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Reflex Action

Page 26

by Andrew Heasman


  “I’d need to let them know when and where, but I don’t see why not.”

  “OK, go ahead and arrange it with them,” said the DI.

  Doug contacted the Technical Services Department and arranged for them to trace the imminent call to the suspect phone number, and to record anything that was said.

  “Here, I’ll use this phone,” Colin said, as he took a mobile from his desk drawer. “This one’s got caller withheld on it. We don’t want to spook him too much.”

  After checking everybody was ready, Colin dialled the number. It rang for what felt like minutes. Eventually it was answered. There was a pause, and then a questioning voice said, “Hello? Hello? Who is this?”

  Colin remained silent. He cut the call immediately. The blood drained from his face as he instantly recognised Superintendent Mitchelson’s voice. There was no doubt in Colin’s mind, Mitchelson was the leak.

  To Doug, he said, “OK, is everything recorded in your file?” Doug nodded. “He’ll probably ditch the mobile now that he’s had a suspicious call on it. He’ll, no doubt, try to cover his tracks so we’re gonna need every bit of evidence from the Tech Department too. Best you leave everything with me; I’ll take it from here. Remember, mum’s the word until it’s passed to the relevant authorities, alright?”

  “It’s just between us,” replied Doug.

  As Doug left the room, Colin drifted off into thought again. This new information put a whole new perspective on matters. Yes, he and Matt had slipped information to the criminal fraternity; they had crossed the line, but for morally correct reasons. However, Mitchelson had warned Petrov that we were coming for him, he had given specific details, and as a result of his actions, Malachi was dead, as were both of the Karpov Brothers. Had Mitchelson known about PC Griffiths being kidnapped too? Had he even been complicit in his murder? And had he been involved in arranging the assassination of Petrov outside the police station? Colin would never have thought any of it was possible, but today had been a day of revelations. He sat stunned, rooted to his seat.

  The more he thought about it, the more complicated matters became. How long had this arrangement been going on for? Mitchelson and Petrov had both initially worked in London - had it been going on back then? Suddenly another thought spun Colin’s mind. Could Mitchelson have been responsible for their covers having been blown when they were infiltrating Petrov’s gang in the capital? There had always been rumours of a leak from within the Drug Squad, but nothing had ever been proved. Was Mitchelson the leak, even back then?

  Chapter 41

  It was a little before 6pm, and Matt Carmine was just about to sit down to a meal of chicken and chips, when there was a knock on his front door.

  “Bloody hell, why now?” he mumbled under his breath.

  He found Colin standing on his doorstep, a worried expression on his face. Without any preamble, he walked in, heading for the kitchen.

  “We’ve got a problem!” he said to Matt as he passed him in the hallway.

  As Matt stood, picking at his chips, Colin continued, “Petrov was shot this morning outside the police station.”

  “Yeah, I saw it on the news. What a shame,” Matt said, sarcastically.

  “But what you probably don’t realise is that the killer was some scrote from Liverpool with connections to the drug gangs.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  “Nothing! He was shot dead by an AFO.”

  “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it? It’s a nice tidy conclusion,” said Matt.

  “Yeah, but now questions will be asked. Like, how did the gunman know that Petrov was about to divulge information on the drugs syndicate? Specifically, how did he know the time, date, and location that Petrov was going to have his scoping interview. Clearly those details were leaked, and we both know where from.”

  “Hmm, I see your point,” said Matt calmly, “but who knows about it apart from us and Petrov? He’s dead. He won’t talk.”

  “I told the details to Charlie York just before he got bailed.”

  “He won’t say anything, not without incriminating himself as well.”

  “But his solicitor was there, and DS French,” added Colin.

  “Oh! That’s not so good.”

  “Gary will back me up. He’ll say I made a mistake, passed the details by accident. But the solicitor... I dunno.” Colin shook his head.

  “Hey, Colin, aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves here? We don’t even know that it was York who passed the information that led to the contract being placed on Petrov’s head. It could just as easily have been my contact that was responsible. Let’s not forget, I leaked details too,” said Matt, reassuringly.

  “But you didn’t know the specifics of the interview.”

  “That’s true, but even so, I still leaked vital information, I’m still equally to blame.” He paused. “Besides, what if it was neither of us? What if the Liverpool people were watching the police station, saw Petrov being moved, and simply followed at a distance? He had a lot of enemies that were desperate to silence him.”

  “I suppose...” conceded Colin. “There’s also one other possibility.”

  “Go on...” urged Matt.

  “The tech lads did some checks on Petrov’s mobile phone. There were messages received alerting him to police actions against him and Maclean.”

  “He was being tipped-off from someone on our side?” Matt looked shocked.

  “Yeah, and you’re not gonna believe who by?”

  “Go on, you’ve got me hooked, mate. Who was it?”

  “Superintendent Mitchelson!” Matt shook his head with disbelief.

  “No way. You’re taking the piss.” Colin shook his head. “Can it be proved?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s been verified, checked; I even phoned the number myself and heard his voice.”

  “Bloody hell!” Matt sat back digesting this new information. “You certainly know how to drop a bombshell. What are you going to do about it?”

  “I can’t just sit on it. I dunno how deep the corruption goes. I reckon I’m gonna pass it to the Chief Constable so he can arrange an independent enquiry. Problem is, if they’re thorough, they’ll discover that I leaked information too. My career will be over, at the very least.”

  “But if you don’t say anything, surely he’ll slip up at some point and get caught anyway?” Matt was trying to suggest a viable alternative.

  “Maybe... But that makes me as bad as him. I’ve got to go by the book, take my chances. Besides, we don’t know how long he’s been working with the other side.”

  “How long do you think it’s been going on?” asked Matt.

  “Dunno, but think about it... Petrov was operating in London when you, me, and Mitchelson were working on the Drug Squad. We infiltrated his gang, everything was going well, and then all of a sudden, our covers were blown. It was a mystery as to how it happened. Remember, we spoke about it afterwards, and neither of us could think of anything we had said or done that would’ve given it away. The rumours were that someone on the unit was leaking information. Maybe Mitchelson was that leak?”

  Matt nodded involuntarily as the logic of the explanation sank in.

  Colin continued, “Years later, Mitchelson arrives up here in Manchester, and we now know that Petrov turned up shortly afterwards. No doubt, he was still running drug gangs, but he never came to anyone’s attention. What if Mitchelson was leaking information to him all along, protecting him, keeping investigations away from him?”

  “Like a minder, deflecting police interest in him?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what would he be getting out of it?” asked Matt.

  “Money, maybe? Or he could’ve been blackmailed into doing it? Who knows?”

  Colin picked up one of Matt’s chips and nibbled its end as he thought about the possibilities.

  “You do realise that if this is true, Mitchelson is indirectly responsible for my injuries and subsequent dismissal from the M
et,” said Matt. “Not to mention you having a gun stuck in your face, plus the death of at least two people, one of which was a copper?”

  “What else might he have had a hand in over the years? He’s up to his neck in it,” added Colin.

  Both men considered what might have gone before.

  Colin broke the silence. “Look, this is way too serious. I’m going to the Chief first thing tomorrow. I’ll do my best to keep you out of it, but we can’t just turn a blind eye. I doubt I’ll have a job once it’s all sorted out, but it’s something that needs to be done.”

  “Are you going to speak to Mitchelson first, get his side of things?” asked Matt.

  “No, I don’t think I could bring myself to look him in the eye without hitting him. Besides, he’d only come up with some sob story; you know what he’s like.”

  Matt looked concerned. “Don’t do anything rash, mate. Sleep on it. Think about the options. If you feel the same in the morning, go for it. It’s your decision. Either way; GOOD LUCK. And don’t worry about how it impacts on me; I’ll be fine whatever happens.”

  With nothing more to add, and having told Matt everything, Colin felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt free, unburdened, and yet there was still a nagging worry at the back of his mind. If this was going to be the end of his career, he needed to explain to his father why he was going to take this self-destructive course of action. But before that, he needed to explain the pressures of what his job entailed; something which, in his many years as a detective, he had yet to broach. Above everything else, above his sense of duty and moral obligations, it was his father’s understanding, acceptance, and pride in his son, which mattered most.

  ...

  Arriving back home, Colin picked up his phone and called his father’s number while the thoughts were still fresh in his mind.

  “Dad, sorry it’s late, I need to speak to you,” he said.

  From the tone of his voice, Colin’s dad instantly knew that something important was about to follow. Sensing the magnitude of what was about to come, he remained silent as his son gave him a brief outline of the current case and the actions he was considering taking. It was as if the floodgates had been opened. Once he had started, the words flowed with ease and speed. For the second time in as many hours, Colin unburdened his woes, only this time, it was personal. He reverted to a little child telling his much loved father about the worries on his mind.

  When he eventually came to an end, his dad said, “I don’t pretend to understand your job, the dangers and pressures are beyond me, but I brought you up to have moral and physical courage. You do the right thing by people. You did it in Afghanistan when that poor soldier was shot. I know it hurt you more than you would admit, probably more than you would even admit to yourself. But I was so proud of the way that you went to see his family, to speak to them, to comfort them.”

  Colin had never heard his dad speak like this before. He could feel the emotion in his words.

  “Now you’re in a similar situation. The policeman was killed, but you did the right thing by him too. You found his murderer and gained closure for his family, but in so doing, you discovered a world of corruption that cuts to the heart of the organisation that you so dearly love. You bent the rules to prevent the killer getting away with murder. That I can understand. You did what you thought best to stop a bad deal going ahead, one that it turns out was brokered by your corrupt boss. Now you’ve got to do what you think is best to deal with that corruption. Whatever you decide to do tomorrow morning, whatever the outcome, I’m proud of you, son.”

  Colin could feel a lump in his throat; his eyes welled up with tears. The one thing that he had wanted from his father had been there all along. It suddenly dawned on him that this might be the last time that he would be able to seek his father’s acceptance, to discuss difficult decisions, or to talk openly with him. The cancer had a firm hold over his body, and he would not be around much longer. He was glad that his dad was proud of his actions, and that thought gave him courage, moral courage, to go ahead with his decision to speak to the Chief Constable.

  Chapter 42

  The following morning dawned bright and sunny.

  Colin arrived early at the Force Headquarters and made his way to the top floor. He stood nervously on the plush beige carpet in the lobby of the Chief Constable’s office suite. There were comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs, but he paced back and forth, a bulging folder of paperwork clasped tightly against his chest. He had collated every piece of evidence linking Mitchelson to information leaks, documenting his relationship to Petrov, and his connections to the murders of PC Griffiths and Malachi Maclean.

  Colin had slept little the previous night, his mind in torment as he fought to decide which direction to follow. But this morning, his decision was made. He was even more determined that telling his Chief Constable was the right thing to do. He took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly as he calmed his nerves. He expected the worst, but was resolved to accept the consequences of his actions, whatever they might be. He knocked on his senior officer’s door.

  Knock, knock.

  “Come...” came a voice from behind the oak veneered portal.

  Chief Constable Damien Cartwright was sat at his desk engrossed in a report. He was a stout man, late 50s in age, with a balding head and reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Colin and his anxious expression was replaced with a friendly smile.

  “Come in, sit down. You’re just the person I wanted to see,” he said.

  Colin was intrigued, but slightly concerned. Had his actions during Charlie York’s interview already been reported by the solicitor? Or had Petrov filed a complaint against him after the assault days earlier?

  “Really, sir? What have I done wrong?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing like that. Something has happened that will directly affect you.” He paused. “At about 06:30 hours this morning, Superintendent Mitchelson was arrested at his home address on conspiracy to murder Sergei Petrov.”

  Colin was speechless. It took a moment for the news to register. He sat in shock, his mouth agape, staring at the Chief Constable. Inside, his mind was spinning. He could not believe what he was hearing despite having come to see his superior in order to pass over evidence that would have resulted in the exact same conclusion. Part of him felt a sense of relief. Part of him felt a small glimmer of hope that maybe he would not necessarily lose his job. After all, if what CC Cartwright had said was true, then it meant that some other department must have discovered evidence of Mitchelson’s guilt, and if it showed that he had been complicit in Petrov’s execution, then Colin’s own leak of information may have had nothing to do with the killing. Despite this, Colin was still sceptical.

  “Did he admit it?” he asked, guardedly, “How can you be sure?”

  “Information received showed that Superintendent Mitchelson had divulged confidential intelligence to the Liverpool drugs syndicate. He gave them details of what Petrov intended to say in exchange for his freedom, and he gave the time, date, and location of his interview with the investigators and the CPS.”

  Colin could still not believe that there had been a third leak of information.

  “Are you serious, sir? Is this information credible? Will it stand up in court? Is the source legit?” he asked, reeling off question after question.

  “It’s all good, DI Peterson, the information came from the BEST source,” the Chief Constable said cryptically, with a smile.

  “I don’t understand, sir.”

  Chief Constable Cartwright thought for a second before answering.

  “This is just between us, OK? It’s NOT to leave this room. It’s not even for the ears of your team members, alright?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course...” Colin nodded.

  “The NCA (National Crime Agency) have been looking at the drugs syndicate for some time now. It appears that they are major players in the import/
export of drugs and firearms to this country. The NCA have had an officer deep undercover within their gang, collecting evidence. They knew of Petrov’s connection to the gang - he was merely a small-scale customer as far as they were concerned. And they were aware of PC Griffiths’ death, but only after the event. They were not involved. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Colin maintained eye contact with his senior officer as he listened intently to what he was being told.

  “Somebody at the Liverpool end received information from Superintendent Mitchelson that Petrov intended to tell us everything that he knew about the syndicate. The NCA officer picked up on this message and told his handler, but not before the gang had hired a hitman to execute Petrov, preventing him from divulging any harmful information. It seems that Mitchelson was next on the list to be silenced, so we needed to act fast, hence his timely arrest. I guess he was as much a threat as Petrov was.”

  “But what was the Superintendent’s connection to Liverpool? How did he know which gang to contact?” asked a bemused Colin.

  “Good question... NCA’s best guess is that he was working alongside Petrov and met them through him. We’ll know a lot more once Mitchelson has been interviewed. At least he’s off the street for now.”

  Colin nodded. Things started to make sense.

  “Anyway, how can I help you?” asked the Chief Constable, changing the subject. “What did you want to see me about?”

  Colin stood and placed his folder of paperwork on the desk in front of Cartwright.

  “This lot might help the NCA in their investigation into Mitchelson, sir.”

  “Really? What have you got?”

  “As you know, we were examining Petrov’s mobile phone. Apart from incriminating evidence linking him to both murders, we found a number of calls and texts between him and the Superintendent. Mitchelson had been tipping him off as to police actions, helping him to avoid capture. Mitchelson was using a burner phone, but I called the number, heard his voice, and got it recorded and traced. It was definitely him.”

 

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