Arthur turned slowly and looked directly in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Someone down in records gave me a bell. At least someone had my back.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what I’m talking about.’
‘You need to tell me what happened, Dad.’
Arthur looked over to where Jack was sitting and panting with his tongue hanging out. ‘Yeah. Well, that’s easier said than done. And you could lose your job.’
‘My gaffer knows I’m here,’ Gaughran said.
Arthur looked disappointed. ‘You went to him first?’
‘What did you expect me to do?’
‘What do you think you know?’
‘We went to see Michael Fisher.’
‘I thought you might. What did he tell you?’
‘He gave us a photograph. You and Clive Rigby in the 211 Club together. The club you said you’d never been to.’
Arthur shrugged. ‘Doesn’t prove very much except we were having a drink there once.’
‘Fucking hell, Dad. This isn’t about what anyone can prove. There are people out there, and in Peckham CID, who are going to think you murdered Alfie Wise,’ Gaughran said angrily.
Arthur looked directly at him. ‘It wasn’t us. I can promise you that.’
‘Then who killed him?’ Gaughran asked.
‘I dunno. I’ve no idea. He just vanished one day.’
Gaughran looked into his eyes. He didn’t know what to believe. ‘What about the backhanders?’
Arthur looked at the ground and shook his head. ‘No.’
‘That’s bollocks, Dad, and you know it!’ Gaughran snapped as he glared at his father. ‘We’ve got multiple descriptions of a tall, thin, young DC in the South London Murder Squad, who walked with a limp, being paid off by Charlie Wise.’
Arthur took a deep breath and said, ‘You don’t understand, Tim. It was a different time. Everyone was at it. It was no different to giving a tip to your barber or a cabbie.’
‘Fuck off. It’s completely different!’ Gaughran bellowed, his anger spiked. ‘It’s corruption, Dad, and you know it.’
‘I don’t expect you to understand. Back in those days, a DC’s salary was a pittance.’
‘You can’t justify it. I just don’t understand. You’ve always told me you hated bent coppers?’
‘I wasn’t talking about taking a few quid forty years ago. Don’t be so bloody naïve, Tim.’
Gaughran stared coldly at his father. ‘What about Declan Fisher?’
‘That was Rigby. I gave Fisher a clip but Rigby took it too far.’
‘But you didn’t stop him?’
‘No. Like I said, it was a different time.’ Arthur said nothing for a few seconds. ‘Clubs like the 211 expected to pay us something so punters could drink and gamble after hours. It was just part of the deal. Same with snouts. You’d bung them a few quid for some information or give them a clip if they stepped out of line.’
‘What about Trevor Walsh?’ Gaughran asked.
‘Never heard of him.’
‘You sure? We heard he was working as a snout for you lot. He was murdered three days ago.’
‘And you think I had something to do with it?’
‘Bloody hell, Dad. I don’t know what to believe right now.’
‘So, now what?’
‘I’ve got to take you in. You need to come to the station with me and tell us what you know.’
‘I’m not going to prison. It would kill your mother.’
Gaughran nodded. ‘I know that, Dad. But they were coming for you anyway. I just asked my gaffer if I could be the one to bring you in.’
Arthur looked at him. ‘And if I don’t come with you?’
‘Why, what are you going to do? Jump off a fucking cliff instead?’
‘Wouldn’t be a bad idea.’
‘You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?’ Gaughran took a breath and blinked away the wetness from his eyes. ‘You were my bloody hero, Dad. I worshipped the ground you walked on. I became a copper because I wanted to be like you.’
‘Yeah, well I’m sorry about that.’
Gaughran gritted his teeth as he felt the tears well up. He refused to bloody cry. ‘Is that it?’
‘I don’t know what else to say. What’s done is done.’ Arthur whistled to the dog and put him on his lead. ‘You’d better take me in then, hadn’t you?’
CHAPTER 36
Having established that Charlie Wise was not at his Wimbledon home, Ruth and Lucy headed for the Southbank offices of Stanmore Holdings. The traffic was heavy as they passed Waterloo Station.
As Ruth buzzed down the window, she could see that the blue skies were now giving way to dark, low clouds that seemed to suck the light and colour from the London streets. Reaching for a cigarette, she glanced over at Lucy.
‘You know, Charlie had me fooled from day one,’ Ruth admitted.
‘Me too.’
‘He was so convincing when we told him we had found Alfie’s remains.’
‘And when he saw the signet ring.’
Ruth shook her head. ‘Maybe I’m losing my touch but I really liked him.’
Lucy shrugged. ‘I’ve met some very charming killers in my time.’
They headed around the roundabout at the foot of Waterloo Bridge and went east along Stamford Street, before cutting right and passing the back of the National Theatre.
‘Christ, I haven’t been to the theatre in years,’ Ruth said.
Lucy nodded. ‘I went with my mum to see Miss Saigon a couple of years ago.’
‘Miss Saigon isn’t the theatre, darling,’ Ruth said in an exaggerated upper-class voice.
‘Isn’t it? Do you mean boring, long plays about posh people?’ Lucy asked.
‘I suppose I do.’ Ruth pointed to the National Theatre building. ‘I’ve been there once. On a school trip to see ‘King Lear’ because we were doing it for A-level.’
Lucy frowned. ‘You did A-levels?’
‘Oh thanks. I’m not a complete thicko,’ Ruth laughed. ‘Anthony Hopkins was playing King Lear. And in the storm scene, he took all his clothes off. And I mean all his clothes.’
Lucy’s eyes widened. ‘You went on a school trip and ended up seeing Hannibal Lecter’s todger live on stage? How’s that okay? Your teacher should have been sacked.’
Ruth laughed. ‘Actually I thought it was great.’
‘Anthony Hopkins’ tackle?’
‘No, stupid. The play. It was very dramatic.’
Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, it bloody sounds it.’
‘Here we go,’ Ruth said, pulling the car over and parking in a space just outside the enormous tower block that housed Stanmore Holdings’ offices.
Turning off the ignition, Ruth took a deep breath as she thought of the prospect of arresting Sir Charles Wise, a knight of the realm and minor celebrity, for conspiracy to murder.
‘Ready to go?’ Lucy asked as she got out.
Ruth noticed that the sky was almost black, and it had started to rain. ‘Yes, let’s do this.’
As she glanced down the road, Ruth noted that Hassan and a marked patrol car had also parked. A few seconds later, Hassan and two uniformed officers joined them as they began to walk up the stone steps and into the reception area.
Ruth approached the security guard and flashed her warrant card. ‘DC Hunter, Peckham CID. We’re going up to the 17th floor.’
He ushered them through to the lifts.
A few minutes later, the doors opened and Ruth, Lucy, Hassan and the two officers came out into the seated reception area of Stanmore Holdings.
Ruth and Lucy marched over to the receptionist, whom they recognised from before. She looked a little startled by their arrival and because there were five of them.
‘Erm, are you looking for Sir Charles?’ she asked, clearly flustered.
Hassan stepped forward and showed her the warrant. ‘We have a Section 18 Search Warrant for these premises. Someone should
alert your staff that we will be taking statements and removing anything we feel is relevant to our investigation.’
Without waiting for a response, Hassan took out his warrant card and, with the two uniformed officers in tow, marched through the doors and into the central office.
Lucy pointed to where Charlie’s office was located. ‘Is Sir Charles in? This is very delicate, but it’s very important that we see him right this second.’
‘Erm, I don’t think he’s in,’ the receptionist replied as her eyes blinked nervously. ‘Let me try the line.’
Ruth gave her a smile. ‘It’s all right, we know the way.’
Lucy and Ruth strode through the doors and headed left across the open plan office to Charlie’s corner office. The staff looked confused by the sudden appearance of police officers.
As they arrived at the office door, Ruth could see through the glass that no one was inside.
‘Can I help?’ asked an approaching PA with a forced smile.
‘Are you Emma Maddocks?’ Ruth asked.
The PA shook her head. ‘No. Emma’s not in today.’
Lucy pointed to the empty office and asked brusquely, ‘Where is he?’
The PA pulled a face. ‘Are you looking for Sir Charles?’
‘We need to see him immediately,’ Ruth said sternly.
‘Oh, he’s not available, I’m afraid,’ the PA said with a haughty look.
Lucy looked at Ruth as if to say, This woman is getting right up my nose.
‘We have to see him now. So, you need to tell us where he is,’ snapped Lucy.
The PA raised her shoulders. ‘I can’t possibly reveal Sir Charles’ itinerary.’
Lucy glared at her. ‘What’s your name?’
Here we go, thought Ruth.
The PA looked concerned. ‘Penny, why?’
Lucy let out an audible sigh. ‘Listen Penny, we are working on a double murder investigation. We have an arrest warrant with us. If you obstruct us executing that warrant, then I am also going to arrest you under Section 68 of the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act. I’m then going to put you in a piss-ridden cell in Peckham Police Station where you can sit for the rest of the day until I decide to interview you. And if I’m really fucked off, you can stay there overnight.’
Penny looked terrified. ‘You can’t do that!’
Lucy reached for the handcuffs on her belt. ‘Watch me.’
Penny put a hand up and mumbled, ‘Sir Charles is going to the airport.’
‘Which airport?’ Ruth asked.
‘Heathrow.’
‘Where’s he flying to?’
‘Spain. Malaga.’
‘When?’
‘One thirty.’
‘Thank you. And I assume he’s travelling with Lesley Harlow?’ Ruth asked. She was the business associate that they had learned about on their visit to Cavendish Travel.
The PA nodded. ‘I think that was the plan.’
Lucy patted the PA on the arm with a smile. ‘You see? That wasn’t difficult, was it?’
Ruth glanced at her watch. It was just gone eleven. ‘Two and a half hours before he flies.’
Lucy gestured to the doors. ‘Better get our skates on then.’
CHAPTER 37
Having left his father down in Peckham nick’s custody suite, Gaughran made his way up to CID and headed for Brooks’ office. The journey back from East Sussex had been made in virtual silence. Gaughran was desperate to believe that his father hadn’t been involved in Alfie Wise’s murder. He knew that there was a vast gulf between taking backhanders from a club and giving a local villain a bit of a kicking, to the cold-blooded assassination of a teenager.
Taking a breath to steady himself, Gaughran looked in at Brooks, who was sitting at his desk. He knocked on the open door.
Brooks looked up at him and said quietly, ‘Come in and close the door, Tim.’
As Gaughran took a step inside the office, Hassan walked past. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he asked in a light-hearted tone.
‘Long story, mate. I need to talk to the guv,’ Gaughran said as he began to close the door.
‘Come and find me when you’re done,’ Hassan said.
Gaughran went over to Brooks’ desk and sat down. He was so tired that he couldn’t think straight.
‘You okay?’ Brooks asked.
Gaughran was all over the place. ‘Yes, guv.’
‘Is he with you?’
‘Yeah. He’s waiting down in the custody suite.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He and Rigby had nothing to do with Alfie Wise’s murder,’ Gaughran said. ‘He admitted off the record that they had taken backhanders from the 211 Club and that it was Rigby who put Declan Fisher in a coma.’
‘And you believe him?’ Brooks asked.
Gaughran nodded slowly. ‘I have to.’
Brooks looked directly at him. ‘There’s been a significant development. We’ve just issued a warrant for Sir Charles Wise’s arrest.’
Gaughran’s eyes widened. ‘Bloody hell! What’s the charge?’
‘Conspiracy to murder,’ Brooks said. ‘We can link him to Damian O’Connell, the man who likely killed Trevor Walsh.’
Gaughran was taken aback for a moment. And then he realised the implication of this. ‘That means we think Wise murdered his brother?’
‘Yes ... I think the night Charlie Wise, Alfie, and Walsh were spotted in the car by our eyewitness, was also the night that Alfie was murdered,’ Brooks said. ‘Walsh was there and probably helped Wise to bury his body. It explains why Wise paid him off for years to keep him quiet.’
‘And you think Wise was scared that Walsh was going to crack now that Alfie’s body has been found?’
‘Walsh only had weeks to live. He had nothing to lose by getting the truth off his chest. Wise must have guessed that Walsh was going to eventually tell us what really happened to Alfie. So, he paid someone to fly in and shut him up.’
Gaughran nodded. ‘And that puts my old man in the clear on that count.’
‘Yeah. The allegations against him aren’t going to be relevant to our investigation. I’m going to have to hand it over to the ghost squad and they’ll contact him.’ The ghost squad was slang for Scotland Yard’s Anti-Corruption Unit.
Gaughran blew out his cheeks. ‘Do you think he’ll do time?’
Brooks shook his head. ‘No. He can put his lie to us about the timing of his entry into CID as a lapse of memory. All the allegations against him and Rigby are unsubstantiated. Basically, they’re just hearsay. There’s no evidence that they took bribes.’
‘But we know he was bent,’ Gaughran said sourly.
‘Yeah. And I’m sorry. It must be hard to find that out?’
Gaughran took a few seconds. It still didn’t feel real. He’d spent the past twenty five years believing that his father was a brave, honourable copper with an impeccable service record in the Met. ‘He was my hero. It’s going to be tough to get my head round this.’
Brooks gave him a sympathetic look. ‘You think you two will get past it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Gaughran said. ‘He’s a stubborn, unforgiving bastard.’
‘You’ve done nothing wrong, Tim. We were going to bring him in anyway,’ Brooks said. ‘Your dad took bribes to look the other way. And he stood by while another man was beaten into a coma. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Yeah. I hope my family see it like that,’ Gaughran said.
Brooks picked up the phone. ‘Do you want me to ring down to the custody suite and release him now?’
Gaughran nodded as he stood up. ‘Thanks, guv. I’d rather not see him again today.’
As Gaughran went to the door, Brooks looked at him. ‘Tim?’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘You did the right thing. Don’t let there be any confusion in your mind about that.’
‘Thanks, guv,’ he said as he went out of the door and watched as Brooks rang down to the custody
suite.
Walking away from Brooks’ office, Gaughran felt numb. He reached the end of the corridor and stood in the stairwell. A couple of CID officers from the Drugs Squad smiled hello as they came up the stairs and passed him.
In that moment, Gaughran realised that his entire belief system, everything he thought he knew and trusted, had been taken away. His entire body shook as he leant on the railings and gazed out of the large window that overlooked the station’s car park. He felt sick.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure coming down the short flight of stone steps that led out of the back entrance.
It was his father.
Gaughran watched him, hoping to see a flicker of contrition or shame.
There was nothing.
His father strolled across the car park as if he owned the place and didn’t have a care in the world.
What a prick.
As if somehow aware that Gaughran was watching him, his father turned and looked in his direction.
Their eyes met for a second.
His father’s face was expressionless as he turned back and walked away across the car park.
CHAPTER 38
Ruth and Lucy had been searching Heathrow Airport for over twenty minutes but had seen no sign yet of Charlie Wise or his female companion, Lesley Harlow. They had no idea if she was a business associate or a romantic companion. They scoured the huge seating area and bars close to the check-in desks. They were still waiting for Heathrow Security to check their passenger lists for all flights to Malaga that day. There were seven, so it was going to take a while.
Ruth’s mobile phone rang, and she answered it. ‘DC Hunter?’
‘It’s Kevin Abbott again at Heathrow Security.’
Ruth had spoken to Kevin twice on the journey to the airport to advise him who they were looking for and to explain the serious nature of the investigation.
‘Hi Kevin. Any luck tracking them down?’ Ruth asked hopefully.
‘Sorry. I’ve checked all the flights to Malaga today. None of them have first or business class,’ Kevin explained. ‘I’ve had Security do a sweep through the first class and business lounges but there’s no one matching the description of your suspects.’
The Razor Gang Murder Page 19