by John Morris
“Yes, fourteen of them, and they are shown here. Count them.”
Felicity said, “Dan, if you please.”
Dan came straight to the point; Jake was irked and needed straight answers. “The reason I am here, is because the local villages have been taken over by Muslims, all of them. Do you know why?”
“No. And they’re a damned nuisance, breeding like rabbits and changing the country way of life. But what’s this got to do with me?”
“One hundred years ago, and less, these village houses were nearly all in tithe to the local farms, and some to factories. The farms got progressively bigger, and they needed fewer workers, machinery took over, as you stated. Then these farms were sold, merged, and the farm buildings often destroyed to make way for land and larger fields.”
“Yes, that would be about right. But I still don’t see why you’re interest in any of this.”
“Well, the bottom line is, that with the farm mergers, and factories, schools even, going out of business, people lost track of who owned what. The villagers remained, as did the houses they lived in, except they were held in tithe to nobody.”
“You mean they were not passed on as part of the estate.”
“Exactly. Many deals were hand-written, stamped by a solicitor from out of the area, and the tithe housing slipped by unnoticed.
“Our problem today, is that nobody owns these tithe cottages, until interested parties knowing this, take advantage. I need to show you a document, and I will ask you in all truth, whether you have any knowledge of it. This information may be used in court.”
Dan showed the letter of transfer made by Ali Bros. Solicitors, naming all village properties transferred by Lilac Farm to Anglo-Asian Holdings. Fifty-three properties had exchanged hands for an average price of £160,000. The fee payable to Lilac Farm was just over eight and a half million pounds.
Manager Gurney gawked at the piece of paper, and tried to speak, but no words were uttered. Dan said, “If this were a legitimate sale, your accounts would have records.”
This gave Gurney words. “I know nothing about this, and we never received any money. You can check our bank account.”
Felicity interceded. “We may do so, Mister Gurney. But there may be no need, unless this, and many similar, are taken to court. Do we have your full support?”
“Damned right you do. They’ve even forged my signature, and I’ll be damned if I know how they got hold of that. Eight and a half million, and they scammed us out of that. I would’ne have sold regardless, what happened to the villagers?”
“They were kicked out, and their houses, homes some had lived in all their lives, were given to asylum seekers, all Muslims by the way.”
Mister Gurney seemed in a bad way, muttering things like, “I never knew. This is a miscarriage of justice.”
He seemed to get himself back together as they reached the car. “You’ll be visiting us all I guess, the large farms. Have a word with Marty Wimpole. He said something odd to me at a market. It may have been last year, or this. Yes, late spring. He was moaning about Muslims hassling him, and I did’ne pay attention at the time. The young bull I was there to buy was just being readied for auction.”
“Thanks Jake, sorry to put you through all that, but you now understand what we are up against. Please don’t contact the other farms until this evening. Thanks.”
As Dan drove them on to the next farm, Felicity said, “Dan, that was one hell of an insight, and we now have proof that Ali Brothers are cheating. They’re, probably using the bill of sale to launder money.”
“Agreed. I managed to video the all of it. Here stick my mobile on charge. We better do the lot today, but we can go a quicker next time.”
“Definitely. If they’re all as helpful as Jake, this will be a breeze.”
Not all the farm managers were as open as Jake, but most were. All were horrified to discover they had apparently, and officially, been paid for selling property they did not realise they owned. None had received payment.
This was brought into focus when they spoke to Marty Wimpole. “I had these Muslim accountants come out here asking about old cottages. I got the impression they wanted to buy them from me, but we don’t own any. All we have are the farm workers houses, and that’s it.”
“Was there anything else, talk of money?”
“No. What was odd though, was that as soon as I said we owned none, they said, ‘Sorry, we must have made a mistake’, and they left. No, wait a minute, on the way out, my secretary said they looked at our farm certificate hung on the wall, and they took a photo of it. When I heard about it, I went to challenge them, but they were driving away.”
“May we see it?”
“Yes of course, let me show you.”
They looked at the certificate, but saw Marty’s signature on a commendation nearby. Dan held up his phone and said, “May I?”
He took a photograph, and they departed shortly afterwards. Dan said, “I’ll get experts to check this signature, against the one the Land Registry hold on the bill of sale.”
“This is a major scam, Dan. We should take them to court. I’m going to prepare files for the Crown Prosecution Service, and look into the money laundering aspect.”
“Alison would be better at that. Don’t action anything just yet. We need to see the whole picture, not scare them off or break up the team, before we understand how they work.”
Nearing the end of their country gambol, and close to finishing the visits, they met with Nodger Rotes, his demeanour was as charming and as unsettling as his name.
He had an old school, broad local accent. “Now let me see there me pretty and handsome. I knows about them there old tithes. But as under manager, the bosses weren’t interested. Mentioned it several times I did too, and to the regional manager––he’s an accountant you know. I was driving him to the station, and mentioned it again.
“He told me this, ‘What do we want with a load of old properties. The occupants can’t afford to pay much in rent, and the houses are so old it’ll cost a fortune in upkeep. Look at that one over there, needs a new gable end, and that one on the slant, it needs the foundations underpinning’.”
When they drove out, Dan smacked his head and said, “I never saw that one coming. When the farms got bigger, they abandoned the tithe houses, due to the upkeep and building maintenance. Tithe was free of rent regardless. These old homes were a profit liability.”
“You did good today, Danforth. One more, and then we better go back. I want to check with Percy and Dick, plus the two new lads, see how it went. I also need to try to define how long this is going to take.”
“I told Matt, the director in Peterborough, about two-weeks, but less than a month should be closer to the mark.”
They returned to the police station in good time, and the day’s debriefing went well. Both teams had covered more ground than expected. Afterwards Felicity said, “I think you should take those few not at home every couple of days or so, early finish one day, late finish the next. It’ll keep you fresher.
Percy said, “There’s one village to the north where it is not worth going before six-thirty. Nobody will be there, and it’s quite large.”
Dick said, “Same here Ma’am, but with two villages, one large, and a smaller one. Even if everything goes well, it’ll take a couple of visits each. Weekends would be better.”
“Okay, Percy, Dick, pair up, and do these villages in one night. Work with me here. I have zero budget for overtime. So you can either start late, and finish late, or work say, Saturday, when hopefully the locals will be at home, and take Monday off instead. Comments?”
There was a hush. Dick broke the silence, “I could really use a Wednesday off, I need to go to a market, but it’s in Norwich.”
“Deal. Percy?”
“I’m fine Ma’am, but prefer working in the village.”
“Noted. What about you two, Phil, Chad?”
Chad was the more vociferous, “We’re co
ol. This is great. Hardly anybody gets to do fieldwork at The Morgue, that’s what we call work.”
Dan asked, “Why?”
“It’s an in joke. We usually deal with the estates of dead people. It gets quite complex sometimes. This is a lot of fun, thank you. We’re fine with the hours, so if you want us to work every day, we’re up for it.”
Phil added, “Yeah. Like, it’s not as if we got summut else to do. The nightlife sucks, and we’re stuck here.”
Felicity said, “Point noted. You’ll get days off in lieu I understand.”
“Yeah, but all out of hours work will be classed as standard time.”
“We’ll see about that. To confirm, Phil, Chad, you will each work seven days per week, and out of hours, as long as we do the overtime reckoning for you. Great, gets this finished much quicker.”
Percy raised his hand and said, “For a similar deal, I’ll work the same, get this done and done with.”
“Same here,” said Dick
Felicity looked at each of them in turn, and said, “Okay, you’re on, the four of you. Tell me if or when any of you need a break. Otherwise I expect you to go for this, and break the back of it.”
Everyone departed moments later, but Dan hung back. When the Inspector seated herself, Dan said, “I guess you’ll be working late tonight. I could cook for you, at your home, Greek perhaps, good for settling the stomach.”
“Dan, I thought to slob on the couch, but thank you. I tend not to get most symptoms of … menses, except in my guts. They are churning right now. Food is the last thing I need. It’ll be over tomorrow. Well, the stomach, the curse, a day later. Mind you, this has been very light.
“Go, I am fine with this, I just need to deal with it myself. I tell you what though, if you were to make that dinner an Italian extravaganza, I will allow you to cook for me on Friday. Deal?”
“Deal.” Dan turned and opened the office door, and half-stepping through, said, “Oh, and I will need help cleaning up my new house on Saturday, the Land Registry director signed off on it, and Percy’s house also. You have new neighbours. Ciao.”
Dan left sharply, and had only just closed the door, when something heavy thudded the wood from the inside. There was no sound of breakage, so he presumed a heavy tome of police, or female law.
Picking up the pace for leaving, he found Percy sidling beside him. “Back to the inn, Dan?”
“Yes, but I need to catch up with Alison, and I bet she’s still working. It may need the both of us to get her out of there.”
“I’ll ride shotgun Dan. Ensure she comes with us.”
Alison did join them for drinks and evening meal, but a lot later than any of them imagined. She had come up trumps, but refused to say a word until all results were in the next day.
Chapter 21 ~ Consolidation
Dan went to bed early and woke early. He enjoyed evenings at the inn, but seldom drank more than a couple of pints, although there had been occasional exceptions. He completed his morning routine, adding twenty minutes training before his shower. He had brought a small set of dumbbells down, enough to keep his muscles in trim.
Walking into the office, he found Alison in the kitchen being served breakfast. Stella said, “Same for you, Dan?”
“Yes please, and a sausage or two if you have them.”
“On its way. I made a pot of coffee for you. Tell me, how many people will be here today?”
Dan was filling the mug he always used. “From now on, just the two of us. The operation has moved on. There may be others later, but we’re about it for the next few weeks.”
“Good, that lets me plan ahead. Seems I won’t have much to do in future. Oh, and thank you. Percy came by yesterday with a dashing young man, and I am now signed up as owner of my home. The deeds will be a few days, but it’s such a relief.”
“I’m pleased we could be of assistance. Percy and I each got a house as well. They were the director’s and senior manager’s houses of the defunct tannery. Both need one hell of a lot of work doing on them, but they are an investment.”
“Let me have a key when you decide to begin cleaning. I don’t mind setting too, and I have a little scooter I could use to get there and back.”
“Thanks Stella, I’ll call on you. Everything else okay?”
“I’ll need to run to the shops today or tomorrow, as we are low on most things. These are the last two sausages.”
Alison added, “I could do with going as well. Is there a supermarket here?”
“Yes, and a small plaza. You should find what you want. Let’s say I run you both there just before lunchtime.”
Soon after, Dan and Alison got down to work, he catching up with the aircraft log, and she working her way through a list of tasks. She was rudely interrupted when Dan shouted, “Shit!”
“What is it Dan?”
“I missed it. Maybe for weeks. “
“What?”
“These planes are occasionally switching transponder codes.”
“Yes, we already know that.”
“No, it's not like that, these are blips.”
“What do you mean, they change them?”
“Yes, exactly that, and not because they’ve been told to by air traffic control. Come and check yourself.”
“This is weird. It’s as if they switch the transponder on, then reset the code to the one they are supposed to be using.”
“Precisely. And that in turn means these other codes that blip up for a split-second, also need checking.”
“You’ll need to follow this up with Trimingham.”
“Yes, but first I need to note down all of these new codes, and that’s a lot of research.”
“So, the ramification is that they pretend to be different aircraft.”
“Yes, and they get away with it because there is no visual confirmation. There are no eyes on, except at regular airports.”
Later they went shopping, where Dan dropped the girls off at the plaza, and returned to spend a few minutes with Felicity. She seemed chirpier and they chatted for a few minutes. He informed her, “I’ll be away for most of next week. My director insists I take a course in bureaucratic bullshit, it’s required for my promotion. I could do without it, but if I do not pass it, someone else will be posted in as my Commander. I want that job on this case. It will get much bigger quite soon.”
“That’s great news Dan, you must do well. How does promotion work at MI6?”
“Mostly it’s about monitoring agents, and filling in paperwork. The key is access to information. For instance, I can access GCHQ directly, but my Commander has higher clearance. There are some requests that must be run through the Director. It will actually be most useful, as long as I can remain on the operational side of the fence. I hate office jobs.”
“Seems to me you spend most of your days in an office.”
“Yes, but that’s different.”
The intercom buzzed. “Sorry Dan, you’ll need to go, I have an appointment. You still cooking Italian for me on Friday?”
“Of course. I better buy some ingredients before the girls finish at the supermarket. Ciao.”
Lunch, back at the office, was buffet style, but accompanied by vegetable soup. Stella explained, “The days grow colder as winter approaches. I thought to get a stew going, if you are Okay with beef?”
“Yes, do it.”
“Mmm. Yummie with mashed spuds.”
Afterwards they returned to work. One hour later, Alison jumped up with joy. “Got it! Here’s the next concentric ring, covering the next twenty miles out. Have a look while I add the parish and town wards, police jurisdiction, and related electoral role.”
Alison added several documents and maps, and they set to study demographics and property ownership. “You’ll notice this includes Thetford and the reason I chose this width of circle.”
“Excellent work, Alison. It’s plain to see they are targeting medium sized towns, those with a viable town council.”
“Yes, towns that contribute members to the county council.”
“You mean all of these towns shown here in green, exclusively?”
“Yes. This is effectively a map of political power holdings. Regards Wymondham, the villages were required to prop up the Muslim vote. You will see that Thetford has larger villages and suburbs, a higher density of people, which they can effect more easily, especially with this housing of asylum seeker nonsense.”
“I’m beginning to see a much bigger, and clearer picture now.”
“I’ll set the next ring to thirty miles farther out. It’ll take days to generate, but it will give us the in-depth info we need to make decisions of priority. It includes Cambridge and Newmarket.”
“Perfect. Add in Luton, it’s where the Muslim companies are based. Percy is still waiting for his informant to deliver, but he is police, so I expect the information soon. If we can unravel what they did in Thetford, and how they accomplished the takeover, it will show us their hand.”
“Agreed, Dan. I’m waiting on Percy’s information. I mean I could request the details officially, but that shows our interest, and word will get out to the wrong people.”
“Yes it would, guaranteed. Alison, that reminds me, I think the community copper in Cambridge was okay, but not his bosses. The other in Thetford was Pakistani, and he was fluent with everything we asked of him, but I just got a bad feeling about the all of him.”
“You mean, like he was a plant?”
“Yes, precisely. His name was Constable Iqbal Mahmood. See what you can discover about him, his background, and associates. With your latest, I need to finish my daily reports, and probably speak to the Director. Anything you need?”
“No, I’m fine. I was thinking of asking Stella to join us for dinner. What do you think?”
“That’s fine by me, makes the team more inclusive. She’s been on her lonesome since her husband died of cancer. I’ll be in my room. See you in the lounge around seven.”