by Tom Benson
Five minutes later, the bearded man re-appeared alone. He got into the car and drove off. Helen watched until the vehicle had disappeared along the main road through Braemar, and then she went downstairs. There were only the maid and the chef in the house, so Helen went straight to the inner garage door.
26. Girl Power
.
Tuesday 13th July
BTL Enterprises, Glasgow
Scotland
Phil suggested a 10 am start. Annabel had agreed and sent out messages on Monday evening. All the team members were in attendance by 9:30 am, and Annabel downloaded recent photographs onto a laptop for viewing on the large screen.
On the right side of the square table once again were Phil and Annabel. On the opposite side were Rachel and Jake. Ian sat with his back to the window. All had notepads and coffee.
Annabel said. “I’m looking forward to what we can piece together today because I think we all have something to offer.” She turned to Phil, who nodded for her to continue, and then he lowered the screen over the panoramic window.
“Rachel,” Annabel said. “You can start us off.”
“You’ll all remember I told you about the murder of Joe Bremner in March. That was Max’s brother.” There were nods from all around the table. “The murderer was Peter Henderson, and the woman that Joe was seeing was Henderson’s ex-wife, Stephanie.” She looked across at Annabel.
“With the partial number plate I got, we confirmed Stephanie’s connection to Peter Henderson. The second note I found in Joe’s jacket helped. Our police contact got us access to traffic videotapes to trace Stephanie Henderson’s whereabouts using Joe’s bike’s movements.”
The others listened, nodding as the report was made.
“The day after Joe’s murder we got Stephanie into a safe-house. She managed to get a transfer from her city job with a travel agent, taking a new position with them in Clydebank.” Rachel inhaled and exhaled as she remembered the frustration of her most recent visit to Stephanie’s house.”
Rachel paused to look around her colleague’s faces before she continued.
“I’ve paid her regular visits to let her know we were watching out for her. We found out she was worried about her ex-husband trying to find her because he’s a vindictive piece of shit. If Peter Henderson can’t have her, he doesn’t want anybody to have her.” She paused. “Last week when I turned up, Stephanie had packed a case and gone.”
“Excuse me,” Ian said. “Why should we care about her welfare in particular?”
Annabel said, “We believe she knows things about her ex-husband’s associates and activities. As far as he’s concerned, she’s a loose cannon. One too many drinks or a decent pay-off, and she might blab about what Peter does, who he’s related to, etcetera.”
“We arranged Rachel to stay over at Stephanie’s new place one night. Rachel organised a takeaway meal and some wine, but her job was to remain focused while appearing to get drunk. It worked, and Stephanie opened up big time.”
Ian inclined his head towards Rachel. “Why am I not surprised you were good.”
Annabel went on. “Following up on the girls’ night in, Rachel met up with Max to confirm some of the things Stephanie had said. It looks like the bikers were offered some business deal by Henderson, which they refused.”
Jake said, “What was the deal?”
Rachel looked to Annabel before answering. “We believe Henderson has been working under orders from a bigger player. The bikers were expected to deal with drug distribution down to street level across the city. They would never meet anybody from higher up because dead-drop locations would be provided to pick up the gear.”
Jake nodded. “They would take the rap if everything went pear-shaped.”
Rachel nodded. “It also meant they would have to be very trusting about the quality of the merchandise they’d be supplying, and the payments they would receive.”
“So to get back to Stephanie,” Jake said. “What happened a few days ago?”
Rachel said. “I searched the safe house we put her into in Dalmuir, and apart from the lack of passport and a suitcase, there were no clues. I rode around the area and went to Clydebank. She had phoned in sick that morning, so she had planned to disappear.”
Phil said, “Given the family trait—having access to spare passports we were unsure if Stephanie could get out of the country before Peter Henderson found her. I think Stephanie is fortunate to have survived this long.”
Jake said, “So, we are assuming Henderson somehow got word to his ex-wife about the details of Joe, her biker boyfriend’s death, so it would frighten her into silence regarding activities of which she’s aware?”
“Yes,” Annabel said. “It looks like Stephanie’s disappearing act from her original apartment made Henderson suspicious, so he must have had people out looking for her.”
“No doubt,” Jake said. “He’ll have plenty of lowlifes on the street.”
Annabel said, “As it turns out, I have another piece of the puzzle. Yesterday, I had a meeting with our very reliable contact from Police HQ in Pitt Street. She was informed by a colleague in the Dunbartonshire Force, about a woman being abducted by two men in a black van between Dalmuir and Clydebank on Monday. It was a stolen van, which was later found torched.”
Rachel closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.
“Hey,” Annabel said. “You’ve got nothing to feel bad about Rachel. You played your part and more. We’re not talking about a little angel; she was a gangster’s wife.”
Phil said, “There was another snippet from our contact, wasn’t there?”
“Yes, there was,” Annabel said. “It seems the DCI in the Dunbartonshire HQ is aware of our involvement in the failed ambush out at Balloch. He’s told our contact he’s turning a blind eye for a few weeks to give us a chance. The DCI knows a power struggle or something is going on, but so far I don’t think he knows we have a rogue back on the patch.”
Ian said, “Does this detective know Fitzpatrick from the old days?”
“Yes,” Phil said. “The detective in question is Eddie Monroe. He was a DS on the Pitt Street team when Fitzpatrick got arrested.” Phil nodded towards Jake.
Jake lifted the remote for the projector. “I’ve got some pictures to brighten up the proceedings now.” He flicked the switch. An impressive picture of an ornate building with the backdrop of a blue sky appeared on the screen. “That is Stirling Castle, which you will all probably recognise.”
Everbody turned to see the images on the screen.
“Yesterday,” Jake continued. “I was able to follow Mental Mickey McGinley and an unknown associate of his from Glasgow, all the way to Stirling, where they had a meeting with a third man.”
Rachel said, “How did you manage to follow them all the way on a motorbike without raising suspicion with their driver?”
“Their driver knew I was there, a few vehicles to the rear,” He noted Rachel’s wrinkled brow. “The driver is our team probationer, Geordie Lavery. McGinley has taken a shine to him because he’s capable and dependable. Geordie was driving when they picked up the unknown man from Renfrewshire, who travelled with McGinley to the meeting.”
Rachel grinned and shook her head.
“This is McGinley and his associate just before they went into the castle,” Jake said and flicked the remote. “You can just see it’s McGinley by the scars and tattoos, but the other guy turned away. I’ve reduced my selection to a handful of pictures, and this one is the best.” He clicked again and brought up a clear shot. “From left to right is McGinley, his mystery friend in the smart shirt and trousers, and on the right is the guy who turned up to meet them—Gordon Fitzpatrick.”
Phil said, “Jake, zoom in on the mystery man’s face, please.”
Jake filled the screen with the stranger’s face as best he could. He looked around. “I managed to catch up with Geordie late last night, and he was able to give me two names. The first one is this guy, wh
om Geordie says calls himself Colonel.”
“Barrington-Cross,” Phil said as he stared at the enlarged photo on the screen. “Lieutenant Colonel Barrington-Cross, ex-Royal Lancers. He’s a complete arsehole.”
“Kentobi?” Annabel whispered and reached out to touch Phil’s arm.
He nodded. It was uncharacteristic of either her or Phil to display any affection, but this was a man who brought back disturbing memories. They were memories both Phil, and Annabel could do without.
Jake said, “How the hell do you know him?”
“I’ll explain shortly,” Phil said. “What was the other name Geordie got for you?”
“After the meeting, he drove McGinley and the Colonel back to the south side of Glasgow. The two in the back seat were whispering, and Geordie heard a name used a couple of times, but it wasn’t clear. McGinley was dropped off in Govan, and then the Colonel answered a call on his mobile phone. He raised his voice. The caller’s name was Kevin or Mac. Both names were used by the Colonel.”
Phil nodded and turned to look at Annabel. “It looks like the earth is kicking out worms from all over the bloody place.”
“Don’t tell me you know this Kevin person as well,” Ian said, wide-eyed.
“Unless I’m mistaken, it will be Kevin MacDonald,” Phil said. “He is a bent solicitor who was sent down at the same time as the rest of Hartley’s gang. He procured a lot of documents and other items for the gang hierarchy. It can’t be a coincidence. The names Kevin and Mac coming up together.”
Ian said, “May I take it that MacDonald was the gang’s legal representative if they got arrested?”
“Yes,” Phil said and nodded across the table. “Jake and Rachel raided the safe in his Glasgow office and found forged passports, large wads of various currencies and contact lists for some unpleasant people.”
Jake winced when he remembered how the night had ended. He turned sideways to look at Rachel, who was grinning. During their early tasks together, she had saved the day, on more than one occasion. She winked at him, and he shook his head.
“Before we go on,” Phil said. “For the benefit of all of you, I’ll explain how I know the man who calls himself Colonel.” He sipped the fresh coffee Annabel had placed in front of him.
“I was on a black op in Kentobi, Central Africa with an SAS team. During our assignment, a statesman was assassinated. My team didn’t carry out the hit, but the murder wrap fell to me. When we flew out to a neighbouring neutral country to fly home, I was interviewed by Barrington-Cross, who was then a liaison officer with the UN.”
He looked around the table, and every pair of eyes was on him, all of them knowing how it must have devastated him. He had been innocent and used as a scapegoat. Annabel knew the story better than most.
Phil continued. “I was flown back to the UK and given a choice of pleading guilty and going to prison for a few years, or I had to leave The Regiment and disappear.”
Having been rescued by members of the elite force, Ian could see why Phil had formed the BTL team and taken on the task of fighting injustice on his own terms.
“If you don’t mind me saying so Phil,” Ian said. “I think you’re doing the people of this country a greater service now than you could do with your hands tied.”
“Thanks, mate,” Phil said. “As you’ll appreciate, I didn’t take the decision lightly, but it is a team effort.”
Jake had been watching the man he considered a living, breathing, hero. He wanted to ask him something about the Kentobi affair but decided it wasn’t the time.
.
Braemar, Grampian Mountains
Scotland
The sky was cloudless and bright blue. A mild breeze carried the fragrance of pine from the nearby woodland. Gordon Fitzpatrick stood on the roof as he tended to do every morning, with a coffee in his hand. After the meeting with McGinley and Barrington-Cross, an amended plan was building in Fitzpatrick’s mind.
“Gordon,” Helen said, as she walked across the roof from the tower in the northeast corner. “Why am I not allowed down into the cellar rooms?”
“I’ll let you see them soon enough,” Fitzpatrick said without turning.
“It just seems wrong to me. Your security man can have access to every part of my house, but I can’t.”
“Norrie has certain privileges because he has to do special tasks for me.” He turned to look at his wife. “One day soon you’ll appreciate how useful he is to me.”
“Well it was me who found and organised the buying of this place for you,” she said. “I’d hardly got the utilities checked and the rooms cleaned out, and then I got a call to tell me he’d be paying a visit.” She stopped talking when her husband turned to look at her.
“Did he give you the codeword I told you to expect?”
“Yes, but—”
“Was he respectful in the way in which he spoke to you?”
“Yes,” Helen said, feeling the conversation slipping away from her.
“Did he give you the keys back after two months?”
“Yes, but the whole place had been renovated, and I never got the keys to the cellars again. There’s a door in the new garage that leads down there, and a door on the ground floor that leads down there too.”
“That’s because I don’t expect you to make casual visits to the cellars my dear.”
“Well, I’ve got access to your trophy and artefacts room, which has works of art displayed and they must be worth a fortune.”
He smiled. “The trophy and artefacts room is a bit different, and they are not your concern either.”
Helen had been a feisty young woman when she had caught her husband’s eye many years before. She’d loved the fact he was an up and coming gangster, but she hadn’t foreseen herself later reduced to eye-candy, and a puppet to tackle odd jobs.
“I’m going downstairs,” she said and strode across the roof.
“You are,” Fitzpatrick said. A statement—not a question. He turned to gaze at the mountains.
Helen stopped at the small tower after opening the door. “Gordon,” she said in a defiant tone. “Who was the woman taken down to the cellars yesterday?” She noticed her husband’s stance change slightly. His head raised and his body became erect.
He turned slowly. “Tell me more,” he said and squinted at his wife.
“A young man with a beard turned up here yesterday, pulled a woman out of a car and dragged her into the garage.”
“Why didn’t you ask him who the blonde woman was?”
“I watched from up here.” Helen realised, she didn’t mention hair colour. “I watched, and when the man drove off, I went down and looked in the garage. The Jaguar was missing because you had it, and the keys to the Range Rover were missing, but it was unlocked, so I searched both the car and the garage.”
“And you didn’t find the woman?”
“No I didn’t, but there were smears of blood on the door that leads to the cellars.”
“How unfortunate,” he said. “We’ll have to get the door cleaned.” He looked at his wife with the cold stare she’d seen many times before. The stare he gave a person who didn’t mean much to him.
“Oh, fuck you—Gordon.” She slammed the tower door behind her as she left the roof.
Fitzpatrick pulled out his mobile and dialled. It rang three times. “Norrie—begin divorce proceedings for me, please.” He slipped his phone away again and took a slow walk around the battlements, breathing deeply and trying to remember when he last had the company of a good woman.
It occurred to him he might bump into the red-headed young woman Janice, or the older and beautiful Angelina, whom he’d enjoyed coffee with at the Taste ... cafe. He smiled when he remembered she had written her number on a napkin but said not to call for at least a week. She’s a mysterious one, he thought. She also has a face and body I’d dearly like to see again—in private. “I think we’ll meet again after my deliveries, Angelique.”
.
BTL
Enterprises
Glasgow
Scotland
“Yes Eva,” Annabel said as she listened to her phone and lifted a forefinger to her lips momentarily.
Everybody at the table had already gone silent.
“Thanks,” Annabel said. “Be extra bloody careful, and continue to report to me daily. Ciao.”
“Something new?” Phil said.
Annabel placed her phone on the table and looked around at the expectant faces. “It seems Mrs Fitzpatrick was leaving the new home in a car a short while ago. She was apprehended somewhere along the exit track from the castle grounds. Somebody pulled out across the track in a 4 x 4, to prevent her leaving.”
“Have we got a description?” Rachel said.
“A big, bald, ugly guy pulled Mrs Fitzpatrick from the Jaguar. He then dragged her back along the track, but only after he’d silenced her with a hard slap across the mouth. Apparently, the guy was grinning.”
There were silent nods around the table.
27. Revelations
.
Thursday 15th July
Dumbuck House Hotel, Dunbartonshire
Scotland
“Hi,” DCI Monroe said, standing to kiss his lunchtime date on both cheeks.
“Hi Eddie,” Amy said. “This is a nice place when you want to be off the radar.”
“It looks even better—now you’re here.”
“Okay, okay—don’t overdo it.”
A waitress stopped at the table and took their orders for hot drinks. They made polite conversation until the woman returned a few minutes later with a large pot of tea for two. She nodded to the couple and left them again.
For a few minutes, while the waitress took orders nearby, the two detectives chatted about the weather and current affairs. When the coast was clear, Amy started talking about what concerned them both.
“I promised I’d keep you in the loop if you delayed reports about the ambush site.”