“Wait, is that the robbery that they ended up making a Jason Stratham movie about? The one where they robbed a place just to hide some pictures of the royal family?” I asked, and Mrs. Michaels turned to me.
“Oh yes, that was it,” she said with a small smile. “Although by all accounts from those of us who were around at the time, the film took significant liberties when it came to the facts. They did get that one right though; compromising pictures of Princess Margaret were in fact the real reason that robbery happened.”
I shook my head slightly. These were events movies had been made from, and my eighty-something year old landlady knew all about them. Evidently there was much more to Mrs. Michaels than I could have ever imagined.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more useful to you,” Mrs. Michaels said. “I would tell you who they were if I knew.”
“Thank you anyway,” Violet said to her. “The fact that you have heard nothing is telling in and of itself.”
“I’ll put the feelers out to some of my contacts all the same,” she replied. “You never know what might come up.”
“Thank you,” Violet replied. “But do not go to too much trouble on my behalf. These men are not only robbers, they are murderers as well. So far, they have killed three people, and they have attempted once to kill me. I do not doubt they will make another attempt on both my life and Cassie’s, so she is staying at my house for a few days.”
“Violet, you do realize I didn’t get well into my eighties without a little bit of sense about me, do you not? And should my decision to meddle in your affairs result in my death, well, I’ve had a good, long life and we’ve all got to go sometime.”
“If you die, you cannot supply me with any more information in the future, so I would greatly appreciate it if you did your best to remain on this earth all the same,” Violet replied.
“Well, how can I deny you after such an emotional outburst?” Mrs. Michaels replied, and I laughed.
“Now, if you will excuse us, Cassie and I are now on a little bit of a timetable, as we need to find out the identity of these men–well, one of them at least–before he succeeds in killing us.”
“Oh don’t pretend like he even has a chance of succeeding,” Mrs. Michaels replied. “Though I’d be willing to wager that this will be the most difficult robbery you’ve ever had to solve.”
“We will see,” Violet said. “I hope not, personally. I had one take me three years before I finally caught the perpetrator, and I would rather not have to actively watch for an assassin for that long this time.”
“All the best, anyway. Let me know what you find out,” Mrs. Michaels said as she led us to the door. “And Cassie, if you would ever like to hear some of the stories of my past, please feel free to come up anytime, and let it be known that I am very much a fan of those biscuits you made that one time, and of merlot,” she added with a wink.
“I will absolutely come by soon then,” I replied, and I meant it. Especially if it meant sharing a batch of cookies with Mrs. Michaels. Right now, however, assassin or not, there was nothing I wanted to know about more than her past after this conversation. I felt like my head was still spinning, and it was nothing to do with the alcohol I’d just ingested, even though it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet.
Chapter 14
“Right, you all have your assignments. Off you go. Let’s get these men,” DCI Williams said to the crowd of thirty-odd police officers of varying rank in front of him at Paddington Green police station as Violet and I walked into the room. I almost did a double-take when I saw him; he looked like he’d aged about five years since I saw him last, about twenty-four hours ago.
As the group of officers dispersed, mostly in small groups, chatting to one another about their assignments for the day, DCI Williams spotted us, and the relief on his face was immediately apparent. Bags under his eyes and what appeared to be an extra line of wrinkles and a few more greying hairs made it obvious that this case was taking its toll on him.
“Thank God,” he said when he saw Violet, any semblance of official self-confidence completely gone. This was a man who was obviously desperate. “Please tell me you got a chance to look at the videos I sent you.”
“It is your lucky day,” Violet replied. “One of the men you seek also happens to be the murderer I am after. I did look at your videos.”
“And do you know who did it?”
“Unfortunately, even I am unable to tell so far. However, I can tell you that one of the men you are looking for has a small port wine birthmark on the back of his neck.”
“I’ll make sure that goes out in the next internal release in an hour,” DCI Williams said, typing furiously into his phone.
“I am here because I need access to all of your files on the previous robberies, and I want to go to the scene of the most recent theft,” Violet announced.
DCI Williams didn’t protest at all, he just nodded. “Sure, whatever you need. Let me grab you those files.”
About two minutes later Violet and I were sitting at his desk, going through the files on the other two robberies committed by the Terrible Trio. Violet was going through their first robbery, a daylight smash-and-grab, while I read about the second robbery, in which the trio of thieves managed to hijack a truck carrying over ten million pounds worth of uncut diamonds heading for a cargo plane going to Dubai. It was one of the largest diamond heists in UK history.
The whole story was really quite incredible. The diamonds were scheduled to travel on a British Airways flight from Heathrow to Dubai, in the cargo hold. The three men were able to fake credentials to get onto the airport tarmac and hijack another truck. They caught up to the truck carrying the diamonds and forced the men driving the truck out at gunpoint. What happened afterwards is still a mystery: the truck never made its way back onto security camera screens, but was eventually found abandoned on the grounds of Heathrow Airport, the uncut diamonds gone, and no sign of the three men who had stolen them.
There was surprisingly little security camera footage of the men. Like in all their thefts, they seemed to have mastered the art of avoiding security cameras wherever possible, and the few camera images there were simply showed men with caps covering their faces, heads down away from the cameras, wearing British Airways uniforms.
It was strange, looking at the image of a man I knew had broken into Violet’s home and sabotaged her step to make her death look like an accident. I shivered, knowing how easily I could have been the one going up the stairs in her house as well.
I shook my head as I read through the statements from the men driving the truck which had been stolen. By the time they were hijacked, the three men had put on masks, so their faces weren’t seen. They barked out single words, rather than sentences, presumably to make it more difficult to recognize their voices, and they knocked the men unconscious almost immediately and placed them in the truck they had taken on the tarmac to maximize the amount of time they would have to get away without anyone noticing anything.
I had to admit, it seemed like an almost perfectly planned crime. And I supposed in a way it was, seeing as the men hadn’t been caught, and the diamonds were all in the wind.
As Violet let out a grunt of frustration, I figured that the first robbery left equally few clues.
“Not as easy as you expected to solve this?” I asked Violet, passing her over the file I’d just finished reading. After all, I wasn’t getting any new information from it.
“I must admit, these men are good. They have the best qualities for a group of robbers: they are patient, and they are organized. It took them months before they managed to get the algorithm by killing Amelia Waters. I imagine that for whatever reason they were not able to get it when they killed the first two students, but they did not act in haste. They waited until they had the algorithm to commit the third robbery, and they did so swiftly and successfully. The details are different but even the first robbery was the same. It was organized. The men had obviously put though
t into it. The only similarity between all of the crimes is that diamonds are the target.”
“So how are you going to solve it? Not to give you a spoiler alert or anything, but the second robbery is pretty much the same as the most recent one: as far as I can tell there’s nothing in the file that can help us find the suspects.”
“There is never nothing,” Violet said with a small smile as she opened the file and looked through it. “I do not yet know how we will solve this case. But for now, we continue to read the information we have, and then we go to see where the last robbery took place.”
She motioned for DCI Williams to come over; he had been talking to one of his coworkers in the corner while Violet had commandeered his desk for her investigations.
“I want to see the location of the theft,” she said, and DCI Williams nodded.
“Of course. Come with me, I’ll drive you there.”
As we walked past the multitude of cops, I saw more than a few of them giving both of us nasty looks. Violet wasn’t exactly one of the cops’ favorite people in London; she had a tendency to think most of them were idiots, and they weren’t exactly appreciative of the fact that she pointed it out on a regular basis.
“What’s she doing here, doesn’t Williams think we can handle this?” I heard one man ask the woman next to him.
“Right,” DCI Williams said suddenly, loudly, stopping in the middle of the room. He turned to face the officers that were still around. “Those of you who know me know that Violet Despuis and I get along well enough. And yes, I have brought her in on this investigation. The fact is, these men have committed three successful robberies, show no intent to stop, and we’re not getting anywhere fast. So yes, I’ve brought in an outsider. No matter what you think of her, she knows how to do the job, and she does it pretty well. If I hear any complaining about the fact that she’s helping us solve this crime, you can consider yourself off this task force. Because quite frankly, none of you should be complaining that I’m doing what I have to do to solve this case. Got it?”
A low grumbling murmur of reluctant assent passed through the crowd. DCI Williams turned and we continued to leave the room. I smiled to myself; I knew all too well that DCI Williams’ announcement wouldn’t have changed anyone’s opinion about Violet, but might just have changed how they acted in front of her with the boss around.
“You must have made a good impression somewhere, to now be in charge of an entire task force on your own,” Violet told DCI Williams as he motioned for us to get into an unmarked police car, a brand new BMW 3-series.
“Yes, I think so,” DCI Williams confirmed. “In fact, I believe if I manage to solve this case I’ll be up for a promotion to superintendent soon.”
“Ah, then I believe congratulations are in order! I am certain you will be able to crack this case.”
For a man who should have been thrilled about an upcoming promotion, DCI Williams certainly didn’t act like it. Instead of accepting Violet’s congratulations, he sighed. “Do I really deserve it, though? I mean, let’s be honest: a lot of the high profile cases I’ve solved have been thanks to you. I never would have solved so many of my cases without you. There was that serial killer a few years back, and then the man who tried to fake his own death for the insurance money. And of course, that quadruple murder just this year, and that bombing in Belgravia just after that. I got the credit for it, but it was really thanks to you that they got solved at all.”
“You do not give yourself enough credit,” Violet replied. “I have no illusions about myself and my methods: I am not always an easy person to get along with, particularly not with those of limited intelligence, which, quite frankly, describes a large portion of the Metropolitan Police Service. However, despite this, unlike your peers you have recognized that I am still able to bring value to your cases, and you work with me all the same. There is something to be said for recognizing someone who is superior to you and using their work in order to further a common goal. And the fact that you have been able to do that is why you are being considered for the promotion, whether it is because of my own superior investigative skills or not.”
“Wow, that’s the closest thing to a compliment I think you’ve ever given him!” I exclaimed, and DCI Williams laughed as he pulled the car away from the curb.
“While there was a bit of self-congratulation in that speech, I understand your point,” he said. “Thank you.”
“There was no self-congratulation at all, only fact,” Violet replied as we sped through central London to Oxford Street, and I hid a smile.
Chapter 15
A few minutes later we found ourselves driving down one of the most glamorous shopping streets in all of London. To our left was the huge Selfridges department store, whose whitewashed walls were lined with Corinthian columns built into the walls while flags from around the world flittered in the light wind above the building.
As DCI Williams deftly drove around red double decker busses and small black taxi cabs, he parked on the right-hand side of the street, where flagship stores lined the street level as shoppers meandered slowly through the crowds, savoring not only their purchases, but the entire shopping experience.
It being central London, there were absolutely no parking spots nearby, so DCI Williams parked the car in a “no parking” zone on a side street across from the French Connection flagship store, putting police ID on the dashboard so it wouldn’t get towed.
Leading us across the street, we made our way to a shop that was small, but obviously high class. The window advertised them as being a dealer of Patek Philippe watches, and other high-end jewellery. If it weren’t for the fact that the shop had been in the news every day since the robbery, one would be hard-pressed to know a robbery had even taken place.
The three of us made our way up to the white-walled exterior, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and DCI Williams opened the door to allow us to make our way inside.
Violet stayed outside for a few moments longer, looking at the exterior of the building while the two of us entered. There were three customers in the store: a man in a business suit who looked harried while being shown women’s watches–I suspected he’d forgotten an important anniversary and was now making up for it, a well-dressed woman sitting on a stool while examining stones offered to her by a short, nervous-looking man, and a third man who looked at the small display of watches while waiting his turn to be served.
The man showing the watches looked up and saw DCI Williams enter, with me behind him, and I immediately noticed the displeasure in his face. I wasn’t sure if it was because we obviously weren’t customers–although I didn’t think I was dressed that badly–or because he was tired of having the police around all the time. As he excused himself and motioned for us to come over to a corner of the store, just as Violet entered and joined us, I discovered it was the latter.
“How much longer are you people going to harass me?” he asked. “I understand you’ve got a job to do, but so do I, and having the police about every other day isn’t good for business.” Just then, the man who had been patiently looking at the display left the store, and the store’s owner motioned toward the door. “See? You’re driving away my customers.”
“Simon, I understand your frustration, but we have a job to do. We’re trying to recover your diamonds that were stolen.”
“Recover? Ha. I know just as well as everyone else that those diamonds are lost forever. You haven’t caught the Terrible Trio yet, and I saw the security footage as well: there’s nothing there that will help you find them.”
“Apart from the fact that one of the men has an old shoulder injury, you must mean,” Violet said coldly. “You are a jeweller. I do not pretend to tell you which diamond to recommend to someone, you should not pretend to tell us what can and cannot be gleaned from evidence.”
The owner, Simon, looked over at Violet with dislike. “And who is this?”
“This is Violet Despuis, you might have heard of her. She’
s helping with the investigation.”
“You’re the one who put that newspaper owner’s kid in jail,” Simon replied.
“Technically it was the Crown Prosecutor who did that, although I was instrumental in gathering the evidence to allow him to do it, yes,” Violet replied.
Simon nodded. “Fine. Look around, do what you want. Here’s the key to the back room,” he said, handing Violet a set of keys. “I’m going back to my customer. Try not to be too intrusive.”
Violet smiled. “He is not going to like what I am about to do next. Please, go into the back area, and start a timer exactly thirty seconds after the door closes behind you. I want to time how long it will take me to get in.”
“All right,” DCI Williams said, obviously not completely sold on the fact that this was a good idea. He took the keys from Violet and the two of us went to the thick door at the back, unlocking it and making our way inside.
The back room was spacious, but scattered. A large desk filled the left-hand side of the room, covered with papers. To the right was the safe, I recognized it from the video. It was bolted to the wall behind, four feet tall, with security cameras on the wall above pointing directly toward it.
“All right, time,” DCI Williams said as the door closed behind us, and he looked at the timer on his phone. After thirty seconds, he started it again.
It took just over a minute before Violet opened the door and came inside.
“Sixty-four seconds,” DCI Williams announced, and Violet frowned.
“The men were slightly faster than me,” she replied. “Whoever their lockpick is, he is very good.”
“Is that your yardstick to measure by?” I asked. “Whether or not someone is better than you at picking locks?”
“It is a great measurement tool,” Violet said. “I am without a doubt in the top zero point one percent in the world at this skill. For someone to be even better at it than me is exceptional.”
Strangled in Soho Page 9