The Blood Red Line (A Warren & Jimbo novel)

by Alfie Robins

  ‘Well, that’s what you are, right?’

  ‘I give up, call me what the hell you want … within reason.’

  Warren picked up an already soggy beermat and swiped the beer spills off the table onto the floor. ‘What’s this idea?’

  Powers leaned in across the table. ‘Maybe we can use his daughter as leverage, let us in on the deal.’

  ‘I’m not sure about using a kid,’ Warren told him.

  ‘You trust me?’

  ‘About as far as I could throw you,’ Jimbo told him, then he saw the look on Powers’ face. ‘For fuck’s sake, I was only kidding. You’ve been too long on the dark side, Lieutenant, lost your sense of humour.’

  ‘Sorry, ha ha, very bloody funny. That better?’ He leaned in closer across the table fixed his focus on Jimbo’s eyes and spoke in a low, serious voice. ‘You do realise that I can kill you with one finger?’ This time it was Jimbo’s turn to look worried. ‘Just kidding, Jimbo, just kidding.’

  ‘I’ll get the drinks in,’ Jimbo said sullenly and headed for the bar.

  ‘He’s a good lad, Neil, full of shit at times, but never lets you down once he gets to know you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Greg, I’ve got him sussed, he’s just seeing how far he can go without pushing my button. Tell you what, we could do with more blokes like him.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re not wrong there.’

  With his mind back on the job, Powers asked. ‘How do you think Conway would react to blackmail?’

  ‘Dangerously, very dangerously.’

  ‘The way I see it, is like this, he’d do anything if he thought his daughter was in danger … right?’

  Jimbo came back with the drinks and put them down on the table, he’d obviously been giving Powers’ words some thought. ‘Lieutenant, you were taking the piss – right?’

  ‘Of course I was, I’d have to use two fingers.’

  ‘Twat,’ said Jimbo. They all laughed at Jimbo’s misfortune, even Jimbo.

  ‘Listen up, Jimbo, I’m running an idea past Greg and I’d like your input,’ he said wanting Jimbo to feel a proper part of things.

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘I just asked Greg how he thought Conway would react to blackmail, if he thought his daughter was in danger?’

  ‘He’d go fucking ape shit, bloody mental. All I can say is, I hope he doesn’t find out that I’m involved in any of this. Are you thinking of taking him down?’

  Powers looked towards Warren and raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s something Greg and I’ll have to discuss?’

  ‘First, let’s hear what you have in mind?’

  ‘Kidnap …’

  ‘Oh, no, you can’t kidnap a kid, Lieutenant,’ Jimbo protested.

  ‘I’m thinking more along the lines of virtual kidnap.’

  Warren smiled. ‘Virtual kidnap, now I could cope with that.’

  Jimbo sat shaking his head. ‘Well, I haven’t got a fucking idea what the hell you’re on about,’ he sat back in his seat, arms folded across his chest. ‘Go on then, explain.’

  Warren was also keen to hear more.

  ‘It’s simple, Jimbo, as long as he thinks she’s been kidnapped, that’s all the ammunition we’d need.’

  ‘Ah, I get you, she’s already incommunicado …’ Warren and Powers looked at each other. ‘I do know some big words you know. So, as long as things stay that way he thinks the worst.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Your round I think, Lieutenant?’ Jimbo pushed his empty glass across the table.

  ‘You really are pissing him, mate,’ Warren told him when Powers went to the bar.

  ‘Yeah, I know, I just want him to know I’m not one of his lackeys, I’ve no intention of ending up dead down some back alley.’

  ‘I get where you’re coming from, from what I’ve found out he really is kosher, so, just wind you neck in, because I can see us doing a lot more business with him and his organisation. You’ll do that?’

  ‘Greg, if you trust him I’ll give it my best shot, not literally of course.’

  ‘Good to hear it.’

  ‘Still heaving round the bar,’ said Powers when he returned doing a balancing act with three pints of lager between his big hands. ‘That Kirsty, she seems like a nice kid,’ he said as he sat down.

  ‘Whoa, best keep your eyes off her, Neil, not wise to step on Greg’s toes.’

  ‘Neil,’ Powers repeated, throwing his arms in the air, ‘wow, have we made a breakthrough?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Jimbo, picking up his pint. ‘Cheers,’ Jimbo desperately wanted to add Lieutenant.

  Chapter 32

  Warren hammered on the scarred steel plated door of the Ice House Road flat. He heard the numerous locks being opened on the inside. Conway was security conscious, he had made more than a few enemies over the years.

  ‘Morning, Pat,’ Warren said when the fat man eventually opened the door.

  ‘Morning,’ he grunted back.

  ‘Had a bad night?’ Warren asked.

  ‘Just got a lot on my mind,’ he said, as he led the way through to the living room.

  ‘Anything I can help with?’ Warren asked as he sat down on the settee, picking up one of Conway’s boxing magazines and flicking through the pages.

  ‘That daughter of mine, she won’t answer any of my bloody texts, the one she did reply to she told me to stop bothering her.’

  ‘While we’re on the subject, we had a deal, remember? I helped you with Rachell and you find out about the firearms in return?’

  ‘I’ll be honest with you, Ray, with all this shit going on with Rachell I haven’t give it much thought.’

  ‘Yeah, I can understand that, but all the same …’

  ‘For fuck’s sake give over, I’ll put the word out, okay?’

  ‘Don’t have any option do I?’

  Conway dropped down onto his leather armchair. ‘Well, you decided, are you in or not?’

  ‘What’s my percentage?’

  ‘Fuck off, Ray, you’ll be on wages. Don’t worry you’ll be due a bonus if things go to plan.’

  ‘Bit presumptuous, Pat, I haven’t said I’m in yet?’

  ‘Just make your fucking mind up, Ray, I can’t be arsed to play your games today.’

  Conway was truly worried and Warren hadn’t heard from Powers, had it begun?

  ‘Okay, but I use my man.’

  It would be a two-man job as far as Conway was concerned, he wouldn’t be aware of Jimbo, lurking in the background.

  Little did Elvis know, but he was to be the other half of the team.

  ‘Whatever.’

  This, Warren was not expecting, Conway usually supplied the line-up, it was more confirmation on just how worried he was about Rachell.

  ‘Okay, Pat, now that’s sorted, details.’

  ‘There’s a container coming in through Immingham docks, customs are fixed …’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, no problems there. The container is a mixed load of motor bike spares, re-con engines and general engineering parts. I’ve got two crates amongst the legit gear. The driver will drop them off at a lock-up on the South Bank. All you have to do is transfer them to a tranny van and deliver safely, don’t worry, they’re manageable for a couple of blokes. Piece of piss.’

  ‘Now the million-dollar question, what’s in the crates?’

  Conway didn’t answer the question. ‘You don’t need to worry about that, just get them back here.’ He passed over a sealed envelope. ‘Details are in here.’ It was then that Conway’s ‘other’ mobile vibrated across the coffee table. He seemed undecided about answering the call in front of Warren, then mumbled ‘sod it,’ and picked up. He didn’t recognise the number. ‘Fuck off, whoever you are,’ he said into the handset without giving the caller a chance to speak.

  ‘Nice telephone manners you have, Pat,’ said Warren.

  ‘You still here?’ He said to Warren as he hung up the call.


  Then a text message came through. Conway opened the message, it was an MMS, a picture of Rachell. He jumped up from his chair. He held the phone allowing Warren to see the picture.

  ‘What the fuck’s going on, Ray?’ The picture didn’t show much, just a head and shoulders shot, on a white background.

  Before Warren had a chance to respond the phone rang once more.

  ‘Nice picture, don’t you think, Patrick?’ The voice down the line asked, as the call was accepted. ‘Have you had contact with Rachell lately?’

  It was obvious that Conway recognised the voice, so did Warren, it belonged to Powers. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Like I asked, have you spoken to her lately?’ Silence. ‘No, I didn’t think so.’

  ‘Where is she? You’d better not have harmed her or I’ll rip your fucking head off and spit down your neck.’

  ‘Calm down, Patrick …’

  ‘You have her?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Rachell is fine …for now.’

  ‘For now? How much do you want, Powers? Name your price.’

  ‘I don’t want your money …’

  Conway was quick to cut in. ‘Then what the fuck DO you want, name it and it’s yours,’ Conway yelled down the phone. ‘I just want my girl back.’

  ‘Very kind of you to offer, I’ll be in touch very soon.’ Powers hung up.

  Conway started pacing up and down the small lounge, face red and sweating.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Warren asked. ‘Pat, you listening to me? I said, what was that about?’ Conway was hyperventilating. ‘For Christ’s sake, sit down before you have a coronary.’

  Conway shot him a look and dropped down heavily into his chair. ‘That bastard, Powers, he’s got Rachell …if he harms a hair on her head, he’s dead I tell you, fucking dead.’

  I hope to hell that Neil knows what he’s doing, Warren thought, as he watched the effect the phone call was having on Conway.

  ‘Listen, what can I do to help?’

  Conway lifted his head and looked Warren directly in the eye. ‘Find her and then kill him.’

  Chapter 33

  According to Neil Powers, Rachell was safe and unharmed. Conway was relieved, after all what reason did Neil Powers have to lie? He was holding all the cards, he had something Powers wanted, there would be no advantage to be gained from hurting the girl. This was Conway’s logic.

  Their telephone conversations did nothing but create a stalemate, therefore there was only one logical option available, face to face negotiations if they wanted to come to an amicable solution. At least that was the way Neil Powers saw things, for Conway on the other hand there was only one acceptable outcome, Rachell back and Powers dead.

  Conway arranged to meet Powers on neutral ground. It was agreed they would meet at the river front Victoria Pier, but first he had to make himself ready. Patrick Conway was calm, he went upstairs to his study, and behind his desk he pulled back the carpet to get access to his safe. It was double locked it required a key and a combination code inputting. The lid clicked open. Inside was a large amount of cash – a very large amount and the small bag of ‘Blood’ diamonds he’d acquired from Cole some months previous. He ignored both, today he was only interested in one item, a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield, a compact 9mm handgun. He took out the gun, placed it aside while he relocked the safe.

  He sat at his waxed solid oak desk, passing the pistol from hand to hand. Conway then removed the magazine, holding the 9mm weapon in his right hand he pointed straight visualising Powers standing before him. BANG, he shouted, as he pulled the trigger. Sitting back in his chair he replaced the nine-shot mag and contemplated on the outcome of his meeting with Powers. Rachell by his side and double tap from the S&W to Powers head.

  Back downstairs, he placed the Smith & Wesson on the coffee table and poured himself a small single malt, he needed to keep his wits about him. For a while he had debated with himself as to whether he should consult with Ray Cole, after all, Cole was the “man”, but he was his own man, wasn’t he? Tough, respected in the criminal fraternity, the decision was he could handle Powers on his own, without the help of outsiders.

  The wind ripped across the wooden deck of Victoria Pier, waves from the murky River Humber crashed against the wooden timbers. The adjoining streets were almost deserted. Powers sat in the driving seat of the BMW, fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the music on the radio. He was good at waiting, always had been.

  For once Powers had been outwitted, Conway was already there, watching. For a fat bloke, he was more agile than his build suggested as he approach the BMW on Powers blindside and banged on the passenger side front, briefly throwing Powers off kilter.

  He pressed the switch and the window opened. ‘Nice approach, Patrick, almost took me unawares.’ Powers opened the door, climbed out and locked the vehicle. He pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. Ignoring the wind blowing off the river, the two men walked onto the timber deck. The murky water of the River Humber could be seen between the gaps in the planking.

  ‘Shall we?’ Powers asked, stopping near a wooden bench. They sat side by side with a comfortable gap between them. ‘Not much of a view today.’ The clouds appeared to hang low in the sky and the drizzle of fine rain made it difficult to see the opposite river bank.

  ‘Before you start demanding my life savings, I want assurances Rachell is safe,’ Conway told him as he increased the gap between them.

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected anything less. May I?’ Powers replied, his hand reaching toward his pocket.

  As he did Conway stood up, with his back to the river directly in front of Powers. His hand disappeared into his own pocket and produced the Smith & Wesson.

  Powers raised an eyebrow and tut, tutted. ‘No need for firearms, Patrick.’ He took his Smart Phone from his pocket, selected the image folder and with an outstretched arm passed the mobile over. The image showed Rachell sunning herself on a sunbed. He flicked the screen, others showed her in pool, drinking a cocktail, sat on the beach with the musician.

  ‘What the hell are these?’

  ‘Exactly what they look like,’ Powers paused for effect, ‘a young girl on holiday having a whale of a time.’

  ‘I may be thick, but it doesn’t make any sense, explain.’

  ‘If I had suggested a meeting and the possibility of working together, what would your answer have been?’

  ‘I would have told you to fuck right off, I wouldn’t go into business with you if my life depended on it.’

  ‘Precisely, leading you to believe you daughter had been abducted was the only way I could guarantee that a meeting would take place. Look, Patrick, can we not carry out this conversation somewhere more amenable,’ he said as salty spray blew off the river.

  ‘Rachell?’

  ‘I’ve told you she’s fine, don’t worry she’ll be home soon.’

  Conway nodded towards his vehicle. ‘I need some answers.’ He opened the door and sat behind the steering wheel, placing the Smith & Wesson on the dashboard.

  ‘And answers you will get,’ Powers said, as he opened the passenger door on Conway’s Range Rover and climbed in.

  ‘Rachell?’ Conway asked once more.

  ‘I have contacts with many in many places, high and low, she wasn’t too hard to seek out. As far as the girl knows, she won an AirCanada, inflight competition, a fourteen-day break for two to Tenerife, all inclusive of course with five hundred pounds spending money. My man told her the only stipulation was that she had to leave the same day. She jumped at the chance.’

  Conway took out one of his miniature cigars and lit up, the blue smoke whipping away over the river.

  ‘So, what are you after,’ he said as he put the cigar to his lips again, ignoring Powers obvious discomfort.

  ‘A partnership in your business.’

  ‘Are you fucking daft, why would I go into partnership with you?’

  ‘As I said, I have the contacts available t
o ensure things always run smoothly, and I mean always. And you, Patrick have the business acumen to make it worthwhile for both of us. What’s more, I have information that as you said yourself, your life may depend on.’

  ‘Piss off, there is nothing you can say that can be detrimental to my life expectancy.’

  Powers turned to face the man behind the wheel and spoke in soft voice. ‘Is that so?’

  There was something in the voice that un-nerved Conway.

  ‘Let me ask you a question, what do you know about your associate Raymond Cole?’

  ‘Cole, I’ve worked with him on more than one occasion, he’s as sound as a pound.’

  ‘So, if I told you Cole isn’t all what he seems?’

  ‘I’d say you’re off your head. I know everything there is about Ray, you can’t tell me anything I don’t know already.’

  ‘I thought you’d say that.’ Powers reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a folded A4 sheet. ‘Take a look at this.’ It was a copy of Greg Warrens police personnel file.

  Conway was quiet as he read, the face he was looking at belonged to Ray Cole, or did it? he couldn’t be sure. He folded the sheet and handed it back to Powers.

  ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘As I told you, Patrick, I have friends in very high places. Contacts you wouldn’t believe possible. So, what we have here, is proof, Gregory Warren, Detective Sergeant is Raymond Cole. Don’t you get it Conway? He’s been playing you all along.’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes, deadly serious.’

  ‘I find it hard to believe, he’s done right by me so far.’

  ‘On the surface, maybe, but are you willing to continue taking the risk’ Conway didn’t answer. ‘Remember, Jimbo? Of course, how could you not? You practically raised the lad after his old-man topped himself.’

  ‘What about Jimbo?’

  ‘Now I’m sure this will surprise you, he’s working with the police as a Civilian Advisor.’

  Conway was speechless, he didn’t know how to respond. There was silence, then he gathered himself together. ‘They’re dead.’