jack rubbed at the livid red marks round his wrists, angry at the ridiculous lengths Roach had gone to.
“What do I do now?”
“Stay the fuck away from me, that’s what you do.” His face was thunderous as he pointed at Roach, leaving little doubt as to his current feelings. “In the meantime I’ll try to decide how best to proceed.”
“But, please…”
“Don’t bother asking me for anything. Just tell one of your muppets to drive me back into town.”
Chapter 15
The Mechanic, as he was known to his superiors and subordinates alike, was in his office waiting for the call that would tell him how to proceed. He was almost certain there would be more jobs to come; it was unavoidable he felt. Things had quickly gotten out of control. It was amazing really that they had managed to handle things for as long as they had, without having to do the things they were doing now.
And now, if his counterpart across the Atlantic was to be believed, certain adjustments were being made over there too. That made him feel a little better. It was not ideal, certainly, but it was a small price to pay for the eventual outcome. The real test was how to prevent anybody from connecting the dots.
That was the challenge. If that happened…well the whole strategy would have to change. He pondered this, as he had many times in the past few weeks, as he undoubtedly would in the months to come. His intelligence and commitment to the cause were unquestionable. If the situation grew beyond their control, then they would have to bring the operation forward.
This evaluation did not meet with universal approval; in fact, it had terrified many of the men and woman who outranked him but nevertheless relied on his advice. The Mechanic was too experienced to care about what they said or thought. He knew how these things ended, or at least how they usually ended. This one, however, was a bit different. The phone on his desk rang.
“Yes?”
“Good afternoon,” said a familiar voice.
“What news do you have for me?”
“Two from the list have been marked off.”
“I doubt that will be enough. These things have a habit of snowballing. I think we may need to cover the whole list.”
“That will be most difficult; it will need a great deal of thought if we are to effect a plan that will not be…”
“Obvious?”
“Yes, obvious, that is it.”
“I think you should run the plan past me before you put it into action.”
“Of course.”
“Will you use the same person?”
“Yes. He is very good, very careful.”
“Very well. Is there anything else we need to consider?”
“Such as?”
“How close is our friend to finding anything out?”
“Not close at all. At the moment he is unable to make any progress. He is finding it very difficult.”
“Good. Let’s try to make sure that it stays that way. Remember, he’s highly adept in these matters. If a connection is there, he will find it.”
“I understand. You must trust me.”
“I do. I’m just reminding you of the overarching situation.”
“As always, you are correct. I will call you when I have decided how to proceed.”
“Good.” The Mechanic hung up.
***
Jack had been quite right in his assertion – there had indeed been a city-wide hunt for him and his abductors. He had been dropped off two streets from Boyer Street. He had been within a hundred yards of the entrance to the car park when he was spotted. The next hour had been draining, the chief asking question after question. What made it worse was that he had decided not to reveal who had taken him. He couldn’t explain why he did this, but he’d made the decision on the way back to the city in the back of the Audi. For now, he would play dumb. Smithy found him once the hierarchy had finished with him.
“So, what happened?”
“I was bundled into the back of a van and driven somewhere quiet to be questioned. And, well, begged.”
“Begged? By who?”
“By Roach and his goons.” He had also made the decision to confide in Smithy.
“Really? What a dick. Why didn’t you tell the boss that?”
“I honestly don’t know. I just decided on the way back to keep it quiet.”
“What did that lowlife Roach want?”
Jack proceeded to tell Smithy the whole story, holding nothing back. Smithy’s face went through myriad emotions, ending with bemused anger.
“Please don’t tell me you feel sorry for him, and that’s why you haven’t fessed up?”
“Look, I don’t know why, okay.” Jack felt desperately tired all of a sudden. “It’s not that I feel sorry for him, but I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”
“Well that leaves us with absolutely sweet FA in terms of our investigation. So forgive me if I still have my doubts!” Smithy was blazing, his eyes alight with vindictive intent.
“Take it easy, Smithy. At the moment, I just feel tired and pissed off with the whole thing. I just wanna go to bed and start again tomorrow.” He slumped against the lockers and closed his eyes. Smithy exhaled and raised his eyes skyward.
“Okay, I’m sorry. But I think that when you’ve slept, you’ll feel differently about all this.” He swept his arm in an all encompassing gesture.
“Maybe, but for now let’s just leave it.” Jack opened his eyes and looked sideways at Smithy. His friend looked at him with a resigned expression.
“Want me to drive you home?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll drop the roof and hope it clears my head.” Smithy walked his friend out to his car. Jack dropped into the seat, started up the Jag, waved Smithy off and hit the switch that retracted the roof. He was right – the thirty minute motorway journey with the roof down cleared his mind and senses. By the time he reached home, he was utterly exhausted. Without bothering to undress, he slipped off his shoes,
fell onto the bed and was asleep within minutes.
***
The Mechanic was at present unimpressed with the progress made by his current team. His nickname had been bestowed upon him because of his ability to fix things. It was a role he excelled at. He never considered any situation beyond redemption, and as such he was regarded as a prized asset. Currently, however, control was evading him. It was simple, he thought: find the boy and bring him in, question him, then silence him. There were two men working on the project, neither of whom had made any progress. Soon he would have to take up the reins himself, and that would end badly for everybody. He called Clarence.
“Have you found him yet?” he demanded.
“Not yet, no. It’s not as easy as you think.”
“He is a boy, and he has no idea who is looking for him. His lover is dead and he has nowhere to go. How difficult can it be?”
“If you can tell me where to start, it would make my life much easier.”
“I am not here to make your life easier.” He could feel his temper building. “Just do your job.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you are successful, I have other jobs for you. The difficulty will increase with each job you carry out, so I have to be certain that you are the right man for the task.”
“I will prove to you that I am.”
“We shall see.” The Mechanic hung up. Clarence came highly recommended, of course, though he was yet to be convinced entirely of the man’s merits. The recommendation had come with the caveat that at times he enjoyed his work a little too much. That left a sour taste in the mouth, not because The Mechanic found it uncomfortable, but because this work required somebody who was clinical and dispassionate. He could ill afford somebody who wanted to kill purely for the pleasure of it. That often led to errors in his opinion.
Now he had to consider removing Clarence once he had found and dealt with the boy. Still, there was no rush. He could observe the outcome, then make his decision. One thing was for certain – they were definitely going to have to eliminate all of the links in the chain. Once again, this caused him considerable displeasure. And, once more, this was not because he found it distasteful; rather it was because it would raise the risk to a new level and increase the chance of discovery. He would have to approach with caution.