by M. C. Dutton
Jazz felt close to tears himself. This was just too much to bear for anyone. Stuck with a mad woman because of the love for a daughter and then she was taken away. How fucking unfair and tragic was that.
He had to ask, he didn’t want to and he didn’t know what he would do with the answer, but he had to ask. ‘Did you arrange for John Carpenter to be murdered?’
James looked up. Now he was in control and sombre. In a voice that had gained strength through hatred, he said, ‘If I did arrange for John Carpenter to be murdered I would have loved him to have been murdered in the way he was found. To kill him would be too easy. He needed to know pain and fear. I am glad it happened to him and if I had the energy and the strength, I would dance with joy.’
Jazz asked that, if he had arranged for John Carpenter to be murdered, how would it be done?
James smiled: not a happy smile, more a smile of knowledge. ‘I would find a knight in shining armour who had the balls to help me to murder him.’
Jazz reminded him that he and Amanda had already been checked out and had a fantastic alibi that was unbreakable for the approximate time of the kidnap and torture of John Carpenter.
James looked straight into Jazz’s eyes. ‘Exactly!’
Going very carefully now Jazz asked if DC Kumar had come to see James, and asked him if he had contact with Barry Bentall. Quickly James said no. Changing his question slightly Jazz asked if DC Kumar had visited at all within the last day or so, and James said that he had popped by. Jazz asked what he had talked about and James said nothing much. Jazz gave him a look that said I’m not silly and James felt a tinge of embarrassment. He wasn’t used to lying. He preferred to hide away so he didn’t have to lie.
Jazz said to James that he did understand what he had been going through but things had to be put right. DC Kumar was missing and he thought coming to see James might give him some clues. James was upset to think anything might have happened to DC Kumar; he thought him a nice man, although a bit stupid. He apologized again to Jazz for thinking like that about a police officer. Jazz just smiled and thought he wasn’t far wrong.
‘He asked me why I was in The Pig and Poke on the night of the affray when those men had a big fight outside the pub,’ said James. ‘I didn’t say anything to him but when he left I rang a number I had been given and told them what he asked.’ He looked at Jazz. ‘Did I get DC Kumar into trouble doing that? I thought I was just keeping others out of trouble by warning them.’
Jazz wanted names but James didn’t know any. No one had given him a name, just a number to ring. When Jazz asked for the number he got it out of his wallet and gave it hesitantly to Jazz.
James, calm now and defiant, stated clearly and firmly that he now had nothing to live for. The only thing that had made any sense to him was his wonderful daughter Laura and now she was gone he didn’t care. If Jazz wanted to arrest him he could. He was proud of what he had done.
Jazz interrupted, reminding him that he should be saying he would be proud of what he could have done, if he had done it. James wasn’t that interested in the fact that Jazz was trying to help him. His words were strong and clear; he’d had enough of it all and yes, he was proud to have done what he did. Jazz was perplexed and didn’t know what to do with this information so blatantly given to him.
‘So does the name The Bird Man of Barking mean anything to you?’ he asked.
James answered honestly that no, it meant nothing to him. Jazz pushed a little more. ‘How did you get anyone to assist you? Where did you go for help?’
James, now even stronger, said that the knights in shining armour who were his heroes had no names and he wouldn’t tell even if he knew. If any one should be arrested it was him, and they deserved a medal for what they did.
This wasn’t helpful to Jazz. ‘So why were you in The Pig and Poke? Did you meet someone there who helped you?’ James answered that he had. But he would say nothing else. ‘How much did it cost you or was it for free?’ asked Jazz. James said it cost his savings of £10,000 and it was the best use of money he had ever had. The best bargain in the world. He added he would have paid more if he had it but he didn’t.
Jazz, seeing James getting stronger and more confident, didn’t want to rouse him into any sort of fury that would take him off this path of revelations. ‘Did you get a video of what happened to John Carpenter?’ James didn’t seem sure he wanted to answer this, but he said he got a very small video. They had filmed the bit where Carpenter was in the woods on the ground and it showed the acid had burned his eyes. He was trying to say something but couldn’t make any noise because the acid had burnt his throat and vocal cords. His arms and legs were obviously broken and he couldn’t move. James said the video was wonderful and he wished it could have been longer.
Such hatred was a rarity for Jazz. Anger, yes, a bit of hatred – but this deep burning hatred was something he hadn’t experienced before. Up until now James had always seemed very controlled and quiet. He could see that the poor man was eaten up with hatred. He patted James on the back and thanked him for his honesty and said he would be back if necessary.
He left by the side gate so as not to go through the house and be confronted by Amanda. He waved to her as she looked out of the front room window as he went out of the front gate.
He looked at the piece of paper given to him by James and dialed the number. He put in a 141 first: no point in alerting anyone that he was calling. A gruff voice answered Yeh. Jazz pressed the cancel button. He sat and thought for a second. It sounded very much like Freddie Link. It was all making sense now. It looked as if Ash had gone to The Pig and Poke, which was straight into the lion’s den with Freddie Link there as usual. Freddie would have been ready for him. Jazz didn’t trust George at all and knew he would be in cahoots with the likes of Freddie.
He got on the phone to Tom and told him all he knew. Neither of them was sure what to do with the information. If there was a video it seemed to include Freddie Link who did the barge video. It looked like Freddie was the contact for James and that made sense. They would interview Freddie soon. They needed to put a tail on him and see where he went. Ash should be close by.
There was no mention of The Bird Man of Barking and they both knew Freddie would do nothing without his permission. As yet there was no connection between Freddie and The Bird Man on this case. They had connected Ash and the pub. George would be visited again and his memory would be sharpened. Freddie was always in the pub in the evening so a chat with him to shake him up a bit was on the cards.
Tom said a body had been found under the barge and it was being taken to a local mortuary for identification. Jazz mouthed the word wow and felt his heart pounding. It was all getting pretty sticky and he wondered if he was out of his depth. Tom was going to give George a little push and make Freddie feel uncomfortable. Jazz was off to fish for bigger fish and see what that brought up. They were both aware that if they didn’t find Ash soon they would have to report him missing, and then there would be a full-scale manhunt, which would trample over all the facts. They both agreed the next morning would be the time to talk to DCI Radley. Talking of which, DCI Radley had also rung Tom and asked about the body under the barge so Tom would be burning the midnight oil getting the report ready for tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Birds of a feather
God! Jazz needed a drink. He had gone most of the day on empty and he needed just a little Dutch courage and a big drink. He took himself off to a quiet corner of the car park and sat in his car, drinking out of his flask the clear and burningly gorgeous life-giving liquid that is vodka. He so loved the taste and the feeling it gave him. His body, taut with stress and emotion, collapsed into a relaxed mode. He could think more clearly with a drink, he told himself.
After three more drinks, he felt warm and relaxed. He could think now. His mind was forever on Ash; he had to get closer to what had happened. He wanted to go and speak to Peter Daly. Actually, what he really wanted to do was just
find Ash and stuff Peter Daly. Just as he was contemplating perhaps another drink to make an even number of four, his phone went. It was Mad Pete, speaking urgently and quickly. ‘Be ready for a phone call from The Bird Man. He wants to speak to you directly.’ Mad Pete saw this as trouble. The Bird Man never spoke on the phone directly with anyone. It was his way of keeping out of trouble and ensuring a link to him was never made. ‘What have you done, Mr Singh? I think you’re in deep trouble. Jazz felt that rumble of anxiety rising; it felt as if The Bird Man was always one step ahead of him and knew everything he did. Full of bravado, he had thought that he could take on The Bird Man and see him charged and arrested. Now he had a sinking feeling that perhaps he had taken on too much. He had got carried away with knowledge that was dangerous to possess.
The phone went again minutes later. It was The Bird Man and there were no pleasantries. ‘Git yourself over to my place now. I expect you here in twenty minutes max with an explanation.’ Any other villain and Jazz would have put them in their place. He was not at the bidding of villains and he would have marshalled a battalion of officers to back him up. But this was The Bird Man and he would have information on Ash. He knew everything that happened in his town. Jazz was also very sure that if you got in The Bird Man’s way, whether you were a politician, police officer, banker, or millionaire, there would be no hiding place; he would get you.
There were hair-raising stories about The Bird Man. Okay, stories got exaggerated but it didn’t do to underestimate him. Many, many people had gone missing over the years, attributed to The Bird Man culling his area, but no bodies had been found. It was reckoned that quite a few got fed to pigs; there were many pig farms around the Suffolk/Essex borders. That seemed very possible but how many bodies could you feed to pigs without someone noticing? There was talk of the old myth about mincing up bodies at a slaughterhouse but that was just something out of films. That would be far too dramatic and would mean more people than necessary knowing about the murders. For The Bird Man to keep his nose clean he had to have just a very few safe people he used. Villains gossip and if he had been doing half the things gossiped about, half the East End would have known about it. If nothing else, the Bird Man was clever and knew what he was doing. He had a whole fucking team of police watching him and they couldn’t lay anything on him. He was not stupid.
There was only one thing that might get The Bird Man and that was his ego. He fancied himself as a Kray; even Capone appealed to him, although Capone was American and they did things different there. He really thought he was the Godfather of London. He would help the odd little old lady with some money for furniture or heating and they loved him. He gave out tobacco to various old men in the park, and was known to have provided a play area for deprived kids that he wanted called The Barry Bentall Park. That told Jazz a lot. This man wanted to leave a legend.
In the past, Jazz had tried to tell the team working on The Bird Man that his Achilles heel was his ego but they wouldn’t listen to this upstart of a detective who had a reputation for getting into dangerous situations and taking his team with him.
He was on his way to see The Bird Man when his phone went. It was Peter with an update on the barges and he gave Jazz the information he needed. Suddenly Jazz felt that he had some negotiation powers and his meeting with The Bird Man was going to be interesting.
The Bird Man’s home looked empty and there was no car in the drive. He rang the bell and almost immediately the door opened. He was shown into the lounge by a big silent guy: a seven-foot giant with shoulders nearly as wide. Jazz nodded his thanks and gave a timid smile as the giant left him. He was left alone to wait. The room was so plush and the chairs so expensively covered in white leather that he didn’t think he should sit down. The longer he waited the more his confidence drained away. By the time The Bird Man came into the room he was rethinking whether this was a good idea. He hadn’t told anyone where he was so no one would know if he disappeared. It was a frightening thought but there wasn’t time to ponder on it. The Bird Man was speaking.
‘You have been bothering people and I want to know why.’
Jazz didn’t know how to answer that one. Bothering people sounded like he was knocking on their doors and running away. If he messed around with The Bird Man he would be in trouble but by the same token he wasn’t sure whether to show his hand yet. He was desperate to know where Ash was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
You show me yours
Barry Bentall
Barry Bentall, The Bird Man of Barking as he was known, was rattled. He wasn’t going to let this piece of shit of a Detective Sergeant know that. Detective Sergeant Jaswinder Singh, standing tall and looking loose, was seriously rattled but he wasn’t going to let this fucking bastard of a villain know that. Both men wanted to know something and both were busy thinking how they could find out what they needed to without compromising themselves.
The Bird Man was in a very difficult position. He knew where DC Ashiv Kumar was and he knew he had to do something with him soon. Someone from his team, someone trusted and not known to other members of his team, had gone to see that DC Kumar was safe and well and being fed. They knew he’d had a McDonald’s at some stage because they found the wrappings, and there was also a water bottle, now empty. DC Kumar was taken to the toilet and given more water and some fish and chips. The Bird Man thought he had been very generous indeed and that he’d made the detective very comfortable.
He was still trying to work out whether he was going to set him free as a miracle or to top him and get rid of him. He had to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages. For the moment he had some time. He had heard about DS Singh fannying around asking questions he shouldn’t ask and mentioning Ashiv Kumar’s name. DS Singh was like a little fly that kept buzzing near his face; he wanted to swat him and get rid of him but knew he would never be able to do that. Singh was such a fucking prima donna that if he went missing for more than a few hours everyone would know about it. So here he was just putting the screws on and seeing if he could get DS Singh to squirm a little and tell him something that would make his decision easier.
He was going to be a little accommodating too and see what this little shit was made of. It could be that he could frighten him and make him go away. Barry Bentall knew everything. He knew his nickname was The Bird Man of Barking and he revelled in it. He knew there was a team of officers dedicated to watching him and trying to bring him down and he loved it. Notoriety was something to be embraced and enjoyed, and he was loved by the public for it, too. He made sure he did a few good things for the elderly and the young in his town. They used to say that they were safe on the streets while The Bird Man of Barking had control. It wasn’t true – crime happened – but Barry lapped up the compliments.
Jaswinder Singh
He was desperate to ask about Ash. The Bird Man of Barking knew everything that happened in his town, especially when Freddie Link was involved. By the same token Jazz wondered if Ash was somewhere sinister. What if he’d just decided to take off and had left his phone behind? What if all of this was just a load of over-the-top hysterical behaviour because of what happened last time? Jazz was absolutely beside himself, not knowing what to do to find out. He promised himself that when he got hold of Ash he would knock his block off and kick him down every staircase he could find.
He was desperate for a drink. He wanted to sit with The Bird Man, have a drink, and just discuss what was happening in a friendly sort of way. He nearly giggled at such a ridiculous thought. The Bird Man was never friendly with anyone. There was murder in his eyes. The thought made Jazz shiver and he thought of Ash and knew what he would have to do.
Discussions and Decisions
The Bird Man had seen enough. Jazz looked washed out and ready to talk. As he had the last time, he took Jazz to the back door and out into his bird shed. It was his preferred area to talk in. There were no prying eyes and no one to overhear what was said. The only other way into the shed was throug
h the birdcage area, and the birds would become disturbed and fly and squawk if someone tried to enter that way. They were the best alarm system. It was the perfect place for a confidential chat.
Jazz was now not up for messing around. ‘I’m looking for DC Ashiv Kumar and I think you know where he is.’ He stared intently at The Bird Man. It was a tense moment but it was broken with a smile and a shrug from The Bird Man. ‘I don’t know why I would know where he is, Jazz.’ Jazz caught the personal use of his name and he knew immediately that The Bird Man knew exactly where Ash was. It was in his way of answering and in his stance. Jazz felt the cold stone of fear sinking into his stomach. Please God, let Ash be alive and okay, was the mantra going through his head. The Bird Man saw the effect of his words and he smiled. He had Jazz just where he wanted him.
‘What the fuck are you doing besmirching my name, Singh?’ was the next barb thrown at Jazz.
Jazz looked up and laughed. He couldn’t help it. ‘Besmirched?’ he repeated.
For a moment The Bird Man was angry: who was this fucking bastard talking to? Then, fed up with the games and knowing Singh could do nothing with anything he told him, he got two beers out of the small fridge in the corner and handed one to Jazz. They sucked the beers for a moment and declared a truce.
Jazz started with James Kent and Peter Daly. He told The Bird Man he knew he had organized the murders of both John Carpenter and Johnny Peters and he suspected he was also responsible for the murder of Barry Jessop. The Bird Man took a swig of his beer and said pointedly, ‘So what! They were all lower than the shit on my shoes. The courts did nothing to put these bastards away. Perhaps when help was asked for it was given.’