A Death in Autumn

by Jim McGrath

  Solihull, 12.45hrs

  It started to rain as Rhodes pulled up outside Yolande Cunningham’s house. It seemed to add to the worry that had enveloped the house and which Collins felt as he walked up the path. Several windows had the curtains drawn and there was a stillness that Collins usually took as a sign that the house was empty.

  Yolande answered the door. She was dressed to go out.

  ‘I’m sorry Michael, I’m just off to the hospital. They’ve just called me. Martin has woken up, thank God.’

  ‘Sure, that’s great news. We won’t keep you,’ said Collins. ‘We were wondering, is Boyle in?’

  ‘No. He’s not here. He’s gone back to Ireland to arrange a few things.’

  ‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’

  ‘He said he’d be back tomorrow night.’

  ‘Did he give a time? We really do need to speak to him. It’s important.’

  ‘Ah Michael, he’s not in the IRA any more. He left them in the early sixties. He knows nothing about the shooting of your friend yesterday – if that’s what this is about. How’s the little fella anyway?’

  ‘He’s going to be all right, but I still need to speak to Boyle.’

  ‘Thank God. I liked the wee fella. Boyle’s coming in on the last flight from Dublin tomorrow. I think it gets in about six thirty. I’ll have a houseful of Martin’s people here by then, so Declan is going to stay at the Henley Hotel on Stratford Road.’

  ‘Thanks. Can we give you a lift?’

  ‘No, I’ll be grand. I have the car, but thanks anyway.’

  As Collins and Rhodes returned to the Cortina, Rhodes stared to ask, ‘Where to, now?’ but was cut short by Collins upraised hand. He was thinking. Slipping into the passenger seat Collins pulled out his notebook and flicked back through the pages. Finding what he was looking for, he tapped the book with his index finger.

  ‘What is it, Michael?’

  ‘It might be something or nothing. When you spoke to Sir Aubrey, he didn’t know that Boyle had left England did he?’

  ‘No. But I’m not sure if we had anyone watching him. That sort of operation can take up to twenty-four hours to arrange.’

  ‘Take me back to the station. I have a few calls to make.’

  Handsworth, 13.50hrs

  Back in the office, Collins sat down and looked out the window at the rain. He was thinking. He knew what he wanted to do but had not yet settled on the order to do it in. Finally, he said, ‘Steve, find another office with a phone and call your mates at MI5 and MI6 and Special Branch. I want to know the whereabouts of Declan Boyle on every day for the last nine months. That means an address and proof that he was there. Both here and in Ireland.’

  Rhodes had been trained by the British Army and knew that now was not the right time to ask questions. Picking up a notepad, he went in search of an empty room.

  Collins’ first call was to Aer Lingus Information. Their responses to his enquiries were swift and clear. ‘Yes, our last flight from Dublin to Birmingham is at five-fifty, arriving in Birmingham at twenty-six minutes past six, and, “Yes, the time of the last flight was the same, seven days a week.” Collins declined their kind offer to book him on a flight but thanked the young man with the Kerry accent.

  Next, he put a call into The Bray News and Padraig O’Brian. As soon as his old editor identified himself Collins said, ‘Padraig, don’t speak. Just listen. This is important. I need to know exactly where our friend has been every day for the last nine months. That includes any trips he made abroad, especially to Ireland. You can reach me anytime on the station’s number. Just say you’re my uncle calling about my sick aunt and I’ll phone you back. Don’t call from your office or home. Got it?’

  ‘Indeed, I have Mr Brennan. I’ll look into it for you and get back to you. It will probably be Monday.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Collins paused, considering if he was being overly melodramatic, then decided that safety was more important than sounding like an actor in a cheap B film. ‘Be careful. If this is what I think it is, you could end up dead if you approach the wrong person.’

  Without any delay Padraig replied. ‘Sure, that’s exactly what I was thinking meself. Good day now, Mr Brennan.’

  Finally, Collins called Agnes. The phone was picked up by Annabel, whose cheerful greeting indicated that between the information contained in her husband’s report and the influence of Marjorie and Agnes, she was starting to come out of her cocoon of pain and sorrow. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she put Agnes on the phone.

  ‘Michael, is everything all right? Nothing has happened to Clive?’

  ‘No, all’s well. I need you to contact Sybil Harker for me. I want to know if her contacts in the Irish community have picked up any whispers about IRA activity in Birmingham, London, or any other cities with a big Irish community. Also have there been any sightings of Declan Boyle in London since the start of the year? If possible, I’d prefer that MI5 and Special Branch didn’t know about her enquiries.’

  ‘This is to do with the current case, I take it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Be careful, Michael. Your countrymen have been fighting their war with us for eight hundred years. They’re a dangerous enemy, and you don’t have Clive to watch your back.’

  ‘I have someone better than that.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You.’

  Hanging up, Collins headed for the station garage and borrowed a squad car. He needed to speak to Clarkee.

  General Hospital, 15.10hrs

  ‘You’ve brought me a bacon sarnie?’ asked Clark even before Collins was fully in the room.

  ‘Sorry, mate. No bacon. But I do have a tub of jelly.’

  ‘I’m bloody starving in here and yow bring me a bloody jelly.’

  ‘Well if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it meself.’

  ‘Not a chance. Give it here.’

  Collins passed over the small bowl of jelly Agnes had made earlier in the week and fished a dessert spoon out of his jacket pocket. He sat back saying nothing as Clark took his time to devour his raspberry jelly.

  Finished, Clark lay back, a look of contentment on his face. ‘Anyways, what do you want? Twice in one day, people will start to talk about yow.’

  ‘I think I’ve got something, but I want you to tell me if I’m completely off me trolley.’

  ‘We already know yam mad. What’s it yow got?’

  ‘Yolande said that Boyle took the last flight out of Dublin after hearing of Cunningham’s accident.’

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘When was Martin run over?’

  ‘About twenty to six.’

  ‘When do you think the police informed her of the death?’

  ‘He were known in the area and had his ID on him. It would have been quick. Say between six fifteen and six forty-five.’

  ‘The last Air Lingus flight from Dublin to Birmingham leaves at five fifty and arrives at six twenty-six.’

  It didn’t take Clark long to recognise the significance of what Collins was saying. ‘Boyle’s lying about being on that plane. He were already in Brum, or England at least. The lying toerag. There’s nowt mad about that as a theory. Which I admit is a bit unusual for yow. What else is going on in that tiny mind of yowrs?’

  ‘What if we’ve been played all along? What if everything that has happened since the Saudi do has been orchestrated by Boyle? Reece did intend to blackmail Endbury. But Boyle wanted Reece out of the picture, so he killed the girls. He gambled that Endbury wouldn’t want to be a part of murder and would go to the police, but Reece cleaned the scene up and buried the bodies.’

  ‘There’s a lot of bleedings ifs in there, ain’t there?’

  ‘I know. It’s the weakest bit of me idea. But stick with me. It wasn’t Reece’s men who we saw driving hell for leather away from Endbury’s. It was Boyle’s boys. He wanted the Endburys dead because he knew it would throw more pressure on Reece. That’s why the murder/suicide hadn’t bee
n set up properly. He wanted it to look like a double murder.’

  ‘Why attack Thorne?’

  ‘To put even more pressure on Reece. Remember what Charlton said about Reece relying on Thorne for more than just muscle. The bastard was building pressure on Reece waiting for him to crack or us to pick him up. What do you think?’

  ‘Yow can’t take it to anyone as it stands. Yow’d be laughed out of court. Yow need to fill in the gaps in yowr story and get some evidence. What yow got planned?’

  Collins told him of his request for information from Padraig and Sybil, and Rhodes calling MI5.

  ‘OK, well that’s a good start. Yow should also check out with Marie if there have been any rumblings among the Irish in Brum. Even if yow prove that Boyle was in Brum every day since New Year’s Day, all yow’ve got is circumstantial. Yow need hard evidence, a witness.’

  ‘I know. But do you think it’s worth pursuing?’

  ‘Of course, I do. I trained yow and there’s nowt wrong with yowr instincts, it’s just yowr brain that I worry about.’

  Collins smiled, held up two fingers and walked out. As the door closed Collins said, ‘See you tomorrow, Clive,’ he was out of the door before the jelly spoon hit the door.

  Handsworth, 16.30hrs

  Collins found a note on his desk from Rhodes when he returned to the CID office. “My colleagues are looking into what we discussed. I’ll see you later.” It was signed “Steve”.

  Collins took a match from the box on Hicks’ desk, opened the window and burned the message. Now, I really am becoming paranoid, he thought. As he pulled the window down, Hicks bustled into the office. ‘Afternoon, Mickey. How are things going? How’s Clarkee?’

  ‘He’s on a liquid only diet today and is threatening not to talk to me if I don’t bring him a bacon butty.’

  ‘Sounds like he’s on the mend. Take him a small jelly. Nothing in it. That will shut him up. He just wants the feel of food in his mouth. What about the case? Any developments?’

  Collins remained silent and said nothing about the jelly he had given Clark that afternoon. He was also trying to decide if he wanted to reveal his theory about Boyle. He surprised himself when he said, ‘I’m looking at the possibility that Boyle may have been behind all the deaths and Cunningham’s accident. But I must do some more digging before I can provide any evidence. Give me a couple of days to firm it up, Sir?’

  ‘OK. But given how close Clark was to getting killed, you need to write down your ideas – just in case.’

  ‘Will do, Sir.’

  Collins spent half an hour writing up an outline of his theory then headed home.

  Handsworth, 23.07hrs

  Agnes stood up, crossed to the TV and turned it off before the final credits had finished rolling. ‘Well, I think you’ve had more than enough excitement for one day. It’s time for bed.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ said Collins.

  ‘My idea is sleep, what’s yours?’

  ‘The same for me, darling, the same.’

  ‘Why don’t I believe you?’

  They had reached the landing when the phone rang. Agnes was about to go and answer it when Collins said, ‘I’ll get it.’ Picking the phone up, he was in the process of giving his number, when Hicks’ familiar voice interrupted him. ‘Mickey, I need you back at the station ASAP. MI5 have something.’

  Handsworth, 23.44hrs

  When Collins arrived at the station, the meeting between Hicks, the Superintendent, ACC Knowles, Sir Aubrey and Rhodes had already started. To his surprise, Inspector Archer was also there. ‘Grab a seat Sergeant,’ said the ACC. ‘We’re just starting. Sir Aubrey has some information that has changed the nature of the investigation. Sir Aubrey, if you would…’

  ‘Thank you. I received a report earlier this evening from a source in London which has been confirmed by the FBI. Declan Boyle had a meeting with Dwight McCloud, an arms dealer in Mississippi, eight weeks ago and arranged for a major shipment of arms from America to GB. We have no information on when or where the shipment will arrive, or if the guns are destined for Northern Ireland or will be stockpiled in Britain for safe keeping.’

  Collins was the first to speak, ‘So his supposed break with the IRA was a sham?’

  ‘Yes. I am afraid that the IRA have hoodwinked us. And of course, we don’t know what other shipments have been made in the last five years.’

  ‘What’s our next move, then?’ asked Archer.

  ‘We need to find Boyle and watch him until such time as he makes a move to collect the weapons,’ said Aubrey.

  ‘Finding him won’t be hard,’ said Collins. He will be at the Henley Hotel tomorrow night. He’s returning from Dublin on an Aer Lingus flight which arrives at six thirty. The difficult bit will be tracking him.’

  ‘Any ideas? Suggestions?’ asked the ACC.

  Rhodes raised his head and said, ‘Mickey and I should pay him a visit. Let him know that we have suspicions. I’m sure he’s already looking for tails, so we provide him with someone to avoid but have a backup team that he won’t be looking for.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan. Can we resource it?’ asked the ACC.

  ‘Leave that with me,’ said Sir Aubrey. ‘What we need now is to flesh out the plan.’

  The meeting continued for nearly three hours as each possibility was considered, changed, rejected or accepted. They had just run through their plan for the second time when Sir Aubrey looked at his watch and said, ‘I think we have a plan, gentleman. What we all need now is a good night’s sleep. I suggest we reconvene later today at 16.00 hours.’

  Sunday 6th October

  Birmingham, 12.13hrs

  Collins set out on his walk to St Francis for the quarter to one mass. As he walked the near two and half miles his mind drifted back to last night’s meeting. Most of the time had been taken up planning for the surveillance of Boyle and any contacts he made. Unfortunately, without knowing how many men he already had on the mainland it was impossible to plan accurately the resources required. This had made Collins uneasy. He was still worried, and kept thinking of his boyhood hero, General George Custer. Custer had charged after a small war party of Indians at Little Big Horn, only to find himself surrounded by two thousand Indian braves. Collins did not want to follow a handful of IRA volunteers into a trap and total annihilation.

  In the end it had been agreed that MI5 would send as many agents to Birmingham as they could, while also covering London, Liverpool and Glasgow. Their agents would be dispersed around Birmingham but work out of Thornhill Road.

  Aubrey had also revealed the details of the order made by Boyle, worth near three million pounds. Most of the money had been spent on Armalite rifles, hand grenades, revolvers and a large consignment of an explosive called Semtex that Collins knew little about.

  Collins went over the plan again. It was a good plan. The only part he did not like was the possibility of walking into a hundred plus IRA men on the warpath.

  As he entered St Francis he dipped his hand in the small font of holy water, made the sign of the cross and asked God to protect all involved with the operation.

  Handsworth, 14.52hrs

  With the dinner dishes and cutlery washed up, Collins kissed Agnes and said, ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back darling. Rhodes and I will be paying a visit to Declan Boyle this evening. With a bit of luck, we might catch him with his guard down.’

  Agnes knew that something was going on. An all-night meeting at the station was unusual, but she and Collins had not had the opportunity to discuss it. She held him tightly and said ‘I doubt that Mr Boyle ever lets his guard down. Please be careful Michael – for me.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Hall Green, 18.24hrs

  The afternoon had been taken up with meetings which Collins believed had been a complete waste of time. The information discussed the previous night had been re-examined, and how Boyle was going to be watched discussed again. The only new piece of information was that thirty-two agents ha
d been moved into Birmingham and would stay until either Boyle was captured or killed. Collins was relieved when at five thirty he and Rhodes drove out of the station yard and headed for Hall Green.

  An hour after they had arrived, Collins and Rhodes were still sitting in the car park of the Henley Hotel, a two storey, two-star hotel that had been built in the 1950s and tried to look like an American motel. Across the road two other MI5 agents, a man and a woman, were parked in a Ford Zephyr also watching the hotel. Just before eight o’clock a Ford Escort pulled onto the forecourt and found a place to park. Collins and Rhodes watched as Boyle and two other men got out of the car. The driver, a medium sized, black-haired man with quick movements, went to the boot and lifted out two suitcases. The biggest man of the trio picked them up and followed Boyle into the hotel. Rhodes picked up the camera and took several pictures of the three men until they disappeared into the hotel.

  ‘Give them five minutes, then we’ll go in,’ said Collins.

  After Collins had shown his warrant card to the blonde receptionist, she was only too pleased to answer his questions. The two men sharing were in room eighteen, but Mr Boyle was alone in room twenty.

  Rhodes knocked on number twenty and waited. A moment later the door opened a few inches and Boyles’s face appeared, ‘Yes?’ he asked.

  Rhodes stepped aside and Collins said, ‘I have a few more questions for you, Mr Boyle. May we come in?’

  Boyle’s eyes remained unreadable. ‘Sergeant Collins. I didn’t expect to see you… tonight. But come on in.’ Stepping back, he opened the door.

  The room was modern, functional, clean and tidy. Boyle’s case lay unopened on the bed. A cup of freshly made tea sat on the bedside cabinet. Taking out a packet of Senior Service, Boyle selected one and lit it with a silver Ronson lighter. He didn’t offer the pack to either Collins or Rhodes.