‘Thanks Kevin. I’m guessing they must be out here somewhere. What about the passenger lists?’
‘We’ve checked five out of seven and your passengers aren’t on them. I’m chasing the other two.’
‘Thanks Kevin. Call me as soon as you’ve got them.’ Ruth ended the phone call. She then looked at Lucy and said, ‘Looks like Sir Charles Wise and his lady friend are going to have to slum it in economy.’
‘Poor them,’ Lucy said sarcastically and then gestured to the escalators. ‘Come on, they’ve got to be in here somewhere.’
Taking the escalators to the first floor shopping precinct, Ruth scanned the busy concourse. It was August, which was holiday season, so the airport was rammed. There were 100,000 passengers flying out of Heathrow that day.
Ruth gave Lucy a frustrated look. ‘Make a sentence out of haystack and needle.’
Lucy went over to the central concourse. ‘We’ve been everywhere, haven’t we?’
By now, Ruth was wondering if they were wasting their time.
‘Where would you go if you wanted to keep out of sight at an airport?’ Ruth asked.
Lucy pointed over to a large but dimly-lit pub. ‘I’d hide in a dark bar in the corner out of the way.’
‘As good a place as any,’ Ruth agreed.
They turned and headed for the pub entrance where guests in fancy dress at a rowdy stag do were chanting a football song.
Moving forward into the darkened pub, Ruth scanned the customers. It was busy, noisy, and a little difficult to see much.
They gradually made their way towards the back.
Suddenly, two figures rose from their seats on the other side and headed towards the nearest exit.
It was Charlie and his companion, Lesley. They were wearing baseball caps and sunglasses.
‘Over there!’ Ruth yelled, tapping Lucy’s shoulder.
Got you, you bastards!
They broke into a run across the pub, barging past customers at the bar.
‘Police, out of the way!’
Following Charlie out of the exit, they looked left and then right.
Nothing.
‘Where are they?’ Lucy growled.
Ruth spotted Charlie heading back towards the escalators, with Lesley Harlow close behind.
‘There!’ she said, and they set off again.
Ruth watched as Charlie pushed people aside and ran down the escalators to the ground floor.
‘Police! Move out of the way!’ Ruth yelled as she and Lucy zig-zagged down the moving escalator.
By the time they reached the bottom, Charlie and Lesley had disappeared again.
‘Down this way!’ Lucy urged, as she took over the lead and they headed towards passport control.
Now out of breath, they arrived at the entrance to passport control. Glancing around, there was no sign of them.
Ruth took out her warrant card as she jogged through security to check the queues of passengers who were waiting to get through to the departure lounges on the other side.
Frantically scanning to the right and the left, she couldn’t see Charlie or Lesley anywhere.
Lucy shook her head. ‘How can they have vanished?’
With her pulse still racing, Ruth shrugged. ‘I don’t bloody know.’
HASSAN AND GAUGHRAN were sitting at their desks when Brooks came into the CID office. Gaughran had been distracted by the events with his father. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this anxious or disturbed before. His train of thought was broken as Brooks approached.
‘Ruth and Lucy have spotted Charlie Wise at Heathrow Airport. I’m liaising with SO18 so we can make sure that he doesn’t leave the country,’ Brooks said. SO18 was the Aviation Security Operational Command Unit, which was essentially Met police officers at the airport.
Hassan looked over. ‘Have they narrowed down which flight he’s supposed to be on yet?’
Brooks shook his head. ‘No, Heathrow are dragging their poxy feet.’
Gaughran gestured to a file that he was looking at. ‘Guv, I’ve found a record of Trevor Walsh working as an informant for CID in this nick in the 1970s. Looks like Bannerman was right.’
Brooks frowned as he took this information in. ‘We’re still looking for a clear motive for Charlie Wise to have organised for Walsh to be murdered.’
Gaughran nodded. ‘Yes, guv. You think it was connected to Walsh being a snout?’
Brooks shrugged. ‘What if Charlie was paying Walsh to feed information back to CID officers?
‘That makes sense,’ Gaughran said. ‘If Walsh was being paid, Charlie could keep one step ahead of CID as well as feed them false information.’
‘Although it poses the question why would he choose to kill Walsh now?’ Brooks wondered aloud.
‘Wise knew we would be talking to Walsh about the discovery of Alfie’s body. He knows Walsh has a terminal diagnosis and panics that he’s going to tell us about his involvement in Alfie’s murder, and being paid to provide false intelligence while working as a police informant?’ Gaughran proposed.
‘That’s two motives for Wise to have Walsh killed,’ Brooks agreed.
Hassan came back from the fax machine with a quizzical look on his face. ‘Guv?’
‘Syed? What have you got?’ Brooks asked.
Hassan held up the fax as he approached. ‘Forensics stuff back from the lab.’
‘Is it the DNA test on the remains?’ Gaughran asked.
Hassan nodded. ‘Yeah. Although it says it’s only a partial match with Charlie Wise’s DNA and an 0.05% variable.’
Brooks frowned. ‘What does that mean?’
‘No idea, guv. We’ll have to ring them to get an explanation,’ Hassan said as he pointed to another part of the text. ‘They’ve had the carbon dating for the remains back which I don’t understand.’
‘What do you mean?’ Brooks asked.
Hassan arrived at the desk and handed it to him. Gaughran could see that he was looking thoroughly perplexed. ‘I think you’d better have a look at this yourself.’
CHAPTER 39
Having made their way through passport control and baggage checks, Lucy was scanning the passengers for signs of Charlie Wise and his companion while Ruth answered a call from Kevin Abbott at Heathrow Security.
Hanging up her phone, Ruth looked at Lucy. ‘Right, we’ve got the flight number and the departure gate.’
‘Great!’ Lucy said as they broke into a run. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Gate 23,’ Ruth said, pointing left. ‘Flight 274 to Malaga.’
‘What time does it go?’
‘One thirty.’
Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘It’s one ten.’
‘Yeah. I know,’ Ruth said as they picked up speed. ‘They’re already boarding.’
‘Can’t they prevent them from boarding?’
Ruth shrugged. ‘They said they’d try!’
‘That’s helpful.’
As they weaved in and out of passengers, Ruth was getting out of breath. She knocked into a woman who walked straight into her path.
‘Sorry!’
Glancing left, she saw they had reached Gate 18.
Running full pelt, Ruth was desperate to get to Charlie Wise before he boarded the plane or they closed the gate.
They passed Gate 20.
Feeling a buzz in her pocket, Ruth pulled out her phone as she ran. Someone from Peckham nick was calling her. They’ll have to bloody wait. I’m a bit busy.
Gate 23 loomed into view as Ruth and Lucy slowed.
To her relief, there was a long line of passengers who were waiting to have their boarding passes checked.
‘Just in time,’ Lucy gasped.
Ruth’s phone rang again. Someone was trying to get hold of her, so she answered it as she and Lucy scanned the waiting passengers for Charlie Wise and Lesley Harlow.
‘DC Hunter?’
‘Ruth, it’s Brooks ...’
Ruth interrupted him. ‘Guv, I’m a bit bus
y at the moment. Can I call you back?’
‘No. Not really.’
Suddenly, Ruth spotted Charlie Wise and another figure waiting in the queue. They were still wearing baseball caps and sunglasses, but she could tell it was Wise.
‘Guv, I’m about to nick Charlie Wise in about five seconds, so can it wait?’ Ruth said, tapping Lucy on the shoulder and pointing out Wise to her.
‘The body we found at Dixon’s Timber Yard isn’t Alfie Wise.’
Ruth thought she had misheard Brooks. ‘Say again, guv.’
‘It wasn’t Alfie Wise in there. Those weren’t his remains.’
‘Who was it then?’
‘No idea.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ruth was now utterly confused.
‘Fairly sure, Ruth. The bones in that hole were over three hundred years old,’ he said.
‘What? I don’t understand.’
Ruth tried to take in what Brooks had just told her as she and Lucy approached Charlie Wise. They were only about ten yards away.
Ruth tried to catch her breath. ‘I don’t ... that doesn’t make any sense.’
‘I know. So, when you nick him, you might wanna ask him what the hell is going on.’
‘Yes, guv. I’ll call you back when we have him in custody,’ Ruth said breathlessly as she ended the call.
‘Everything all right?’ Lucy asked.
‘Not really but let’s get this done now.’
Taking a few steps forward, Ruth and Lucy were beside Charlie Wise in the queue.
‘Charlie?’ Ruth said.
Charlie spun, saw them and looked as if he was going to run.
‘Come on, Charlie. Let’s not make this a big drama. It’s over,’ Lucy said grabbing his arm. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘There’s no law against me travelling to Spain, is there?’ he asked.
For a second, the figure next to him went to run, but Ruth grabbed them. ‘Hey! Where do you think you’re going?’
Except, the figure she had stopped wasn’t a woman but a man in his 60s.
‘Who are you?’ Lucy asked.
‘Leslie Harlow,’ the man grumbled in an annoyed voice as he handed over his passport. Lucy looked at it to confirm that was his identity.
Bloody hell. Leslie - the male name!
‘Okay, but you’re both going to have to come with us,’ Ruth said. As she spoke, an idea was forming very quickly in her mind based on what Brooks had just told her.
Moving them to one side, Lucy cuffed Charlie. ‘Charlie Wise, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to murder. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in a court of law.’
‘You know who my brief is. And you do know that I’ll be walking out of your station after twenty minutes and then suing you for wrongful arrest?’
‘That’s all very interesting,’ Lucy said. ‘Come on.’
Harlow looked at them. ‘You can’t stop me from flying. I haven’t done anything.’
Having taken a very close look at Leslie Harlow, Ruth gestured to him. ‘Mr Harlow, can you take off your sunglasses and hat please?’
Harlow sneered. ‘Why?’
Ruth looked at him. ‘Just do it, please.’
As Harlow removed his baseball cap and sunglasses, Ruth realised she wasn’t looking at Leslie Harlow.
Ruth looked at Charlie. ‘I can see the family resemblance, Charlie.’
Charlie frowned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Taking out her cuffs, Ruth looked at the man in front of her. ‘Alfie Wise, I’m arresting you for perverting the cause of justice.’
CHAPTER 40
Three hours later, Ruth and Lucy were in Interview Room 1 with Charlie Wise and his solicitor, who had been present at the interview they had conducted at Charlie’s home two days earlier.
Pressing the button on the recording equipment, Ruth moved her chair forward. ‘Interview with Sir Charles Wise, Peckham Police Station, 29th August 1997. Present are DC Hunter, DC Henry, Sir Charles Wise and his legal representative, Ms Barbara Lister.’ Ruth looked at her watch. ‘Interview commencing at 3.18 pm.’
Lucy reached into a folder that was placed on the table. ‘Sir Charles Wise, can I just remind you that you are still currently under caution. I want to take you back to the 27th November 1956. Could you tell us, in your own words, what happened that day?’
He and his solicitor had a hushed conversation.
‘No comment,’ Charlie said with no sign of emotion.
‘Let me tell you what I think happened and then you can tell me if I’m wrong. You, your brother Alfie, and Trevor Walsh travelled to Dixon’s Timber Yard in the evening. You had obtained human remains, presumably from one of the nearby cemeteries, which you buried along with Alfie’s signet ring and your car key. Somewhere along the line, you may have fired a bullet into the back of the skull that you had stolen,’ Lucy said. ‘You presumed these remains would be found a few months or even a couple of years later. The key would be traced back to you, and you would identify the signet ring as belonging to Alfie. Alfie would then be declared dead and would therefore be safe. This is a long time before anyone had ever heard of DNA or carbon dating. How am I doing?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘No comment.’
‘We’ve checked the passport that Alfie was carrying. Leslie David Harlow was born on 12th October 1939. However, Leslie David Harlow died three days later and is buried in Guildford cemetery,’ Lucy explained. ‘Could you explain that to us, Charlie?’
‘No comment.’
Ruth then put some papers down on the table. ‘Checking the electoral register, it also appears that Leslie David Harlow has been a resident of Walton-on-Thames since December 1956. We’ve also checked UK passport control. Leslie Harlow has accompanied you on trips to Spain for the last forty years. Could you explain that to us, Charlie?’
‘No comment.’
‘My guess is that you felt Alfie was in great danger. Either from Terry Droy and Eddie Bannerman, who wanted revenge for Frank Weller’s death, or from something that happened at the 211 Club. You faked Alfie’s death and created a new identity for him to live in safety in Surrey for the last forty years. Is that correct?’ Ruth asked.
‘No comment.’
‘The only person who knew that Alfie was alive and probably also knew where he lived was Trevor Walsh. To keep him quiet, you paid Trevor Walsh on a monthly basis for his silence. Except something changed all that. The discovery of Alfie’s fake remains meant we interviewed Trevor Walsh. But instead of keeping quiet, he told us about a letter that Alfie had written to him. Walsh had only weeks to live, and you knew that. You were worried that he didn’t want to take what he knew about Alfie to his grave. You couldn’t take the risk of Walsh blowing Alfie’s cover, so you used a contact in Belfast to find someone who would fly in and kill him to keep him quiet. Is that correct?’
‘No comment.’
Charlie and his solicitor exchanged a few words.
‘I have advised my client to make no comment until he is officially charged with a criminal offence. If you are not going to charge my client, then I would ask that you release him,’ the solicitor said.
Lucy looked at her watch. ‘As you are well aware, we have a full twenty-four hours within which to make a charge. Charlie can return to a holding cell until we need to speak to him later.’
‘You can’t expect me to stay the night here,’ Charlie protested.
‘I know it’s not the Kensington Place Hotel, Charlie, but it’s the best we can do at the moment,’ Ruth said. ‘I’m sure they will give you a blanket if you ask nicely.’
CHAPTER 41
It was the next day as Ruth stretched out her legs and rolled over in bed, becoming aware there was someone else in the bed. Blinking open her eyes, she saw Ella’s beautiful face on the pillow. She must have crept into her bed during the night, but now she was fast asleep. Reaching over, Ruth moved a strand of her hair from her
face and then traced her finger over Ella’s hand.
As Ella stirred and turned a little, the early morning light shimmered on her face. God, she really looks like Dan, Ruth thought. Her nose, lips and chin are identical to his. She remembered being in this bed with Ella in between her and Dan when she was first born. How had it all gone so wrong? They had been so happy then, hadn’t they? Taking Ella in her pram up to Clapham Common, or wandering along Abbeville Road and getting takeaway coffees. She remembered being so happy that she didn’t want days like that to ever end.
Taking her phone from her bedside table, Ruth clicked it open and then hesitated. She knew in her heart that allowing Dan to say goodbye to Ella was the right thing to do. Despite all that he had done, he deserved to see his daughter before he left, didn’t he? Denying him that felt cruel.
Tapping the keys on her phone, Ruth composed a text – Hi there. I’d like you to meet me and Ella up by the swings on Clapham Common this afternoon. Let’s say 2 pm. Please don’t let her down. Ruth.
She sent it and, before she had even put the phone back down, a new text arrived – I’ll be there, Dan.
Ruth reached for the remote control and switched on the early morning news. It was a weather report, and she was pleased to see that it was going to be 82 degrees with bright sunshine in London.
The news anchor looked at the camera and said, ‘And the headlines this morning.’
A photograph of Charlie Wise appeared on the screen.
‘Business tycoon and political advisor Sir Charles Wise has been arrested and kept overnight at a South London police station. A police spokesperson said that Sir Charles was helping them with their enquiries. It comes only a week after the remains of a body, thought to be that of his brother Alfie Wise, were discovered, also in South London.’
Ruth’s phone rang. It was Brooks. As she answered the phone, she muted the television.
‘Guv?’
‘Sorry to call you early on a Saturday, Ruth.’
‘No problem. I’m watching the news. Charlie Wise is the lead story.’
‘Well, it’s about to get even bigger.’
The Razor Gang Murder Page 20