by Alan Wade
Well get on to the respective police stations and tell them we want answers now,” growled the Major.
“Yes sir, but it’s only seven days since we asked them for their help.”
“This is high priority, tell them to get their fingers out and interview these people.”
Lawrence rose to leave, “Yes sir, I’ll get on to it straight away,” he then turned and approached the door.
“Sergeant, I know you’re not to blame for Johnson’s disappearance,” acquiesced the Major.
The Sergeant smiled, “Thanks sir, but I still feel bloody foolish, he’s obviously lulled us into a false sense of security and then just walked off.”
“Have we received any reports yet from our local enquiries?”
“Yes sir, Johnson was not seen at the Bus or Railway Stations, however he could have hopped into a taxi, had a car waiting somewhere else, hired a car or just walked, he may even still be local, staying with Jacky for example.”
“Good points, assign one of our men to shadow Jacky, get his house and car searched again and check out Taxi firms, Car Hire etcetera,” ordered Rock.
January 20th, 15.10, Railway Station Car Park, Leeds.
Alan Johnson drove the Fiesta to the barrier and pressed the button to gain his ticket and raise the barrier. He would park the car in the covered basement area, it would give him some extra hours, even days, but he knew the police would eventually trace his movements to the car hire company and then eventually trace the car.
He walked to the station, bought a Leeds to York return from the automatic ticket machines with cash and waited on the platform for the 15.25 to Scarborough. He was sure all police forces would eventually be requested to look for him but was fairly confident he had at least today before they would be on full alert.
The train pulled into York station and by 16.25 Alan Walsh was once again negotiating with Theresa the office manageress for 5 days office accommodation plus computer and typing cover. He set out his plans for the next few days which were to telephone, email and fax the 80 companies who in December had received the free sample products. Only then would he know if his plans might work. By 17.15 he had completed his work plan for the next few days. He locked his office and once again walked from inside the castle walls towards the Ivy, hoping Tony would have a room for him.
He walked past the brown bundle of fur lying by the door and turned into the bar.
“Hello Tony, the wanderer returns.”
Tony looked up from his chair, his face turning into an instant smile, “Alan, what the hell are you doing here?”
Alan grasped Tony’s outstretched hand and held it in a firm grip, “I hope you’ve got a vacant room for an old friend.”
“For you, I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“I know it’s an unannounced arrival, so I will understand if you’re full.”
“Full, full in January, you must be joking, the bloody place is like the Marie Celeste. Of course you can stay, you can have the bridal suite if you want.”
“No thanks,” he laughed, finally releasing Tony’s hand, “I’ll have my usual room if I can and I would like to pay the usual rate if that’s OK.”
“That’s OK with me, but you might not want to stay too long this time,” his manner turned serious and his face hardened.
He looked around and then at Tony, “What’s happened?”
Tony beckoned him to the bar and began to pull two pints of Sam Smiths.
“I’ve had a visit from the local plod, they seemed very interested in you and wanted to know when I last saw you.”
Alan took his pint and looked down into the creamy froth, “Oh I see, and what did you tell them?”
“Very little really, I asked them what it was all about and they said it was an enquiry for another police department.”
“So?”
“So I told them you had been here in June and December and that you were a friend who often came to stay mainly because you liked horse racing.”
He nodded, “When was this?”
“Yesterday, just yesterday, the guy said he’d write up a report and send it off but it would be a couple of days before he’d do it because he had quite a workload. He said he’d keep in touch.”
“I bet he will,” he responded and took a long drink of his beer, quaffing nearly half a pint of bitter; then he downed his glass and continued; “they will be back my friend.”
“Let ‘em come, I’ve nothing to hide, but I wish you’d tell me what this is all about.”
“Don’t be silly, just trust me, did they ask to see the room where I stayed?”
“No, they didn’t go further than this room.”
“Good,” he said and looked intently at Tony, “if you want me to move out I will.”
“Not on your life, you’re my friend, you stay here as my guest until I say otherwise.”
He smiled back. “Thanks Tony,” then drank the rest of his pint and ordered two more before continuing, “It’s probably best we don’t go out tonight, I’ve a lot of things to do and I’ll need a clear head tomorrow.”
“That’s OK by me, let’s stay in and have dinner and a few pints here; it’s roast pork tonight, will that be OK?”
“Yes, that’ll be nice, we’ll finish these two pints then I’ll go to my room for a kip and see you down here at eight.”
“Eight o’clock it is then for dinner, cheers!”
He sat in his room, it was seven pm and his thoughts were on the task ahead. He would need at least two days if not three or four to finalise the work in the office; knowing that once it was done there would be no further need for his alias or the office. If he could work these days without being discovered or arrested the plan would be complete as far as York was concerned. But he would have to see Shan again at the races in June.
January 21st, Ivy Hotel, York.
Alan dressed in black shoes, blue trousers a blue shirt, matching tie and blue blazer. He ate 2 poached eggs for breakfast and drank his usual black unsweetened tea. He thanked Tony as he left, stating that he might not see him for a couple of days, but would return. He stood at the door of the Ivy, taking in the surroundings, looking at each building, each parked car and the people on the street.
After two or three minutes he set off to walk and turned towards the city and the castle walls. At Micklegate Bar he turned left towards the station but detoured down a narrow road towards a car park. As the road turned into the car park he turned right again and entered a small tunnel under the city walls which would bring him out near the station. At the other end of the tunnel and slightly back from the pavement he sat on a bench and watched the world go by. Nobody who exited the tunnel seemed to give him a second glance. After 5 minutes he arose, turned toward the city and walked toward the river. He made two further stops and observations to see if he was being followed before entering the foyer of the Ibis Hotel.
“Good morning, I need a room for this evening, do you have any vacancies please miss?”
The young lady smiled and then turned her attention to the computer screen. After much clicking of keys and mumbles about slow computers she confirmed a room was available. He presented a business card and said he would pay the £80 in cash for the room.
“Yes Mr Walsh” said the lady as she confirmed the room and gave him a receipt for payment and a room number which would be vacant at 2.00 pm. He thanked her and left the hotel turning right then left after 50 yards, then along the narrow river bank walk, again checking regularly that he wasn’t being followed. At 9.15 am he entered his rented office, said good morning to Theresa and set about contacting the 80 potential customers. His first call was Keith Stubbs of Pickering.
“Hello Mr Stubbs, this is Alan Walsh of Lolts, did you receive our samples?”
“Yes I did and they’re very good. We let them off on Chris
tmas Day and they were quite spectacular, just as good as any we have used before.”
“Good. I’m glad you like them, would you be interested in taking shipments from us for this year’s event?”
“Only if the price is right and you can guarantee delivery this year and for the next three years.”
“As you know we will guarantee delivery for three years at a fixed price which is now 30% less than you will pay for similar fireworks even from the Chinese.”
“OK, I will take 100 tonnes this year rising to 150 next year if it all works out.”
“Thank you Mr Stubbs, you do know our terms and conditions of payment which mean that if you take the fireworks in April or May you will not have to pay until the end of August or early September by which time you will have sold them on to your customers.”
“It all sounds good to me.”
“Good, then I will fax a contract for you to sign and if you can send it back to me I will put the wheels in motion for delivery. As you know, Turkey is trying to join the EU and bolster its world wide trade, therefore these deals are very good at the moment but will not last forever, in which case you may wish to sign up now for three years at the current rates.”
“Send me the forms. I promise I’ll sign for a year but I’ll have to think about the three year deal.”
“Thank you Mr Stubbs, I’ll fax it to you straight away.”
He replaced the receiver, smiled and thought, “One down, seventy nine to go.”
He faxed the form and looked at his watch. The transaction had taken 10 minutes and meant he could do five per hour for six hours at best. Therefore he needed at least three days without interruption from the police, four days if possible.
January 22nd, Stockport Police Station.
Sergeant Lawrence rushed into Major Rock’s office waving two pieces of paper and exclaimed, “We’ve got him sir, we know where the bugger is.”
He had Rock’s attention immediately, “where Sergeant, where?”
“His car’s in Leeds but the bugger’s in York staying at the Ivy Hotel, which is owned by an ex-SAS friend. We received a report from the York police that Johnson had stayed there before in June and December last year so I put a call in to the Ivy and asked if I could speak to Mr Alan Johnson. Some woman said he had gone out for the day but would be back around six pm. If my hunch is correct this is our Mr Alan Johnson, sir.”
“Good work Sergeant,” Rock jumped to his feet, “get the car to the front, I need the driver plus one other and you to accompany me. Bring overnight bags, we’ll leave in 30 minutes.”
He dialled SBCT headquarters and spoke with Commander Bagshaw. “We’ve located him sir, staying in York with an ex-SAS colleague. I want permission to go there and escort him back to Stockport for further interrogation with regard to the Olu Deniz murder. I expect to detain him for up to 48 hours and even 7 days.”
“As you wish Major, you know the law as well as I do.”
Rock replaced the receiver and gathered his notes and overnight bag for the drive to York.
It was decided the best plan would be to try to tail Johnson to see where he went and who he met. Therefore the Ivy would be watched by two officers while Rock and Lawrence liaised with the York police to see if more man power could be used to help in the shadowing operation.
By 3.30 pm two officers were positioned close to the Ivy Hotel, one at the front and one at the rear entrance and Rock accompanied by Lawrence was in a meeting with Chief Inspector Petchey.
“Chief Inspector, we believe the man we are looking for is responsible for one murder in Turkey and for plotting terrorist activities in the UK. He is English, white, average height, weight and age. He is ex-SAS and trained in many skills, one of which is the ability to disappear at will without trace. Therefore I would like your staff to help us locate him, but not apprehend him. I need to know why he is here, what he’s doing and who he contacts.”
“Major, like all police forces we are busy, but we will endeavour to find your man; we have his photograph and my men have the local knowledge required to hunt this man down. How long do you think he will be here for?”
The Major shook his head, “I don’t know, I really don’t know, but the last time he disappeared was for about nine days so it might be the same this time.”
“Well, I can certainly give you some resource for that length of time.”
“Thank you, it’s greatly appreciated. Please inform your colleagues not to apprehend him. We want to know why he’s here and who he meets.”
“I understand,” the Chief Inspector rose to go, “now I need to put this in motion, so if that’s all let’s close the meeting.”
The Major and Sergeant rose, shook hands and thanked him, they left the Police Station and went to relieve their colleagues at the Ivy.
The four officers had been booked into the York Hilton Hotel and by 7.30 pm Rock and Lawrence were in a meeting room in the hotel.
“He’s still not returned, Sergeant, I think we should telephone the Ivy and ask to speak to Tony Broadhead, what do you think?”
“I agree, we can say we are from the York Constabulary and want to speak to Johnson and ask when he will be back.”
“Good, please call him now.”
Tony Broadhead was told by Pat, his waitress and Girl Friday that he had a telephone call; he picked up the receiver and said,
“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Good evening, is that Tony Broadhead?”
“Yes it is.”
“My name is Sergeant Lawrence of the York Constabulary, you may recall we visited you recently regarding a man called Alan Johnson and we believe he’s staying with you now.”
“Yes he is, but he’s not here at the moment, he hasn’t come back since this morning.”
“I see; does he often work late when he’s staying with you?”
“Who mentioned work, I’ve no idea what he does or where he goes.”
“Sorry sir, I assumed that if he was out all day he’d be at work.”
“Well, he may be, I don’t know, but usually he’s in by now.”
“Thank you Mr Broadhead, I’m sure we will be talking with you again soon.”
Lawrence replaced the receiver which rang immediately. He picked it up and listened for a moment nodding his head then replied, “OK Tom, just a minute.” He moved the receiver from his mouth and looked at the Major, “It’s Tom sir, the one on duty at the Ivy, asking for a replacement.”
He nodded and replied, “Get onto the local police and see if they can muster up two staff to replace ours and then tell Tom and Barry to make their way here.”
“Yes sir.”
By 8.00 pm they had been replaced by the York police who would mount an all night vigil to no avail. Alan Johnson did not return to the Ivy on January the 22nd.
January 23rd, Ibis Hotel, York.
Alan Walsh approached the reception at one of the busiest times of day, after a 5 minute wait it was his turn to check out.
“Good morning sir,” said the lady, taking and looking at his room key, “are you checking out?”
“I only asked for one night, but now I find I need another, will it be possible to stay in my room again for tonight?” He immediately offered the cash to pay for the second night and the receptionist said she would check availability. Some moments later she was counting the money having confirmed that Mr Walsh was OK for a second night. He left the hotel with the key, aware the receptionist had hardly given him a second glance. If the police checked this hotel, which he thought would be inevitable, the chances of anyone recognising the relaxed Alan Johnson in casual wear and the smartly dressed businessman Alan Walsh, as the same person were slim. Again he took the narrow winding route via the river to the office, and after checking at least three times that he was not being followed he entered the rented offic
e. He bade, “Good Morning,” to Theresa and received a smile and a, “Good Morning Mr Walsh,” in reply before setting about his task for the second day.
Day one had been very productive with 28 calls made and 16 acceptances of contracts totalling hundreds of tonnes of fireworks. That amount alone would cause chaos and death on a major scale. However, with some fireworks containing no anthrax, he knew that for his mission to be truly effective the project required two to three times more tonnage to be bought.
He set about day two as day one, telephoning, emailing then getting contracts typed and faxed. He did not venture out, drank coffee from the kitchen and bought a sandwich from the sandwich lady at reception. By the evening of Day Two he had secured a further 18 acceptances of contracts totalling many more hundreds of tonnes of fireworks.
At 5.30 pm he left the office, purposefully in the rush hour, walked to his hotel, went straight to his room, exercised, showered, then slept for two hours. At 9.00 pm he rang for room service, ordering a steak and chips and a bottle of red wine, purposefully avoiding the lamb chops which were the special of the day. When they arrived he opened the door and went immediately into the bathroom wearing only a towel. The waiter, catching barely a glimpse of him placed the tray on the small room table and left, hearing a voice from the bathroom saying, “many thanks, the money for the meal is on the table, please take it.”
He then moved out of the bathroom, double locked the hotel room door and sat down to his steak, chips and red wine. He was asleep by 11.00 pm.
January 23rd, York Hilton Hotel.
The four officers met in the York Hilton to discuss their tactics for the day. The all night reconnaissance at the Ivy proved just one thing; that Johnson did not return to his room that night.
“It could be a woman,” stated Tom.
“Could be,” chuckled Sergeant Lawrence, “all this time we think we’re hunting a terrorist and he’s just having it off with some tart in York.”
“Sergeant,” growled Major Rock.
“Sorry sir, but it could be true.”