Marius

by Laurence Todd

  “What happened after that?” I asked after a few seconds.

  “Had him buried in a shallow grave somewhere.” He was nodding to himself again. “I mean, killings and beatings are what they have people like Big Dunc for, but Ahmed did this one himself. It was personal, y’see? The bloke was someone he trusted. Took it as a personal slight.” He shrugged. “That’s why he did it.”

  I sighed. I thought scenes like this only happened in films like Goodfellas. “Is this true?”

  “It’s the unofficial version. Officially, the man concerned left London to go back to Turkey to take care of his elderly parents. But the word I heard from a source who says he saw it was Ahmed killed him for stealing money instead of asking.” He looked at me as he spoke. “When I first heard the story, I wasn’t sure I believed it either, so I checked immigration records. Bloke never left the country, there’s no record of his ever arriving in Turkey either. He’s not been seen since and his name’s never mentioned, so draw your own conclusions. Me? I’m inclined to believe Ahmed did it.” Glett laughed. “Just as well it was Ahmed who topped him. Turk got off lightly. Ali, the oldest brother, the big boss, would have chopped him to pieces with a scimitar or something like that, and fuck knows what Ehmat or Maroun would’ve done to the poor bastard, especially Maroun. At least Ahmed killed him quickly.”

  I took in what he’d said. I wasn’t about to face up to a Cub Scouts leader.

  “You know these sweethearts better than me,” I said. “You had to guess, which one of Ali’s brothers would be the most likely to step out of line and help out the IRA?”

  He thought for several seconds, chewing whatever it was and nodding. “From what I know, it’d be Ehmat. That bastard’d get into bed with the devil if there was money in it for him and the family. I could easily imagine him in cahoots with the IRA and helping them out if he could. Not so sure about the other two, but definitely not Ahmed.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks. That’s why I wanna see Ahmed. I have it on good authority he’s opposed to the family getting in too deep with the IRA, thinks it’s a mistake. If I can get that confirmed from him, I’ll go after Duncan. If I know the family’s divided, that’ll make picking Duncan off so much easier.”

  “How’d you know that about Ahmed?” Glett asked.

  “Someone who knows someone.” I grinned at him.

  We sat for a couple more minutes.

  “Right, I’m gonna see what I can get from Ahmed,” I said. “I’ll hang back here.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked up the loose stone driveway. I could feel the reassuring presence of my service pistol in its holster under my left shoulder. I rang the doorbell and immediately heard loud, insistent dog barking. The door was opened by Ahmed himself. I could see a woman behind him trying to pull the dog, a big excitable black Labrador, into the kitchen. She succeeded but it was still barking at a rate of knots, even with the door closed.

  “Saw you coming, you and your friend down there.” He nodded towards Glett, who was leaning back against the car and watching with what looked like amused detachment.

  Ahmed was slightly shorter than me but he had the stocky build of an all-in wrestler, despite the developing paunch hanging over his belt. He was swarthy and had a shock of black curly hair. His cheeks were puffed out as though he had marshmallows stuffed in his mouth. I formed the impression he would be quite a handful if roused to violence. I guessed he was probably late thirties.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. He was looking warily at me.

  “Ahmed Chackarti? DS McGraw, Special Branch.” I showed ID. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “About?”

  “Oh, about ten or so minutes, maybe.” I grinned.

  He admitted me into his house. The hallway was wider than Taylor’s lounge and had more space than my entire flat in Acton. He led me into his well-furnished study and closed the door. He had a desk and went and sat behind it. He gestured to a chair, but I decided to remain standing.

  I looked around the room. It was more an office than a room for socialising, with filing cabinets, laptops, ledgers and books about accounts on the shelves behind him.

  He closed the laptop on his desk.

  “Don’t think I know you,” he began. He spoke like a well-to-do accountant.

  I smiled sarcastically. “Know lots of police, do you?”

  “What do you want?” He got down to business.

  “I’m just gonna tell you a few things, Ahmed, and then you decide what you think should be done about them. Fair enough?”

  “Okay,” he agreed. I began.

  “You and I both know your family recently helped some rogue IRA unit acquire the vehicles they used for car bombings last week. Don’t bother trying to deny it, we both know it happened. How does Special Branch know this? We caught the guy who stole the cars they used and he named names: several of them, in fact. Sang like a bloody canary, he did.”

  I could name White with equanimity. He was dead, so, even if Ahmed knew who’d stolen the two cars, there was nothing he could do. He sat looking unmoved, but I knew he’d heard what I’d said.

  “I’ve had it confirmed by someone high up in the family you’re opposed to any dealings with these people when it comes to bombs and terrorism.” I caught his eye as I spoke. “My sources also tell me one of your brothers is doing this for someone outside the family. I’d be very interested in knowing who this person is.”

  “You would, eh?” he said neutrally.

  “Yeah, I would indeed,” I agreed. “There’ve already been three deaths since last Saturday, one by a car bomb, two from inside your own organisation, including someone who’s middle management in the family hierarchy, so to speak. Been with you some while. I could tell you their names, but we both know who they are, don’t we?”

  He sat impassively, not responding to what I was saying, but I could see his eyes were fixed on me. I paused a moment.

  “I also have it on good authority the two deaths inside your little empire were actually sanctioned and carried out by people inside the family.” I emphasised the point. “Sounds to me like someone’s covering something up, doesn’t it?”

  Again, no response. I paused a few more moments.

  “Well, whatever. I just thought I’d stop by and let you know the Branch is aware of what the family’s doing helping this IRA unit.”

  I stopped and looked around the room again. “Oh yeah, you’ll be interested in this one. It hasn’t made the news yet, but we found a weapons cache recently with a lot of Semtex inside. You people start playing with that, we’re talking significant casualties, women and children and the like, and, when that happens, we’ll be all over you people like fleas on a dog. You want a shitstorm of trouble coming your way, you keep on helping out bombers. But, you do that, you’d better be ready to take some big financial hits, Ahmed, because we’ll be shutting you down all over the place. Your accountant’ll be so worried when we’ve finished closing down all the scams we know about, he’ll probably top himself.” I grinned at him.

  Ahmed gave the appearance of being uncomfortable. He’d heard what I’d said but was unsure of the next move.

  “Even your police protection’ll run for cover when they hear the name IRA. No police officer,” I stressed, “will stand by and watch lives being taken by bombings. They might turn a blind eye to drugs and pornography and whatever else, but not bombings.”

  His expression was now a little more serious.

  “So, you gonna talk to me or do we start closing down your operations one by one? All it’ll take is one phone call from me, just one, to start the ball rolling. We’ll start at Las Vargas, and I’ll put money on our finding something there. Then we’ll move on to someplace else and repeat the process. How you gonna explain this to your brothers?”

  I gave him several seconds to think. He looked like he was using them.

  “But, come on, Ahmed, it doesn’t have to be like this. Anyway, we both know if we
shut you down in one place, you’ll simply open up someplace else, so all we’ll be doing is causing you aggravation and a day’s lost profit.” I paused. “But you answer a few questions, and not only do we leave everything in place, I guarantee nobody’ll ever know we talked. I won’t even tell my parish priest next time I go to confession.” I smirked.

  This brought a brief smile on his face. He sat quietly for several more seconds, his hands clasped together on the desk. He sighed audibly, and then looked me directly in the eyes for a number of seconds. I went to take out my police radio. Then he spoke.

  “I want nothing to do with bombs and bombings.” He spoke quietly but emphatically. “They’re not good for business. People who make bombs are lunatics, but, what can I say, he’s my brother.”

  “You can say his name, that’s what you can say,” I challenged him.

  He was quiet again for several more seconds.

  “It’s Ehmat.” Glett had been proven correct. “I don’t know why, but he’s helping this IRA man out. He said he’s been assured of police and political protection, which is why he gave the word to go steal some cars for the bombs, but to make sure it doesn’t get mixed up with family business. That’s why he used people who’re small-time to do the stealing. I mean, I love my brother, but he’s mixing with some bad people.”

  And the family’s composed of members of a local prayer group, I thought.

  “Police and political protection? That’s some claim to make. Who assured him of this?” I asked. I was intrigued. Anyone making a claim like this had to have significant clout, especially if they were able to make it come true. I then remembered Gary White saying he thought he’d be protected if arrested. Who had enough clout to make such a claim?

  “I don’t know, but whoever it is, he assured Ehmat he’ll be safe if he helps him out.”

  “So, how did Ehmat get involved with this person? Being a criminal overlord is one thing, but it’s a different world when bombings are involved.”

  “That I don’t know. He just said one day, in a family meeting with all the brothers, he’s going to be doing a big favour for this person who has a connection with the IRA. He intimated they’re coming out of hiding and are going to start campaigning again. He used that word, campaigning, though I knew what he meant.”

  “What about others on the family council?”

  The family was run, it was said in police criminal intelligence circles, by a council of the four brothers and three cousins, plus a few other non-family members who were tried and trusted, almost like non-executive directors. The council was a boys’ club only, no women allowed at the top table. The father was still alive and retired, though he occasionally sat in on meetings. Stanley Simpson had been a council member before being arrested and jailed earlier last year. Did they all know about this? How many people could be trusted with something like this?

  “Only my brothers know. Not even our cousins know.”

  “Does your father know about this?”

  “No.” He shook his head slowly. “This has been kept from him.”

  “What about Ali and Maroun? What did they think?”

  “They trust Ehmat not to do anything stupid, and not to hurt business. Me? I think it’s a mistake, a blind alley. The Chackarti family is a business. My brothers and I, we’re not terrorists, we’re businessmen,” he assured me, sounding indignant anyone could even think otherwise.

  Of course you’re not, I thought. Thugs, crooks, extortionists and murderers, but not terrorists. I’ll bet your mother’s very proud of you all.

  “Did you know Ali’s driver is also involved?” I asked him.

  “Yes. He’s working with Ehmat on this,” he said, sounding sorrowful. “And, no, Ali does not know. It would hurt Ali if he were to learn this. He trusts the man you’re referring to.”

  “He’s the one I’m going to be talking to next. I won’t mention your name. Then I’m going to talk to Ehmat. Again, no names, or at least not yours.”

  “Thank you.” He stood up. “I won’t mention your visit either. I want nothing to do with anyone who believes in bombings and the unnecessary taking of life,” he said solemnly.

  I presumed the Turkish man he was said to have strangled was the necessary taking of life.

  “I don’t know why my brother sees this as something we should be involved in.” He then looked at me with a curious expression. “How did you know to come to me about this? How do you know my feelings about this?”

  “Some people inside your family just talk too much, pal. I asked questions, they answered.” I shrugged. “Sometimes, police work really is that simple.”

  It had actually been Charles Doyle, but I wasn’t telling Ahmed Chackarti that.

  *

  Glett was still languidly leaning against the car when I returned.

  “You were right,” I said. “It’s Ehmat who’s involved.”

  “So, what next?”

  “Go find Big Dunc, tell him the good news.”

  *

  We parked just along the road from George Duncan’s house. I could see some very expensive top-of-the-range cars parked in driveways along the road, including two brand new Maseratis. Duncan’s Land Rover was still in the driveway. He’d obviously seen us coming, or maybe he’d been watching out for a return police visit, and he came out to meet us on his driveway. He had the look of inevitability on his face.

  “This is becoming bloody harassment, you cops keep coming round here all the time.” He didn’t look happy at our presence. “This is the third time. I think I’ll get on to my brief, tell him about all this harassment.”

  “Sounds like advanced paranoia to me, George. This is part of an investigation into the discovery of a cache of explosives and weaponry. Your fingerprints have been found in the house where the people we believe to be responsible for them were staying,” I said calmly. “That links you to terrorism, because it sounds to us like you might know who these people are. So, get your jacket, you’re coming with us. You’ve some questions to answer.”

  I could see his eyes moving rapidly between Glett and me. From his expression, it appeared he was actually considering which one of us two he could rush and take physically. Given his size he could probably take us both. I adjusted my posture slightly and readied my right hand, flexing my fingers. He didn’t move. I waited ten seconds.

  “Okay, Dunc.” I sneered at his name. “You’re a viable suspect in a terrorist investigation, we’ve enough cause to take you in and you’ve refused to comply with a lawful police request. You’re under arrest.” I gestured at him. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “You think that’s a good idea?” Glett said quietly. “Get him in a station, he’ll lawyer up, say nothing and it’ll become adversarial. Be easier to talk here.”

  Duncan nodded his agreement.

  Terrorist suspects have no automatic right to legal counsel once in custody. The normal rules of access to legal advice don’t apply where terrorism’s concerned. I’d have to remind Glett about this later, rather than in front of a suspect.

  Duncan stood motionless, looking directly at me and taking deep breaths. Was he thinking of coming at me? I was holding his stare, psyching myself up to be jumped and subtly altering my body position, hoping I’d be quick enough to slug him before he grabbed me. The stand-off lasted several seconds, then, against my better judgement, I agreed with Glett. I needed Duncan to talk. He probably would clam up inside a police station, and Ahmed Chackarti was unlikely to come riding to the rescue and substantiate my story.

  “One chance. You don’t talk, we call back-up and take you in.”

  He turned suddenly and walked back into his house. We followed. I glanced around. There were a few women walking with their children at the far end of the road, and a UPS delivery van was pulling up further along the road, but nobody had seen the drama as we’d been protected by the bushes. I found myself wondering whether Glett or I would have pulled a gun on him had he turned violent.<
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  In the house we entered the main lounge, where he immediately sat down in an armchair. The room had a pleasant flowery scent, which gave the heady sensation of early spring, though it was early autumn, and a good view of the front garden. I briefly glanced around the room and, from the décor and paintings on the wall, this had the definite feel of a woman’s homemaking touches, though I doubted a thug like Duncan even noticed what she’d done.

  Glett sat adjacent to Duncan on the settee. I stood opposite Glett so Duncan had to turn his head to see both of us. I formally cautioned George Duncan before I started. He acknowledged it.

  “Okay, George, here’s your situation.”

  I reiterated the story of the car bombs, discovering a rogue IRA connection and our finding the car thieves, one of whom had pointed out he’d been asked to do what he did by Barry Mates. Duncan sat motionless.

  “But, before Mates died, he pointed the finger at you, saying he told these two losers to go steal a couple of cars as a favour to you, as you’d asked him to get it done. I mean, how’d you think we got onto Mates, eh? Wasn’t by black magic. When we explained to Mates that what he’d done was aid and abet terrorism, and he’d been fingered by the person he’d told to go steal the cars, he realised he was looking at something he didn’t like and didn’t want any part of. You with me so far? Not going too fast, am I?” I grinned at him. He shook his head.

  “Right, so now we find this cache of weapons and explosives I mentioned earlier, and we’re sure we know who placed them where they were found. We trace them to an address in Kidbrooke, but when we get there the suspects have fled, so we’re looking for them. The thing is, though, George,” – I paused to ensure he was listening – “dusting their house, your fingerprints were found there, mate. So we can tie you to the two cars used for car bombs and to a house where suspected IRA bombers were staying. That’s easily enough to have you brought in as a suspect.” I paused again. “Still think this is harassment?”