Men jumped out of the van on both sides, a couple heading towards Holborn, running wildly, and three into the roaring print labyrinth behind them.
‘That’s Smith and Georgie Robertson,’ Barnard yelled.
‘And Mitch Graveney,’ Kate yelled back. ‘He’ll know his way around in there.’
‘Come on or we’ll lose them,’ Barnard said and set off at a run into the overpowering noise of the rolling presses where newspapers were already spewing off the conveyor belts and being loaded into the first of the waiting vans. Very few men had turned towards the collision in the street outside, no doubt because they had not heard the impact or the frantic knocking on the windows of the police car from the furious officers trapped inside.
Kate and Barnard could see the fugitives, Graveney in the lead, racing up a metal stairway close to the thundering presses and then along a catwalk obviously intended to be used only when the machines were not in action. If the machine minders, all in earmuffs, even noticed what was happening they took no interest, presumably because their supervisor looked as if he was in charge.
Barnard led the way cautiously up the stairs and along the catwalk, with Kate close behind. About halfway along Georgie Robertson glanced behind and realized for the first time that they were being followed. He grabbed Graveney’s arm and gestured at their pursuers and the three men stopped and began to move to block the narrow gantry. It was only then that Barnard realized that Georgie Robertson had a gun which he was pointing firmly in their direction. No one, he knew, would hear anything at all if he shot them both.
Graveney must have taken in the look of horror on Barnard’s face because he spun round and knocked Robertson’s arm upwards so his shot went harmlessly into the ceiling but as Robertson lunged in his direction Graveney lost his footing, teetered for a moment against the low guard rail before crashing, arms and legs flailing, into the roaring, rolling machinery below. If he screamed as he fell no one heard and it was a minute before his body arrived below, covering the morning’s news with blood, and someone switched the presses off.
In that minute Robertson had moved forward and grabbed Kate, pressing his weapon against her head.
‘Stay there or I’ll kill her,’ he said in the sudden disorienting silence which had fallen. And Barnard, dumbfounded, stayed where he was as Robertson and Smith dragged Kate onwards towards a narrow passageway and disappeared. Gripping the guard rail, his knuckles white, Barnard glanced down to where a group of men were clustered around what must surely be the body of Mitch Graveney. He was gripped by a wave of sheer fear and stayed where he was until a file of uniformed officers climbed up to the catwalk and surrounded him.
‘Georgie Robertson and Reg Smith,’ he said to the uniformed inspector who put a non-too-friendly hand on his arm. ‘They’re armed and they’ve got my girlfriend with them,’ he said.
‘Which way did they go?’ the inspector asked and Barnard waved a hand towards the end of the catwalk which seemed to terminate at a door. ‘This must lead into the main building. We just followed.’ The inspector waved his men on towards the door but when Barnard went to follow he shook his head.
‘DCI Jackson wants words with you,’ he said. ‘He’s on his way. You wait down below and leave the rest to us.’
Barnard ran a desperate hand through his hair. ‘I need …’
‘Downstairs, sergeant,’ the inspector snapped. ‘Your involvement ends here.’
Kate sat in the back of Reg Smith’s Bentley with Georgie Robertson’s gun pressed against her ribs. They had left the catwalk above the presses and found themselves in an empty stairwell in the main part of the Globe’s offices. The two men had hurried her downwards to ground-floor level where they forced open a fire door and found themselves in a quiet back alley where the mayhem they had left behind them seemed to have not so far disturbed the peace. The two men had hustled her towards busier streets, Georgie with his weapon hidden in his pocket but firmly pressed into her side, where they found Smith’s car parked unmolested at the kerb. Robertson pushed Kate into the back seat while Smith accelerated away.
‘Stick to the plan?’ Smith asked quietly.
‘Oh yes,’ Georgie said. ‘Pity that little enterprise turned out like that. But we’ve still got time for lots more. I’ve got scores to settle, but after that we’re all set, just as we planned. Even now they won’t come near us while we’ve got this little lady with us, will they?’ He leered at Kate and she shivered.
‘It’s a good job we covered our backs with our friend at the Yard,’ Smith said.
Kate opened her mouth to speak and then thought better of it.
‘It’ll all come good when I’ve dealt with my brother,’ Georgie said. ‘Witnesses can disappear as you know very well. And Flash Barnard’s on the skids anyway. You know that too. No one’s going to believe a word he says.’
‘It’s not what I bloody wanted, even so,’ Smith said angrily. ‘You said it would all run smoothly.’
‘It will, it will,’ Georgie said. ‘Trust me. We’ve got it all sewn up. That bloody poofter will do as he’s told.’
Looking out of the window Kate realized that she recognized Piccadilly Circus and was not too surprised when Smith swung into the narrow streets of Soho and parked at the back of the Delilah Club.
‘I’ll wait here,’ Smith said. ‘Ready for a quick exit. You go and see your brother and take the dolly bird with you. What you do with her is up to you.’ Georgie grinned, a reaction that Kate knew was very far from reassuring. He leaned across her and opened the rear door of the car and motioned for her to get out, holding on to her arm as he followed her, gun hidden under his jacket but still menacing.
‘Come on sweetheart,’ he said. ‘We’ll go and say hullo to Uncle Ray, shall we?’
Furious, Barnard did not wait for Jackson to arrive. The DCI was, he reckoned, the last person he wanted to see just now. He walked quickly away from the police activity around the Globe and took refuge in a phone box close to where he had parked his car what seemed like hours before but which, when he glanced at his watch, was only half an hour ago. The phone rang for a long time at the Delilah Club but eventually Ray Robertson answered it and sounded surprised to hear Barnard’s voice.
‘Georgie’s on the loose, tooled up, and he’s got Kate with him,’ Barnard said. ‘Have you any idea where he might hide out?’ Barnard could hear the sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line.
‘What happened?’ Robertson asked and Barnard told him briefly.
‘I never thought I’d be asking this but do you think I can get some protection. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came after me. He’s mad enough.’
‘Call the nick,’ Barnard said. ‘I’m out on a limb myself, but I’ll get to you as soon as I can.’
He hurried to the Capri and accelerated away hard into High Holborn where he wove through the traffic in the direction of Soho. It was a long shot, he knew, linking up with Ray Robertson but as he was excluded from the hunt for Kate it was the best he could think of and much better than doing nothing. And it might even pay dividends. The traffic was heavy around Piccadilly Circus but when he turned towards the Delilah he managed to park on the opposite side of the road and as he put his hand on the door handle he hesitated as he saw Georgie Robertson half push Kate through the doors of the club. Ray had been only too right, he thought, but at least Kate was alive. For that he gave heartfelt thanks to all the gods he did not believe in. He picked up his car radio and contacted the control room at the nick.
‘Stay where you are,’ the controller said crisply. ‘We’ll be with you in five.’
Barnard hung up, locked the car and crossed the road. He knew that reinforcements would not rush in if a hostage was being held but the hostage was Kate and he would do what he could. Now and always.
He walked quietly across the empty club where the tables were already readied for the evening’s business. He could hear raised voices in the direction of Ray Robertson’s office and
he crept up to the door which was ajar. He could see Kate sitting in a chair facing him looking terrified as she watched Georgie Robertson waving his gun at his brother, who was slumped in his chair behind his desk with blood running down his face, from a head wound which Barnard guessed had been inflicted with the butt of the gun.
Barnard inched the door open a fraction and eventually caught Kate’s eye. He put a finger to his lips and mouthed the single word: scream. Her eyes widened and she gave an almost imperceptible nod as Georgie continued to harangue his brother.
‘You never, never wanted me,’ he screamed. ‘You did everything you could to keep me out of the business. I knew that. Ma knew that. And in the end you made sure I ended up blamed for everything and looking at a bloody life sentence. Well, if I end up in Dartmoor I may as well end up there for you too. But I won’t, you know. I’ve got insurance now. And what you’ve got I’m going to have all to myself. I’m going to be the king of Soho now. Pity you won’t be here to watch me.’
But as he raised the gun again in Ray Robertson’s direction Kate gave the blood-curdling scream she had been saving her breath for. The distraction was enough to turn Georgie’s head in her direction and that was enough to let Barnard spring on him from behind and bring him crashing to the floor. Ray Robertson found the strength to jump over his desk and stamp on his brother’s hand, sending the gun sliding out of reach where Kate quickly picked it up. Twisting Georgie’s arms behind his back Barnard gave Ray a crooked grin.
‘You don’t have any handcuffs handy, do you?’ he asked.
Ray took off his tie. ‘This do?’ he asked.
And Barnard tied Georgie’s hands securely before leaning back on his heels. ‘Jesus wept,’ Barnard said. ‘He had me worried there for a minute.’ He got to his feet and as he put his arms round Kate, Ray put a foot in the small of his brother’s back to prevent his moving.
‘I owe you,’ Ray said briefly, pulling out a handkerchief to staunch the blood which was now running freely down his face. ‘But what did he mean, he has insurance?’ He prodded Georgie roughly with his foot. ‘Who the hell are you working with?’ he asked.
But Georgie just cursed into the carpet.
‘I’ve an idea, but no evidence,’ Barnard said.
‘They talked in the car about someone at Scotland Yard,’ Kate said quietly. ‘A poofter who’d do as he was told.’
Georgie cursed more volubly and Barnard nodded, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as disconnected facts slotted into place and made sense of so much he had not understood over the last few weeks.
‘You must have a very powerful lever, Georgie, to get that sort of help from the top,’ he said.
‘The best,’ Georgie spat out. ‘The very best.’
There were sounds of activity outside in the club and Barnard opened the door wide to find himself face to face with DCI Jackson, DS Vic Copeland and a couple of armed officers.
‘It’s all over guv,’ he said putting an arm round Kate again. ‘No major harm done. You don’t happen to have seen Reg Smith anywhere do you? He came here with Miss O’Donnell and Georgie Robertson.’
‘He was waiting outside in a Bentley,’ Jackson said curtly. ‘We’ve detained him on suspicion of armed robbery for now.’ He glanced around the room, taking everything in before turning to Copeland. ‘Get George Robertson back to the nick and his brother to hospital,’ he said. ‘I’ll take preliminary statements from Sergeant Barnard and Miss O’Donnell.’
Copeland flashed a look of pure hatred in Barnard’s direction but Barnard merely smiled. He guessed he would not have to put up with Copeland much longer.
‘You are amazing,’ Barnard said dropping a plate of steak and chips on to the table in front of her and kissing her neck as he did it. ‘Most girls would have been a gibbering wreck if they’d found themselves sitting in with two feuding gangsters with murder a moment away.’
‘You turned up just in time,’ Kate said soberly. ‘I’m sure Georgie had every intention of getting rid of me too. I’d seen and heard far too much.’
‘We were very lucky,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. ‘I wanted to see Ray because I wanted to warn him and I thought he might know where Georgie would hide out. I’d no idea he was so obsessed with getting rid of Ray he would stop off at the Delilah before he tried to hide out. I’m surprised Reg Smith was fool enough to allow it.’
‘They seemed to think they were invincible,’ Kate said. ‘That was my impression.’
‘To an extent they were while they had John Amis behind them,’ Barnard said.
‘But why did he do that?’
‘Smith and Graveney met him at their Masonic lodge and one of them must have discovered at some point that he was queer. Think of the scandal there’d be if a senior cop turned out to be a poofter. So that gave them a handle and I guess Reg Smith went to a lot of trouble to check out Amis’s lifestyle. So when Smith wanted Georgie Robertson to replace Ray in Soho so they could run the gangs in concert together, he must have put pressure on Amis to get rid of the witnesses and somehow get me out of the way too, as I was regarded as a mate of Ray’s. So Amis sent in Copeland to get rid of the pair of us and allegedly clean up Soho. But Amis was losing it himself by this point. He was linked to Nigel Wayland by now which meant Smith could put even more pressure on him. Wayland was murdered and Amis tried to pin it on Vincent Beaufort, but that didn’t stick. We don’t know yet whether Amis himself killed Wayland or whether Smith arranged it so that he could threaten Amis even harder. It could have worked either way. But they’ve found plenty of forensic evidence that Amis was at least a regular visitor at Wayland’s flat in Berwick Street.’
‘Has he been arrested?’ Kate asked.
Barnard glanced away for a moment. ‘He realized the game was up,’ he said. ‘He shot himself in his office yesterday, wearing full uniform and leaving a confession neatly typed out on his desk.’
Kate sighed. ‘How’s Ray?’ she asked.
‘He’s OK. Sitting up in bed bossing the nurses about. His ma went to see him but he turned her away. Said he never wanted to speak to her again.’
‘And Carter Price seems to be on the mend. He’s already making plans to take me out to dinner.’ She looked at Barnard seriously for a moment. ‘I won’t go,’ she said. ‘And what about you? Have you got your job back?’
‘Apparently,’ Barnard said. ‘Vic Copeland’s been suspended and is likely to be charged for perverting the course of justice as well as beating up Vince Beaufort. It’s a pity Amis won’t be in the dock with him but we can’t have everything.’
‘You don’t do too badly,’ Kate said, smiling.
‘Can I have you?’ Barnard asked.
‘Ah,’ she said enigmatically. ‘We’ll have to see about that, la.’
Blood Brothers Page 23