Before he could ask for more detail Aidan offered it.
“Harding said the rumours were that parts of The Baltics were turning into a sweetie shop, mostly for counterfeit meds. Something about being in The EU and free movement being the thing. They didn’t usually have problems with the people coming in but there were a lot of containers from there. He also said that the smugglers in The Baltics were working with someone here who was bringing the stuff in.”
Craig frowned. “Home-grown here or European migrants?”
“We pushed him on that. He said he had a feeling that they were ours. Gangs. Paramilitary he thought, although he didn’t know which side.”
Liam smirked. “Didn’t want to say more likely.”
Aidan shook his head. “No, he seemed pretty adamant on that. I honestly don’t think that he knew.”
Craig considered for a moment before speaking again. “So that’s Karl and this Harding both mentioning local paramilitaries now, but The Baltics link is a new one. Karl said Eastern Europe, and Ukraine is usually mentioned most for counterfeit meds not The Baltics.”
Liam shook his head. “Point of order, boss. We don’t know the meds are originating in The Baltics, they could be transiting there from somewhere else. Maybe Ukraine.”
“Good point, Liam, but if they originated in Ukraine they’d have to cross a border to enter the European Union. Ukraine isn’t in it.”
He turned to his analysts only to find that they’d predicted his next move and Davy had pulled up a map on his pad. Before he could use it Ryan signalled to speak again.
“I don’t know if this is relevant but I read something in the Irish Times last week about Estonia.”
Craig waved him on.
“OK, well, apparently some hit man from Estonia called The Butcher got involved in that big gang rivalry that’s going on in Dublin. You know the one where the families keep killing each other.”
Liam nodded slowly. “The Hutch-Kinahan feud.”
The D.S. snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Anyway, the article mentioned that there were gangs in Estonia. The Estonian mafia often go up against the Russians who live there. The paper described it as ex-soviet gang wars.”
Liam gave a slow whistle. “I wouldn’t want to get caught up in that fight.”
“Me neither. But this Butcher guy was brought over here by the feud and the Gardaí have locked him up in Mountjoy Prison. Not the first time he’d been in jail apparently.”
Craig thought for a moment before responding. “I hadn’t heard of Estonians getting up to anything here but it’s worth a look.”
Sensing that he was about to move on Ryan spoke again. “I did some digging after I read it, and it turns out that some Lithuanian smuggling gangs established links with IRA cigarette and fuel smugglers around the millennium as well.”
Craig turned to his senior analyst. “Add those to your list of searches, Davy.” Gesturing to his smart-pad he added, “And project that map on to the screen, please.”
A moment later Craig was standing alongside it, encircling the three Baltic countries with a light-pen.
“OK. The Baltic States. For anyone who hasn’t been there, go. They’re beautiful, especially Tallinn, the Estonian capital.” When he moved down through Belarus to Ukraine, Mary piped up.
“You should go there too. It’s a brilliant place to backpack.”
As she said it Liam’s heart leapt to his throat, thinking of his own children ever travelling that way. Mary was tiny, and so slight that she would have made a perfect light snack for a predator; she must have been insane, even he wouldn’t even have chanced it if he’d been a smaller man. He added backpacking to the list of things his kids were never ever going to be allowed to do while he still had a pulse and then listened back in as Craig went on.
“OK. The quickest access between Ukraine and the EU is through Poland, Hungary, Slovakia or Romania, not The Baltics. To get to any of the Baltic States from Ukraine would require travel through Belarus, Poland or Russia, and what would be the point of that when Poland’s already a gateway to the EU?”
He turned to his senior analyst. “Davy-”
“You’d like us to check it out anyway.”
“Please. But don’t spend too much time on it. If you find anything connecting Ukrainian drug smuggling with The Baltics then follow it, but if not leave it alone.”
Annette signalled to speak. “We have quite a few people living here from The Baltics, sir. Lithuania especially. Near Cookstown.”
“You’ve just read my mind.” He glanced at Ryan, Andy and Aidan in turn. “OK, three musketeers. I want you to look into the Baltic community living here to see what you can find.”
Aidan frowned. “Like what? The rumours Harding heard were about local gangs not immigrants, and they’re hardly going to just confess to running drugs, are they?”
Craig gave a loud tut. “Don’t be thick, Aidan. I’m not asking you to march in and start throwing them against a wall! Be subtle and get some background information. Ask the names of their community leaders, churches, etcetera-”
Annette spoke again. “There’s a D.C.I. in Cookstown who works closely with the minority communities there. She might be able to give you a steer. Her name’s Fliss Kehoe.”
Liam burst out laughing. “Fliss? She sounds like some sort of cleaning fluid.”
The D.I. rolled her eyes at him. “I call her Fliss because I trained with her, you big nit, but it’s Felicity to you.” She turned back to Craig. “She’s done a lot of good work down there and she has her ear to the ground.”
“Good, that’s useful. OK, you three, pay her a call. And be sensitive, please. At the moment the overseas drug link is just rumour so no thundering in. Diplomacy.”
Liam smirked superiorly. “They don’t know how.”
That made even the easy-going Andy scoff. “You can’t even spell the word!”
Craig ended the squabble by turning back to his analysts.
“Davy, you were looking into Derek Smyth for us.”
The analyst darkened the screen with, “I have a question for Doctor Marsham before I st...start.”
Des sat forward curiously. “Fire ahead.”
“Was there anything on that switchblade the chief found?”
It took the forensic lead aback; he’d completely forgotten to mention the blade earlier on.
“Yes, sorry. There was blood on the blade and prints on the handle.”
Craig was relaxed about the omission, already knowing that the weapon hadn’t played any part in Derek Smyth’s death. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t curious so he waited to hear what came next.
“The only prints on it were Smyth’s but the blood wasn’t his, although it did belong to a man.”
Liam cut in cheerfully. “Sounds like our Vic did onto others what they’d done onto him.”
Craig added. “Or before they did it onto him again.”
Des chuckled. “Very biblical, I’m sure.”
It gave Craig an idea. “I don’t suppose you could identify the blood, Des?”
“Not unless you want me to test every man stabbed in Mahon over the past four years.”
Hardly.
Although...
Craig turned back to his analyst. “Could you pull the medical records of any stabbings from Mahon, Davy?”
“S...Sure, that’ll be easy. Then what?” He answered his own question. “Ah...you want me to check their names against membership of a prison gang.”
“Got it in one. The odds are if Smyth used the blade in a fight it was with a rival gang member.”
Even Liam was impressed. “Clever. Find out who Smyth’s gang enemies were and we might find out why he died. Although there’s no guarantee that blood will be anything to do with a drugs dispute, boss. Smyth might just have stabbed some scrote for nicking his bread roll at lunch.”
“We won’t know until we look. Davy, while you’re doing that, find out whatever you can about gangs at M
ahon.”
The analyst’s almond shaped eyes became circles. “You want me to go into the field?”
It brought Craig up short and he realised he’d forgotten that he wasn’t talking to a cop. He gave a contrite smile.
“Sorry, I got carried away there. Just pull the stabbing records first thing tomorrow and get the names to us before we head down to Mahon. We can take it from there.”
They all heard the analyst’s gulp of relief, even though Liam’s immediate, “Ach, boss” protest was loud.
“What are you ‘ach-boss’ ing me for?”
The D.C.I. pulled a face. “There could be a hundred names to check out!”
“So? Do you have a better plan?”
Liam was considering the possibility when Des spoke again.
“I might be able to narrow it down for you.”
Craig nodded him on.
“I could pull the blood group off the blade sample, and they’re bound to keep records of those in the prison medical files. In case someone’s badly injured.”
Craig smiled; he hadn’t fancied checking out a hundred names either, although he’d never have told his deputy that.
“Great. You and Davy work to narrow it down tomorrow morning and let us have the final list as soon as you can. Let’s just hope that a rare blood group makes it a short list.”
Davy looked at his smart-pad again.
“OK. W...Will I tell you what I found out about Smyth?”
“Just the highlights, please. Time’s getting on.”
John nodded. “And there’s a drink at The James with my name on it.”
Liam’s retort was as fast as a whip. “Yeh, Blue Nun.”
Craig almost spat out the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken, and only when the inevitable laughter had subsided did Davy finally get to his report.
“OK, w...well. Ash took Smyth and I took the SIM. We’re still working on both, but so far we can tell you that Derek Smyth had been a member of various Loyalist paramilitary groups since he’d left school.”
Liam scoffed. “His parents must have been so proud.”
“Not so much. He’d been in and out of prison since he was nineteen and in trouble long before that. His first few prison sentences were suspended, but they were for w...woundings, assaults, and criminal damage to a Catholic church.”
“Definitely not a mass-goer then.”
Craig stepped in. “Wounding and assaulting who, Davy?”
“Always Catholics. Two youth-workers, a Gaelic Football coach and a nationalist politician.”
It brought a sigh from everyone there; all of them sick to the teeth of the pathetic sectarian rivalries in their country, regardless of which side they originated from.
Craig shrugged, deciding to be pragmatic about Derek Smyth’s depressing litany.
“OK, so after Smyth hit nineteen he spent eighteen of his remaining thirty-one years doing time all over the north. His longest sentence was s...six years in Magilligan. He was also in Maghaberry three times and Mahon twice.”
Annette rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t very good at being a criminal, was he? That’s only thirteen years freedom since he was nineteen.”
Liam made a rewind motion. “Hang on. Let’s go back a bit. Tell me about the groups Smyth was in.”
“UKJ, UKUF, Sons of The Boyne and a local version of Combat 18, a neo-nazi group. Hence the C18 and SS tattoos. I also found this footage of him on the web.”
He tapped his pad twice and a video appeared on the TV screen, showing Derek Smyth dressed in a Nazi uniform and giving its characteristic straight-armed salute.
“There’s lots more footage of him making racist comments... and...” He glanced apologetically at the women present, “....other stuff too.”
Craig nodded. It was sadly predictable and unfortunately might widen their murder suspect pool even as they were trying to narrow it down.
Liam snorted. “I bet that bugger had never met anyone he didn’t want to offend.”
“Except the governor. He seemed to have fooled Royston into believing he was inoffensive.”
As Craig spoke he began to write on the whiteboard again.
“OK, so our victim was a far-right racist and a staunch Ulster Loyalist, but I don’t imagine that he was alone in being those inside Mahon, and it would be too easy for us to assume that was the motive for his death. We need to follow the breadcrumbs we’ve found so far and I want everyone to keep the following in mind when they’re investigating.”
He scribbled up a capital ‘A’.
“A: If Smyth held extreme views then did he belong to a grouping or gang at Mahon who shared them? If so, what position did he hold in that gang? B: Was Smyth in direct conflict with someone? Did his gang have traditional enemies at Mahon that they fought with, and why? Was it on the basis of ideology, e.g. Republican versus Loyalist-“
Mary cut in. “Or far-right versus far-left?”
Annette shook her head. “Normally any opposite would work, but far-left people tend not to hang about in gangs.”
Craig wasn’t so sure, as she realised when he kept writing. “I agree the far-left is less likely to be found at Mahon, Annette, but we can’t dismiss it out of hand. What about extreme Eco-warriors? Haven’t they ever been violent? Let’s keep it on the list. OK, moving on. If the conflict wasn’t about ideology, was Smyth’s gang up to something else that gained them enemies? And what might it have been? Drugs are the obvious go-to, but again, we can’t be lazy, so think hard and ask your informants. Liam and I will hopefully get some answers soon, but I want all of you to keep digging.”
‘Informant’ was accompanied by a glance at Liam that said they would be paying Tommy Hill a call. Craig set down the marker and motioned his analyst on.
“We’re looking into Smyth’s family as well, chief. S...So far there isn’t much but I’ll keep digging. We also managed a start on the SIM.”
He tapped his pad again and a list of numbers appeared on the screen. “The SIM was purchased in the middle of this year, with cash and unregistered before you ask, and these were the calls. All outgoing, all made since September, and none lasted for more than five s...seconds.”
Craig sat up straight. “September? That’s when the stickers built up on his calendar.”
“I know, and I’m looking for links. OK, there were no incoming calls ever registered to that number according to the phone provider, but really that’s what you’d expect. It would have been hard for Smyth to ensure the handset w...was in his possession at the exact time to facilitate a contact, and a guard might have been around when it rang and then the game w...would’ve been up.”
Aidan interjected. “I’m surprised he kept the SIM more than six months without swopping it out - to avoid there being much info on it if the guards did discover it. That’s what the street dealers and girls used to do when I was in Vice.”
Craig could see his logic, but access was the issue. “It would be a lot easier for them to get hold of fresh SIMs than someone in prison.”
Aidan smirked. “Where there’s a will, etcetera.”
Davy picked things up again, giving his pad another tap. “This is the call list from S...September enlarged.”
The screen suddenly looked crowded.
“It looks like that was when it all began.”
Annette asked what everyone else was thinking. “All what, sir?”
“That’s what we need to find out. Go on, Davy.”
“OK, so, here are the numbers called, all mobiles, but this is the frequent flyer.” He highlighted a number in red and a second later the colour had swept through most of the list. “There’re two other numbers too, again five second calls. Unfortunately they’re all pay-as-you-go numbers. Burner phones. S... So any chance of finding out who owns any of them is slim, and geo-location of the phones will be impossible if the SIMs and batteries are out. ”
He scrolled down the list for a moment and then swopped screen to display a series of blurred
images.
“These photos were s...saved to the SIM as well, but I’ve blurred them because most are obscene. They include pornographic images of legal s...sexual practices and some others that are illegal.”
“In what way?”
“Animals mainly. Bestiality.”
There was a communal groan of disgust as he carried on.
“None of the people involved in the acts are Derek Smyth, and the backgrounds don’t look like the pics were taken inside a prison, so they may just have been s...sent to our man.”
Ash jumped in. “I’m trying to trace their origins and if I do I’ll pass them on to Vice.”
Craig asked another question.
“May have been sent? How else could Smyth have accessed them?”
In response Davy tapped again and a series of saved documents appeared.
“OK, although the SIM was mostly phone there was data capacity on it as well, and someone had used it to s...surf the net. I’ve got a list of URLs to go through, so hopefully we’ll get something useful there, and maybe the porn images were downloaded from one of those. But Smyth might have got the pics by text and saved them, or he might even have had an email account because there are some word documents on here that we haven’t been able to open yet and I can’t s...see how he’d have written them-”
Liam cut in. “He was doing a computer class at Mahon.”
The analyst’s eyes widened. “Was he? OK, well I’ll look into that, although I imagine their security would be pretty tight. But whether Smyth wrote or downloaded the docs he had the sense to password protect them, so getting more detail could take a while. I don’t want to rush it in case we wreck the files.”
Craig nodded. “Take your time.”
‘But I want them urgently’ was the unspoken subtext.
“Whatever you find, Davy, unless it’s relevant to our murder pass it on to Vice. We don’t have time to explore Smyth’s perversions.”
Liam interjected. “Unless they got him killed.”
“There’s always that. OK, everyone, we’ll wrap up for now but I need everyone on their game tomorrow bright and early.”
Everyone heard the urgency in his voice, but what not all of them understood was why he was in such a rush. After all, Derek Smyth wasn’t going anywhere, and if his murderer was an inmate at Mahon then neither was he. But Craig had got to be the boss by listening to his gut and right now it was telling him that something was about to kick off. Pangea had proved that the appetites and methods for acquiring counterfeits existed in Northern Ireland, Derek Smyth’s mode of death said that at least one drug-dealers’ sophistication had advanced, and the dead man’s wall calendar implied that something big was coming. They had no time to mess about.
Crossing The Line Page 16