by Alan Wade
November 26th, 3.00 pm, Alma Lodge Hotel. Stockport.
The five men sat round a low coffee table, tea, sandwiches and coffee had been served and they were alone in the lounge. Sergeant Lawrence was briefing them and had discussed his interview at the police station and his talk with Alan at the Brown Cow.
“He lives on a road called Sandiway in Bramhall, number 78, a four bedroom detached, it’s quite an affluent area. We’re quite lucky though, because a house nearly opposite, number 73, is for sale and empty. I have spoken with the estate agents and the owners reluctantly accept that we can use the house for observation purposes, but say they may still need to show prospective purchasers around. When I asked how many people they had shown around in the last month it was none, so I don’t think you’ll be disturbed too often.
Major Rock finished his tea and replaced the cup on the table then responded, “Thank you Sergeant, do you think you could escort my three colleagues to this house at the end of our meeting?”
“Yes sir, no problem, now what else do you need to know?”
“We will need to gain access to Johnson’s property, obviously without him knowing, therefore any help to do this would be good.”
“Johnson is a creature of habit sir, he seems to spend a great deal of time in the Brown Cow pub so we could have him watched in there without suspicion, it’s a coppers pub being close to the nick and while Johnson’s in there you could do your business at 78 Sandiway.”
“Good Sergeant, you take my colleagues to Sandiway and then meet me at the Brown Cow, I’ll need directions but I’d like to drive myself there. Say we meet at five pm if that gives you enough time to get to Sandiway and back.
November 26th, 5.00 pm, Brown Cow, Stockport.
Major Rock stood at the bar with Sergeant Lawrence, they both had ordered Robinson’s bitter and the Major placed his pint down on the Formica bar after taking a generous mouthful.
“Is this lady serving us the Jacky who went on holiday with Johnson?”
“No she’s not, it’s a little confusing actually because this barmaid’s called Jacqui also but she’s not the one.”
Lawrence called to her for two more pints and enquired where her companion Jacky was and why she wasn’t working her regular shift. The response startled both men.
“She won’t be back for at least a week Sergeant, haven’t you heard she’s gone on holiday with Alan again, I thought all the regulars knew; they went yesterday.”
“Bloody Hell,” hissed the Major, “I’ve missed him by a bloody day.”
Lawrence turned to him, “It’s OK sir, it’s OK, we know he’ll come back so let’s just see if we can find out where he’s gone.”
“Sorry Sergeant, carry on,” whispered Rock.
Jacqui had now served the two pints and given Lawrence his change.
“Take one for yourself Jacqui.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you know where they’ve gone on holiday,” enquired the sergeant.
“All I know is they were flying to Venice and then I think she mentioned going on a cruise, but I don’t know where to. Lucky Jacky eh, going cruising with her beau!”
“What do you mean ‘beau’,” interrupted the Major.
“Well they’re an item now aren’t they, this is the second time they’ve been away together and she bought a whole load of new clothes for this trip. She might have something special to tell us when they return; you never know what might happen on these romantic cruises do you?” Jacqui gave a knowing wink, smiled at the two men and then left to answer a shout for service from the snug.
Rock turned to Lawrence and whispered, “We need to know where the hell he’s gone because he may be meeting the same group he met in Olu Deniz. If only I’d moved faster I could have been on that bloody boat with him.”
Lawrence wanted to stay and drink in his favourite pub but knew the wise thing to do would be to go back to the station and begin the lengthy task of finding out where Jacky and Alan were cruising. He asked the bar maid Jacqui one last question before departing. “You don’t happen to know where they booked this holiday do you.”
She was pulling a pint of Carlsberg lager for a customer in the snug but turned her head to answer, “I’m sorry I don’t, but it’s probably a local one in Bramhall or Stockport. Sorry I can’t help you.” She flipped the lager pump off and took the pint to the snug then came around the bar to the till and on passing the sergeant she asked, “you seem very interested in her, what’s she been up to?”
“Oh nothing love, it’s nothing to trouble yourself about, we’re going now, see you again soon.”
November 27th, Stockport Police HQ, Chief Inspector Burrows’ office.
The Chief Inspector read from a sheet of paper, “We now have the details of the cruise as follows: Alan Johnson and Jacky James boarded the Costa cruise ship Victoria on November the 25th in Venice. The ship departed Venice at 18.00 on the 25th heading towards Bari on the heel of Italy. It left Bari at 18.00 on the 26th sailing for Katakolon in Greece, which it will depart at 18.00 on the 27th.” The Inspector looked up at his audience of the Major, his colleagues from SBCT11 and Sergeant Lawrence to confirm they were listening then continued, “That’s today gentlemen. On the 28th it will cruise into Santorini, leaving there at 13.30 and then cruise onward to Mykonos. On the 29th it will cruise into the Greek island of Rhodes and stay there for the day leaving at 18.00. On the 30th it will cruise toward Dubrovnik in Croatia and finally cruise back to Venice on the 1st of December.” He put down the paper and continued, “Well gentlemen, what do you think?”
“Johnson’s got a damn good brain in his head, he could meet his colleagues anywhere on that trip; he’s so close to the Middle East. Those Greek islands or even Dubrovnik could be travelled to easily from Turkey or Syria.”
“I agree Major, so what do we do?”
“We have only two options really, we either board the ship or wait for their return, however boarding the ship may be a waste of time. Johnson may have already met his group so the journey would be fruitless and if he hasn’t already met them we may be seen and make him change his plans,” stated the Major; then growled, “shit gentlemen, shit; I suppose we have to wait. Wait and see. God, what an opportunity we may have missed.”
“Sir, this at least gives us a good opportunity to search Johnson’s house and set up surveillance equipment without being disturbed,” declared Lawrence.
“Yes it is, but I think that will be a job for you and my colleagues. I think my task is to get aboard that ship. I may at least be able to observe what he does in Rhodes and Dubrovnik and even on the ship.” Rock looked at his audience then at Lawrence and continued, “you wait for my return and prepare the ground here, your task will be to plan the search and surveillance operation of 78 Sandiway. The Sergeant nodded agreement and the meeting came to a close.
November 28th, 78 Sandiway, Bramhall.
Access to Johnson’s house was achieved ensuring no tell tale signs of entry were left, and the alarm system was disabled electronically. A full search of the house was undertaken and listening devices placed in the wall cavities to ensure little chance of discovery. With British Telecom’s help both phones and computer email was able to be accessed at will and at 73 Sandiway listening and recording equipment was installed along with day and night vision movement sensing systems.
The result of the home search revealed little and talks with Johnson’s bank and credit card companies revealed a normal spending pattern from monies deposited many years ago supplemented by an army pension. Searches of the gardens and his car were fruitless and it was decided the group would be patient and await Johnson’s and Rock’s return on the first of December.
Chapter 8
November 29th, Costa Victoria, Sun Terrace bar.
Jacky drank champagne cocktails, Alan lager. They sat overlooking the sea having left
the island of Mykonos in darkness, but they could still see the twinkling lights slowly disappearing as the Costa Victoria set her overnight course for Rhodes.
She looked well, the sun had caught her white skin and brought out freckles on her nose, upper cheeks and shoulders. Her arms had reddened and were now turning brown, her simple low cut dress hugged her figure, which he observed, hadn’t really changed since they were in Turkey.
“Where the hell does all the food go in her?” he thought, “certainly not to her hips or belly. Perhaps she makes herself sick after each meal.” He chortled then looked down at his own body, especially his stomach and thought that 6 sessions in the gym had done sod all for his pecs. “Old age, everything starts to go south, including your manhood which seems to do a damn sight more looking south than north these days.”
“Alan, Alan,” whispered Jacky.
“Sorry, I was daydreaming love, what do you think of the cruise so far?”
“Fabulous, absolutely fabulous, the food, the service, the bars, restaurants, entertainment, it’s out of this world, I really am very happy and grateful that you brought me.”
He smiled and raised his eyes “How grateful?”
“Jesus, can’t you think of anything else?”
“That’s all I do isn’t it, think about it.”
She took another sip of her cocktail and replied, “Let’s change the subject eh?”
“Yeah OK, what did you think of our last 3 ports of call, Katakolon, Santorini and Mykonos?”
“Well if Bari was a stop for the captain’s bit of stuff then Katakolon must have been for the chief engineer, I wasn’t impressed with that place.”
“Yeah it was small but very pretty, I liked those restaurants along the shore line, and not touristy at all.”
“That’s because tourists wouldn’t want to go.”
“OK, but I liked it.”
“Maybe you’re getting old.”
“Thanks, now what about Santorini?”
“Now that is some place. The cable car, the views, the shops, those cobbled streets, the atmosphere and the donkeys coming down those steps, out of this world. If I were a bloke I’d take a girl like me to Santorini, I’m sure she’d come up with the goods in a place like that.”
“Well you didn’t love, all you did was shop.”
“I needed more time, more time.”
“We’d have missed the bloody boat then wouldn’t we?” he growled.
“Yeah but it would have been worth it eh? They say they live on the edge in Santorini , every day there’s an earth tremor, perhaps you’d have felt the earth move more than once,” she teased.
“Oh yeah, just once would be enough at the moment.” He lifted his pint and quaffed the remains as a waitress, ever vigilant, approached. Two more drinks were ordered then he leaned forward close to Jacky and whispered, “tomorrow I need some time alone, not long, maybe a couple of hours, so I would be very grateful if you were to accompany me to Rhodes; but then do a damn good shop and after Rhodes I’ll be all yours again.”
“It’ll cost you,” she snapped.
“What’s new?”
“This is so different from Turkey, there you screwed me then paid hardly any attention to me at all after that. That sort of thing can really get to a girl you know, I mean maybe you didn’t like it. Wasn’t I good enough?” she asked.
“I was busy love, it’s that simple, I was busy. But I’m not as busy this time so after a couple of hours tomorrow you’ve got me all to yourself; the devoted boyfriend,” he replied.
November 30th, Socratous Garden Restaurant, Rhodes Town.
The system of using adverts placed in the Manchester Evening News and the London Evening Standard had worked well. Shan had received the information and a runner had been dispatched through Iraq into Turkey to inform Onar of the intended meeting.
Alan and Jacky left the ship at 10.40 and walked around the busy port to a small beach area. Here they parted company and he crossed the road and entered the old city of Rhodes by the Agekaterinis Mariners’ Gate. A quick left then right took him into Socratous Street where he found the garden bar of the restaurant. It was a perfect spot for a meeting with many trees and shrubs offering privacy at the tables. He saw both Shan and Onar sitting in a corner away from others including the bar staff and approached them.
“Good morning gentlemen, I see you’ve already ordered tea; I’ll have a beer if you don’t mind; good to see you both again.” He looked around the terraces to confirm they were alone and would not be overheard, he shook hands with his colleagues then sat down with them.
“Onar, can I start with you, how is our factory and its production?”
Onar leaned slightly forward, “all is well, the staff are working very hard and are loyal since we raised their wages. The material is being transported from the ship in the divers’ tanks as we agreed. We have received the outers from the UK and have now gained permission to export under the new name. LOLTS has also been accepted as an importable product in the UK, so we are ready to go with shipping the first 4 months of non tampered product.”
“Excellent, excellent,” exclaimed Alan, “I would now like you to begin as agreed and deliver the product into the UK from December this year, for four months until the end of March next year. I have agreed with over one hundred companies in the UK for each to receive samples of the whole range of our products. Therefore I think you will need to manufacture at least one hundred tons a month and have this imported into the UK. Once cleared through customs it will go to this distribution company in Kent,” He passed Onar the name and address of the company then continued, “they will send it out to the retailers. Can you manufacture that much product over those 4 months?”
“Yes, easily but I will need cash to pay for raw material, wages, transport etc.”
Alan looked at Shan, “this is where you come in again my friend. This is the second large call for money and it would be wisest to move it all through Turkey so that the LOLTS company can pay everything including the costs for imports and distribution in the UK.”
Shan nodded, “as you know gentlemen you have unlimited resources at your disposal. What about you Alan, do you need more funds?”
“I need some petty cash right now to fund the next few months but only a few thousand.”
“We don’t want you to be seen to be living beyond your means do we?” smiled Shan.
He smiled and downed his second beer. “I’ll try not to, at least not yet Shan, but soon, very soon, you will owe me a great deal.”
“Let’s hope so,” he nodded.
Alan Turned to Onar, “have you been successful with the mix using the WMD?”
“It works well, it is so robust it is virtually impossible to destroy and once mixed is undetectable without equipment. The only risk is that my staff may become contaminated while filling the product, but I have introduced protective clothing, masks and wash down procedures to reduce the risk and they have been accepted and are now being used. Then of course they may be detected when entering the UK.”
“That’s a risk we’ll have to take because I want you to mix the product such that 10% of it includes the WMD. I am estimating that 30 UK companies will take the full product range and order approximately 100 tons each. That means we need to produce and import 3000 tons. Can this be done Onar?”
“I think the factory has a safety permit to manufacture up to 500 tons a month so if I can get the raw material I see no reason why we will fail. But how will I know when to begin?”
“I think we have to agree that now” said Alan, “I think you should increase production from April onward. Can you still get hold of a UK Daily Mail?”
“Yes they come regularly, of course they’re a day out of date.”
“That’s OK, a day won’t matter. I will place an ad in the Daily Mail’s Monday edition only.
The first Monday of April, then May then each following month. If you are to cease or reduce production, the advert will read, ‘UK Public Company requires 200 staff to work on a new project from home. Large and local territories specified. Of course the 200 will refer to the reduced tonnage. If the advertised number reduces to 10 then cease production. Do you understand Onar?”
“I understand.”
“Good, now let’s concentrate on the WMD product. How quickly can you mix the raw material and the WMD? Can you, for instance, have 400 tons ready for April?”
“That is not a problem because the proportion of WMD to the total tonnage is minute, but how much would you require me to mix from May onward?”
“There will always be a risk of detection by UK customs so I think we should change our initial thoughts and reduce the mixed product to a maximum of 50% of the total exported. But that’s still a lot of tonnage, do you think it can be done,” enquired Alan.
“It’s not the tonnage of mix, so much as the amount of WMD per ton.”
“Do we have enough?” he asked.
“There’s enough WMD in that one container to kill half the population of Europe, so I think we’ve enough.”
“And of course we have access to other containers should you need them,” interrupted Shan.
“So I am sure we’ve enough,” confirmed Onar who then continued, “if you need to know the detail I mix about one cylinder per 50 ton of product so I will need a lot more cylinders. I already have 4 cylinders available, so it means just a few more visits to the ship over the next 6 months.”