The Godfathers of London

by M. C. Dutton

  Put out and quite aggrieved, Jazz asked, ‘What the hell is so funny?’ It never occurred to him that everyone knew he worked in a way that was close to the edge. He got results and put the villains away. He certainly would never go over the side and be a villain’s pet.

  The Bird Man told him to shut up and listen. Jazz raised his eyebrows in surprise but agreed to do what The Bird Man said. It was a promise – after he had found Ash, of course. He said he would come back later with the result. The Bird Man, satisfied by this, told Jazz to get to Parsloes Park at 11 a.m. sharp, and wait. DC Kumar would be deposited there for him to collect.

  With many thanks Jazz looked at his watch. It was seven minutes to eleven and it was going to be touch and go to get there in time. He raced out of The Bird Man’s office and shouted to Tom to fire up the Batmobile – they were off to get Ash in Parsloes Park. With no further ado, catchy sayings or what part of Parsloes Park, Tom Black screeched the car into hyperspeed and put on the blue lights and the siren. They were going to get there in time if it killed them.

  It was a quiet time for Parsloes Park. The kids were in school – okay, some of the kids were in school – and for some it was still early. The sight of the five Panda police cars screeching to a halt in Parsloes Avenue and three motorbike police turning up, with four police on bicycles scouring the park, was a bit of a surprise for most residents. A small crowd started to gather as things got more interesting. All the Panda cars had their blue lights flashing and then a car arrived with siren going full blast and a flashing blue light. Jazz and Tom jumped out of their car and checked their watches. It was 11 a.m. and they had made it. They looked around, not knowing what to do first or where to go.

  On the other side of the park a car had pulled up and something had been thrown from the rear door. Jazz was the first to run forward. It was a long way to the other side but he ran like the wind. An officer on a bike was already there and he was looking at someone in a sack writhing on the ground. Muffled words were coming from the sack. Jazz pushed the officer out of the way and pulled the sack off the person’s head. He looked hard: yes, it was Ash.

  Jazz pulled off the gag and rubbed Ash’s cheeks, which must have been stiff and sore.

  ‘Ash, Ash, thank God you’re safe! You have no idea what everyone has been through to get to you.’ Jazz was emotional. The shock of seeing Ash looking so pathetic but alive made him realize how much this man must have had to cope with. Ash was crying. He kept saying he’d thought he was going to be killed and he couldn’t believe he was alive.

  Jazz untied Ash’s hands and feet and rubbed them. The poor man must have been tied up for days. An ambulance was called and it took Ash away. Jazz told Tom he would go to the hospital later but in the meantime, they needed to go to Rainham Marshes and find Vinnie James. Together with a couple of vans full of officers they made their way to Rainham. It didn’t take them long to find Vinnie James’ body. It had been dumped close to the road.

  ‘Get out of my fucking way, you prick!’ The dulcet tones rang out across the marshes, directed at some poor young officer.

  ‘Bloody hell, Jenny, how did you get here so fast?’ Jazz was glad to have her there.

  ‘Someone has to sodding well get here before you ruin the evidence,’ was Jenny’s loving response. Jazz always felt better when she was around. He knew she would get everything done quickly and he knew she was sweet on him so he would get the results quickly. She was the best Scenes of Crime Officer (SOCO) in the Met and nothing got past her. ‘Is there anything you can tell me straight away?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. He’s bloody dead! Will that do for now?’

  Jazz had to smile; he nodded and said he would leave her to it for now.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Did they live happily ever after?

  Jazz felt like a blue-arsed fly, rushing here, there and everywhere, watching the time and getting where he had to be. It was now noon and he was on his way for a quick chat with Ash. He had to be in DCI Radley’s office at 1 p.m. but he needed to get things straight before he went in to that meeting. His job, his life, his reason to get up in the morning – all this was on the line and he knew it.

  Ash had been put in a room on his own. Jazz was relieved to hear that this was only because Ash was traumatized, tired and dehydrated. He sat on the end of the bed looking at Ash, who was napping but opened his eyes when Jazz sat down. Having to say what he needed to quickly and then leave, Jazz smiled and, before Ash had a chance to say anything, went into his tirade about what had happened, what Ash had done and how they’d found him. He finished the tirade by giving a story that Ash could tell everyone and anyone, and that Jazz was going to tell DCI Radley in about half an hour at his meeting. Ash just stared at him. Jazz wasn’t sure if he was taking it all in but he needed to let him know the plan.

  ‘The way I see it,’ Jazz started, looking at Ash to make sure he was paying full attention, ‘is that you were on an undercover covert operation for me and Tom Black. Okay so far?’

  Still, Ash stared intently at him. It was a bit disconcerting but Jazz had only a few more minutes before he had to leave. ‘That’s exactly what I’m going to say to DCI Radley. Apart from the fact you were a fucking dickhead to have gone alone to The Pig and Poke and talk about murders and implicate The Bird Man, I need to cover your arse and mine with DCI Radley, who is going to sack both of us for all the havoc caused by your stupidity.’ Getting no response, he asked again, ‘Okay so far?’ Still no response, just a stare, so Jazz had to carry on. ‘What we have is the person who killed Johnny Peters, the paedophile. Unfortunately he was murdered contract-kill style but it was definitely him on the video, so you and I have solved that case. Okay with you?’ he repeated for the third time. The silence was deafening. Jazz had to leave if he was to get to his meeting in any sort of respectable time, but he couldn’t leave Ash like this, looking like a zombie.

  ‘Ash, are you okay? I’ve gone on here about everything but you look like shit.’ Still getting no response, Jazz calmed down and thought fuck it, DCI Radley can wait. He started again. ‘Ash, I was so worried about you. Tom and I and half of the Barking and Dagenham Police Force have been on the hunt for you. There has been some serious wheeling and dealing going on in the background to get you back. Not only did Freddie Link kidnap you but for Christ’s sake! You got kidnapped again by Vinnie James and taken to South London.’

  For a moment there was a flicker of interest in Ash’s eyes. He stirred. ‘Why the fuck did that happen? I was blindfolded with that putrid sack over my head, I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I thought I was being taken to be killed so many times, I was getting used to it.’

  His laughter was shaky and a tad manic, Jazz thought. He placed a hand on Ash’s shoulder. ‘We got you back alive because The Bird Man used his connections. For a start I found out something on The Bird Man, which is between him and me, and that got his interest and his co-operation in finding you. Ash, I owe him big time now and he’s going to make me pay, but it was worth it.’ He caught a warning look from Ash and shook his head. ‘No, no, nothing illegal, but something odd, and I have to do it. I got you back alive and that’s all that matters.’ He looked at Ash, so pathetic and glum, and felt a pang of remorse. ‘Ash, I’m so sorry. I’ve let you down.’ But something occurred to him that made him sit up straight. Cheekily he added, ‘But hey!! You’re alive. I didn’t get you killed this time – that’s got to be a bonus.’

  Ash looked at him and suddenly leaned back onto his pillow and started to laugh. When, finally, he quieted down, he said, ‘You’re a fucking bastard to work for, DS Singh, and I’m not sure I’m up for it anymore.’

  Jazz was taken aback by this upfront comment, but he wasn’t going to have any of that. ‘You need to think on this when you feel better, Ash. I think we’ve got to know each other now and it would be a pity if you left. Yes, there have been some mistakes made.’ When Ash laughed Jazz realized just how stupid that statement was. There had
been huge rollercoaster fucking tsunami-sized mistakes made by both of them. He added, ‘Look, Ash, we can start again. For the moment you have to forget about the babe in the wood murder and the Sicilian murder. We can’t do anything about those. You were on the right tack but the clients will never talk and the murderers will never be found. We’ve got one of the murderers. The Barge Murder is solved and we have got the guy with the ring but unfortunately he is dead. He was Vinnie James, the bastard who kidnapped you from Freddie Link and took you to South London.’

  Ash began to argue the point of who the murderer was but Jazz told him to just go with the result.

  He asked Ash to remember who they were dealing with. The Bird Man was powerful and untouchable and the Met Police had a hands off policy. Only the special team put together to watch The Bird Man had any power over what happened to him. He did promise Ash that one day, when he wasn’t looking, he would get The Bird Man and put him away.

  Ash, looking at this jumped-up DS Jaswinder Singh, actually believed him. If anyone could do it, he could. He flouted every rule in the book, hung onto evidence like a mad dog with a bone and usually got his villain. Yes, Ash believed him.

  Jazz thought Ash looked a bit more alert. His wife, mother and children would be visiting soon and he suggested that Ash build a good, exciting and brave story to tell them; if he were Ash, he’d do that.

  Ash laughed again. Typical! Mind you, he thought, maybe a heroic tale would make his wife fancy him more, and make his mother prouder and his children in awe of him. He’d work on that while he waited. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit better. Did he want a working life with DS Singh? It seemed to be a bloody, dangerous and frantic ride. Did he really want it? At this precise moment, the answer was no, he didn’t want it or need it.

  Jazz left with a promise to be back later after his grilling with DCI Radley. By now he was tired, hungry, thirsty and not looking forward to the meeting. He had a lot of blagging to do and a lot of temper to deflect. In the meantime, he bought a bottle of vodka and filled his flasks. He took a few swigs to relax himself. He told himself he deserved a drink after what he had dealt with, and he needed to keep everything clear in his mind to explain it to DCI Radley. A few more swigs made him feel confident. He shouldn’t have been driving but it wasn’t far to go. He popped a couple of spearmint chewing gum strips in his mouth to clear his breath and it made his growling stomach feel better. He would get a McDonald’s later.

  His meeting with DCI Radley went fairly well – if being told he was to stay in the office for the next few days and write everything up in a neat and expansive way was a good thing. He was also teetering on the edge of being suspended for not keeping control of his team, and for being so bloody stupid as to lose Ash and causing half the Met Police in Barking and Dagenham to be pulled off other work to find him. Jazz did point out that the police hadn’t found Ash; it was he, Jaswinder Singh, who’d found him and got him back. That caused a tirade of home truths Jazz could have done without.

  He left DCI Radley’s office after a full hour of tirades, justifications and explanations, exhausted and a tad depressed. What the fuck was he doing and what had he done? Had he even achieved anything? He realized he had taken on The Bird Man of Barking and he liked to think it was a draw but perhaps he had lost. Tom was about to be hauled into DCI Radley’s office for explanations and tirades. Jazz wished him luck and said it was his fault, not Tom’s. At least they had solved the Barge Murder, which had now gone viral on You Tube. DCI Radley was spitting mad about this. Apparently it had had a million hits before it was taken off. The press was baying at the door, and as DCI Radley was now the expert in dealing with the press, he put on his dress suit and gave a statement. At least now he could say the murder was solved due to brilliant police work and the murderer had been found dead.

  As an aside, Jazz suggested to DCI Radley that it might be a good idea for officers to look at the other two murders, those of John Carpenter and Barry Jessop, to see if there was any connection with Vinnie James. He suggested the murders were unusual and quite pertinent to their crimes. It could be, he suggested, that Vinnie James had taken it on himself to be a knight in shining armour. James Kent had referred to the person who killed John Carpenter as a knight in shining armour. Vinnie was very capable of killing these people. DCI Radley paused for thought and nodded; yes, it might be a good idea and it would clear up the murders. Jazz felt good: another plan had come together. He was a tad too cocky but he could also be right. DCI Radley was desperate to solve these murders and get the press off his back so it was worth an investigation. Jazz said that Tom Black was investigating these to which DCI Radley told him in no uncertain terms to keep away from Tom Black and his team and let them do their job. He didn’t need Jazz interfering.

  Jazz left to go home. He’d had enough for now and he wanted to sleep, eat and have a drink. He had lots to think about. It was only 3 p.m. but he wanted to visit Ash again later, after his family had left. He got his McDonald’s, another bottle of vodka (no sense in running out), and took himself home. It was strange going home during the day; the house looked different in daylight.

  Mrs Chodda was out and the house was quiet. He could smell the curry she’d had been cooking for tonight and envied the domesticity of the Choddas’ lives. Suddenly he wished he had someone to come home to. Someone who would ask what sort of day he had, someone who cared. He felt a little low but he knew that was because he was tired and needed a drink. He would feel better later. He had eaten most of the Big Mac before he got home but he sat with a glass of vodka and orange, and some cold chips. He wondered why the chips got cold so quickly but it was food and he was used to cold chips.

  He slept until 8 p.m. and woke feeling better.

  It was late, but he was the police, so visiting the hospital at 9 p.m. received only a few grumbles from staff. Ash was bedded down for a good night’s sleep and had just turned off the TV in his room. Hospital life started and ended early, so 9 p.m. was like midnight to patients. Ash woke from a gentle slumber as Jazz entered the room, bouncy and full of life. ‘I’m never going to feel better if you keep doing this,’ was all Jazz got for a hello. He wanted Ash to think again about working with him. Okay, he conceded, he hadn’t given him much time but he needed Ash to work with him.

  Ash sat up. He hadn’t expected to hear that he was useful to work with. All he had got from Jazz up to now was how he was a useless prick and a dickhead. He nearly agreed with some of that – but what the hell was Jazz going on about now?

  Jazz had thought about Ash and their teamwork. He said that he himself was good at what he did, but that he had no sense of correct procedures, and he couldn’t even write. Ash laughed at such an exaggeration but he listened. What Jazz was trying to say in his own way was that there was a good partnership here. Ash was brilliant at finding out information, trawling through the internet, reading and writing reports, formulating plans, and placating other members of staff and other teams of officers. Jazz needed that; he didn’t want to and couldn’t do any of the above. He figured that between them they could be awesome and solve every crime. He cited the work Ash did in finding out where James Kent and Barry Jessop had been. No one else would have found that out because no one except Ash read such mind-blowingly boring reports. Ash wasn’t sure that was quite a compliment but Jazz assured him it was. Getting carried away with it all Jazz thought that together they would be like Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson. Of course, Jazz would be Sherlock Holmes but Dr Watson was the mainstay in the duo. By now Ash was laughing again. This man was mad! Upbeat, brilliant but definitely mad.

  Ash had talked with his family who were so proud of him. They didn’t know what had gone on for real but the story he’d told them of undercover work scared, thrilled and excited them. His wife adored him and his mother fought for prime position beside the bed next to her heroic son. His children talked excitedly about Daddy being like 007, which he quite liked.

  He thought about his career in th
e Police Force. It would take him a long time to get over being kidnapped and he’d been promised treatment at Goring for the Post Traumatic Stress he was experiencing. He still didn’t know what he would do with his career, but if he was working in the office doing background work, he would like that. For the time being he just wanted to stay safe and keep taking the tablets that staved off the terror he felt when he tried to sleep and the nightmares started. Jazz said he would keep in touch and maybe even visit him in Goring in Sussex where police personnel went for treatment. Ash hoped he wouldn’t visit him. For the time being he just wanted to be left alone and get on with getting better; Jazz would be no help with that.

  Jazz left him at 11 p.m., confident that after Ash got treatment they would be back working together. Ash was alive and uninjured. Sure, his mind was a bit scrambled at the moment, but Jazz knew that one. It would pass with treatment. He went home knowing that Ash would make a good decision and would continue working with him in the future.

  Tom had his meeting with DCI Radley and came off a lot lighter than Jazz. He rang Jazz and told him that all he’d got was a slapped wrist. Jazz liked working with Tom but he was told that wasn’t going to happen again. Apparently Jazz was a bad influence on Tom Black, which made Tom laugh. But hey, he suggested, they should just get on with their work and see where it took them. Tom had more fun working with Jazz than he ever did with his team and he wasn’t going to let that be taken away from him. His parting words were that DCI Radley could fucking shove his ideas up his arse and that he and Jazz would bloody well solve crime together. He added he was Batman and Jazz was Robin. Jazz said it was the wrong way round and they decided to argue about that one later.