Liam leaned forward. “I’ve some stuff on Sharpy.”
Craig waved him back. “Let Davy finish first.”
Davy smiled so smugly that it had the subtext of him sticking out his tongue, then he realised that he had actually finished. He scrambled for something more to say to thwart Liam’s inevitable satisfied smile. “And I’m getting Fintan Delaney’s laptop and phone tomorrow.”
Craig nodded. He hadn’t thought of it but he was glad that Davy had. Something occurred to him. “Hold on, Davy; where are they coming from? We didn’t get a warrant for Delaney’s house.”
Davy grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to Craig. It was headed with a regimental crest.
“Captain Smith got it after the explosion. Apparently it’s normal procedure when there’s a bomb. Everyone, even a survivor, is s…suspect.”
Annette nodded. “Especially the only survivor, I imagine.”
Craig frowned, unsure of either the legality of the army warrant or its jurisdiction. “Did the army search the house, Davy?”
“Not in any depth as far as I know, just lifted the computer. Delaney’s phone was already at St Mary’s. The w…warrant covers a search and all the contents.” He stared at Craig. “Do you w…want me to leave it, chief?”
Craig stared hard at the paper. He wanted to know what was on Fintan Delaney’s computer as much as anyone; it probably held clues to what had got him killed, but he didn’t want dodgy procedure messing up their case in court. After a moment he nodded.
“Leave it until I check this with the lawyers. I spoke to Delaney’s parents and they seemed happy for us to look at anything in his flat, they just want his murder solved.” He set the warrant down. “I’ll get them to sign something then we won’t need this. But good thinking anyway. I’m pretty sure you’ll get the phone and laptop contents tomorrow either way. Anything else?”
“That’s me finished.” Davy was about to hand over when he remembered something else. “Oh, yes. Hanna W…Weir, Delaney’s old girlfriend. She’s clean. S…She’s at Uni in London and engaged.”
He sat back and Craig waved Annette on while he thought of the army’s arrogance. They weren’t content with just dealing with the bomb; they’d almost messed up his murder investigation as well.
Annette handed out a single sheet. “I know it doesn’t look like much but it’s taken me hours of land searches and calls to Company House to narrow things to this. The company developing that part of Smithfield is called SNI Property Holdings. Don’t ask me what the SNI stands for, because trust me, I’ve searched everywhere.”
Liam cut in. “The N.I. must be Northern Ireland.”
“Thanks, Einstein. I’d already worked that bit out. It’s the’ S’ that’s a mystery. Anyway, the parent company has holdings in the UK, Republic of Ireland, Italy, Australia and elsewhere.”
Craig interrupted. “Where elsewhere?”
“China mostly and some in the Middle East. Their modus operandi is to find an area they want to develop and aggressively target the existing tenants until they leave. They offer money and perks and if that doesn’t work they make life so difficult that people move.”
“Have they ever destroyed a property before, Annette?”
Annette shook her head firmly. “Never. That brings me onto my next point. I don’t think they had anything to do with the explosion. They’ve intimidated and bought people out, but none of their target properties in any country has ever been bombed.”
Craig shrugged. “Perhaps they’d never encountered anyone as stubborn as Jules Robinson. He sounds like he gave a new meaning to the word thran. Either way, we need to dig deeper.”
Davy whispered to Liam. “W…What’s thran mean? I’ve never heard of it.”
Liam leaned back, totally ruining Davy’s attempt at covertness, then he explained in a loud voice, like a teacher lecturing a particularly dim student.
“Thran means awkward, stubborn or pig-headed.”
Davy smirked. “So basically the boss was describing you.”
Craig stared at them. “Pay attention, you two.”
He waved Annette on and she covered her research into SNI, ending with a puzzled frown. “That’s all I could find, except that their solicitor in Belfast is someone we all know; James Trimble.”
Liam lurched forward. “James Trimble who did all the UKF’s defence work?”
“The same. He’s been working with SNI since 2012.”
Craig nodded. It made sense. If the UKF’s solicitor acted for the company that had wanted Jules Robinson’s shop then it was likely that Sharpy Greer had been in contact with SNI. If she was inspecting SNI’s future purchase it would explain why she’d been in Papyrus. It also made it unlikely that either the UKF or SNI had planted the bomb. Craig perused the group’s faces as they all reached the same conclusion; all except Liam. He checked that Annette had finished and nodded Liam on.
“Aye, well; Sharpy... I met with an old mucker of ours earlier today; Tommy Hill.”
Craig raised an eyebrow, not in disapproval but in curiosity. “How is Tommy these days?”
“Keeping his nose clean by all accounts. Full of the joys of the baby. He even showed me her photo.” Liam smiled, thinking of his baby son. “She’s bonny, right enough, and the Kerrs have had her christened; that’s what the photo was. Anyway, the old lag seems to be keeping his nose clean for her sake.”
Craig interrupted. “That and the fact that half his gang are still locked up in Maghaberry.”
“Aye, that’s helping too. Anyway, it seems that the UKF have had a name change.”
“To?”
“UKUF. I can’t keep saying ‘the’ UKUF; it’s way too grand for that bunch. Anyhow UKUF stands for UK Ulster Force. Seems they changed their name after the flag fiasco at the City Hall, just for emphasis.”
“I’m guessing Tommy didn’t say fiasco.”
“Nope. He called it a disgrace. Anyhow. Sharpy was still ruling them with a rod of iron, helped by her son Zac.”
Craig startled. Zac Greer would still have been at school. “Look into that, Liam. Zac can’t be sixteen yet.”
“Alexander the Great w…was sixteen when he became regent.”
Craig glanced at Davy sceptically. “Zac is no Greek hero, trust me. He’s got a juvenile record as long as your arm.”
Liam dragged the spotlight back to himself. “Aye well. Whoever UKUF’s boss is, Tommy confirmed they’re running protection in Smithfield. I tried to get him to tell me about their other activities but no joy.”
Craig nodded. So Sharon Greer had been at Papyrus inspecting her protection interest, and probably casing it for the SNI takeover. She’d just picked the wrong day to do it.
“By the way, boss. I gave Tommy what we discussed last week.”
“Good. Hopefully it will keep him out of trouble.”
Annette looked quizzically at the two men. “What did you give him?”
Liam tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially and Annette decided that to ask any more would give him too much importance. She would find out some other way.
“I was planning a visit to UKUF tomorrow, boss. What do you think?”
“Take Jake with you please, or if he’s not back take some uniforms. The paramilitaries on both sides hate us. And remember, we haven’t notified the next of kin about Sharon Greer’s death yet, so the boy won’t know.”
Liam nodded and handed back to Craig to sum up. Some threads were coming together and others were unravelling. Sadie Robinson’s story about protection was true, as were her words about the developers. UKUF was extorting money from Papyrus, and probably all of the businesses in the area, so there would have been no percentage it in for them to blow the bookshop up. And unless Zac Greer had suddenly decided to stage a coup, he certainly wouldn’t have destroyed the shop with his own mother inside; it was too like a plot from ancient Rome, even for them. Who would have benefited from blowing-up the shop, as opposed to a well-ordered demo
lition? Craig threw the question out there.
“OK, who wanted the shop gone?”
“The developers.”
“UKUF?”
“Someone who hated Jules Robinson.”
The suggestions came thick and fast and Craig sifted through them.
“OK, not UKUF unless Zac wanted his mother dead. Liam, check that out tomorrow. Someone who hated Jules Robinson is a possibility, but they could just have easily hated one of the other victims. We need more background on all of them to rule that out, including how often did each of them visit the shop and was it regular enough to tie it to that specific day? Everyone, get on that, please. We know that Fintan Delaney was a target, but was he the original target of the explosion?”
“Bit of a blunt way to kill him, blowing up a whole s…shop.”
Craig nodded. Davy was right. The niggle that had been there for days suddenly returned to annoy him. He couldn’t work out what it was yet, but he knew that it wasn’t something they were already working on.
“Demolishing the shop was part of the plan for SNI, albeit not in quite such an explosive way.”
“But knocking it down served their purpose, sir. It didn’t serve anyone else’s.”
“True, Annette, but if SNI was working with UKUF then they would hardly have destroyed the shop with Sharon Greer inside.”
Liam interjected eagerly. “Unless they’d got the message that Zac wanted rid of his Mum so he could take over the empire.”
Craig considered for a moment. They’d gone past detective work into the realm of speculation. It was always a risk but sometimes they struck gold. If Zac was involved they needed facts to prove it.
“OK, that brings us to background again. Liam, follow up on UKUF. Annette, go and meet the boss of SNI. Davy, you’ll have your hands full with the background checks and Delaney’s computer and phones. I’m going to his flat tomorrow to see if there’s anything there, then I want to interview James Trimble.”
“Here or at High Street, sir?”
Craig was taken aback by Nicky’s words; she’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten she was there.
“Good point, Nicky and I think you’re right, High Street will put Trimble on the spot. It’ll make a pleasant change from him doing it to one of us. Invite him to join me there tomorrow afternoon. The timing is up to you.” Craig stood up. “Right. It’s almost five o’clock on a Sunday and you all have a life outside this place. So go and live it and we’ll brief tomorrow morning at eight o’clock.”
Nicky waited until the group had dispersed and then glanced across the floor, to where Carmen was making no moves to leave. She watched as the constable rummaged in her handbag with an intense look on her face, as if its contents were desperately important. The others grabbed their coats and headed for the exit, hurrying home to their partners and kids. She was eager to do the same but she had a theory to prove. She hung back, well out of Carmen’s eye-line and watched as she glanced up occasionally to check if everyone else had gone.
Craig walked past his sparky P.A. and turned to see where her eyes were fixed. Nicky glanced at him meaningfully then back at the new member of the team. Craig beckoned her into his office. “What do you think?”
“I think she’s spikey and Liam’s been giving her a hard time for it; rightly, probably. But it’s why she’s spikey that’s interesting. I think she’s lonely, sir.”
Craig’s raised an eyebrow. “On what basis?”
“Well, look at her. It’s a Sunday evening and she doesn’t have any work to do yet, yet she’s hanging around here pretending to look in her bag for something until she thinks that everyone’s gone.”
“And?”
“She looks so sad.” Nicky folded her arms in a way that brooked no argument. “She’s lonely.”
She stared pointedly at Craig’s wall clock and her message was clear. Craig nodded and they walked out of the office together and across to Carmen’s temporary desk. Craig spoke first.
“We didn’t get a chance to talk, Carmen, so how about that chat now?”
Carman’s blue eyes lit up before she realised how nerdy such eagerness must look. She glanced away, feigning cool. “But it’s a Sunday evening, sir. Haven’t you got better things to do?”
Craig shook his head. “Nicky and I were just heading over to The James Bar for a drink. Let’s chat there.” He glanced at Nicky. “OK?”
“More than OK. Gary’s taken Jonny, that’s my twelve year old, to his granny’s. They won’t be back until seven.”
“That’s settled then. We’ll leave in five minutes.”
Craig turned on his heel quickly, but not so quickly that he didn’t see the happy look in Carmen’s eyes. Nicky was right; she was lonely. But a drink was only a temporary solution. Craig shook his head and smiled, knowing that this was only step one of whatever plan Nicky was hatching. If he knew one thing about his kind P.A. it was that she wouldn’t be happy until their new detective constable was.
Chapter Fourteen
Karachi. 9 p.m. local time
By the time the long plane journey ended Jenny Weston had convinced herself that she’d done the right thing. The explosion had destroyed one part of their problem and her terminating Fintan had dealt with the rest. She’d foolishly allowed herself to develop feelings for the boy; it was self-indulgent and had almost threatened their mission. Fareed had been right to send her to finish the job; it had brought her focus back.
As she disembarked the plane, the last thing she expected to see was the head of their operation in the arrival’s lounge. Fareed nodded at her and then towards the exit, his message clear; follow me. It could only mean one thing; that somehow their mission had failed. Perhaps Fintan was still alive? She shook her head. No, he was definitely dead. But whatever had happened their mission wasn’t over yet.
***
Docklands. Monday. 11 a.m.
“Nicky, what time am I meeting Trimble?”
“Two o’clock. Is anyone going with you?”
Craig cast a look around the squad-room. Annette and Liam were out and Jake was off the scene for at least another week. That left Davy and Carmen. Carmen had been pleasant enough company in the pub the evening before, although her tendency to quote facts in a ‘did you know’ way was vaguely annoying. But with Jake gone she was all they had. Craig remembered something and frowned.
“What happened to Ken Smith? He was supposed to have been here at nine o’clock.”
Nicky smiled. “He phoned through. He’ll be here at one. Something about Major James insisting that he takes some parade.”
Craig nodded, unsurprised at Stephen James’ need to assert his power; it had been written all over the man when they’d met. He pondered James’ ploy for a moment. He’d never understood the military’s thing about parades; the need to line everyone up and have them bellow out their name. It was like school. Craig smiled, imagining what would happen if he tried it on his team. Nicky read his mind and shook her head.
“OK, Carmen can come with me to High Street. The way we’re going for staff we’re lucky to have her.”
Craig re-entered his office, casting a longing look at Nicky’s percolator on the way.
“You want coffee and not to be disturbed for an hour. Right?”
“Right. Unless it’s John.”
She lifted a pile of files and pressed them into his hand. “Since you’ve got a free hour these need your signature for court, and I’ve some more letters to bring in.”
Craig closed the office door firmly behind him and sat down in his chair, swivelling it round so that his back was to the door. He stared out at the glinting summer river, forgetting the files he’d just set on his desk, and started to search for the itch that was scratching at the back of his brain.
Why would a developer blow up a property when they knew it was going to draw unwelcome attention? SNI had never done it before. And if they had decided to do it, then why not at night when the place was empty? It would have serve
d the same aim; to destroy the property. The Robinsons were elderly and unlikely to want to rebuild. They would have got the insurance money, sold SNI the land and everyone would have been happy enough.
And if Sharon Greer was working with SNI then why would they kill her? Why would UKUF? Even if Zac Greer wanted his mother out of the way, and they had no proof that he did, there were easier ways that wouldn’t start the cops snooping into their affairs. Craig shook his head. No; none of it made sense. Unless…
The office door was tapped quietly and Craig said “come in”. A moment later he was holding a strong coffee and staring at a pair of seagulls on his windowsill. His thoughts returned to the case.
Unless what? Unless whoever had planted the bomb had wanted to kill everyone in the shop as well as destroy it. No, too random. Not everyone in the shop, just someone. The logical answer was that Fintan Delaney had been the target all along and that’s why they’d come back to finish him off, but there were things that pointed away from him. First his age; how many enemies could someone have made by the age of twenty, especially enemies this vicious? And there must have been other places where they could have killed him more easily; his student digs for a start. And if Delaney was the target then why allow him to be in the most protected position in the shop when the bomb went off? Surely they would have arranged for him to be right on top of it. Craig shook his head in frustration and turned back to the other victims.
So Sharon Greer was at Papyrus inspecting her empire and Barry McGovern was a regular visitor. How regular? Regular enough to say with certainty that he would have been in Papyrus on a Thursday afternoon, or was he just there at the wrong time? More questions to ask. That left Jules Robinson who was there every day, but if he’d been the target, with or without his shop, then why not blow it up when he was alone, opening or closing up? And what about their unidentified victim; who was he? Craig hoped fervently that if John managed to extract his DNA it was on a database somewhere. He lifted the phone to the lab and John answered in three rings.
The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) Page 15