Frank walked into the public bar a little after eight-thirty, ordered a pint of lager, waited for the man he had come to see to catch his eye, then wandered around the back to the toilets. Less than a minute later he was joined by a stocky little character with a spider web draped around his neck, a skull beneath each ear, and a bloody dagger slanting across his left cheek.
‘Evenin’, Mr Rogers. Thought we’d seen the last of you around this manor. What can I do for you?’
‘How’s tricks, Tattoo?’
‘Mustn’t grumble. I don’t know that I’ve got much for you, though. A few dodgy mobiles, some phone cards, maybe.’
‘I’m not after information.’
Tattoo ran a hand through his blond cropped hair, frowning. ‘What is it, then?’
‘I need a piece. And I mean a good one, not some reject that’ll explode the moment I pull the trigger.’
The man’s eyes narrowed, suspicious now. ‘Oi, what’s going on? You trying to set me up?’
Frank sighed. ‘Don’t you read the papers? No, of course not. What am I saying, you don’t read, do you? I’m out of the business now, Tattoo. I work for myself, and I want a gun. No questions asked.’
‘Okay.’ The nervous man nodded thoughtfully. ‘To hire or buy?’
Frank knew the market had changed, and that some people hired small arms specifically for certain jobs. ‘To buy,’ he replied.
‘How much can you go to?’
‘Whatever it takes. I want a pistol, a Browning or even a Glock if you can lay your hands on one. Something of that quality.’
Tattoo gave a low whistle. ‘You are serious. The Glock’s out of the question at short notice, but I do have a piece you’ll like. Cost you four hundred.’
‘Done. I want twenty shells thrown in.’
Tattoo smiled. ‘You got the cash on you?’
Frank was wearing a lightweight windcheater jacket. He patted the breast pocket. ‘There’s a fifty here for your trouble if you can get it right now.’
‘Give me twenty minutes.’
‘Make it ten. I don’t like this crap-hole of a boozer.’
Shortly after midnight, Debbie touched a cold sheet beside her. She wandered downstairs, found Frank in his study where she knew he would be, empty glass in one hand, a photograph of Laura and Gary in the other. His shoulders were heaving as tears streamed silently from his eyes. Debbie came up behind him, both arms embracing his chest.
‘I had to look at this,’ he explained without turning. ‘I’d forgotten what they looked like, Debs. I’d forgotten what my children looked like.’
Later, after Debbie had gone back to bed, Frank took the gun out of his desk drawer and turned it over in his hands. He didn’t feel like a criminal. In buying the gun he had committed a crime, but he genuinely believed his reasons for doing so were moral and just. It would be a heartless jury that would convict him if the gun was found in his possession. As for killing the man who had Laura … well, that was another matter entirely.
38
At ten-fifteen on Wednesday morning, instead of driving north to interview Tania Penny as he’d intended, Frank found himself at New Scotland Yard, sitting in the large, exquisitely furnished office belonging to Deputy Assistant Commissioner Thompson. To Frank’s right, was Nicky, and beside him sat Superintendent Foster, arms crossed, face turned away. The three were lined up on one side of a huge teak desk that was certainly not standard issue.
The DAC entered the room barking instructions to a young, bespectacled woman. She remained by the door, writing on a small notepad, nodding often, but saying nothing. She appeared to know when he was done, because without another word, she left the office, closing the door behind her.
Thompson took his place at the desk. The DAC, winding down his days prior to retirement, headed up the Met’s Directorate of Professional Standards. Frank had never met him before, but knew he had a reputation for firm, fair handling of all matters. A large, silver-haired man with a broad, open face scored by deep lines that told of a career filled with grim and frustrating experiences, he eyed each of the three faces opposite before speaking.
‘Five minutes ago, I terminated the surveillance operation on Alan Stevenson,’ he said, his deep voice resonating around the room. ‘I take it you gave the order for that operation, Colin?’ His eyes bore into Foster.
Foster cleared his throat. ‘Before I answer that, sir, I would like to formally complain about the presence of a civilian at this meeting.’
Thompson frowned. ‘You mean Frank? Colin, he’s here because he was ordered to attend. I should also remind you that he does have an official capacity at the moment. Your complaint is duly noted, but let’s push on. Now, did you give the order or not?’
‘Actually sir, it was DCI Loizou who was in charge of the surveillance.’
‘I’m perfectly aware that Nicky was the one who wanted and suggested the op, but you would have given the final order, would you not?’
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Foster met DAC Thompson’s stare for the first time. ‘I have complete faith in DCI Loizou, sir. I trusted him to have done all that was necessary. I understand the costs of maintaining such a surveillance, but I was assured that an operation like this would reap dividends within twenty-four hours.’
Thompson nodded and clasped his hands before him on the desk. ‘And were all necessary checks and clearances made prior to giving the go-ahead for the op?’
‘As I said, sir, I had faith that the DCI would have done all that was required.’
Nicky remained stoical throughout this exchange, but Frank could see the set of his jaw, and imagined his friend would be inwardly fuming. Without knowing why the surveillance had been pulled, Foster was passing the buck. This came as no surprise to Frank. Still he was furious.
‘This is complete bollocks,’ he said, looking directly at the DAC. ‘Sir, the surveillance had to be arranged at short notice. I urged immediate action, but I know Nicky went through all the correct channels, including obtaining approval from his senior officer.’
Thompson blinked at Frank and grunted once. ‘Your reputation for speaking your mind precedes you, but even though your status is temporary, I’d appreciate a little respect for my rank.’
Frank nodded. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but it grinds my gears when I hear people trying to wriggle out of their obligations.’
‘All the same, hastily arranged operations, particularly surveillance ops, often go awry, and a little more time ought to have been put into this one.’
‘Exactly,’ Foster remarked, nodding his head sagely.
‘By the officer with overall responsibility for this case,’ Thompson added, his voice growing louder with each word as his attention swung back to Foster. ‘Namely, you, Colin.’
‘With respect, sir, I may not have been given all the facts.’ Foster was determined to stand his ground. He adjusted the glasses on his nose. ‘The DCI and Frank Rogers are thick as thieves, and have little respect for authority.’
‘Perhaps it depends on who wields that authority, Colin. And how.’
Frank, whose main concern was that their suspect now had no one watching him, leaned forward and said, ‘Sir, why exactly did you cancel the op?’
‘We had a complaint, Frank. One we had to act upon.’
‘A complaint? From who?’
‘Alan Stevenson himself.’
Frank glanced across at Nicky, who seemed shocked by this revelation. The surveillance had been spotted after all.
‘Stevenson is not a happy man,’ Thompson continued. ‘DCI Loizou, were checks made on Stevenson’s background?’
‘They’re on-going, sir. They were ordered right away. I have to confess that I haven’t taken time to follow up my request. But as Frank has pointed out, we couldn’t afford to wait.’
‘That’s as maybe, but you wouldn’t have found a criminal record.’ He glanced down at an open folder of notes, and raised his eyebrows. ‘Though that may have been a clo
se call. What your checks may eventually have come up with, however, is that until three years ago, Alan Stevenson was a sergeant with the Vice Squad.’
‘He’s one of ours?’ Nicky could hardly believe it.
‘Was. He left under an enormous black cloud, however. Allegations of corruption, a bit too familiar with the women on his patch, a little heavy on the violence, that sort of thing.’
Frank snapped his fingers. ‘I remember the stink it created,’ he said. ‘The name meant nothing to me, but I do recall the rumour-mill going into overdrive.’
‘No wonder he spotted the surveillance,’ Foster said. ‘A sloppy arrangement all round if you ask me.’
Frank glanced across at him and shook his head contemptuously. The man didn’t appear to realise he had no allies in this room.
DAC Thompson stood and walked across the royal blue carpet to a narrow window, hands clasped behind his back. Bathed in sunlight, he peered out for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts. When he turned around, his face was grave.
‘Stevenson is a bitter man. If he can get his own back on the force, he will. He’s threatened to sue us if we go anywhere near him again. Harassment, he will allege. Given the way he was forced out of the job, and the current litigious climate, he’d probably win. Therefore, he’s out of bounds from now on, gentlemen.’
‘But, sir, this changes nothing,’ Nicky protested. ‘In fact, this makes me suspect him all the more. Whoever is responsible for the murders and the abductions is very clever; he leaves us nothing to work with. Who better than a fellow cop? Even his desire for revenge makes sense of why he’s now toying with us.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it, chief inspector. And if you want to follow this up, then you must do so. But you go through all correct procedures. You dot every i and cross every t. What you do not do is go anywhere near Alan Stevenson unless you are prepared to make an arrest. And if you do that, you’d better be bloody sure about your evidence. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘How about you, Frank?’
‘I’m with Nicky as always, sir.’ This was neither the time nor place to reveal his lack of conviction.
‘Then do what you can, people. But do it the right way. By the book. And keep away from the man.’ The DAC gave a single nod. ‘That’s it then, gentleman. Thank you for coming.’
As they all got to their feet, Thompson retook his own seat, held up a finger and said, ‘Superintendent Foster. A word please.’
As Frank and Nicky filed past him, Foster glared at both men. Perhaps the penny had finally dropped. Frank deliberately met the glare, held it for a second, then winked. The look on Foster’s face made him want to laugh. He managed to hold back until he and Nicky were way down the corridor.
They sped back through the city, taking the Embankment alongside the Thames, heading east towards Blackfriars. A multitude of vessels made their way across the gleaming water in both directions, many of them containing tourists. London, and its river, were doing the visitors proud today.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Nicky asked. ‘How do we dig into Stevenson’s life without him finding out? It only takes one word in the wrong ear.’
Frank agreed. ‘I’m not even sure he spotted the surveillance. He may still have friends in the job, someone who tipped him off about the op.’
‘Perhaps. Our man is one tricky fucker, and he always seems to know what we’re thinking. Who better than a cop to know what’s inside a cop’s head? What I know for sure is that we now have to investigate him with both hands tied behind our backs.’
‘Not quite. If he was the bad apple they claim, he’s bound to have left enemies behind somewhere.’
‘But those are in his past,’ Nicky argued. ‘We need to know what he’s up to now.’
‘You’re right. But you know how I feel about Stevenson. It would suit me if you put a DS on this and let them run with it.’
‘Stevenson is our only suspect. I still like him for it, despite what you say. You go with your gut feeling as always, but I’m looking at the evidence. And that tells me we can’t drop this. The problem is, without surveillance we’re blind.’
Frank heard the matter-of-fact tone, but saw something completely different in his friend’s pensive features. ‘Let it go, Nicky. Have him checked out thoroughly, but don’t do what I think you’re going to do.’
Nicky glanced at him. ‘You know what I’m thinking?’
‘No. Tell me.’
‘What if you’re wrong? What if Stevenson is our man and we let him slip through our hands?’
‘But I don’t think I am wrong.’ Frank gave a thin smile.
‘And I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking. I’m surprised you do.’
‘Are we going to fall out over this?’
Nicky smiled and ran both hands down his cheeks. ‘I doubt it. But you never can tell.’
‘No,’ Frank agreed, matching his friend’s smile. ‘You never can.’
39
‘Go back home, Frank. Go to the annexe, go anywhere; do anything but stay here.’
‘I’m keeping you company,’ Frank insisted. ‘And that’s all there is to it.’
‘You believe you’re right and I’m wrong, and you don’t really want to be here. You shouldn’t be here, because if this goes tits up, you need to stay with the investigation.’
Frank gave Nicky a hard stare. ‘Then just you make sure it doesn’t go tits up.’
The two men stood in the cool shade of a stand of trees on the golf course opposite the road where the Redbridge family lived. They were less than a hundred yards from where Frank had been when Nicky called to tell him about Stevenson. As the pair spoke in hushed voices, their eyes were fixed firmly on Alan Stevenson’s van, parked just around a corner less than a hundred yards away.
‘What’s he up to?’ Frank wondered aloud. ‘What’s he doing back here?’
‘I can’t work it out. First of all, he sat for a few minutes doing nothing. When he finally got out of the van he was acting … furtively, I guess. You know, looking around him, anxious, nervous even. He then walked up to the corner of the Redbridges’ road, peered around a hedge, ducked back sharply. A couple of minutes after that he went back to his van and climbed in. Same pattern on two more occasions since you turned up. Makes no sense. Now he’s back in the van, just sitting there waiting.’
‘Yeah. But waiting for what?’
Frank had posted himself close to Alan Stevenson’s home just after five that morning, guessing that Nicky would be parked up somewhere close by. At seven-ten, Stevenson came out, got into his van and drove off. Frank smiled to himself as Nicky’s Mondeo slipped away from the corner of a side street to follow. Frank sat three vehicles behind him all the way to Chingford, becoming more thoughtful as he realised where they were headed. Frank found a space and waited for his friend to position himself and settle down to watch Stevenson. Less than ten minutes later he was creeping up next to him.
Frank smiled at the memory of how startled Nicky had been. Then had come the explanations, Nicky pleading with him to leave.
‘I still can’t believe you didn’t spot me tailing you,’ Frank said now, grinning and shaking his head.
‘And I can’t believe you were stupid enough to follow me here.’ Nicky rolled his eyes. ‘If Foster could see us now he’d be rubbing his hands with unrestrained joy.’
‘Fuck Foster.’
‘Yeah, fuck Foster,’ Nicky agreed. Then he nodded and pointed. ‘Heads up. He’s on the move again.’
Stevenson was out of the van once more. Aside from a postman and a lone dog walker, the pavements had been clear for almost an hour, yet still the man appeared edgy. Looking about him, he walked slowly to the corner of the road, then craned his neck to peer around the hedge. This time he didn’t make his way back to the van. Instead, he strode purposefully towards the Redbridges’ house. Looking back over his shoulder, he paused for a moment as if uncertain how to proceed now tha
t he’d reached this point.
‘This is not right,’ Frank said, concerned by what he was seeing. ‘Our man would never attempt this in broad daylight. He’s strictly an early hours man.’
‘Maybe he’s casing another house.’
‘The man we’re hunting wouldn’t need to, surely. He’s been down this road several times before. I don’t like it, Nicky. Something’s wrong here.’
‘What do you want to do, Frank? I’m beginning to wonder about this myself. I’ll back your decision either way.’
‘I don’t know what to do. Just sit tight for now.’
‘What if he’s looking to silence witnesses?’ Nicky offered. ‘The Redbridges may actually be in danger here, Frank.’
‘I can’t believe he’d be that stupid. He knows he’d be the prime suspect.’
‘All the same, if he does something, we may have no alternative but to go in. He may be dictating the terms here, not us.’
Frank nodded his head, squinting across the road. ‘I wonder if that’s it. What if he’s banking on someone still watching him, and he’s trying to force our hand? Make us snatch him when he’s doing nothing wrong. Wouldn’t do his harassment case much harm, would it?’
Just then, Stevenson turned on his heels and nipped through an open gate, walking briskly down a path alongside the house next door to the Redbridges’.
Frank cursed and moved away from the cover of the trees. ‘We have to get closer. Once he’s out of sight we have no way of knowing what he’s up to.’
‘Don’t rush him, Frank. We have to let him get inside, if that’s what his aim is.’
‘I know. But we have to find somewhere where we can see down the side of that house. He may be waiting there for us to steam in and nick him. On the other hand, he may be breaking in right now.’
Degrees of Darkness Page 21