The Godfathers of London

by M. C. Dutton

  The Bird Man was about to talk more than he normally would. He was being frank with Jazz and by doing so there was an implicit agreement that the information would stay in this small room. He would put his cards on the table and clear the air. He got another two cans out of his little fridge and they enjoyed the cool sipping of Fosters lager. Jazz enjoyed it trickling down his throat and thanked The Bird Man, saying, ‘A lovely drink of amber nectar.’ Obviously The Bird Man didn’t watch the adverts because the reference went straight over his head. He was busy thinking.

  He decided that he would come clean with Jazz as long as Jazz kept away from his business interests. Jazz confirmed he had no interest in delving into anything Barry Bentall did. He reminded Barry that there was a whole team of detectives who were doing that and he wasn’t going to give them a hand. They had an understanding now that wouldn’t be breached.If it was breached, Barry reminded Jazz darkly, he was a dead man and that was no threat. Jazz knew he meant it and nodded seriously. He was here to get answers for his own satisfaction but more importantly he wanted Ash back, walking and talking.

  The Bird Man made himself comfortable and then said abruptly, ‘Barry Jessop and Peter Daly. That was the first. The police and courts are an absolute fucking joke! When do you ever dispense justice and protect the innocent?’

  Jazz thought that was a tad too much pontificating on The Bird Man’s part. He had to answer some of that. ‘We caught Barry Jessop, we charged him and we sent him to court. The police did everything they should – it’s the bloody courts that are at fault. Don’t you think we get upset too when scum we’ve caught with good evidence to put them away get off on technicalities?’

  The Bird Man gave him that. ‘Okay, I won’t blame the police in the same breath as the courts. Now, can I continue?’

  Jazz clocked the sarcasm but decided to keep quiet. He didn’t want to upset The Bird Man.

  ‘Apparently good members of the public who felt justice hadn’t been seen to be done, and wanted true justice, looked around for an alternative. They were not people to do their own dirty work, more namby-pamby office workers,’ said The Bird Man with an ill-disguised disgust. ‘They looked for the most powerful person in their area who could get the job done. They asked for the Godfather and they got me.’ He said this with a certain amount of pride, which Jazz thought proved the ego of the man.

  The Bird Man looked at Jazz. ‘The strange thing is, Peter Daly didn’t want him to be just murdered, he wanted torture as well. He was very specific in what he wanted doing. Personally I think he watched too many American films but hey, he paid up, and so we did the job that the police and courts should have done. We dispensed justice.’

  Jazz thought that sounded a tad too Godfather-like; he wanted to ask if he stuffed handkerchiefs in his mouth to sound authentic, but checked himself quickly.

  The Bird Man watched Jazz to make sure he was listening and not taking the mickey. He gave Jazz a look that meant only one thing: danger. Jazz sat up straight and assumed a deferential persona. He knew it took a long time for him to learn lessons, but now wasn’t the time to push his luck in any way.

  ‘So,’ the Bird Man continued, ‘James Kent was an unusual one. He came with Peter Daly to find his knight in shining armour. That’s what James Kent called me, you know,’ he said smugly. ‘I never spoke directly to either of them but I got the information via one of my lads. Now Kent also wanted a special killing. He wanted John Carpenter killed specifically and he wanted a video of as much of it as he could. He hated that fucker and I don’t blame him. The courts should be shot for letting that bastard escape prison. He didn’t escape me, that’s for sure! James Kent paid the money and we organized it. We’re good at what we do.’ The Bird Man said this with a lot of pride.

  Jazz could see he truly did see himself as the Godfather. ‘What did you charge him?’

  ‘The going rate is £15,000 but I gave them a deal of £10,000. It cost Kent his nest egg but he would have paid more. I do have integrity and wouldn’t sting the man. Peter Daly only had so much money left because the bastard Barry Jessop had taken most of it.’

  Jazz didn’t think The Bird Man had any integrity but he wasn’t here to make judgements on his integrity. ‘What about Johnny Peters and the barge? Where the fuck did that idea come from?’

  The Bird Man was exceptionally proud of this one. He told Jazz that a friend of one of his men had a son who was being groomed by Johnny Peters. ‘The mother came to one of my men and told him what she knew and asked for help.’ This made The Bird Man exceptionally angry. ‘The bastard had just got away with other stuff and he wasn’t going to get away with this. I didn’t get paid for this one. I did it for free.’ He looked hard at Jazz. ‘You don’t mess with anyone I know. The idea for topping him came from the lads. They had a few drinks and thought the near-drowning and then the barge was a fucking good idea. The barges are mine and Paglesham isn’t too far away.’

  Pushing his face into Jazz’s, he said, ‘This is my community, and I do my bit of service for the community.’ In the silence that followed Jazz wasn’t sure whether The Bird Man of Barking was having a little joke about community service or whether he meant it. The Bird Man was staring at him and Jazz didn’t know what to do so he just looked back and sort of nodded. Then the rumble started in The Bird Man’s belly and travelled up into his chest and throat, coming out as raucous laughter. ‘I got you there Mr Clever Fucking Clogs, didn’t I?’

  Jazz breathed a sigh of relief. So the bastard had got a sense of humour! He gave a little laugh.

  The murders were solved, so to speak. Jazz had worked out most of it but he was glad to put them to bed. He didn’t know what would be done with them when he got back to the office. He couldn’t tell DCI Radley this story of the murders. They would just be put on the back burner. ‘Are there going to be any more murders in the near future of this type?’ he asked.

  The Bird Man shook his head. ‘Nothing going on at the moment that I am interested in so all’s quiet on the Eastern Front out there.’

  Jazz hoped that was true. There was enough going on without these types of murders and the press got all excited and out of control when these murders were reported.

  ‘One more thing,’ he asked. ‘Who got the video for Johnny Peters’ barge killing?’

  The Bird Man smiled. ‘Apart from You Tube?’ It was another joke and the laughter was rumbling in his belly. Without waiting for an answer he added, ‘The mother of the boy got a copy. She shared it with the parents of the child he fiddled with before and they have curry evenings and watch the video in slow motion.’

  Jazz gulped at someone watching that video so often. There was a lot of hatred out there and he didn’t blame the parents at all.

  Now the six-million-dollar question. ‘Is there any news on DC Ashiv Kumar yet?’ He had held off asking but now he needed to know.

  The Bird Man smiled and said he would go and ask. He told Jazz to wait. He seemed to be gone for a long time and Jazz was getting very jumpy. He wished he had another flask of vodka on him; he could really do with a drink now. His hands were shaking a little and he held them together in his lap to keep them calm. The Bird Man must help him and he must know something. No one would do anything in his area without his permission and if Ash was dead surely he wouldn’t mess around like this. He felt very anxious and wanted to talk to Tom Black but he couldn’t use his mobile in The Bird Man’s room; it would be disrespectful, and he wanted Ash returned unharmed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The joker in the pack

  After what seemed like a long time, The Bird Man came back into the room. He said he had found out some information that might be helpful. DC Ashiv Kumar had been taken by Freddie Link. The Bird Man made it known that he was not happy with this. Freddie had done this off his own back and that was not allowed. DC Kumar had been dumped behind the old B&Q building in Whalebone Lane South. It was a derelict building on a waste ground. Jazz asked if he was alive a
nd The Bird Man shrugged. He said he didn’t know. It was nothing to do with him and he’d just made noises to find him.

  Jazz jumped up and said he had to go. He thanked The Bird Man respectfully. The Bird Man made him stand still and listen. ‘Before you go, Singh, just remember, you leave my fucking business alone. You don’t meddle in any of my legit work. What I am doing for Wallasea Island is very important to the little birds out there and the RSPB, so don’t balls it up. I have given you what you want and I have found your DC – alive or dead, not sure – but you will have him. So keep your side of the bargain. I’ll be watching you very closely and one wrong move and you won’t be moving again. You will be very dead.’ He whispered the last words and they sounded chilling.

  Jazz understood and said so. The Bird Man carried on as Jazz tried to keep his patience. ‘You cant prove anything I have said. You can’t link me to any of the killings so don’t try. If you do, I will come and get you and you will never ask me another question. You will be in your box waiting to burn.’

  Jazz was convinced and scared and told The Bird Man he knew the score. He asked if he could go now and find DC Kumar. The Bird Man let go of his jacket, dusted him off, and released him.

  Jazz ran outside and dialled Tom Black. When he answered Jazz shouted breathlessly that Tom needed to get a car, an ambulance, and as many officers as he could to B&Q’s derelict building beside McDonald’s in Whalebone Lane South.

  Jazz turned on the blue flashing light and drove fast through red lights, missing old ladies dawdling as they crossed the road. After a few nifty turns, and pressing the horn more than he should, he raced along Longbridge Road through to the Fiddlers and onto Whalebone Lane South. He made it in record time and got there at the same time as Tom Black and the ambulance.

  They searched the broken-down B&Q building back and front, inside and out, but there was no sign of Ash. Jazz couldn’t believe it; The Bird Man wasn’t going to mess him about, not with what he knew. They searched again and again. Out the back of the building there were only weeds and security fencing. To get into the B&Q building they needed to open a lock that held the fencing together. That took no time at all but there was still no sign of Ash. Jazz was sweating buckets but it wasn’t sweat in his eyes that was causing the tears. They were tears of frustration. What the fuck was going on. And now the police had been called to help, everyone knew that DC Ashiv Kumar was missing. Perhaps that was no bad thing now, thought Jazz, resigned to his fate. It was his fault and he would take the consequences.

  He walked off to his car and sat down away from everyone and called The Bird Man for an update. He wanted to ask, ‘What the fuck is going on, you tosspot?’ but he couldn’t. He needed the bastard to help him. ‘Mr Bentall, I am at B&Q Whalebone Lane South and DC Ashiv Kumar is nowhere to be found. Can you help, please?’ He thought that adding the please at the end was a nice touch and he hoped it would work for him. The Bird Man said he would ring him back in a few minutes. Jazz sat and waited. He looked in the glove compartment of the car and found his other flask. Giving it a shake, he was relieved to feel the slosh of liquid. He quickly unscrewed the top and gulped a swig. He felt better in moments. Tom came up to the window and Jazz wound it down. Tom caught the blast of vodka as Jazz spoke, but he ignored it; they were so close to getting to Ash and that was more important. Jazz said he was waiting for a call that should tell them what the fuck was going on.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Traitor’s gate

  Barry Bentall saw himself as untouchable and as the Godfather of the East End. Villains and straight people alike saw him this way, and he liked it. No one went against him and got away with it. But now something had happened and he didn’t know what. His man, Lionel Wood, had taken DC Ashiv Kumar to B&Q and left him there alive. Now DC Kumar wasn’t at B&Q and he couldn’t contact Lionel Wood. What the fucking hell was going on in his sodding town, he shouted to the muscle men he surrounded himself with, whose job it was to protect him and do his bidding. He sent four of them off to search around the area of B&Q. ‘DC Kumar was left alive, so perhaps he’s escaped and is wandering the streets. He could have gone into McDonald’s, or gone for a piss – anything!’ he shouted in exasperation. His men left quickly, knowing what The Bird Man was capable of when he was livid.

  Barry Bentall paced up and down. He needed to keep Jazz on his side while he worked out what the fuck had happened.

  He rang Jazz back and told him that he was looking into it but now it was in Jazz’s best interests to sit back and let him find DC Kumar. He added darkly that he, Barry Bentall, had methods of finding people that the police couldn’t use. He would have him ready for pick-up by tomorrow morning.

  Jazz was very disappointed and bloody worried. But he dare not upset The Bird Man, who was his only lead, and he knew The Bird Man would have better resources to find out what had happened and to get Ash back. He said he would wait, and went to tell Tom Black. Tom Black wasn’t happy either and he bollocked out everyone within earshot. He told the officers to pound the streets, to take their cars and to search the area bit by bit; if a cat had shat on the ground, he shouted, he wanted to know about it. Jazz and Tom went off to look for Ash themselves. They knew that if they went to the police station DCI Radley would make their lives hell, cut off their bollocks and make them go on leave until an enquiry had sorted out where he was going to bury them. There were many haunts that belonged to The Bird Man and they would go and investigate them, just in case they found anything to do with Ash. The call was put out to find Freddie Link. Jazz promised the officer who found Freddie Link in one piece would be up for a commendation. Why any officer would believe Jazz was capable of giving such an award didn’t occur to anyone. Everyone wanted to find DC Ashiv Kumar alive.

  Tom and Jazz stood and thought. They had dispersed all officers in all directions looking for Ash; that was now covered. Neither wanted to go back to the office. By now Jazz’s phone had six text messages and three voicemail messages, all from DCI Radley, telling him to get back to Ilford Police Station before he put Jazz’s name on a wanted list. DCI Radley promised to get him dragged through the streets on his arse to explain what the hell he was doing. Jazz deleted the messages and, with a pat on Tom’s back, said they should be off to see what they could find out. It was very late. Jazz and Tom were tiring but they had to get a move on. The streets were covered by police looking for Ash. If the silly fucker had wandered off he would be found. For a few seconds Jazz’s eyes misted. ‘You stupid, tight-assed little fucker, where are you?’ he asked no one in particular. He promised himself fervently he would look after him when they found him. But first he would slap him silly for getting into such trouble. ‘Please God that I get that chance,’ he added. Tom watched and said nothing.

  Before they left they got a Big Mac and chips, and a large coffee each. It was all they would get to eat that night and hopefully the coffee would help keep them alert. They got into the car and Jazz drove to a Metro shop en route, saying he needed cigarettes. Tom could see from the car that Jazz not only bought cigarettes but also a bottle of vodka that was put into a carrier bag. He thought for a moment that a drink wasn’t a bad idea – he could do with something to perk him up – but of course he wouldn’t drink on duty. Knowing Jazz’s drinking habits, he knew he would have to keep a watchful eye on him. Jazz paid for the cigarettes and drink and went to the toilet, where he filled up his two flasks and took a hasty swig from the bottle. The smooth firewater made him gasp and then he enjoyed the pleasure as it settled on its journey down his throat to explode his senses. The after-effect made him feel warm and comfortable and invincible: a dangerous combination, if taken in excess.

  Mad Pete

  The first and only person in the know whom Jazz would contact was Mad Pete. He seemed to pick up every bit of information in the area like a hoover. He picked up crap, dirt, and gossip, but he also picked up little gems of information. He might know what was going on. He wasn’t answering his phone, which wa
s a sign that he was scared of something. They drove at speed to Gascoigne Estate. Tom waited in the car and watched out for scumbags who might try and take the wheels or break into the car, while Jazz made his way up to Mad Pete’s flat. He knocked many times but there was no response. He knelt down and shouted through the letter box that if Pete didn’t fucking open the door now he would kick the bastard’s door down and then kick him in the arse so hard his tonsils would say hello to his testicles. A reluctant Mad Pete mumbled from the other side of the door that it was late and he was in bed. With another threat from Jazz he mumbled all right, he would open up. Jazz waited impatiently as the one hundred and one bolts were undone. He was getting madder and madder, telling Mad Pete to hurry up, as he was wasting valuable time.

  Once inside he told Mad Pete that DC Ashiv Kumar was missing, that Freddie Link had him and that Ash was supposed to be left at the derelict B&Q building in Dagenham but he wasn’t there. It looked like The Bird Man didn’t know where he was either. Jazz looked at the miscreant before him, all greasy-haired, wearing a filthy T-shirt and jeans with indescribable stains, slouching in front of him. Why on earth had he thought he would know anything. Mad Pete didn’t look as if he had the energy to move, let alone listen at doors for gossip.

  Jazz frowned and said, ‘I thought you said you were in bed? Do you go to bed in your clothes, for God’s sake?’ Mad Pete just shuffled in response. Jazz gave up getting an answer to that and asked what was going on at the moment with DC Kumar; what had he heard?

  As usual Mad Pete started with, ‘I know nuffink, Mr Singh. Why do you always ask me these things? I’ll get killed if I talk about things to you.’ That told Jazz he knew something. He hoped it was something to do with Ash.

  ‘What the fuck is going on, Mad Pete? I need to know. Ash hasn’t done you any harm. He’s a nice guy, he needs our help. Just tell me what you know and I will, as always, protect you, you know that. What is happening out there?’