The Spook who flew over the cuckoos nest. (BOOK 2)

by Gary Tulley

  Eastern wasn't about to take any prisoners in knowing that the following few days may or may not offer up any fresh evidence.

  "Nobody suggested that it was going to be easy, Benny, but then again, Brezznov isn't your usual run-of-the mill villain either. I feel sure that there's more to this 'heist' in spite of what I know already."

  "I'll take your word for that, Mike. All I need to be aware of, is where you're coming from."

  "Faces! in a word. The unknown conspirators lurking in the background, what I mean? Take the in-house security guard for instance, or whoever it was that sanctioned the necessary access on the night of the 'heist'. To my reckoning, he's only one amongst many that we need to bring down, if wer'e going to crack this case in it's entirety."

  "Huh, no pressure there then," replied Simmons in a jocular fashion. "By the way, what do we know of Brezznov's movements since you last had contact with him?"

  "We don't! in a word," an exasperated Eastern countered regretfully, "as far as the agency is concerned, he's gone completely off the radar since the 'heist'. In fact, I'm still waiting for a call from him myself for further direction. What we do know from our resources, is that his apartment in Hove has been vacated per se. Plus, there's been no movement at Ruby's cottage either. Putting it mildly, the assole has done everybody up like a kipper, and......" He left off abruptly as a hidden scenario then invaded his thoughts. "Call me stupid if you like, but I'm beginning to wonder if Brezznov knows more about me than I give him credit for."

  Outwardly, an astonished Simmons appeared to be fazed by Eastern's sudden revelation. "Surely you're not suggesting that he's known all about your true identity all along...I mean, what could he hope to gain from it? No, I just don't buy it, Mike."

  "I fully respect your views, Benny, but then answer me this. What would fulfil Brezznov's status more than money, and even power, come to that? Well, I'll tell you.

  It's all quite simple really, when you work it out. To me, the guy, to my mind, is totally motivated into bolstering his own precious fucking ego...full stop! By sucking me in to the 'heist', he figured I was easy prey to nurture along as a guest on his egotistic bandwagon. Think about it, in a sense he's created a double whammy. Not only has he pulled off the impossible, but he's also fucked the establishment."

  "Okay, so just for the moment, let's assume that you're right, Mike. It still begs the question you need to ask yourself. How the hell did he manage to find out that you were indeed a Government plant. And even more so...when!?" There comes a time for uncertainty, and then there's just being plain open-minded realism. Eastern rode with the latter like a fish to water in reply.

  "How much time have you got, Benny?" he requested, knowing full well that it was a loaded question. Given a platform to work on, he went about explaining that he'd had his suspicions for some time. 'In that my role in the 'heist' had been a calculated 'set up' from day one. And manufactured by person or persons unknown, either by monetory arrangement or had his suspicions for some time. 'In that my role in the 'heist' had been a calculated set-up from day one, and manufactured by person or persons unknown, either by monetory arrangement or a form of conspiracy. I'm also fully convinced that it's origin stemmed from the time that I spent 'banged up' in Foredown, whilst endeavouring to get Brezznov on side."

  This latest outburst had now left Simmons struggling with a consequential situation, knowing that his own input in the case could now be in jeopardy. "You certainly kept that bloody quiet for long enough, Mike. I'm beginning to think that my own cover has been blown apart. I just wish you had mentioned it beforehand." There was no doubting that Simmons, as a result of this latest information, now felt slightly vulnerable. And insisted on knowing the full extent of what relevant SP Eastern could be holding back. "You damned well owe me, Mike. Wer'e supposed to be in this shit together. So if you're in a position to implicate certain people and by that, I mean names then you had better come across with something a bit special. Like yourself, I intend to see this crock of shit through to the end." And added, "Not only that, Brezznov needs to know who he's damned well messing with.....right?"

  The habitual grin that he had now provoked from Eastern's face, sanctioned any negative doubts that Simmons might have held regarding their joint relationship. He listened intently as Eastern opened up. "In that case, 'B', cast your mind back to Foredown and think Donavon. What comes to mind?"

  "The closest thing to hell on legs will do for a start, although I could improve on that," retaliated Simmons, and continued his one-man assassination, "that man was one mean bastard as I recall. In fact, he always got what he wanted one way or the other....yeah, as 'screws' go he was one lousy assole to mess with." Smiling was beginning to become an epidemic as Eastern nodded his approval.

  "I have to say, Benny, that's a far better reference than I would have given him, but seriously, to my mind he is the crux of the matter. I strongly suspect that he overheard a conversation between Rogon and Governor Whiting regarding our covert internment. Then, armed with that crucial knowledge and the chance to get his 'holiday money'........"

  ".............he then approached Brezznov with his nest egg at the first opportunity,”

  “and the rest, as they say, is poxy grief on grief!" he interrupted. "On reflection," concluded Eastern, "when you stop to analyse it, it all begins to make sense now as to why the late Steadman was taken out the equation. It's bloody obvious to me now that the man knew more of what was going down, than what he was accredited for."

  "And, as result, the poor bastard paid for that with his life," echoed Simmons. A sustained silence ensued as they both drew on the past facts, leaving simmons to ask the sixty four dollar question. "So , with that in mind, where the hell do we go from here? And, more importantly, what would you advise as to our approach, based on the fact that Brezznov owes you a strategic call?" Briefly, he allowed a renegade hint of doubt to surface before adding, "assuming, of course, that you've read the current situation right?" Beyond that, any door that might have been left open to pursue further uncertainty to creep in, had now been slammed shut as far as Eastern was concerned. Indeed, his present thoughts were now jumping and clearing three hurdles in front of the game.

  "I've never been so sure of anything in my life as I feel right now, Benny. I'm convinced that there won't be any call in the immediate future, if at all. I can promise you that much. Brezznov, to my mind, has achieved what he set out to do, which includes 'fitting' me up. The writing was on the wall from the moment I handed my mobile over prior to the 'heist', but that's another story so I don't intend dwelling on that. As far as luck goes, and God knows we can use some. That much, I suspect, rests with the CCTV cameras."

  They say, and I quote...'there's luck and there's bad luck'. Unfortunately, the latter of the two could be found at a premium. After sifting meticulously through hours of footage, most of which had been obscured intentionally or completely blocked out, had left their exhaustive attempts to unravel any evidence, with nothing to show for it. Consoling the team didn't come easily, and led Eastern to remind them that the external footage had yet to be examined.

  From the moment that they started their investigation, it became abundantly clear that certain cameras, for want of a reason, hadn't been tampered with. After extensive scrutiny, one in particular actually highlighted the breakthrough that Eastern and the team had craved for. It was then left to a jubilant Simmons to break the news to Eastern, at his newly rented 'safe-house' a stone's throw away from the bank. "Mike? Yeah, you probably guessed. Listen, I'll make it short. You need to get your arse over to the bank a bit lively, but what I can tell you now is that it's all good news." He then hung up. Twenty or so minutes later, the pair could be found examining screen 'stills' depicting Brezznov, accompanied by Millington and Brandon, with yours truly taking up the rear. "Now this is the all-important one, Mike," stressed Simmons. "I want you to focus in on the security guard who's giving you access. Does the face mean anything to you?" he urged. Engr
ossed as he was, Eastern was left in doubt as to the figure's identity.

  "Absolutely, without question, Benny. In fact his name came out in conversation one time. The guy is called Peter Carroll and he happens to be the manager in charge of security at MITZITOMO. Tell me if I'm wrong, but haven't we already had the man in for questioning? Prior to him going missing that is." Simmons acknowledged his interest with an enthusiastic nod.

  "Yeah. Bang in order, and then for some unknown reason he gave himself up. And do you know what? The wanker promptly denied all knowledge that he was on the premises during the night of the 'heist'. The only other SP we have on him is purely basic. Apparently he's aged 41, married, and had been employed at the bank for three or four months. Incidentally," he added, "Carroll's references, when examined, all held water, would you believe?" Taking nothing for granted and bearing in mind the severity of the case, Carroll was brought back in for questioning once again. When confronted with the explicit external video evidence, he quickly reneged on his original statement by stating.

  "While under extreme pressure I found myself forced into a powerless situation from two 'faces', who made it quite clear that my wife would be hospitalised, or worse, if I didn't co-operate with them. And if I still refused to take their threat seriously I would be missing my knee caps." End of statement.

  Shortly after that, a member of the investigation squad came across another internal camera that had somehow been overlooked. As luck would have it, the footage it contained was found to be intact, and showed Carroll, along with Brandon and Brezznov, looking on as Millington worked on the keyboards. Insistent to the end, Carroll still refused to ID the 'firm' at work, when challenged. But finally relented under extreme pressure by stating, 'I think that one of the gang might have been French or Belgian.' He then refused to answer any more questions. Digging even deeper, the team discovered that Carroll's telephone records revealed that he had made a number of calls to Belgium. Investigating the alleged calls, they were told, could take some time to verify their content. So it was left to Rogon who decided, there and then, to contact INTERPOL with the exhibit video, in the event that Carroll's alleged 'foreigner' might show up on their records.

  The result, when it came back, proved to be invaluable in terms of enabling them to construct a profile consistent with the agency's case. Heading INTERPOLS findings also included a dossier relating to Millington which, amongst other things, gave his age as being thirty four, last known address, (in Paris), and claiming to be a respectable business man at that particular time. This evidence was later upturned by an update on their data base, showing that he was wanted in connection with fraud and handling fake ID documents. Beside Millington, a dated file included a reference to Brezznov's involvement, when dealing in black market diamonds, besides three conspiracy-to-murder charges. All of which were alleged to have been carried out in Holland. The file itself, was dated as being some six months prior to him being sent down for his role in the Hatton Garden diamond murder.

  Now, seated around a table at Spooks HQ, Eastern and Simmons had been summoned to air their views, thus far, in conjunction with Rogon's own enquiries. Meanwhile, prominent banking institutions around the world, held their breath in anticipation alluding to a monetory tsunami flooding their accounts. Head bowed and deep in thought, Eastern dismissed Rogon's invite for a drink, for the second time in as many minutes, with a controlled shake of his head. He recalled having had bad encounters with the Government issue coffee on previous occasions.

  As an outsider looking in, it would be fair to say that he was portraying a man suffering from collateral damage, mainly due to extreme frustration bordering on a non-negotiable impasse, regarding factual progress to the case.

  "Mike!" Recalling his own name didn't present am immediate problem, knowing what galaxy it stemmed from. It concerned another matter. "Mike! Wake up man,"

  Once again his name rang true. Only this time with added conviction attached, allowing his inquisitor to gain entry into his sub-conscious thoughts. Momentarily startled, Eastern glance upward in realizing that there was no escapism from reality. "Shit! I'm sorry guys, I was somewhere else for a minute." For his sake, it was left to Rogon to bring him back down to earth.

  "If I didn't know you any better, Mike, I'd have to confess that you're letting our man Brezznov take you over." In the end, he could have saved his breath as Eastern responded.

  "In a sense you're completely right, Rogon. Right now, he's so bleedin' close to me I can almost reach out and touch the bastard. And the irony of it all, is that he could well be a thousand miles away for all we know, seated around a swimming pool and giving it large." As a committed spectator, his views hadn't gone without notice, leaving Simmons to eagerly express his own singular views.

  "I hear what you say, Mike, but rest assured that every commercial airport in the country in on red alert as we speak. Trust me when I say that Brezznov is going nowhere!" Eastern gave out a token sigh of relief, but struggled to hide a lining of conjecture in his reply.

  "That's one consolation, Benny, although, knowing how he operates, I suggest that we check out private air strips as well. Remember, Brezznov has got a licence to print money at any given time, which gives him carte blanch to every availability open to him" Retaining his air of positivism, Rogon blissfully reminded the pair that the present state of play wasn't all one-way traffic, and dwelt on the agency's attributes to date.

  "Whatever happens, we mustn't lose sight of the fact that we can place the 'firm' entering and actually carrying out the 'heist' in the bank. Coupled, of course, with a threatening to cause GBH' charge where the security guard is concerned. And that is without a few other offences I could name."

  Let's not forget the Stowlowski murder, of course," Eastern hastened to add. "Which reminds me. Is there any connection between the victim and Carroll. Apart from the fact they were both employees. I'm thinking along the lines of co-conspirator here, or maybe I'm just clutching at straws."

  "I think that's wishful thinking, Mike, although Carroll certainly knows more than we give him credit for. With that in mind. I think we need to broaden our investigation into the case, as far as that is concerned. Incidentally, the Rotherhithe MIU haven't unearthed anything that's workable as yet. To my mind, I honestly feel that Brandon holds the key to the solution when searching for a murder-related link to Brezznov. Let's see if we can't get a trace on him...last known address...drinking habits...clubs pubs etc, even it means punting a 'mugshot' (photo) around. Somebody out there must know of him, and not necessarily for all the right reasons. They would be only to pleased to shop him. You can bet he's 'stitched up' enough underworld 'faces' in the past, being as he's an ex 'bent' cop. I'm rather hoping that this in turn, could well mean that those other two 'gorillas' (villains) I saw him doing business with in the pub that night, might, just find themselves a victim of circumstances by entering the equation."

  Shortly after the meeting, while participating in a kosher cup of coffee of his own making, Eastern made the decision to forego his 'safe house' electing, instead, to return to Hove. And the chance of a relaxing break for a couple of days, allowing the case to materialize, or not. Or, at least, that was the idea. On reflection he should have known better, and to have realized that the perpetual chain of office slung around his neck, was also attached to Rogon, who, for his part, had no intention of severing the link which, in this case, stretched all the way to the M23 at Godstone in Surrey, via his mobile.

  "You can go to hell!" seemed an appropriate answer at short notice, as Eastern identified the origin of the call. He ended by stating, "even a bleeden' Spook needs time out." Booting the accelerator, he cruised into the fast lane, intent on heading for Brighton.

  CHAPTER 14.Your Nicked!

  "Dependant on how important the call was, you have to say the man's got a damned nerve, Mike. Just because he's married to Whitehall, he must assume that we enjoy a prehistoric-style relationship. Personally, I wouldn't rush to call him bac
k." An indignant Joan was voicing her opinion in no uncertain terms at Rogon's latest impromptu call, in spite of him being in possession of the facts regarding Eastern's uncharacteristic arrangements.

  "I wouldn't stress yourself out on that score darling. I don't intend to." He paused to reflect on a sudden notion. "Do you know what, Joan?" The expression on her face belied the content in her reply.

  "Before I answer that, Mike, I'm beginning to get this feeling that we have had this sort of conversation before." Joan replied suspiciously.

  "I realize it might sound crazy, but in a strange way I actually feel sorry for the guy in a funny sort of way. Sometimes, I honestly think that all he wants is somebody to talk to, know what I mean?" His implication somehow got lost in translation as Joan summed up.

  "Oh! And here's little old me thinking he's been having an affair with a computer all these months, what do I know?" joked Joan. Little could she have known at the time, just how much her insensitive observation had a ring of truth attached to it. If she had stated 'fax machine' in lieu of 'computer', she would have been right all along, in a literal sense that is. What she couldn't have known, was that since Eastern's absence from HQ now reaching some forty-eight hours ago, Rogon's only source of comfort could be found to be lavished on a fax machine. Report after report had eked it's way through, each singular one revealing nothing of consequence relating to the 'heist'.

  Then things became interesting, as a fax, sent directly from a leading Singapore bank, stated that two men armed with a faxed letter of authority on MITZITOMO'S stationary, requested that the sum of eleven million pounds to be transferred from the account of a specific steel company to an account at another bank. Immediately, bank officials became suspicious of the deal involved, due to the amount of money that was involved. On investigation, the said money requested for the transfer, didn't appear to exist in the alleged steel company's account. Rogon's next move involved him collating information stemming from the fax sent to Singapore. On scrutiny, it transpired that the source of the document originated from copier printers outlet based in Eastleigh Hampshire. It was also revealed that the recipient of the fax at the time of presentation, came via two men. Armed with the information at hand. Rogon instructed Simmons to liaise with the local 'plod' at the copier shop, in an attempt to discover if any of the staff were in a position to possibly ID the perpetrators from selected 'mugshots'.