BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists

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BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists Page 7

by Charlie Gallagher


  ‘I can hear you’re a woman in demand, ma’am. I’ll get it sorted here in custody.’

  ‘Thanks, Darren.’ She pressed the button hard to end the call. ‘For nothing.’

  The mobile phone was still ringing. The display showed “unknown number.”

  ‘How goes it? I take it you had a good result yesterday evening, Chief Superintendent?’

  Helen immediately recognised Ed Kavski’s voice.

  ‘This isn’t the best time,’ she said.

  Someone was tapping at the door.

  ‘Yes?’ she called out. Then into the phone, ‘Ed, one second.’

  Jean appeared round the door and mouthed the word “sorry.” Her cheeks were red, and she looked flustered.

  ‘It’s fine, Jean. What’s the matter?’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am, it’s the chief. He’s here.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Here. Outside, waiting to speak to you.’

  ‘Okay, Jean. Get the man a coffee will you, or something. I’ll be right out.’

  The door clicked shut. Helen lifted the phone back to her ear. ‘Ed, this isn’t a good time at all, you’ll have to wait.’

  ‘There’s no need. Just confirm the job went down clean and you got your man.’

  Helen knew exactly what Ed was after. He was making sure there were no loose ends, nothing that could get back to him.

  ‘Yes, Ed. There were some complications, but we got the man.’

  ‘And the gear?’

  ‘I need to go now, Ed. The chief is outside my office door.’

  ‘The chief indeed. Say hello for me, will you? Is my man bailed for the drugs to be tested?’

  ‘Look, Ed, there were some issues. We got the gear, the chief will be happy with that. It should be enough to appease him for now, so job done. Thank you for your part.’

  ‘What happened to my guy?’ Ed’s tone changed, he sounded suspicious.

  ‘We’re releasing him now. He won’t be facing any further action from us. Look, I can’t see how that’s any of your concern anyway. I really have to go.’

  ‘You’re releasing him? Why would you do that?’

  ‘These things happen, Ed. I can’t talk.’

  ‘These things don’t happen!’ Ed paused. ‘Unless you lot offered him a deal? Got him to talk to you about where the shit was from and where it was going?’

  Helen grinned. It was a bit of a turn up for the arrogant shit to be feeling the pressure for once. She could tell him the truth — Lennokshire Police fucked up big style — but he would revel in that. Then he’d swan off until he needed her again. Fuck him, he could sweat until she needed him.

  ‘I wasn’t party to the conversation, Mr Kavski. These sorts of things can happen, you and I both know that, but he didn’t know anything about your organisation anyway. What could he offer in return?’

  ‘Well, he must’ve found something.’

  Helen’s smile grew more mischievous. ‘Or maybe he now needs to.’

  She ended the call as the knocks at her door began to sound impatient.

  * * *

  Ed Kavski moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. His jovial expression had morphed into a vicious snarl.

  ‘No further action!’ he said aloud. He had enough experience of policing, and of jobs like the one he had handed Lennokshire Police on a plate, to know what that meant.

  He prodded at his phone again, moving through his contacts. ‘Gee,’ he snarled.

  ‘Wassup?’ Lee Chivers evidently realised that this wasn’t a time for small talk.

  ‘Your man, John, got me that driver?’

  ‘With the sick kid, yeah.’

  ‘Three kilos of heroin on his passenger seat.’

  ‘Yeah, at least.’

  ‘He’s being released from Langthorne nick. They’re kicking him out right now, no further action.’

  ‘You lost me.’

  ‘No further action, Gee. You ever heard of that before for a man with three kilos of fucking gear? No, you haven’t.’

  ‘What you saying?’

  ‘What I’m saying,’ Ed spat, ‘Is that we got ourselves a fucking rat. That is what I’m saying. There ain’t no other way he walks from there.’

  ‘Piece of shit. I’ll kill him.’

  Ed gritted his teeth. ‘Not before we find out what the cunt said. This is a problem. Think about what he knows, what damage he might be able to do, and find him. And you call me when you have.’

  ‘Leave the cunt to me.’

  Ed ended the call.

  CHAPTER 11

  ‘Sir!’ Helen got to her feet as the chief walked in, clutching a clear plastic bag in his hand.

  ‘Sit down, Helen, for fuck’s sake.’

  Helen did as she was told. She pulled nervously at her skirt. The chief remained standing.

  ‘Having a bad day?’ he said.

  ‘A bad day?’

  ‘I was just going to say that Langthorne has had better, but I can’t quite remember when. What is it with this little corner of my county? I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, it seems. I remember a night not so long ago when the previous area commander was found hanging by the neck using his own belt at this very police station. On the same night my predecessor was found in bits under the wheels of a car within a couple of miles from here. We had inspectors dead, PCs shot, a sergeant nicked, children in hospital, and no sign of any offender. A bloody disaster. All on your watch, Helen.’

  He paused. Helen leant forward a little. ‘You can’t lay the blame for that at my door.’

  ‘And then,’ the chief ignored her. ‘And then I get the top job, and I think I’ll stick my neck out and let you sort the fucking mess out. Steer Langthorne back to calmer waters. I put you in the role of area commander. We spoke at the time. It wasn’t a demotion, it was an opportunity to make good, to show me and the whole force that my faith in you was right, that you could lead this area out of its biggest ever disaster. And what happened then?’

  Helen gritted her teeth. She knew what was coming.

  ‘Six police officers dead in little over a week, murdered by the very man who had been in our custody, in the cells of this station no less, who we released so he could continue with his spree. Then more officers had to die chasing the fucker down.’ The chief leant on her desk, his hands taking his weight.

  ‘I am well aware of what happened that day,’ Helen said, meeting his gaze.

  ‘Well, of course you are!’ The chief pushed himself back off the table. He turned and began to pace the office, coming to a halt at the slatted blinds covering the tall windows. He tugged at a cord to spin them shut.

  ‘Of course you’re aware, because you were very much involved, every step of the way, weren’t you, Chief Superintendent? You were at the helm, where I put you, leading this division. With one of your members of staff torturing and murdering others. And how do you react when you get hold of him? You order uniform officers to shoot him dead! Fuck knows he might have deserved it, but the whole world was looking, Helen, the whole fucking world, and you were ordering a man to be shot and killed rather than face justice, the law of the land, what we all swore to uphold.’

  Helen crossed her arms. ‘I’ve already had your bollocking for that incident, for that whole terrible experience.’ She felt herself losing control. She wouldn’t sit there and be lectured again, not by this man.

  ‘But they don’t end, do they, Helen? Here we are again, another first-class cock-up.’

  Helen came back at him. ‘Where were you? When the whole world was looking, as you put it. Where were you? Well I know where you were — at just about the right distance away for absolute deniability. Sure, I have to accept the blame for what happened during that investigation, but you shouldn’t be lecturing me, trying to make me feel small, you should be slapping me on the back and thanking me for being the fall guy, so you didn’t have to be. You played that perfectly, sir. Yes, I made mistakes, but I didn’t have the luxury of
staying away, far enough from what was happening to scrutinise the actions of those directly involved. Where were you?’

  The chief said nothing for a long time. His hands made fists then came open again. ‘If you aren’t capable of running your area, of running major incidents, if you require micro-managing from those above you, maybe this isn’t where you should be. Maybe you need less responsibility. Maybe you’re not as capable as you like to think you are.’

  ‘So what do you want? My resignation? I came to you when George Elms was in custody and I told you everything that had happened. I told you immediately what I had said over the radio and I offered to step aside. And you persuaded me to stay, you reminded me how much pressure I had been under. You told me that those tapes were irrelevant, because George Elms wasn’t shot and wasn’t killed. And you told me that I should continue in this role, that the officers under my control needed stability, not change.’

  ‘Why is there a quarter of a million pounds of evidence still smoking in one of your offices downstairs? I spoke to the fire brigade briefly on the way up here. They told me with absolute certainty that it was deliberate.’ The chief threw the bag onto Helen’s keyboard. She stared at it. It was a piece of clear, melted plastic sealed inside a police evidence bag.

  ‘What is this?’ she said.

  ‘The container for the accelerant your arsonist used. Appears it had strong alcohol in it. They’ve obviously not been able to test it properly yet, but there’s little doubt that this is what got that fire burning. And if you were still left in any doubt, the CCTV camera on the CSI’s corridor has been moved to point directly at the ceiling and the last seven days footage has been wiped off the whole system.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Still stinging from the chief’s attack, she now seethed with rage at the knowledge that one of her staff members had deliberately sabotaged her evidence.

  ‘Jesus, indeed. He might just be the only person that could sort out this fucking mess. I’ve got officers down here who’ve lost it. They’re stopping me in the corridors and in the canteen and they’re telling me we’re not doing enough for the fallen officers and their families. They’re all still shell-shocked out there, Helen. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve got no hold on them at all. Morale is non-existent and I don’t see anything that has been put in place to stop the next mad gunman going on his rampage.’

  Helen stood up. ‘It’s going to take us all time to get over what happened. It’s just a few months since six of their colleagues were slaughtered, and we were all given the benefit of listening to them die. You don’t just move on from that. You don’t just come back into work happy to get on with your job, happy to answer the next call. Not when you know only too well that those poor fucking saps were just answering calls when they got shot. They never stood a chance. I never stood a chance, nor did this police force. We just need a little time to heal.’

  ‘This security guard. The same night as George Elms runs riot, this ex-copper gets beaten to within an inch of his life. His poor ex-police dog wasn’t so lucky. The bloke has become a focal point for the whole force. He’s seen as the survivor from that night, their little beacon of hope. But there’s no suspect for it, and from what I understand there’s no sign of one. I’m getting constant pressure, constant criticism, that we don’t appear to have a clue what’s going on. I spoke to you a week ago, and you told me there’d be a breakthrough by the time I came down here to open this arch commemorating the very officers that fell those few months ago. Perfect, I thought, my opportunity to stand in front of that increasingly angry, increasingly frustrated group of officers, who are very quickly turning their backs on their employers — on me — and tell them about this major breakthrough. That this attack on the police family will not be tolerated, that someone will answer for it. And you phone me and tell me that this won’t be the case, but you do have a significant drug job. And this is what is left of it!’ The chief gestured at the bag still lying on the keyboard. ‘A piece of melted plastic. Well, let me tell you, this was a significant job, Helen, because it was the final nail in a long row of coffins full of my fucking officers.’

  ‘You’re sacking me?’

  ‘If only. I’ve done my homework and that would appear to be more hassle than it’s worth. Personnel insists that the tapes of you ordering that man dead would be the only sure-fire way of getting you out, but it wouldn’t be clean. You’d be suspended, the tapes would go to the IPCC, the press would then have full access, and the force would get dragged through the mud once again. This force has taken an absolute battering. The only clean way for this to end, for us to be able to start rebuilding, is for you to resign, Helen. Walk away into the sunset. Your pension should still keep you in business suits and open-neck blouses.’

  Helen slumped back into her chair. ‘So those cowards in personnel are all briefed and ready to go, are they? I bet they can’t wait.’

  ‘No, actually, they won’t be expecting your resignation, Helen, no one will. I can’t be the one making that decision. However, I think that if you sit here and take a few minutes to have a look at what has happened with you over the last few years of your career, what has happened here on your watch, I think you’ll take the decision yourself. As far as personnel goes, it will just be a nice surprise for them.’

  Helen forced a kind of half smile. ‘You talk about the force being dragged through the mud. It’s you that would be under scrutiny. You’re trying to save your own arse, not Lennokshire Police. Don’t think you’re fooling anyone.’

  ‘I am Lennokshire Police, Helen. And you are nothing more than a fuck-up within it. You have your options: resign and walk away with whatever you can scrape together from your career, or stick to your guns and be publicly pulled apart, every part of your working life scrutinised until I step in and throw you out. By that time the media will be begging for it, and we can save the tax payer some money topping up your pension. Take that route and I will personally make sure you answer for conspiracy to murder.’

  ‘You bastard.’ But Helen knew she was beaten.

  ‘Maybe. But I have to start protecting Lennokshire Police, Helen, something that you have failed to do on a massive scale. I will expect your resignation by tomorrow morning. An email will do. Fuck it, stick it on a fag packet for all I care, just make sure you make the right call. Save this force and save yourself, Helen. Who knows what grubby little misdemeanours you have managed to keep a lid on.’

  Helen jumped to her feet and stood square to the chief, clenching her fists. For once in her career, in her life even, she couldn’t find the words to express her rage. It took every ounce of her energy to stop herself from lashing out, and smacking that fat, spineless piece of shit right in his red face.

  The chief took a step backwards. ‘Oh, and Helen, your last duty will be to attend this memorial ceremony. Don’t think you can let your force down one last time. I’ll see you there.’

  The chief slammed the door shut as he left. A meeting that had lasted just a few minutes had effectively ended twenty years of hard work, of building a career. Helen felt angry, upset, and empty all at once. But more than anything else, she just felt foolish.

  She sat down, ignoring the desk phone that eventually stopped ringing, to be replaced by a gentle tapping at the door. She had nothing left to say to anyone.

  CHAPTER 12

  Barry Lance shuffled uncomfortably in the queue. He checked his watch again and sighed loudly. An admin clerk was conversing with the woman at the till about how this might be the sunniest September he could remember.

  The man in front of Barry, interjected. ‘Do you mind if I just get this?’ He thrust a quickly cooling cup of tea towards the lady.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, Angie,’ said the clerk, taking the hint and hurriedly walking away.

  ‘Anything else?’ she asked.

  ‘And whatever this man is having, please.’ The man gestured to Barry, who lifted his eyes in surprise.

  ‘Oh, there’s n
o need. I’ll order in a second.’

  ‘I insist,’ the man said. ‘I need a minute of your time, sir, if that’s in order.’

  Barry checked his watch again. ‘I’m tight on time today.’

  ‘Then let’s speed this up. What are you having?’

  ‘I’ll have the scrambled egg on brown toast.’

  The man smiled. ‘And just the toast for me.’

  Without a word, the woman walked to the kitchen area and out of sight.

  ‘I’m Paul Baern, sir. I don’t believe we’ve met.’ Paul held out his hand.

  ‘I know who you are,’ Barry replied.

  ‘Seems to happen a lot, that. I’ve started thinking that maybe it isn’t a compliment.’ Paul smiled.

  Barry fidgeted uncomfortably and was relieved that his eggs arrived quickly.

  ‘Scrambled egg on toast and plain toast.’

  Paul thanked the woman and paid. He led the way to an area off to the right, against a window. There was no one else in that section of the canteen, the room as a whole was very quiet. Barry still felt uncomfortable.

  ‘What’s this about, Paul? Only I really don’t have long.’ He wasn’t lying. He had a meeting with his team in ten minutes’ time. After the last job, which had ended with their target unconscious in a ditch, he needed to have a debrief with them. The job had been far from clean. Mistakes had been made, and he demanded better from them.

  ‘Just a few minutes,’ Paul replied.

  ‘You have two.’

  ‘George Elms,’ Paul said.

  ‘How did I know that man was going to come up?’ Barry cut into his toast.

  ‘What’s your opinion on him?’

  Barry lifted his eyes to Paul’s. ‘You want my opinion on a man that killed six police officers in cold blood? Who then turned a gun on me and my men? He stabbed that girl more than thirty times, I hear. Do you really need my opinion?’

  ‘I know he didn’t.’ Paul picked up a triangle of toast and bit into it. It gave Barry a chance to reply.

  ‘He said he did.’

  Paul took his time. ‘There has to be a reason for that. Because I know he didn’t.’

 

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