Cause & Effect (The Gemini Borders Trilogy Book 3)

by Toni Parks

  With the in-house fighting taking both sets of eyes off the ball, his father was the one preparing to travel to Zurich, so leaving Francesco to hold the business together and recoup. He had been warned off any heroics and no retribution. ‘It’s far better to consider the options and take our vengeance in our own time,’ his father had again counselled. But that was not Francesco’s method and it was not how he would rule when the old man was gone, either. He was more of a ‘strike while the iron’s hot,’ kind of guy. ‘And there’s still that bloody thing buzzing over my head. Bloody McLaughlin sure knows how to get to me!’ he thought not for the first time.

  Alonzo had no sooner left for the airport than Francesco rounded up his men. Although never being a man of the bible, he still proposed an eye for an eye, sort of. The two buildings on St Fittick’s Road had been exceedingly valuable assets; and the money generated per annum ran into the millions. Income they could ill afford to ignore, let alone lose. So Francesco’s idea was to replace it immediately and at least expense. And how better than by just blatantly stealing it from McLaughlin, himself. The plan was simple: take out as many of McLaughlin’s bagmen as possible. Men: collecting protection money from local businesses, pimps and drug dealers; each being tasked with safeguarding their own miniature financial world. It would not replace all their losses in one fell swoop but it was a start and at the very least it left its own calling card.

  Francesco’s men and whoever of his father’s who thought the plan a good idea, arrived at the mill individually and left in teams of six, each capable of taking on the opposition, and with a brief to seriously dent that opposition permanently. In Francesco’s haste to wreak havoc he let his guard down. The banner had been an aide to his confuscation, which it achieved with aplomb. Watching their preparations, another drone was positioned at a greater height and sent images of the action below direct to McLaughlin’s techies’ crew. They had no firm idea of what their enemy’s intentions were as the drones’ technology did not encompass mind reading, but they rightly guesstimated that there would certainly be mischief afoot.

  As they pondered, so too did DI Barbour. The banner eerily flapping across the sky without any source of propulsion and its stationary loitering over the northwest of the city transfixed her. She supposed it to be a hang glider until spotting two gaudy coloured outlandish objects dragging it across the sky as if against its wishes. She figured that they could be remote controlled helicopters or more likely the new fangled drones that seemed to have become the vogue. Either way, she contacted forensics as she took a visual bearing. “Hi Mike. Brenda Barbour here. I know you’re stacked but can you get one of your colleagues to sift through the debris from the arson job, I’m hoping you’ll find mechanical pieces of possibly a miniature helicopter or a small drone. The sort of thing dads buy their kids but never let them play with as they’re having too much fun themselves. You know the sort of thing.”

  “Can’t say I’ve had a go or even seen one myself but that maybe due to me being stuck in here too long, working too many hours.”

  “My heart bleeds. But more to the point I can see two of the buggers right now and they’re dragging along a cryptic message, which must mean something to someone.”

  “OK. We’ll get on to it pronto. Are you at HQ?” “No, you better contact me on the mobile. I’ve a feeling I could be out and about trying to protect the good citizens of Aberdeen for some time yet.”

  The spy drone had not picked up on the DI but it knew exactly where Lucisano and his men were heading. Francesco had led his men out of the mill in single file. They piled into the four awaiting vehicles and headed across town to Clarence Street in the vicinity of the docks. They may as well have stood in a long line, waved their arms around and shouted, ‘LOOK AT ME!’ or even advertised their departure in the Evening Express or on Original FM, for all the discretion they took. Now the other two drones, having ejected the banner, followed unobtrusively too, relaying geographical positioning along the way. Once on Clarence Street the vehicles split up so as to collectively contain their anonymity and separately seek out their prey. The now three drones increased their altitude, so allowing their operators bird’s eye views, and a continued ability to track the predators. Mobiles began to vibrate on Wellington Street, Links Road and the Esplanade as well as Clarence Street itself. The message in all cases was pithy and clear, ‘Immediate alert. Action required.’ McLaughlin’s men were not going to be caught out twice and commenced the preventive plan as agreed. All active negotiations were discontinued and disappointed customers and their prospective delights were shepherded to safety without realising that their lives were in any more danger than a future visit to the doctors. Drug deals were suspended mid sentence and in unheard of acts of honesty, money was handed back to the punters without threat of violence.

  The remaining players emptied the hardware from their car boots and retreated to prearranged defences. The drones’ pilots forwarded descriptions of the incoming vehicles as they approached the predetermined ambushes. Semi automatics were raised and aimed in the anticipated directions as trigger fingers cramped and shook in expectation and nervousness. The vehicles duly arrived to a background serenade of police sirens. DI Barbour had had a gut feeling about the two visible drones and ordered their movements to be monitored. As they headed east towards the docks, two cars were despatched to break up any possible altercation. The sirens were the drivers’ idea, their interpretation of The Charge of the Light Brigade. They certainly had no intention of driving a bullet riddled, colander convertible out the other side of a prospective war zone.

  Their presence, both visual and audial, did the trick. The four drone-identified vehicles cruising the zone, continued out the other side themselves, and headed north up the Esplanade whilst the would-be assassins remained hidden and silent, melting seamlessly into the background. Francesco was left frustrated. McLaughlin was left frustrated. Only DI Barbour was satisfied with the outcome, excepting the fact that she may have wasted valuable financial resources on a wild goose chase and would never know the difference of what ending her intuition had prevented. The two groups of protagonists were far from satisfied as both now felt that there was an infiltrator in their camps who had forewarned the opposition of their respective actions. Francesco had a vague idea of where to point the finger but Calum had never had to previously question his employees’ honesty and fidelity to their cause.

  *

  6.30 came around too soon. Jessica had slept well and felt refreshed until she recollected her circumstance. Her new cellmates had tiptoed around her and were armed with towel, shampoo and body gel waiting for the door to be opened and so get first dibs at the showers. Jessica jumped up to tag along, thinking that being part of a crowd was a safer option than washing solo amongst strangers. Even though her notoriety, once known, might assure her a wide berth she was conscious that there was always one who had to top your achievement by bringing you down. And she was not too convinced that her Taekwondo training would be able to do the talking in such a confined space. So strength in numbers, with truth in the adage of ‘watch your back’, was the order of the morning. Mishaps avoided, the three finished their toiletries and applied whatever makeup they had bought inside, been sent or had negotiated in insider trading. From Jessica’s experience of working in Social Services she knew that less was more in the sense that the plainer you looked the less you stood out. And anyway she had no interest in her appearance in her present mental state.

  She was returned to her cell after breakfast, having not been allocated to any workstation or study class. But she had not been able to rest for long before a warden collected her, and both marched to the Governor’s office. Here Jessica was advised that due to her deteriorating condition she was being fast-tracked in front of the Sheriff again. Jessica was as puzzled as the Governor at this and presumed that she must have been acting more strangely than she thought. But orders were orders and a judge’s decision was final, until it was appealed anyw
ay. So Jessica found herself transported back to the very court she had appeared in a few days previously. Elspeth had pulled strings to bring forward the secondary hearing and was now proposing that the accused be allowed bail on mental health grounds, and also with taking into consideration the distance she would be required to travel to court if she was relocated to Rampton. The Sheriff considered the request but astonishingly for Elspeth his direction erred on the side of caution. His surprise at a procurator even suggesting such a move for a defendant accused of five murders was beyond his belief. He therefore flagged it as a concern questioning the mettle of the said prosecutor.

  Elspeth visibly slumped down in her chair on hearing the guidance given and from that point onwards her mind was given over to turmoil rather than its usual razor sharp, lucid thoughts. She left The Sheriff Court as soon as possible and found a quiet spot from which to text. Eduardo rang her back within minutes. “You’re late.”

  “Yes, I know. The bloody bail has backfired on me and now the judge is giving me strange looks and probably wanting to investigate into why I suddenly suggested bail. I mean it’s unheard of, for the procurator in a case to do an about turn and become the lenient one; we’re usually the bad cops. Even the defence solicitor was confused.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Well, your friend Jessica is in for a trip. Down to Nottinghamshire.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “That’s where most female patients with a mental disorder

  end up, when detained under the Mental Health Act of 1983. There isn’t enough room at Cornton Vale, which I so ably argued with his honour and he agreed. So he’s sending her down there straightaway and she’ll have to travel all the way back up in five days time for her official hearing. So you better see if you can free her on the trip south.”

  “That’s obviously a far harder task than just picking her up from her flat. Is there no other option?” “None that I can manoeuvre and like I say, it’s more than likely my moves and proposals will be scrutinised from now on.”

  “Well unfortunately for you Miss Macleod your life is not going to get any easier. The threat of exposure still hangs over your father and it will not be removed until Jessica is safely in our hands. So I suggest you stop feeling sorry for your career and start thinking about other opportunities to help us. No one takes kindly to sex fiends, no matter what the size of village, town or city.” With that Eduardo ended the call in frustration. He knew she could do little else at present, so he would have to push the task onto SpiyWeb and presume that a day, time and route for Jessica’s journey south would be forthcoming.

  *

  Once the bodies and limbs had been removed from the two buildings, forensics was able to verify that small metallic alien fragments were found in abundance amongst all the glass vials and other solid detritus. Most were either strewn across the floors, embedded in what remained of the walls and doors and some even found permanent sanctuary embedded in the dead victims. There was no doubt that the fragments could be part of flying drones, and the job was now to identify which model or models. Then one of the remaining ones still strutting its stuff across Aberdeen air space needed to be brought down to earth; in the end it could all come down to corroborative evidence. On hearing this news DI Barbour smiled, a link had been made no matter how tenuous. All she needed to do now was to hold her breath in the belief that by doing so, future events would freeze in time, so as to make past events become clearer. But in reality, just as with all idioms, she knew holding it or not, would solve nothing. Multiple deaths were being totted up in and around Aberdeen with the DI, her superiors and those operating beneath, all being left playing catch up.

  *

  Time and again, SpiyWeb proved their worth. Their no fuss, no obfuscation and straight dealing gave Eduardo all the ammunition he needed, except for a hand held rocket launcher with which to take out the transportation. But he knew he could never do that anyway, considering the precious cargo that was to be carried. So he called on Aberdeen’s previous offer of help. Alonzo was still absent on his treasure hunting trip to Zurich. Francisco was around but too busy to talk; even to the hand that had just fed his family, goodness knew how many millions. Still he condescended to help Eduardo in his quest. Gone was all the ‘we’ll be with you all the way’ rhetoric, to be replaced by an offer of just two men. Francesco had bigger fish to fry, particularly as Papa was otherwise engaged but he could afford to dispense with the services of two of his men, especially as Joey the dunking man had given them up as possible spies. Eduardo, being none the wiser, accepted them gracefully on face value and arranged to meet them at the railway station. He briefed Francesco of his need for them to be ‘tooled up’ and to pack for a job that would probably last several days. Francesco was happy to oblige and relieved to get the two alleged grasses out of his hair. If they came back alive he would deal with them then but at least now they would have no knowledge of the organisation’s next move.

  *

  Jessica managed just one more night on her mattress in the right-angled corner of a cell made for two. Early the next morning she tiptoed out considerately but still both her short term companions shouted, “Best of luck, girl. Knock’em dead! Whoops sorry, not quite dead, I mean.”

  “Yes, bye Cat. Bye Bonnie. Sorry I thought you were both still asleep.”

  “’Fraid not. Nobody’s ever really asleep in a place like this. We all just rest our eyes whilst our misdemeanours spin round our heads like one of those old zoetrope thingies, spitting out fuzzy pictures at a rate of knots.” With that Jessica, clothed in the majority of her personal belongings with just a few extra in a bag on her back, still tiptoed out in deference to the early hour. She was escorted to the canteen, given a quick breakfast and then signed out four times. To her, it appeared to be harder to get out than in, but then that was perhaps how it was planned. Her final destination was the transport area, where two officers were milling around with clipboards, whilst a third one was studying the forthcoming itinerary. His eyes scanned the details one last time just as Eduardo had scanned the same details only half an hour ago.

  Being new to the area he had to rely on his Italian instinct to suggest the best opportunity and method to highjack the vehicle. Three things stood out from this reliance: one, the Scottish Borders was relatively traffic free, meaning that the chance of witnesses would be slim. Two, the geographical profile of the terrain being undulating, meant that any ambush in a valley bottom might be disguised by surrounding hills. And three, the transporter had been directed to stick to the A68 as opposed to the A696 or the A1. Both roads presumed to have more rush hour traffic from commuters and freight transport, heading primarily to Newcastle. Eduardo still concurred with his original suppositions, and was then able to put a cross on the map, marking the spot most advantageous to the deed.

  The three had arranged to rendezvous at Aberdeen Railway Station. Eduardo awaited their call on his mobile and was not disappointed. They met and purchased tickets to Edinburgh. From there they hired a nondescript van with a sound engine that boasted far more power than it visually should have. The heist was to be the following morning so Eduardo had time to walk the other two through the proposed action. As ordered the prison vehicle, for which they not only had a description but also a registration number, would be travelling along the A68 until it picked up the A1 at Junction 58.

  Caleb Clooney drove the ‘dry run’, based on Eduardo’s directions. Keeping to the A68 and crossing the border at Carter Bar they continued on as it followed its sweep to the right heading for Corbridge, as opposed to transferring onto the A696, the most direct route to Newcastle. Following a fairly straight but narrow road, Eduardo was on the look out for several houses on the right followed by a reasonably sized lay-by also located on the right, which was located a short distance before the B6320 intersection. The idea being that once Jessica was liberated they would all drive south, turn left at the junction, drive through Otterburn and then take the
A696 north back to Scotland. So as they approached the layby he ordered Caleb to drive by slowly. The entrance or exit rejoined the main road on an uphill bend, making it visually difficult for oncoming traffic to see a vehicle manoeuvring to rejoin the road. Opposite the lay-by entrance/exit there was a rough farm track. Now Eduardo looked at his two colleagues and waited for the cent to drop and fair play, they were both quick to grasp the simplicity. Rehearsals are all well and good but just like financial deals the real thing could either go better or worse than expected. Therefore Eduardo instilled in his colleagues that complacency had no part to play in their little pantomime, but at least they were now forewarned as to the lie of the land. All that remained was a return to Jedburgh, a discreet B&B, sustenance to keep the energy levels up and an early start the next morning.