The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird

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The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird Page 19

by L M Krier


  ‘So, Mike, you in a car on Edgeley Road, please. Hopefully somewhere you can keep an eye on both entrances. Sal, you take Edgeley Fold, and the same thing applies. Maurice, you get Dale Street. Steve, Cheadle Old Road end. Sykes Meadow entrance. Jo, that leaves you, me, Virgil and Rob on foot in the park.

  ‘Thanks to talk of the porn films having loosened Zofia’s tongue a bit, we know roughly whereabouts they usually meet up and it’s not that far from the basketball area. Sharon – PC Andrews, for those who don’t know her – is bringing Zofia, again fairly early on, then she’s also going to be running as her cover, so she’s an extra reliable pair of hands. And she’s a sprinter, too, so that could be useful.

  ‘We all need to stay in constant touch. Keep our eyes open for anything at all out of the ordinary. Above all, no heroics. From anyone. Is that clear?’

  There were nods and murmurs of assent. Virgil was the one who risked replying. He still had vivid memories of having to grab hold of the boss on top of a church tower to stop him from falling.

  ‘Same goes for you, boss. No heroics this time.’

  PC Sharon Andrews let Ronnie out of her car near to one of the entrances, then went to park her vehicle. She knew the chances of her trying to make a run for it were slim, knowing as she did that officers were watching every entrance into the park, as well as being dotted around inside it.

  Ronnie had been thrilled to find she would be wearing a wire. She didn’t know that there would only be contact between her and Ted. She would be on a different channel to the rest of the operation. The many television programmes she watched had given her a somewhat unrealistic idea of what her role was going to be. They couldn’t risk her saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and blowing the whole operation.

  Sharon had been impressed with how patient the DCI had been in explaining to Ronnie that he didn’t want to do anything which might put her in danger. He’d gone over and over her cover story with her to make sure she wasn’t likely to say anything to give the game away.

  ‘Whatever else you do, Zofia, trust me, please. We have to make it look realistic out there in order to protect you. Which means that you’ll also be arrested, along with anyone else who turns up. You’ll be taken back to the station and processed just like everyone else. Charged and interviewed. But while they’ll be remanded in police custody, you’ll be slipped quietly out of the back door when all’s clear and taken back to the safe house for now.’

  ‘Ain’t I going to Southampton?’ she demanded.

  Hats off to the DCI that he didn’t show in his face or his voice what a stupid question it was. He just carried on in the same even tone.

  ‘Your new destination is a long way down the road yet, I’m afraid. There are legal processes which have to be gone through before we can arrange anything at all. As I told you, you will have to testify but you will be protected and your identity can be concealed if necessary for your safety.

  ‘Just remember, don’t do anything at all to draw suspicion to yourself. Behave as you normally would if you were being arrested. But please remember, you can trust me.’

  As Ted started his slow, steady circuits round the park, he hoped Zofia would trust him and wouldn’t blow the whole thing by her reactions. He was taking a big gamble with her and he knew it. But it was still their best chance of finding any of the others.

  The one thing Ted hadn’t yet told her was that Kane was dead. If she’d known about his death, especially if she’d got wind of how he died, there would have been no chance of her agreeing to any of this.

  Ted watched as Zofia walked to the bench where she told them they usually met up. There was no one occupying it. She slouched on the seat, mouth open, chewing gum, hands thrust deep into the pockets of the jacket she was wearing against the stiff breeze.

  She and Ted didn’t so much as look at one another as he lapped her for the first time. Sharon Andrews was also running circuits but in the opposite direction. Going much faster than he was. Ted wondered how long she could keep that pace up. They exchanged the complicit smiles of two athletes training. Nothing in that to arouse anyone’s suspicions.

  Next he passed Virgil and Jo, shooting some hoops. Jo was surprisingly good. Having six children, several of them sporty, clearly kept him on his toes. They were enjoying themselves. Laughing and joking. Anyone watching would see two friends letting their hair down together, mucking about, being kids again.

  Rob was sitting on a bench not far away, eyes glued to his mobile phone. He looked up occasionally, as if waiting for someone. To a casual onlooker he looked like someone whose date was either running late or had stood him up.

  ‘Looks like Sarwar and Lauren are just turning into the entrance now.’ Mike’s voice through one of the earpieces Ted was wearing. They were all in constant contact. ‘No signs of anyone with them who could be Data. Just the two of them. Positive ID on Sarwar. The girl looks like the one from the stills at the flat.’

  ‘Let them come in,’ Ted told them. ‘They’re not that late and we don’t want to show our hand too early. We want to give Data time to turn up, if he’s coming. Anyone got eyes on a possible for him?’

  ‘Sir, I’ve got a single male youth approaching Sykes Meadow along Cheadle Old Road from the direction of Mountfield Road. A possible for Data but cannot confirm at the moment.’

  ‘Keep us posted, Steve. I have a possible person of interest.’

  Ted had spotted a man walking his dog. Nothing unusual about that. But there was something about the way the man moved and held himself which had caught Ted’s attention. In his Specialist Firearms days, he’d done a lot of training alongside military personnel. His main trainer, Mr Green, had been ex-Army. Special Forces. The man he could see ahead of him, walking a large dog towards him on a tight lead, moved in a specific way which instantly caught his attention.

  He was wearing black combat trousers with a matching field jacket. Black military boots. He could have been an off-duty police officer or fire officer with a service dog, giving it a quiet weekend walk. The way the brute lunged towards Ted as he ran past immediately told him he wasn’t. The dog would have failed the temperament test. The handler jerked it back to heel with such force that it yelped and cringed. The man spoke harshly to it in a language Ted didn’t recognise. Then he went back to talking through his mobile phone headset, seemingly in the same language.

  Ted sidestepped as the dog reacted. Made a pretence of stumbling to give himself some time to observe. The man merely lifted a hand in apology but carried on walking and talking. Ted turned to check his line of sight. The man’s eyes were fixed on the bench where Zofia was sitting waiting, looking up now as she’d caught sight of Lauren and Sarwar, heading her way.

  ‘Steve. Update, please. Is it Data? Where is he?’

  ‘Still walking towards the Sykes Meadow entrance, sir. I still can’t say definitely if it’s Data or not. Oh, hang on a minute. There’s a black 4x4 just coming up behind him. It’s slowing down near him.’

  There was a pause then, ‘Shit! Whoever it was has got in it and the 4x4 is driving off at speed.’

  ‘Get the number, Steve, and go after them, but stay well back. Mike, you go too. I want to know where that vehicle goes, but do not put yourselves at risk.

  ‘Rob, you follow the bloke in black, with the big dog, who’s just gone past me. Same thing. See where he goes but don’t get too close. The dog’s nasty. If he gets in a vehicle, get the number but don’t try to follow, unless it’s anywhere near where your car is parked.

  ‘Sal, Maurice, get round to Edgeley Road. Make sure Lauren and Sarwar don’t make a run for it. Sharon, Zofia’s your responsibility. Keep your eyes on her. Don’t let her slip away. Jo, Virgil, with me. Let’s lift Lauren and Sarwar while we have them in our sights. I’ll arrest Zofia, so we don’t blow her cover. I still have eyes on her and the other two have just joined her. Go!’

  In the few short moments between the other two walking up to her and Ted’s team hitting the
m, it was clear from Ronnie’s behaviour that they had told her immediately that Kane was dead. Probably even something about the way in which he had died.

  Virgil made straight for Sarwar Dabiri. The lad was neither large nor very bold. He didn’t even try to run as he saw Virgil’s big black bulk bearing down on him. He stood petrified, like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights, as Virgil arrested and handcuffed him.

  Lauren, the as yet unknown one, at least put up something of a fight, kicking, clawing and swearing like a fishwife as Jo tried to get a hold on her without getting himself injured.

  Ronnie rounded on Ted as soon as she saw him approaching her, no doubt feeling betrayed.

  ‘You lying bastard ...’ she spat.

  Ted barked, ‘Shut up!’ at her then, as he forced her arms none too gently behind her and reached for his cuffs, he put his mouth close to her ear and breathed, ‘Shut up and trust me.’

  Steve was driving as fast as he dared after the 4x4. Sundays were not a good day for a car chase. All the older weekend drivers seemed to be out and about in force. Driving slowly and sedately in the middle of the road, making it impossible to pass. Creeping timidly out of side turnings then stopping in their uncertainty. Steve was having to do a lot of swerving and was also doing more swearing than was normal for him.

  He was on the radio to the station, giving details of the vehicle he was pursuing, and the direction it was travelling in, and asking, more in hope than anticipation, for any available units to assist. He wasn’t surprised to hear there was currently little chance. Nor that the registration number he’d quoted didn’t fit the model of vehicle he was pursuing. They were cloned.

  Mike was liaising with him, trying his best to find a route to get ahead of the fleeing 4x4, so far without success.

  It was clear to both of them that the vehicle was being driven by someone who knew what they were doing and knew every inch of the backstreets into which it kept disappearing from their sight.

  They had to abandon pursuit when Mike almost pulled out of a side-street into Steve’s path, both of them hitting the brakes so hard they left marks on the road.

  They both got out of their vehicles at the same time, Mike looking in surprise as Steve kicked viciously at one of his car’s front tyres and swore again.

  ‘The boss isn’t going to be pleased I lost them,’ Steve said, his expression glum.

  ‘We’ve lost them for now, Steve. That’s all. The description’s being circulated. Someone will spot them sooner or later. It’s not the end of the world. Come on, we best head back to the station and see if the others at least rounded up the two stragglers, even if Data’s given us the slip for now.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Data was walking along Cheadle Old Road, heading for one of the entrances to the park. Head down, hood up, hands deep in his pockets. Despite appearances, he was alert and watchful.

  It had been a surprise to get the sudden contact from Ronnie after more than a week of radio silence from her. She must have had his text to arrange the last meeting because her message gave the number of the next park on the list. It could be that she’d simply been too scared to show up. Maybe she’d had the feds on her tail and had been clever enough to steer clear until the heat died down. He doubted it, though. He’d never had her down for the sharpest knife in the drawer. Lauren was the clever one amongst them. She was as bad as any of them – worse than some – yet she’d always managed to stay one step ahead of the law so she didn’t yet have a record.

  He wasn’t planning to go straight to their usual bench. He wanted to have a good look round before he went anywhere near, to check for anyone watching. He hadn’t passed any suspicious-looking vehicles on the way, but he didn’t plan on taking any chances.

  He was instantly wary when a black 4x4 came purring up from behind and slowed to a crawl next to him. His first instinct was to run for it, suspecting it was an unmarked police vehicle. Despite himself, he had to turn his head and look. The rear nearside window was gliding down and Data found himself looking at the dwarf in the mirrored glasses who’d confronted them in the park a few days ago.

  All his flight and survival instincts were screaming at him to run. But Data’s eyes were transfixed by the menacing black eye of a pistol in the small man’s hand, pointing unwaveringly straight at him.

  The dwarf’s voice was almost pleasant as he said, ‘Get in, Data. There’s a police reception committee waiting for you, in force. And the Big Man doesn’t want you falling into their hands. Get in. Now.’

  Data’s hand was trembling as he reached out to open the door. As soon as he slid on to the leather seat and pulled the door shut behind him with a soft clunk, he heard the unmistakable sound of the central locking being applied. He knew instinctively that there would be no way he could open the side door from inside the vehicle, which was now speeding away.

  ‘You made the right decision, Data,’ the short man told him. The gun was still in his right hand but he now laid it casually across his leg so it was no longer pointing straight at Data. The sinister white stick, with its deadly blade inside, which Data had seen on their last encounter, was propped up against the seat.

  Up close, Data could see that the man’s torso was of average size, but all four limbs were disproportionately short. So much so that his legs stuck out in front of him, his thighs not long enough for him to be able to bend his legs at the knee where the seat ended.

  ‘Very soon, I expect us to pick up a trail by the filth. But don’t concern yourself about that. Igor here is very good at his job. He can lose any tail, anywhere. And don’t worry, we can talk freely in front of him. He doesn’t speak English. His name’s not Igor, either. That’s just my little joke.’

  The short man laughed at his own humour. ‘So relax, young Data. You’re in good hands. Our orders are to keep you safe at all times. Because you have unfinished business with the Big Man, don’t you?’ There was a sudden note of menace in the way he said it.

  ‘We couldn’t get the gear back from the flat. We tried, but the feds were all over the place.’

  Data was ashamed to hear how wobbly and whiny his voice sounded, even to his own ears. ‘But I’ve got some money for the Big Man. Safely stashed. From stuff I sold in the clubs. Only I didn’t know how to get it to him, with Kane gone. He was our only link.’

  ‘Good boy. That’s what we like to hear. That’s why the Big Man wanted you kept safe from the police’s little trap. You’re not as clever as you think you are with your silly amateur tracking devices. But you’re still a valuable asset. Kane and any of the other lame-brains are good enough for selling a bit of skunk on street corners.

  ‘But you, Data, with your looks and the way you speak. You can get into the posh places, to push the good stuff. And that makes you priceless. That and your performance in the films. Especially swinging both ways at will. You look like you’d happily fuck a corpse when you’re hyped up like that. He likes that. He even thinks it would add a little something to a future film. Snuff movies make seriously big money.’

  The man’s arms were so short he had to lean sideways to run the back of his hand suggestively down the side of Data’s face. The gesture sent a chill through his whole body. He instinctively clutched himself with a desperate hand, convinced he was about to piss his pants in fear. The man saw the reaction and laughed.

  ‘Calm down, little Data. My brief is to deliver you safely, and I’m going to do that. As we get nearer to where we’re going I’m going to have to do the boring thing of getting you to lie on the floor while I put a bag over your head. Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. The rule always is, the less you know, the safer you are. So at the moment you can relax. I promise you, you’re safe. For now.’

  The team were all back in the main office, heading gratefully to make hot drinks. They were in generally high spirits. Apart from Steve, who was quieter even than usual and looking like a whipped puppy. Ted found time to go over to him and have a quiet word.


  ‘Don’t worry about it, Steve. We weren’t geared up for a car chase. My fault. I took Zofia at her word that none of them would come by vehicle. I should have considered the possibility that someone else might be transporting them. Drugs may very well be pleased we let one go.

  ‘Do you think it was Data, from the stills? The one who got into the vehicle.’

  ‘I wish I could say for sure, sir. I didn’t really get much of a look at him before he got in the vehicle. And I’m really sorry I lost him.’

  ‘Seriously, not your fault. We weren’t prepared for high-speed pursuit so it was a lost cause. Get your notes written up and make sure you include every detail you can think of about the lad who might have been Data. And of anyone in the vehicle. What can you tell me about that?’

  ‘Male driver, and it looked like a single male passenger in the back seat. Data, if it was him, got in the back, too. It all happened very quickly.’

  ‘Got in voluntarily?’

  ‘It seemed that way, sir. No one got out to force him in or anything. But like I say, it was very fast. Sorry.’

  Ted’s plan was to let some of the team go, as soon as they’d written up their notes. For once, he was including himself in those taking some time off. Jo would be in charge for the rest of the day so he went to discuss things with him.

  ‘A partial success at least. I’d have liked to get Data, of course, but we still might. Unless Drugs decide otherwise.

  ‘Keep an eye on Steve, won’t you? He’s beating himself up about it, as usual, and it’s not his fault. At least now that we have the elusive Lauren we can get her prints and run those against the ones found in Abigail’s flat. If we can place her inside there, we’ve got something to charge her with, at least.

  ‘I’m intending to knock off as soon as I’ve finished speaking to Zofia. I did promise Trev I’d try to get home at a decent time.’

  ‘Why don’t you get off now? One of us can talk to her easily enough. There’s four of us on the rota and only two of them who need interviewing. We’ll question them at length then stick them with a holding charge and remand them in police custody overnight, as we discussed. Is that still the plan?’

 

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