Burning Ambition (DCS Palmer and the Serial Murder Squad Book 7)

by B. L. Faulkner

  He opened the safe and looked at the bundles of banknotes, his ‘sprint’ money: money kept ready in case things came tumbling down to such a degree that he had get out quick. He should never have let East know it was there. In all their years together he had never really trusted him, but in the business Frank had been in and to some extent was still in you needed a minder with a nasty reputation, and East certainly had that.

  He put the money into a small attaché case and then, opening the base drawer of the safe, removed a large manila envelope of papers. He was finished; job done.

  He locked the office and took the lift to the ground floor, signed out, bid the security staff a good night, and took the stairs down to the car park.

  As he waited for the car park barrier to raise and let him out, he could see the squad car.

  ‘This way gentlemen,’ he muttered as the barrier rose and he drove out.

  ‘Two-seven. He’s leaving and heading south towards the Elephant and Castle. He has a small briefcase and some papers with him now.’

  ‘Didn’t he have them when he went in to the building?’ Gheeta asked, puzzled.

  ‘No.’

  Palmer and Gheeta exchanged glances.

  ‘What’s he up to?’

  Palmer took a chair as Claire came into the room carrying coffees.

  ‘What’s who up to? I had to go up to the machine on the fifth floor for these,’ she said, putting the coffees down. ‘Our machine is broken again.’

  ‘Good, I’m sure they get a better coffee up there than the dishwater we have to put up with.’

  ‘It’s what is Frank Alexander up to,’ Gheeta answered in reply to Claire’s question. ‘He’s been into his office and got a case and some papers, and now he’s heading South.’

  She pointed to the flashing LED on the screen.

  ‘That’s our car tailing him.’

  Claire sat and sipped her coffee.

  ‘Perhaps he’s got some money and passports and is doing a runner.’

  Palmer sipped his coffee.

  ‘I knew it! I bloody well knew it!’

  He took another sip. Gheeta didn’t understand.

  ‘Knew what, guv? That he’s doing a runner?’

  ‘No, I bloody well knew that Bateman and his top brass cronies on the fifth floor would have a decent blend of coffee in their damn machine. It actually tastes like coffee, not dishwater like ours does. Crafty buggers.’

  He calmed down and put the cup down.

  ‘No, Alexander isn’t doing a runner. Why would he? We haven’t got anything on him to connect him to either the failed robbery or any of the murders. But he’s up to something.’

  The comms crackled.

  ‘Two-seven. He’s turned down the Old Kent Road.’

  Palmer and Gheeta looked at each other and spoke in unison.

  ‘Freddy Doorman.’

  ‘Well, well, well, Mr Alexander, what brings you out at this time of night? It’s nearly closing time.’

  Freddy Doorman rose from his table at the Walmer Castle, put down the evening paper he had been reading, motioned his two minders away and shook Frank’s hand. The pair of them sat down.

  ‘Not just a social visit I’m sure, not this late.’

  ‘Business, Freddy; social and business never mix, you know that. I think I may have a problem that you can help me with.’

  ‘If I can I will, Frank. You know that.’

  ‘I take it you’ve been watching the antics of George on the news?’

  ‘Can’t miss it, can you? Four dead and he’s on the run; even got Palmer doing the press conferences. They want him badly don’t they, Frank. Would have been a master hit if that job had come off though, a master hit.’

  ‘Yes, would have been. But it wasn’t, and it’s all got a bit silly, Freddy.’

  ‘So what can I do for you then?’

  ‘Well, George has flipped his lid, and at this present time he has Gail as a hostage.

  Doorman raised his eyebrows.

  ‘You are joking?’

  ‘No, not joking. He’s waiting for me to bring him enough cash to get a quick flight out of the country.’

  ‘Tell me where he is Frank, and I’ll have a few of my people take care of it and bring Gail back here.’

  Frank held up his hands.

  ‘No, no, thanks for the offer but that is not what I want. I’m going to give him the cash, Freddy, and if he keeps his word he’ll just go. Probably with Gail.’

  ‘With Gail?’

  ‘They’ve had a thing going for ages. Wouldn’t surprise me if she goes with him. She’s got her own Swiss bank account and her name’s on the deeds to the Tenerife villa, and most of the business is in her name.

  ‘You trust him to keep his word and just go?’

  ‘Ah, now that’s where you might come in. No, I don’t trust him; or her. Listen Freddy, if anything goes wrong and I somehow meet my end...’

  ‘Now I know you are joking...’ Doorman interrupted. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘No Freddy, I’m not. I’m deadly serious. I’ve known East for an awful long time, and I know how violent he can be. I’m going to give him a good wedge to get him out of the country and set himself up abroad somewhere. But if he thinks I’m going to cough up anymore, he’s wrong.’

  He looked round to make sure they were out of earshot to anybody else and leant forward close to Doorman’s face. He spoke softly for a minute or two before leaning back.

  ‘So that’s the deal, Freddy. Will you take care of it?’

  Doorman was very serious.

  ‘Frank, should it be necessary, it will be a pleasure.’

  Frank hoisted the manila envelope onto the table and pushed it across to Doorman.

  ‘That’s payment in advance, Freddy. Non-returnable. If everything works out and the deal’s off, it’s still yours.’

  Doorman looked inside the packet.

  ‘Bearer Bonds.’

  ‘Two hundred grand’s worth, Freddy. Cashable anywhere in the world, with no questions asked.’

  ‘Frank, this is not necessary. I go back a long way with your family, you know how close me and your dad were in the bad old days.’

  He laughed.

  ‘I’d do it for his memory, Frank. I don’t want paying.’

  He pushed the envelope back across the table. Frank pushed it back again.

  ‘I need you take it, Freddy. You know the way it works in our line of business; if I pay for something and shake on it, we have a deal, signed and sealed; if I don’t pay it’s not a deal, it’s a favour. I only work in deals, Freddy. Do we have a deal?’

  He held out a hand. Freddy Doorman looked Frank straight in the eyes for a moment, and then took his hand and shook it.

  ‘We have a deal, Frank. We have a deal.’

  ‘Thank you, Freddy.’

  ‘Two-seven. He’s on the move again but no package; whatever it was he’s left it at the pub.’

  Palmer watched the indicator light shift along the map.

  ‘Where’s he off to now then? With a bit of luck it’s to meet East.’

  A new voice came over the comms.

  ‘Three-one to Palmer.’

  Palmer looked at Claire expectantly and mouthed the question: ‘three-one?’.

  ‘They slotted in to two- seven’s place at the Alexander house sir,’ she advised him.

  Palmer nodded.

  ‘Go ahead, three-one,’ Gheeta said.

  ‘Three-one, we have a visitor at the house.’

  ‘Can you see who it is, three-one?’

  ‘No, he or she has kept close to the hedge and has spoken into the gate intercom. The gates opened and the person has entered, then the gate closed again.’

  ‘Okay three-one, remain where you are.’

  Gheeta turned to Palmer.

  ‘East?’

  ‘Got to be, hasn’t it? He can’t just disappear into thin air, and Alexander probably knows the right people to get him out of the country, so he ne
eds to make contact. Get an armed task force to quietly attend; no fuss, just to wait out of sight until we can get more information.’

  ‘How are we going to get that, guv?’

  ‘That house backs onto a golf course.’

  He stood and started to put his coat on.

  ‘Bring one of your listening things Sergeant, and we’ll get as close as we can round the back and see if we can pick up a conversation.’

  ‘Listening thing, guv? It is a very precise piece of kit called an ADA – an Audio Directional Amplifier.’

  She rummaged round in a side cupboard and hoisted one out. Palmer straightened his trilby.

  ‘I haven’t been on a golf course for ages.’

  ‘I didn’t know you played golf, guv?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  Claire and Gheeta exchanged glances. There was no answer to that.

  Frank Alexander watched his double security gates close slowly behind him as he drove back into his drive; his tail had pulled in a hundred metres up the road. He smiled to himself. If he needed the police, they wouldn’t take long to arrive.

  He parked up and went back into the house, the briefcase of money held firmly by his side. He intended to get rid of East as soon as he could.

  In the lounge, East stood by the French doors. Gail was still seated on the sofa, and surprise surprise… Kershaw was sitting next to her.

  ‘We have a visitor.’

  East used his gun’s barrel as a pointer. Alexander nodded.

  ‘So I see. What brings you here? I thought they were holding you?’

  ‘I got bailed. Palmer couldn’t make any charges stick other than ‘intent to rob’, could he? So I got bailed.’

  ‘So you led them here, then.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The police! You don’t think for one moment they are not following you, do you? Every copper in London is looking for George, and you’ve just led them straight to him.’

  ‘I didn’t know he’d be here, did I?’

  ‘So what do you want then? Why come here?’

  ‘Palmer wants to know all about the job. He knows I must be in it from the beginning ‘cause of Fred working at the Mint; so he knows I can, as he put it, ‘be of great help.’’

  ‘You mean grass on us.’

  ‘Be of great help, he said.’

  ‘In exchange for what?’

  ‘No charges brought against me.’

  Frank laughed.

  ‘He’s having a game with you, Kershaw. He couldn’t do that – even Palmer couldn’t do that. You’ve been nicked, you’re on file, charges will be brought. So what’s he really offered you?’

  ‘Said he’d give me a good reference to the court and could probably reduce my sentence. Might even get away with a non-custodial.’

  ‘If you were to be of great help, eh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And are you going to be of great help, Kershaw?’

  ‘Depends, doesn’t it.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘Well, I thought you might be very grateful if I turned down his offer.’

  ‘How grateful would that be then?’

  ‘Fifty grand grateful.’

  East shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘I know a cheaper way.’

  And he walked over to Kershaw and shot him in the head.

  ‘Problem solved.’

  Frank Alexander could hardly believe what he had witnessed. Kershaw’s body slipped sideways across Gail’s lap, the blood dripping down her leg as she stifled a scream with her hands and turned white. Frank stepped forward and pulled it off her onto the floor.

  ‘You stupid fuck! What was that about? Now we have a body to get rid of!’

  ‘Two bodies actually,’ said East, and raising the gun again he shot Frank Alexander in the heart. He crumpled to the floor, stone dead before he hit it.

  East picked up the briefcase. Gail stayed rooted to the sofa for a few seconds before finding her voice. She spoke slowly.

  ‘What have you done, George?’

  ‘What I planned to do,’ he said with a smile. ‘I planned to kill Frank; had to. Once we took the money and scarpered, he’d have had a contract out on us. There’s no way he would just sit and let us get away with it, would he.’

  ‘But why kill Kershaw?’

  ‘He’d be a witness, wouldn’t he? Anyway, him coming here has worked out for the good.’

  ‘Good how?’

  ‘They had a row. Kershaw shot Frank and put the gun down to get the money, Frank managed to get to it and shot Kershaw, and then died himself.’

  He wiped the gun on the curtains and then knelt beside Frank Alexander’s body and pressed it into his dead hand, curling a finger round the trigger.

  ‘There we are, Frank’s prints on the gun. Sorted.’

  ‘Not quite, George.’

  He turned to find Gail had the Glock that Frank had thrown onto the sofa earlier, and it was pointing at his head.

  ‘What are you doing, you stupid cow? Put it down.’

  ‘Do you really think I’d give all this up for a life on the run with you, George? You were fun while it lasted, but that was all it was ever going to be, George. Sorry.’

  The shot was loud, no silencer; it went straight through George East’s head, leaving a nasty splayed-out exit hole at the back which leaked blood onto the carpet where he fell. Gail quickly took the gun in Frank Alexander’s hand and wiped it before pressing it into East’s hand, then she wiped the Glock and pressed it into Frank Alexander’s hand.

  She picked up the briefcase of money and took a large picture down off the wall which revealed a wall safe. She entered the combination, opened it, put the money from the case inside, closed it, replaced the picture, and put the now empty briefcase in a cupboard. She stood and looked around the room; perfect.

  She walked over to the side table and pressed a panic button hidden beneath its top. Then she ripped her top, dishevelled her hair and scratched her own face. That hurt. Then she ran to the front door, opened it, and ran screaming down the drive.

  Palmer got the call on the radio from Johnson as they were on their way to the golf course.

  ‘Gail Alexander said what?’ he asked, hardly believing what he’d heard.

  Johnson repeated it.

  ‘She came running and screaming down the drive, and she says there are three dead in the house, sir: East, Kershaw, and her husband. She’s very shook up. Medics are on their way.’

  ‘Okay, we will give Frome a call and get his SOCA crew down there. You and Simms better seal the area.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’

  Palmer told the driver to make for the house, not the golf course, and gave Gheeta a wide-eyed look and a shrug that said: ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Gheeta took a long breath.

  ‘That’s six dead now, guv.’

  ‘That’ll please Bateman.’

  DI Rayson met them as their car pulled up on the drive in front of Alexander’s house.

  ‘Blimey, you got here quick,’ said Palmer as he got out, trying hard not to wince at the sciatic pain that stabbed his thigh.

  ‘We got a call from Alexander’s security alarm company. Apparently somebody pressed one of the panic buttons in the house; that alerts the alarm people and they phoned it through to us. I’d already got this address flagged up as ‘of interest’ in our despatch room, so they gave me a call. Looks like a right mess in there. Gail Alexander has been given a sedative and taken to the station to give a statement.’

  Palmer nodded.

  ‘She the only witness?’

  ‘Yes, in a bit of a state but she came up through the criminal world with Frank, so from what I remember of interviewing her in the distant past she’s quite a tough one. Do you want to see her? She won’t say a word until her solicitor arrives, I can tell you that. Frank trained her well.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so; not yet anyway. Get a copy of her statement through to us if you would.’


  ‘Yes, of course.’

  He nodded towards the house.

  ‘I understand Frome is on his way with a SOCA team, so we’ve not disturbed anything. Want to take a look?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Rayson went to the open boot of a patrol car and took out two pairs of shoe covers.

  ‘Here you are, put these on and then feel free. Oh, and by the way, can I have my two officers back now? I have more than enough on my plate for the low number of chaps I’ve got without missing some.’

  Palmer laughed.

  ‘I thought you’d be having a quiet time, seeing as we had most of the faces from your patch banged up in Wales.’

  Rayson smiled.

  ‘Yes, but you let the bastards out again. Now they’ll want to make up for lost earnings, and you’ve two of my best men with you.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Palmer, ‘Let me have them for this evening, and then I’ll sign them back to you tomorrow. I must say though, they’re a good pair of coppers, did well for me; a real compliment to your team. I think they deserve a few days off.’

  ‘No way,’ Rayson said, looking aghast at the suggestion. ‘I’ll leave you the uniform boys tonight to secure the premises. Keep me up-to-date, won’t you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Rayson gave a perfunctory nod to both Palmer and Singh, got in his car and was driven off.

  They mounted the steps to the Alexanders’ door and flashed their cards at the uniform officer barring their way. Inside they found Johnson and Simms at the door to the lounge, also with overshoes on.

  ‘Bit like a murder mystery in there, sir,’ said Simms. ‘Three bodies, two guns, and the sole witness too distraught to talk.’

  Palmer walked carefully into the room, followed by Singh and the officers. He looked at the scene.

  ‘Well, at least it will save the taxpayer a great deal of money not having to keep this lot banged up for life.’

  That wasn’t the statement Johnson and Simms had expected. They looked at Singh, who rolled her eyes and shrugged; she had realised long ago that Palmer often said what the public felt, and what senior officers were not supposed to say.

  Palmer slowly walked round the room, taking in the scene.

  ‘Mrs Alexander’s statement is going to make interesting reading.’