A Death in Autumn

by Jim McGrath

  ‘OK, keep looking.’

  Four hundred yards behind the car, a Vauxhall Viva driven by a middle-aged man continued to follow the Rover. Beside him his younger companion stared at a small screen which showed the Rover as a black dot. ‘Where do you think they are going?’ asked the younger man.

  ‘My guess is Birmingham. I’ll give them another hour and then call in their position to Central.’

  Warwick, 07.50hrs

  Reece put the phone down and walked into the kitchen where Thorne was standing by the cooker, flipping an egg over. Looking over his shoulder, Thorne asked, ‘Well did your snout manage to find out who tried to take me out.’

  ‘The fucking IRA, that’s who.’

  ‘I thought those bleeders had disbanded or were dead.’

  ‘Not yet. It seems that it was Cunningham’s best mate Declan Boyle who set him up for the kill. The same Declan Boyle is a bigwig in the IRA. It seems Boyle turned up the night of the accident to offer the distraught wife all the help and support she needed in her hour of need,’ said Reece, and flopped into one of six chairs around the large kitchen table.

  ‘What’s he after?’

  ‘They think he’s after Cunningham’s business,’ said Reece.

  ‘Why would the IRA want his business and why come after me?’

  ‘Bloody hell Chris, don’t you ever listen to the news? Northern Ireland is primed to explode. Once that happens, the IRA will want some place to hide its men who are wanted by the police. What better place than among all the Paddies working on the roads and building sites of Brum?’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ asked Thorne.

  ‘Simple, kill the bastards, especially Declan Boyle. Call the boys to a meeting. We’ll use the house in Erdington. No Irish cunt is going to try and kill you and threaten me without paying a heavy price.’

  Hall Green, 08.03hrs

  Declan Boyle sat on the bed and pulled on a pair of clean socks, slipped on his shoes, and looked at the door. He was feeling impatient, but he looked calm and composed. Within a couple of minutes he heard a woman’s heels in the corridor. They stopped, and a small white envelope was pushed under the door. Then he heard the woman walk away.

  Rising, he went to the door and picked up the envelope. Ripping it open, he read the short message. He pushed the note and envelope into his coat pocket, left the room and headed for his car.

  As he pulled away Boyle immediately noticed the tail. ‘So, you’re playing games are yea?’ he muttered under his breath and started to look for the real tail. He was almost in Birmingham when he spotted the red Ford Escort a hundred yards back. He slowed down and let the Ford come closer. A quick look in the rear-view mirror was all he needed to confirm that the two men in the car were MI5 agents. Pulling a small notebook from his pocket, he scribbled down the registration and headed for St Chad’s Cathedral.

  He parked outside the Gunmaker’s Arms on Bath Street. There was no sign of the red Ford, but he knew they were nearby. The Queensway was busy as usual, and he could smell the stench of petrol as he walked to the Cathedral. Looking to his right as he entered the church, he saw the two agents nearly ninety yards behind him. A smile tugged at his lips.

  Stepping into the empty church, he trotted silently down the side aisle. At the communion rail he turned left and exited the building through a side door marked “Fire Exit”. Closing the door, he ran down the steps and jumped into a black Jaguar E-Type, pushed the seat as far back as it would go and hunkered down. The car accelerated away and two minutes later the familiar voice of Ronny Charlton said, ‘You’re all right Declan, we’re clear. No one is following us.’

  ‘Thank God for that. Where’s the meeting?’

  ‘At the farm. Dad and me brothers will be there.’

  Handsworth, 09.17hrs

  Clark slid into the canteen seat opposite Collins and added one large spoonful of sugar to his dark coloured tea before asking, ‘Anything happen last night?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Office duties. Answer me question.’

  ‘We picked up June Gregg and lover boy. The RSPCA will be prosecuting the case today.’

  ‘Good, let’s hope they get what’s coming to them. Yow’ve not had any info on the whereabouts of Reece?’

  ‘Not so much as a passing rumour.’

  ‘What are wi going to do?’

  ‘See what Ridley has for us and wait. I hate waiting.’

  ‘Yow should know by now that policing is 98% waiting and the other 2% are periods of bum puckering bloody terror. Something will drop in our lap.’

  ‘I’ll bow to your vast experience, O Ancient One.’

  ‘Not so much of the Ancient One.’

  Back in the office, Collins’ phone started to ring just as he opened the door. Picking it up he heard Rhodes’ familiar tones, ‘Mickey?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve got some bad news, Boyle has disappeared. He left the hotel this morning. Drove to St Chad’s Cathedral and before our men had got inside, he’d vanished.’

  ‘Sod it. Do you think he made the second team?’

  ‘I think we should assume that he did. He just disappeared into thin air.’

  ‘OK. Thanks for letting me know.’ Checking his watch, Collins realised that he was cutting it close if he was to make the court in time to give evidence. ‘Make yourself useful Clarkee and give me a lift to the Magistrate’s Court, will you?’

  ‘OK but only because yow asked so nicely. That, and it will be a pleasure to see Romeo and Juliet sent down. Well, stop dawdling then. Grab yowr coat. I want to see the bastards responsible.’

  Elm Farm, 10.07hrs

  Ronny Charlton turned off the A38 just after the sign for Minworth. Changing down through the gears, he drove slowly up the twisting farm track. The grass on both verges was over two-foot-high and the fields hadn’t been planted with any crop for three years. After five minutes the road opened out into a concrete area on which had been built a four-bedroom farmhouse, a barn, a milking shed and a couple of smaller buildings. As with the fields, the yard looked in need of maintenance, with weeds growing freely outside the house and other buildings.

  Charlton drove towards the barn and the doors swung open. Rolling the windows down, he shouted a welcome to his father and brothers. Climbing out of the Jaguar, Ronny was enveloped in a powerful bear hug from his father, and handshakes from his brothers.

  Boyle hung back, waiting for the family reunion to end. When the welcome abated, he held out his hand to Jimmy who took it and pulled the younger man into a warm embrace. ‘My God, Declan you’re looking fine. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, Jimmy. But I’d kill for a drink.’

  ‘Get the man a drink. You’ll find the whiskey in the boot.’

  John Charlton followed his father’s order and took five glasses from the Rover’s boot before returning with a full bottle of Powers Gold Label. With glasses full Jimmy Charlton raised his glass and said, ‘To Ireland and a free North.’

  After five minutes of catching up on family affairs, Boyle finally asked, ‘You’ve got the goods?’

  ‘That we have, Declan. The stuff is already loaded on the truck. All I need is a time and place to deliver it to.’

  A broad smile spread across Boyle’s face. ‘No problems then?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘I was worried about that Yank. But by God, he came through for us.’

  ‘That he did.’

  ‘OK. We stick to the original plan. Bring the stuff to the farm tonight and then if everything is still OK, you can deliver it to Martin’s yard tomorrow night at ten.’

  ‘Will do. How is Martin? I heard he’s in a coma?’

  ‘He’s going to be fine. He woke up last Saturday. He’s still in hospital so he’s got a perfect alibi if things turn tits up.’

  ‘Grand.’

  Handsworth, 14.07hrs

  Collins was feeling good as he sat down to his lunch in the canteen. The magistrates
had shown little interest in the cock and bull story that Dewar had spewed out, and sentenced him to twelve months in an approved school. Gregg had received a six-month sentence in an approved school.

  ‘Well, yow might be happy with the sentences given out, but I’m willing to bet a fiver to a brass penny that if they stay on our patch, we’ll be seeing them again and soon.’

  Before Collins could respond, Ridley slipped into the seat beside Clark and said, ‘Just the pair I wanted to see.’

  ‘What for?’ asked Collins fearing it was another police ball where Agnes would pull him onto the floor at every opportunity.’

  ‘The Force’s Quiz Night. Central have won it for the past three years and I reckon it’s time we stuffed them.’

  ‘Well, yow should have asked me sooner,’ said Clark.

  ‘I ain’t interested in you two monkeys. I want the organ grinder Mrs Winters on the team. I reckon she knows more than the two of you put together. You two are the price I pay for getting me star.’

  ‘Well me and the Mrs are in, said Clarkee.’

  ‘Seeing as you asked so nicely, I’ll ask Agnes. When’s it on?’

  ‘Saturday, October twelfth. A three-course meal is thrown in, so the entry fee is £8 for two.’

  ‘Bloody hell, yow dain’t give us much notice. Where’s it being held?’ asked Clark.

  ‘Botanical Gardens, seven thirty kick off.’

  The phone was ringing when Collins and Clark opened the CID door. Picking it up, Collins didn’t have time to say anything before Rhodes asked, ‘Mickey?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I have to be quick. Two of our men in Liverpool followed James Charlton, father of Ronny Charlton, to a farm near Birmingham this morning where he and his two sons met Ronny and Boyle.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Exactly what I thought. They followed Charlton and Boyle back to Birmingham. I’ve put four men on Charlton and a new team on Boyle.’

  ‘Where did Boyle go?’

  ‘To the hospital, where he spent half an hour talking to Martin Cunningham. Then he went back to his hotel.’

  ‘OK. We need to watch him like a hawk.’

  Handsworth, 15.17hrs

  Collins was at home when the phone rang. As he crossed the hall, Sheba stood in the kitchen doorway, tail wagging slowly. Collins picked up the phone, and before he could recite his number, he heard Steve Rhodes’ familiar voice. ‘Mickey, I’ve just got a message from our man at the farm. A truck just pulled up on the farm and within a couple of minutes it disappeared into the barn.’

  Collins immediately recognised the potential importance of the information. The truck might be carrying the weapons Boyle had bought but they could just be building supplies. ‘Did your man get a look at what the lorry is carrying?’

  ‘No but he’s going to slip in when the house quietens down.’

  ‘Good. Let me know what he finds, no matter how late it is. I’ll call Hicks, and make sure the Superintendent and the ACC know as well. If it is the guns, we’ll need to meet to discuss what we’re going to do.’

  OK. You brief your people and let’s provisionally agree that we’ll meet at the station as soon as we know what’s in the truck.’

  ‘OK.’

  The first call Collins made was to Clark, followed by Hicks, the Superintendent and ACC.

  Erdington, 18.47hrs

  A smog of blue-grey cigarette smoke hung in the air. The room was full, with fourteen men standing and sitting around. All conversations were conducted in low voices while they waited for the Boss to arrive. Most of the men present were interested in seeing the new man whom Thorne had called in for the first time. Rumour had it that he was a vicious bastard who’d had been a trigger man for the Krays in London before he skipped out of Britain when the brothers were arrested.

  The room fell silent as Reece’s Jaguar pulled up on the gravel drive outside. Seconds later Reece, Thorne and a slim man of medium height with a bland, vacant, expressionless face entered the room. ‘OK, lads,’ said Thorne, ‘grab a seat. You all know Mr Reece. The other gent is Mark. The reason we’re all here is to plan how we take out Cunningham, Charlton, and his mates

  ‘Why are we going after Cunningham?’ asked a tall skinny man near the back of the room. ‘I mean, they ain’t never given us any trouble.’

  ‘Until now. It was that lousy bastard that tried to kill me last week. That’s why Mr Reece and me had to go into hiding while we found out who the hell were after us,’ said Thorne.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ asked a small plump man near the front.

  ‘As near as we can find out, Cunningham’s accident was meant to keep him clear of what was going to happen. Ronny’s boys were driving the car, but it went wrong, and Cunningham was left in a coma.’

  ‘OK. I don’t mind having a run in with Ronny’s lads, but what about Cunningham’s guys? Who the fuck are they and where the fuck do we find them’

  ‘They are ex-IRA.’ A murmur of disquiet ran through the group. Thorne ignored it and continued, ‘I don’t know where they are at the moment, but I know where they’ll be tomorrow night at nine,’ said Thorne and smiled.

  Thursday 10th October 1968

  Elm Farm, 02.33hrs

  The two MI5 agents were cold, tired, hungry, and wet from the frequent light showers. The elder of the two, a chubby, red-faced man who looked more like a grocer than a spy, said, ‘It’s been an hour since the lights went out, so if they aren’t asleep by now, then they must be a nervous lot. Come on, let’s go take a shufti at what’s in that lorry.’

  His young partner nodded in agreement and they quickly walked the hundred or so yards to the barn. Staying in the shadows, they circled the barn checking doors and windows. All were locked tight. ‘OK. I’ll pick the lock on the back door.’

  Less than a minute later the two men were standing in the barn beside the brown, two-ton Leyland lorry of the type used to carry metal and other heavy loads, registration EKG 601. Its flat back was covered by a dirty grey tarpaulin tied down securely by one-inch hemp rope. After finding where the rope had first been tied, the younger man undid the knot and pulled up a three-foot length of tarpaulin. Inside was a wooden box measuring two feet by three, with one of its planks already loose. Hitting it twice with the heel of his hand, the younger man raised the plank high enough to slip his hand into the box. At first all he felt were wooden packing shavings. Digging deeper, his fingers touched something round and metal, and he. worked his hand under it to lift it out. “It” was an US Army Mk 2 “pineapple” grenade and it looked brand new.

  Holding it up, the older man nodded and said, ‘Put it back and tie down the tarp while I go and have a look in the cab.’ The cab was dirty and smelt of body odour. Several old newspapers, a rolled up chip paper and numerous wrappers from a wide variety of chocolate bars covered the cabin’s floor. Fortunately, an A to Z road map of Great Britain was in the door compartment, along with a list of roads starting in Liverpool and ending in Sheldon. The man smiled and made a note of the final road on the list.

  Twelve minutes later both men were back in their car, and driving to the nearest telephone box. The older agent jumped out of the car and ran to the red box outside a closed fish and chip shop. He’d been in MI5 since he left the army in 1946, but this was the biggest find of his career. He quickly dialled Rhode’s number, and as soon as the phone was answered he said, ‘It’s weapons and I know where they’re headed.’

  Handsworth, 03.07hrs

  Collins slept on the sofa in the lounge with the door open. The second ring of the phone woke him and the third had him jumping to his feet and running into the hall. ‘Steve?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. It’s the whole bloody shipment.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘As sure as the Mk 2 grenade that my men found.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Listen, do you know of any place in Sheldon, they might be delivering the load to?’

  ‘Cunningh
am’s yard is in Sheldon.’

  ‘Well they’ll be there at nine tonight. It will take Sir Aubrey three hours to get here, so let’s meet at seven.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Handsworth, 07.20hrs

  Sir Aubrey and Rhodes arrived eighteen minutes late for the meeting. ‘Sorry for our tardiness,’ said Sir Aubrey, looking at his watch. ‘An oil tanker turned over on the motorway. We were one of the first cars to be allowed through after they closed two lanes.’

  ‘Well we’re all here now, so let’s make a start,’ said ACC Knowles. ‘To summarise what we know; the lorry at Elm Farm is carrying munitions, and they will be delivered to an address in Sheldon tonight between nine and ten. An address which we believe to be Cunningham’s storage yard.’

  ‘Do we have a plan of this builder’s yard and surrounding area?’ asked Sir Aubrey.

  ‘Not yet, but we’ll have one of the entire area by ten. DC Clark is at the planning department,’ said Collins

  ‘OK, then,’ said the Superintendent, ‘we should do some preliminary planning prior to Clark arriving.’

  There was a murmur of agreement and for the next two hours various options were discussed, and most rejected. The biggest dispute arose over whether to involve the military in the operation or not. Despite his instructions to Collins and Clark that in matters of national security the police would follow MI5’s lead, the ACC argued strongly against involving the military. However, Sir Aubrey wasn’t to be budged. After nearly half an hour on the subject he finally said in exasperation, ‘Look, we’re not dealing with a criminal gang. This is the bloody IRA and they have a truck load of weapons and munitions at their disposal. We don’t have the firepower to take them on by ourselves. We have to involve the Army.’