by Jim McGrath
‘All right, but can you keep the numbers down? I don’t want a complete bloody platoon trying to hide in a confined area. They’re bound to be spotted and we’ll end up with the same bloody firefight you’re trying to avoid,’ said the ACC.
‘This is not the first time I’ve been involved in something like this,’ snapped Sir Aubrey. ‘There will be no more than eight Army personnel on the mission, and they will be invisible. That I guarantee.’
‘OK. You’d best get it organised then. Superintendent, can you find a private room for Sir Aubrey to make his phone calls?’
‘Yes, Sir. Collins, can you take Sir Aubrey to the CID office and clear the switchboard of personnel except for Sergeant Ridley?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Collins escorted Sir Aubrey to the CID room without saying a word, then went to clear the telephone exchange of everyone but Ridley. Ridley didn’t argue with Collins. He knew that a meeting was going on and even if he didn’t know the details, he knew it was important.
Returning to the CID room, Collins nodded at Sir Aubrey and said, ‘All clear.’
The Deputy Head of MI5 made two calls. The first was to the Home Secretary, which lasted five minutes. The second was to an army base in Hereford which lasted a good deal longer.
By the time Collins and Sir Aubrey returned to the Superintendent’s Office it was 9.40 and a break was called until Clark arrived with the plans.
When Clark arrived a little before ten, he was carrying a large sheaf of paper. Taking the plan from the top of the bundle he laid it out on the table. It showed Cunningham’s yard and three substantial buildings within the compound.
He explained, ‘This large building is used to store cement and other materials that could be damaged by rain. Next door to it is the delivery bay. I reckon that will be where the lorry will be unloaded, and the cargo carried through these doors into the storage room. All under cover. Across the yard this two-story block contains offices and a canteen. The rest of the yard is concreted over and part of is used as a car park. The rest is a storage area for all the regular building materials.’
‘It looks pretty bare at the front of the yard. No cover there for us to get in without being seen,’ said Rhodes.
‘True enough,’ said Clark with a smile. ‘But the yard backs onto open land at the rear. An old bomb peck. Stored at the back is gravel, sand and timber. That’s our way in,’ said Clark with a smile.
‘Not quite, Constable Clark. That will be the way in for six of the SAS men I’ve obtained for tonight’s mission. The other two will remain outside the main gates acting as reserves and guards,’ said Sir Aubrey.
‘Well, thanks for telling me.’
‘Sorry, but things have been moving fast this morning. What other buildings are there adjoining the yard or directly across the road from it?’ asked Sir Aubrey.
‘Directly opposite the main gate is this six-story office block,’ said Clark and laid a second plan on the table. ‘I reckon yow can see the entire yard, even the back wall, from the fourth or fifth floor.’
‘Good,’ said Sir Aubrey, we’ll use that building as our HQ.’ Looking at his watch he continued. ‘It’s now ten thirty-six. I suggest that we reconvene our meeting when the SAS arrive.’
Handsworth, 11.07hrs
Back in the CID Room, neither Collins nor Clark found it easy to concentrate on anything but the night’s raid. Collins read through the reports that had come in overnight and Clark jotted down how he thought the raid should be handled. Not that anyone was going to ask for his opinion. After all, he was only the most experienced man in the building on such matters.
A little before twelve Collins phone rang and Ridley said, ‘Mickey you’ve got a visitor, Superintendent Patterson.’
‘What the hell is he doing here?’ Can you bring him around please?’
‘No problem.’
Three minutes later Patterson and his latest bagman arrived. The new man was introduced as Joseph Penn, short and built like a middleweight, with dark brown hair, a broad nose, and a dimple in his chin.
‘Do you want to grab lunch before we start or get stuck into it?’ asked Collins.
‘Let’s get it done. From the look of all the Special Branch bods that are sitting around doing nothing you’ve got something big on.’
Collins smiled at Patterson, ‘You’re not wrong there, Sir.’
‘Well, I just wanted to tell you I’ve now got a team of sixteen on the case. But from the report alone there is clear evidence of funds being dispersed to Robbins and Hill from the Golden Fashion Agency.’
‘Well, they own it.’
‘Yes, they do but there is also evidence that much of its profit is derived from prostitution. Therefore, they can be charged with living off immoral earnings. There are also numerous large payments made to them by Reece. But we’ll need additional time to confirm this. There is also clear evidence that Reece used blackmail, threats of force, actual force, and bribery to obtain a number of contracts.’
‘Did you find anything on Charlton?’ asked Collins.
‘Nothing significant. He seems to be clean, as does Cunningham. No, the corruption seems to centre on Reece, his mate Thorne, and Councillors Hill and Robbins. But I’ve only gone through the file once and there are a number of Council documents that I need to see. I’m certain that many more names will come tumbling out of the woodwork once we dig into the Council’s records and interviewing whoever signed them. Four men on their own can’t run a scheme as big as this one without a load of help. They’ll have building managers, architects, surveyors, finance officers, solicitors and God knows who else on the payroll.
‘One thing is for sure though, that auditor John Simpson was a brave lad. Not many accountants would have kept digging like he did. Most of them would have done what the Chief Auditor Hastings did and cover up the whole bloody mess. It’s a bloody shame the lad is dead,’ said Patterson and paused before continuing ‘I’ll need to speak to Reece and Thorne.’
‘Good luck with that,’ said Clark. ‘They disappeared over a week ago and we ain’t been able to find them.’
‘Did they get wind of your investigation?’
‘Oh yeah. But it ain’t us that scared them shitless. It were the IRA’s appearance on the scene,’ said Clark.
‘Bloody hell. Is that what all the security bods are doing here?’
‘Yep.’
Handsworth, 15.13hrs
Nine men wearing black overalls climbed out of two specially adapted Land Rovers and started to unpack their gear from the rear of each vehicle in near silence. When this was complete, they ignored the front door of the police station and instead walked through the car park and into the station yard.
A new probationary constable seeing them thought they looked like trouble, and moved between them and the rear door. ‘Can I help you lads?’ he asked. His voice betrayed none of the nervousness he felt.
‘You could show us the way to the Superintendent’s office,’ said a small man at the back of the group. His accent was middle England and very upper-class. The young copper relaxed.
‘Of course. Follow me.’
As they walked past the canteen the small man stopped and said, ‘OK lads, go and get a bite to eat and I’ll join you after I’ve spoken to the Superintendent.’
Outside the Superintendents’ office the young constable knocked on the door, waited for the instruction to come in and opened the door, ‘You have a gentleman to see you Sir.’
‘What gentleman? What’s his bloody name?’
Stepping into the room the small man came to attention saluted and said, ‘I’m with the Army, Sir. I understand you have a problem.’
The meeting with the SAS captain, MI5 and the police started at four fifteen, which gave everyone time to get some food inside them. The plan previously devised was basically sound and only a few minor changes were made to it. When the meeting finally broke up, Clark was found chatting to the eight men who had arrived with th
e Captain.
At twenty to seven five vehicles left Thornhill Road Station. The lead vehicle was driven by Collins and carried the senior police officers, ACC Knowles, Superintendent Thatcher, and Inspector Hicks. The second car was driven by Clark, and housed Sir Aubrey, the SAS captain and Rhodes. The two Land Rovers followed next and a vanload of twelve MI5 operatives tailed behind. Everyone knew their part in the plan but, as Clark and the SAS men knew only too well, once the shooting started, any plan would quickly become obsolete.
Once in Sheldon the two Land Rovers peeled off and headed for the back of Cunningham’s compound. The van carrying the twelve MI5 agents parked near the entrance to the cul-de-sac that was Wagner’s Road, ready to cut it off once the shooting started. The two unmarked police cars drove up to the six-story building opposite Cunningham’s yard, and parked at the rear.
Sheldon, 20.00hrs
At eight o’clock the two drivers boarded their lorry and slowly drove down the farm’s dirt road to the exit. Every move they made was watched by a team of four MI5 agents. When they emerged from the farm track and turned right, the older agent contacted Rhodes by telephone and confirmed that the lorry was on its way.
‘Good. Keep me informed of their movements every twenty minutes please.’
‘Will do, sir.’
‘They are on their way,’ said Rhodes to those assembled on the fourth floor of the office block.
‘Good,’ said ACC Knowles.
‘Is it all right, Sir, if Mickey and me head up to the sixth floor?’ Clark asked the ACC.
‘Yes, carry on.’
Collins and Clark were joined by Rhodes and they quickly picked up their kit and headed for the top floor. All three men were disappointed that they would have no part in the shooting match that they fully expected to start once the lorry arrived. However, they would have ringside seats to the action.
Looking down from their eyrie, the men took stock of the yard. Parked in front of the main offices were a grey 3.5 Rover, a black Jaguar E-Type and a dark Ford Zodiac. From the telephone messages received by Rhodes that meant that the Charltons and Boyle were on site.
At five to nine a flatbed lorry turned into Wagner’s Road and drove slowly into Cunningham’s yard.
‘How long before the SAS start shooting?’ asked Clark.
‘The plan says they will wait until the lorry is inside the unloading dock, and then give them fifteen minutes to get the stuff off. If all goes to plan the whole op should be over within ten minutes of the first shot being fired.’
Almost immediately, the unloading dock doors were opened, and the lorry drove slowly inside. Before the vehicle had stopped moving, the heavy wooden doors were closed, and the door bolts engaged.
Collins looked at his watch and waited for fifteen minutes to elapse. His concentration was broken when a red lorry turned into the road and accelerated. It slowed only slightly before it swung into the wire and steel gates of Cunningham’s compound.
‘Who the bloody hell is that?’ shouted Collins. He didn’t have long to wait, as the truck came to a shuddering stop outside the loading bay and fourteen heavily armed men quickly disembarked from the rear. When the driver jumped out of the cab, Collins immediately recognised him as Christopher Thorne. Reaching back into the cab, Thorne took down two lengths of piping, each about thirty inches long, and snapped them together. ‘What the hell is that? Collins asked.
‘That, mate, is a bloody bazooka,’ replied Clark.
Kneeling, Thorne lifted the tube onto his shoulder and Nugent loaded a rocket into the tube. Thorne pulled the trigger. At such close range the shell smashed through the wooden doors and exploded with an ear-bursting noise.
Collins was transfixed. He’d never experienced such a huge explosion as the rocket smashed through the wooden doors. Rhodes pulled him down an instant before the second explosion went off and the windows beside which he had been standing shattered into ten thousand pieces and covered him in glass.
If the first explosion had been huge, the second was like an earthquake. The building rocked from side to side. Doors were sent flying over the newly arrived lorry and across the compound, and the asbestos roof soared seventy feet into the air. Flames leaped from every window and door in the building. The explosions were quickly followed by the sound of individual grenades and packs of explosives exploding and bullets going off.
Collins looked at Clarkee who was shouting, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying and lifting up his hands, he pointed at his ears. Clark knew what was wrong, pinched his nose and blew hard. Collins immediately followed suit, heard a loud pop in his ears and was able to hear Clark shouting, ‘Who the fuck was in the lorry?’
‘It was Thorne and a dozen or more men,’ shouted Collins. Standing up, all three men looked at the devastation that the two explosions had caused. The goods inward warehouse was now nothing but a hole in the ground. No piece of the building larger than a yard in length remained. The lorry that Thorne and his heavies had arrived in was a smouldering mess of misshapen metal, and all thirteen men had been blown into pieces. Collins was able to spot arms, legs, torsos and heads in the flames that still burned in the receiving bays.
The dry goods warehouse next to the receiving bay had lost an entire wall and the roof was groaning and shifting. As Collins watched the roof collapsed, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
The administration building had lost every pane of glass and part of its roof. The front doors to the building had been blown into the lobby and lay on the floor. Pieces of metal were imbedded in the brickwork. Blood, patches of skin and shards of bone were smeared across the frontage. The three cars parked outside were just a jumble of scrap metal. The whole scene looked like something only H.P. Lovecraft could have envisaged.
Friday 11th October 1968
Sheldon, 01.46hrs
None of the SAS troops had been killed or injured. When they left at midnight, to head back to Hereford, they were still grumbling that they had not seen any action. Collins had spent the evening on site. No living person had been discovered on the entire compound and no body part bigger than a torso had been discovered.
Clark parked his car and walked the last six hundred yards to the compound. He’d been ordered by Chief inspector Hicks to go home, as he was still officially only on “sick duties”, but he’d picked up his car and was now looking for Collins. Clark pushed his way past the press and TV cameras ,and kept walking and a minute later turned into what remained of Martin Cunningham’s yard.
Collins saw him and trotted over. ‘How you feeling?’
‘I’m bosting,’ said Clark, ‘but yow look like something nasty that the cat dragged in. ‘Have yow been able to identify the bodies?’
‘Only the Charltons. All four of them were in the office at the rear of the building when the second explosion went off. The office collapsed and killed them all.’
‘Have yow confirmed that Boyle were among the dead?’
‘No. But his car was here so I think we can assume that the explosions or the fire did for him.’
‘Well I just heard that Martin Cunningham were released from hospital yesterday. Fancy going to see him?’
‘Why not?’ Then, looking at his watch, ‘Let’s leave it until this afternoon. I’m knackered. I’m going home.’
Handsworth, 11.03hrs
Collins came awake at three minutes past eleven and threw back the bedclothes.
He’d slept for seven hours without interruption and felt alive and ready to face the day.
A quick hot shower and a shave took ten minutes and he returned to his bedroom and dressed. When he walked into the kitchen Sheba rushed to greet him and Agnes smiled as he sat down in front of a full English breakfast. ‘What time did you get in?’ asked Agnes.
‘About three.’
‘Was it as bad as it looked on the TV?’
‘The damage certainly was but there were no troops or police in the compound when it exploded. So, no casualties on our side.�
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‘But why such a big explosion?’
‘Thorne fired a bazooka into the receiving bay doors. That would have been highly effective in normal circumstances, but what he didn’t know was that there was a truckload of armaments and explosives inside. The resultant explosion killed everyone in the building plus Thorne and all his men.’
‘Was Boyle among the casualties?’
Collins waited for a couple of seconds before he replied. ‘I hope so, me darling, but there was no body. Clarkee and me are going to assume he got away.’
‘Keep looking until you find proof one way or the other. If he’s alive he’ll come after you with everything he’s got.’
Wrapping his arm around Agnes’s waist, Collins replied, ‘Sure, that’s exactly what Clarkee said. But I doubt he’s in any state to start trouble any time soon. Which means that you and I can go to the quiz tomorrow night without any worries.’
‘What are you going to do today?’
‘Clarkee and me are going to see Martin Cunningham.’
Solihull, 13.48hrs
Collins rang the bell and waited. Yolande answered the door wearing a housecoat, her face serious. ‘Ah, it’s yourselves. I was wondering if I’d see you today. I’ve been watching the news. Is the yard as badly damaged as the TV makes it look?’
‘Worse, I’m afraid,’ said Collins.
‘Well come on in,’ she said and stood aside.
‘We won’t be long. We just need to have a quick chat with Martin, if that’s possible.’
‘You can but he had nothing to do with bringing arms into our yard. I can’t believe I was so stupid as not to keep an eye on what Boyle was doing. I always felt uneasy about the man. But he was Martin’s friend, so I ignored my concerns and put up with him. I’ll show ya where Martin is,’ she said and led them up the stairs and to the back bedroom. ‘Are ya decent, Martin? I have Sergeant Collins and his mate to see you.’