Finders Keepers

by Kris Lillyman

  Quickly finding a shopping centre on the outskirts of the city, he parked up and, with the briefcase still clutched tightly in his grip, went in search of the item he needed. Within half an hour, he was back in the car with a newly purchased backpack sitting on the seat next to him. Setting off again, Jake drove out of the city and into the beautiful surrounding countryside, the sun now setting on a lovely French evening, the rain having ceased about an hour out of Calais.

  Jake drove around many narrow lanes trying to find somewhere suitable to park up for the night and shortly before dark found just what he was looking for. In a field, surrounded by woodland was an old, tumbledown barn, the entrance concealed from the road. Jake pulled over and quickly surveyed the building, finding it empty and apparently unused. It was perfect and he drove the BMW inside, hiding it completely from view.

  It was only now that the tiredness finally hit him. Suddenly Jake felt utterly exhausted from his long journey and the events of the last twenty-four hours. His eyelids were leaden and he needed desperately to sleep.

  Jake took off his glasses and placed them carefully on the dashboard, then reclined the seat and made himself comfortable as he pulled Charles Khan’s warm cashmere overcoat over him. As the darkness closed in around him he fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Tomorrow his new life would start in earnest.

  Chapter 10

  Detective Chief Inspector Roper Coyle had his head buried under the pillow and the duvet pulled up over the top of that but he could still hear the buzz of his mobile phone, which was switched to ‘vibrate’ in the hope that he would not be disturbed from his much needed slumber. He was wrong.

  Coyle had closed a particularly taxing case just the day before and had been working long into the night finishing up the substantial amount of paperwork associated with it, so had not climbed into bed until four that morning.

  He lived alone, having divorced his wife some years earlier after discovering her in bed with his former commanding officer. Yet now the dust had settled he bore her no ill will as they had both been too young when they got married and had simply grown apart.

  He was now thirty-eight, unknowingly good looking and attractively dishevelled in a way that appealed greatly to women. There was no front with Coyle, what you saw was what you got and people responded well to him because of that. He was also tenacious to a fault, when he got his teeth stuck into a case he just would not let it go which earned him respect within the force. Sometimes though, this tenacity worked against him with his superiors as even when a case went completely cold, Roper refused to give up on it and had difficulty moving on to other more pressing ones.

  However, he had closed a big case last night and now he was trying to sleep but his damn phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Exasperated, he threw out an arm and snatched up the phone. “Coyle!” he barked, “What is it?”

  “Well now,” said the voice on the other end of the phone, “that’s not a very warm greeting.”

  Coyle opened an eye and saw the name on the phone’s screen. “Jeff?” He said groggily, is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me Roper and I’ve got a very late Christmas present for you.”

  “Listen, Jeff, it’s great to hear from you but I’ve just finished a really late one and I’m absolutely knackered,” Coyle said, hoping to end the call quickly.

  “Well I think when I tell you that Charles Khan was found dead in his car this morning and a diamond worth easily in excess of thirty-thousand pounds was found nearby you might want to wake up.”

  Grainy was right. Coyle immediately sat up and was instantly alert. “Khan’s dead?” he said. “Tell me more.”

  Roper had spent much of his career chasing after the Khan brothers but every time he came close to catching them they had, for one reason or another, managed to slip through his fingers. Indeed, they had proven to be most elusive so it was with keen interest that he listened to everything Grainy had to say.

  * * *

  Roper showered, dressed and chugged down two cups of black coffee before receiving the case notes by email from Jeff. After reading them avidly, Coyle concurred with Grainy, who was not prone to exaggeration, that there was something more to this than a simple road accident. But what that was remained to be seen.

  By 2.30pm, he and his lanky, young Detective Sergeant, Dave Eckhart, were standing in the doorway of Arthur Khan’s mews house in Chelsea and had just broken the news to Arthur that his brother had been found dead.

  Both detectives looked tired and world weary as Coyle said, “I’m very sorry for your loss, sir”.

  Arthur was stunned. “Charles is dead?” Somehow he already suspected this but to hear it said aloud made it seem all the more terrible.

  “Yes, Mr. Khan. I’m very sorry.”

  “You’re sure - absolutely sure it’s him? There are a lot of black Range Rovers about - maybe —”

  “I’m sorry, sir, there is no doubt. Your brother’s driving license was found in the car, as was his wallet containing his credit cards.”

  “Oh, my God.” Arthur was clearly shaken. His worst fears had been realised, Charles was dead. His younger brother gone. It was like he’d been punched in the gut.

  “I’m afraid I have some questions for you too, Mr. Khan. Some questions that I really must have an answer to if we could just take up a few moments of your time. I know it’s an intrusion into your privacy at this extremely sad time, but like I said, it is quite important.”

  Arthur Khan looked up, straight into the piercing blue eyes of Roper Coyle. Oh, Christ - the diamonds! They’ve got hold of the diamonds!

  “Um, look, this is all a bit of a shock, Arthur said, “Maybe you could come back later perhaps - or tomorrow—”.

  “Like I said, Mr. Khan, it’s really quite important that we speak with you now. We won’t take up too much of your time. Just a few minutes, I promise.”

  “Fine, fine. Come in then if you must. But please, I’m still trying to absorb what you’ve told me about Charles, so I’d be grateful if you would make it quick.”

  “Yes, of course. I quite understand” Roper said as he and Eckhart followed Khan into the modern, expensively decorated interior of the trendy mews house.

  Once in the sitting room, Arthur collapsed onto a white leather settee and gestured for the detectives to sit in the two chairs opposite. Arthur was a big man. Burly, broad shouldered, his charcoal hair closely cropped. He sat with his forehead resting on his hand, the grief on his tanned face clearly etched. “So what is it you so desperately need to know, detective?” He said.

  “Could you tell me what it is that you and your brother do for a living, Mr. Khan?” Coyle asked, knowing only too well.

  “What we do for a living?” replied Arthur, slightly relieved, having half expected the first question to be about a briefcase full of priceless diamonds. “We’re retired military, Detective Chief Inspector. Old soldiers. We dabble in a few matters of business - logistics, import, export and the like but nothing too serious. Mostly we do nothing. We play golf, enjoy a nice glass of wine, occasionally enjoy the company of a lady. You know the form, don’t you? Two bachelors with too much money to spend - what would you do?”

  “Quite,” said Coyle. “You’ve only just recently moved back to the UK, I understand. From living abroad, I mean?”

  “That’s the life of a soldier, Detective Chief Inspector. Never at home for long. Listen, is this all you want to know because —”

  “No, sir. It’s not all, I’m afraid.” Do you know if your brother owned a gun?”

  “A gun?” Arthur exclaimed, feigning shock, “Of course he didn’t.”

  “You’re sure, Mr. Khan? You’re sure your brother didn’t own a chrome-plated Magnum?

  “Good lord, no! Why on earth would Charles own one of those cannons?” Arthur sincerely hoped that DCI Coyle did not
check the coat rack on the way out because he would have found his own chrome-plated Magnum in its tooled leather shoulder holster hanging there.

  “Because one was found in his car, Mr. Khan and because he was wearing a shoulder holster custom made to accomodate it.”

  “I’m sorry, I know nothing about that. If that’s correct then I’m extremely surprised. Charles was an ex-soldier, as I have said. He knew guns very well. Maybe that’s something to do with it, I don’t know.”

  “Do you own a gun, Mr. Khan?”

  Arthur looked up at the question, again staring into Coyle’s inscrutable eyes. “No, Detective Chief Inspector, I most certainly do not. I am a respectable man and so was my brother.” Any minute, Arthur thought, this policeman’s going to ask about the diamonds and that’s going to make Charles’ possession of a gun a trifling matter.

  “You say you were soldiers, Mr. Khan, until you retired. Yet our records show that you and your brother both bought yourselves out of the army some years ago - which leaves quite a gap between your leaving the army and your return to the UK. What was it you did in the intervening years?”

  “I said that we were soldiers, Detective Chief Inspector, I didn’t say for who. I’m afraid Her Majesty doesn’t pay her armed forces quite so well as some other organisations.” Arthur was feeling irritated now. Ask about the bloody diamonds and get it over with.

  “A mercenary, then?” Roper said.

  “A soldier.”

  “Quite.” When did you last see your brother, Mr. Khan?”

  “Night before last. We had dinner together.”

  “And he was heading where? Do you know?”

  “Sorry, Detective Inspector, I don’t know.”

  “It must have been important don’t you think, it’s pretty treacherous out there. The coroner says the accident happened sometime last night, perhaps around ten.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know. I’m not my brother’s keeper.”

  “No, of course not. But to be travelling last night in all that weather - well, it must have been important, that’s all.

  “Yes. I suppose. Now, if you’ve finished I’d like to get on with grieving for my brother, if that’s alright.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Coyle and Eckhart stood up in unison. “My deepest condolences once again.”

  “Thank you - Mister...? I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name.” Arthur couldn’t believe it, no mention of the diamonds. Nothing. What the hell had happened, or was this guy just bluffing?

  “Coyle. Detective Chief Inspector Roper Coyle and Detective Sergeant Eckhart. We’ll see ourselves out sir. Thank you for your time. We’ll no doubt be in touch.”

  At that moment, Arthur Khan’s mobile phone, which lay on the coffee table in front of them, sparked into life, the ringtone sharp and offensive in the solemn atmosphere. Coyle glanced down and saw the caller display. Peter Bearing. He made a mental note.

  Khan snatched up the phone and quickly silenced it. “Sorry,” he said. “Now if that’s all —”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Er, sir,” Eckhart said to Coyle, pushing his boyish blonde hair back with the palm of his hand, his acting rivalling that of Olivier’s “There was just that other thing —”

  “Oh, yes, that’s right,” Roper replied, looking up at his gangly sergeant and giving him just the very slightest of winks, his theatrical skills matching his partner’s.

  Here we go, thought Arthur. Here’s where they ask about the hundreds of diamonds they’ve found in Charles’ briefcase.

  “Do you know whether your brother had anything to do with diamonds?”

  “Diamonds?” Arthur said, a little too casually, “No, why?”

  “It’s just that one was found at the scene, a few feet from the car. I’m told it’s worth well over thirty-thousand pounds,” Coyle said.

  One! One solitary diamond! Not hundreds - but one. What the hell is he trying to pull?

  “My God. No, I’m afraid I can’t help you again, Detective Chief Inspector,” Khan replied, feigning innocence. “Maybe it was lost by somebody else. I’m sure I would have known if it belonged to Charles.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you would, Mr. Khan. Anyway, just thought I’d ask. Like I said, we’ll see ourselves out.”

  And with that, Coyle and Eckhart departed. Leaving Arthur Khan in a state of complete and utter shock. And this time it had very little to do with the death of his brother.

  * * *

  An hour later Arthur Khan was sitting in Peter Bearing’s enormous office. His big frame hunched miserably in a wide leather swivel chair that sat directly across from Bearing, the large expanse of his contemporary chrome and glass desk spanning the width between them. The floor to ceiling windows, with their spectacular views of The City looking out onto a grey, gloomy day that matched the sombre mood within.

  Khan had lost a brother and Bearing a close friend. But they had more to worry about than Charles.

  “One bloody diamond, Peter. Can you believe it?” Arthur said.

  “I must admit I do find it extremely difficult to comprehend,” replied Bearing. He exuded calm even under circumstances such as these but his concern was clear to see. “Either the police have them, in which case we must wait for the other shoe to drop, or —”

  “Or what? You think they’ve been stolen?”

  “I think it most likely don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think straight, but yes, I suppose it’s possible.

  But by who? A passer-by? An opportunist thief who thinks he can get away with stealing millions of pounds worth of diamonds? I mean it’s not petty stuff we’re dealing with here. If it was one or two stones or maybe even a case full of money then yes, maybe. But that many diamonds - four, five hundred big rocks - I mean come on, how stupid have you gotta be?”

  “I know,” said Bearing, “I quite agree. But still the fact remains, the stones are missing and if the police don’t have them, then who on earth does?”

  The room was silent for many minutes as both men pondered the situation. Peter rose and walked over to a large glass cabinet and fixed Arthur another whisky. As he handed it to him he said, “Wherever the diamonds are, we’ve got to find them, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” said Khan.

  “And whoever’s got them needs to be dealt with.”

  “Agreed again. Especially if they had anything to do with Charles’ death, I’ll take great delight in killing them myself.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” said Bearing, who knew very well that his friend was more than capable of doing so. “So I propose we call in Sumpter.”

  “Aaron Sumpter? Why? I can handle this, Peter. I’ll find the bastard who’s got them and I’ll deal with them in my own way.”

  “I know you could, Arthur. But I feel we need a subtle approach. You’re too emotional at the moment, quite understandably so, but I’m not sure that’s best for our present needs. If the person who took the diamonds was responsible for Charles’ death then you will have your vengeance I promise you, but for now, let Sumpter take the lead.”

  “I don’t trust him, Peter, you know that and I could —”

  “No, Arthur. Aaron Sumpter has been with me a long time and with my father before that. He is trustworthy and what is more, he’s a rottweiler, he’ll gnaw away at this until he finds something. He’ll stick at it through thick and thin until he finds us our diamonds.”

  “But, Peter —”

  “My decision is final, Arthur. That’s the way to play it, you mark my words. Sumpter will get us our diamonds back, you see if he doesn’t.

  * * *

  DCI Roper Coyle sat at his desk back at the yard drinking a lukewarm coffee from a polystyrene cup. His short brown hair was stylishly messy, although quite unintentionally, and he had a five o’clock shadow darkening his
square jaw which was down to a serious lack of sleep and an extremely heavy case load. He rubbed his sad blue eyes that every woman on the force had fallen in love with and thought about Charles and Arthur Khan. Something definitely wasn’t right. Roper was a good detective but he didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to work that one out.

  Jeff Grainy had known it too. The two of them had worked together many years ago and had kept in touch ever since. Grainy was an old school detective who followed his instincts. Coyle was the same and everything about this case had his instincts screaming.

  Firstly there was the gun, so much more than just a defensive weapon. Then there was the military background - mercenaries who made their fortune from illegal wars. And then there was the diamond. Over thirty thousand pounds worth in just one big stone. Perfect cut, colour and clarity it said in the notes. This troubled Roper more than both the other two things put together.

  Added to all these things was the name Peter Bearing, which had flashed up on Arthur Khan’s phone. Of course it could have been just one of many Peter Bearings, not necessarily the Peter Bearing who was a big name in The City and who, along with the Khans, had also been on Scotland Yard’s radar for some considerable time. But, and it was a fairly big but, if it was that Peter Bearing, then that, too, flagged up another interesting little twist.

  This case certainly had many avenues to explore and Roper intended to search each one to the full. There was something bad happening here, he knew it, he felt it in his gut and as the cops always said on TV, his gut never lied.

  Chapter 11

  Jake was awoken early by the dawn chorus in the first faint light of morning. He was cold now and his limbs ached but he had slept well and felt surprisingly refreshed. He scratched his thick, sandy beard and rubbed his bleary eyes before putting on his glasses. Then he climbed out of the BMW and had a long, revitalising stretch before taking a much-needed leak behind the car.