BLOOD DRAGON

by Freddie P Peters

  “A professional job?” Pole zipped up his biker jacket. The wind had picked up and the charred building still showed a few incandescent spots that the firefighters were tackling.

  “Too early to tell, Inspector … It does not take a pro to spill petrol over a surface and strike a match. But we’ll know more once we have analysed the pattern of the fire.”

  “You mean, whatever substance was used would have been poured precisely for maximum impact?”

  “That’s right.” A firefighter approached Senior Officer Lord. She nodded towards the smouldering structure.

  “How many sources of fire left?”

  “Only two small residual spots …” The young man’s face was well shielded by his protective helmet, perspiration still pearling on his forehead.”

  “Great job.” Senior Officer Lord smiled.

  “Thanks Cap … glad the wind only picked up now.”

  “Always grateful for small mercies.” The young man disappeared back towards the blackened structure.

  “Is it possible to take a look inside?” Pole ventured. “Following one of your firefighters.”

  “Unless you are a fire expert you won’t gather very much from what you see.”

  “I just want to get a feel. But I wouldn’t want to put anyone at risk.”

  Senior Officer Lord sized up Pole for a moment and called one of her men.

  “Is it safe enough for DCI Pole to enter?”

  The young man eyed Pole for a short moment.

  “With breathing apparatus, that could work. But we turn back if I spot anything I don’t like.”

  Pole nodded.

  “Alright DCI Pole … but no heroics.” She grinned.

  “I have seen the Towering Inferno … I’ll be as good as gold.”

  Senior Officer Lord squinted for a moment and burst into laughter. The film dated back to the mid-70s. Pole grinned in turn. She would have been born around the time it came out.

  “The only reason I know that film is because I started an impressive collection of disaster movies when I was a teenager.”

  The young firefighter came back with a breathing mask, helmet and fireproof jacket and trousers. Pole dropped his helmet near his bike … “Now I feel like Steve McQueen.”

  “With this bike of yours, you’re convincing … remember though, no heroics.”

  Pole gave the thumbs up and followed his guide into the building.

  * * *

  The acrid smell of melted plastic and burnt paint seeped through the filters of his helmet. The stairwell was covered with a thick layer of soot that felt sticky to the touch. The old factory had been split into four lofts, only three of which were occupied.

  Pole soon arrived in front of Cora’s door. It was wide open and he noticed that it had not been forced open. Whoever had set the place alight had entered the property after opening the door with a key.

  Inside the loft the fire had ravaged anything that was combustible. Before that, however, the place had been gone through. The debris of broken pottery had not been caused by collapsing shelves. The bookcase had been thrown down, its contents spilling over the floor. Cushions had been scattered around, now blackened and half burnt. The coffee table stood on its side. Glass shattered everywhere.

  Pole’s guide indicated he should be careful. The fire had started to eat through the structure of the building and a hole had appeared in the middle of the room. Pole suspected it must have been one of the combustion spots where flammable liquid had been poured. Looking at the room, Pole recognised the same pattern on the east side of the large lounge. Something to remember. The liquid had not been poured randomly but placed methodically at the chosen points. Not a random act of arson or a burglar gone mad. Someone had been seeking to cover their tracks.

  Pole’s companion suddenly nudged him. A faint glow had appeared near a spot in the floor that threatened to collapse. “We need to go.” He called the team and a couple of firefighters rushed through the main door as they were leaving the flat.

  “The wind is not helping,” he said as they descended the stairwell in haste. Pole thanked him and let him go back to his task of securing the building.

  Senior Officer Lord had moved to the east side of the property. Pole handed back his equipment and changed back into his biker jacket. He hesitated for a moment. She must have sensed him looking in her direction. She waved a hand and called him over. “What do you make of it … if anything?”

  “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine first.”

  “Go on.”

  “Would a well-positioned number of fires around a room cause the floor to collapse rapidly?”

  Senior Officer Lord looked surprised. This was an astute technical question.

  “If you know what you are doing and you know the structure of the building … yes, that would be possible.”

  Pole nodded and ran his hand through his hair.

  “Then I know what I’m looking at.”

  Chapter Three

  Cora was still wrapped up in the blanket Nancy had thrown around her shoulders when she was carried unconscious into the flat. She was hugging a large mug, the contents of which smelt delicious. Pole had announced himself with a short ring, using his set of keys to let himself in.

  “NCA has been.” Nancy had stood up and moved to the hallway to greet him. She managed a smile. It was good to have his solid presence to share the load of a case. A few years ago, she would have been proud of carrying the weight on her own. But she had learned to let him be involved and felt fresh joy in doing so.

  “Good, Rob has a lot of experience.”

  Cora laid the mug on the low table without having drunk any of its contents. Her eyes anxiously asked the question she could not bring herself to utter. Would she be returning to her home tonight?

  “I’m sorry … The fire brigade caught the fire early though.”

  Cora brought her knees to her chest and let her forehead drop onto them.

  “Those bastards managed what the Chinese authorities did not succeed in doing … destroying much of my work.”

  Nancy closed her eyes briefly, feeling the pain of her friend. She moved back to the settee and sat next to her. There was little she could say though. She cast an eye towards the box and files she had precipitously moved to another part of the room to make space for Cora.

  “I want to know what you saw … please.” Her face hardened. She would not shy away from the reality of the assault.

  Pole sat down on the edge of the armchair that faced the sofa. He gave a detailed description of what he had seen to the two women.

  “There is one thing I don’t quite understand.” Nancy had taken out a yellow legal pad she always kept at the bottom of the coffee table. “You said the room, or what remains of it, confirms what Cora said to us … the people who went through it were searching for something.”

  “Could be money, could be something else.” Pole added.

  Cora shook her head. “Bits of jewellery but nothing much, and nothing very expensive. And why would they have pursued me?”

  “Because they needed to ask you the location of what they were looking for … It could still be cash or valuables.” Pole hesitated for a moment. “Are Ollie’s parents wealthy?”

  Cora looked intrigued by the question and its implications. “They are well-off, but they hardly ever speak …” Cora pulled the blanket tighter around her. “I have only met them once in the past three years. Why?”

  “Kidnapping for ransom is always a possibility.”

  “If that’s what it’s about … they won’t pay.” Cora stopped. She had raised her head to speak but let it fall back on her knees.

  “We have to consider all possibilities.” Nancy stretched out her hand and squeezed Cora’s shoulder.

  “I understand Nancy.” Cora’s
voice was muffled and barely audible. “But whatever the reason, he certainly did not tell me he felt in danger.”

  Nancy turned towards Pole. “Why the methodical torching of the place?”

  “Either they wanted to destroy whatever they failed to find and thought was still there, or else they found it and decided to destroy it on the spot.”

  “That is incredibly well organised … You need proper combustible liquid to burn down a place like the factory.”

  “That is why I think they are professional. They were organised enough to bring what they needed.”

  “Or rather something convinced them they needed to act quicker than they had anticipated. I’m not sure they had decided to torch the place initially, but something made them change their minds.”

  “That’s a very good point.” Pole’s face dropped a little and Nancy picked up on it. Ollie might have given them what they wanted or told them what they needed to know.

  So why keep him alive?

  * * *

  It was still early but Nancy had woken up just as Pole was preparing to leave. He had tiptoed around the bedroom and eventually sat on her side of the bed to wake her up with a slow kiss. “Got to go mon coeur … I’ll call Rob as soon as I am in.” Pole didn’t move. Nancy opened an eye and smiled. “I thought you were going.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself towards him, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry you had so little sleep.”

  Pole gave her a naughty smile. “And not for the hoped reasons.”

  Nancy sighed. “And to my own disappointment.” Sleep had vanished from her face and she turned serious. “I’m concerned this story is not going to end well.”

  “I won’t lie to you … Keep Cora from returning home if you can, until I know what we are looking at.” Pole wrapped his arms around her slender body.

  She gave him another quick kiss and pushed him away. “Come on Inspector Pole, the villains of London need to be brought to justice and I need to check on Cora.”

  Pole stood up slowly, shrugged on his biker jacket and disappeared. Nancy let her eyes linger on the door Pole had just closed. His outfit did not only make him look sexy but also adventurous and free.

  Nancy slid into a heavy silk dressing gown and entered the lounge on tiptoe. Cora had insisted she would rather sleep on the sofa. Pole had succeeded in leaving without waking her up.

  Nancy leaned over her young friend for a while hoping she may notice her presence. Cora’s face had disappeared into the soft blanket she had wrapped around her. Her spiky hair, part of which had been dyed purple, had flattened against the pillow. Nancy could just make out the balls of her two fists resting against Cora’s chest.

  The kitchen was still in darkness and dawn still a short while away. Nancy moved slowly around the furniture. She opened a cupboard without a sound, took out her teapot, found the tea caddy in which she kept her favourite Sichuan tea, and started to prepare a fresh brew. The gurgling of the kettle almost sounded too loud.

  When the tea was ready, she pulled out a couple of mugs and moved back into the lounge.

  Cora was up. She had dragged the blanket all the way to the large window overlooking the gardens. The sky was becoming lighter, purple turning into a haze of blues and light pinks.

  Nancy came alongside her and handed her a mug. There was no need to speak. It was still too early, and the quietness of dawn felt welcome.

  Cora dipped her lips into the warm liquid. She nodded … a good Chinese tea … heart-warming.

  She finally broke the silence. “I guess Jonathan will call if he has news.”

  Nancy smiled. “He will and he will follow up with Rob as well.”

  She liked the way her artist friends had warmed to DCI Pole and almost immediately felt they could call him by his first name.

  Cora continued sipping her tea. Nancy left her to her thoughts and returned a few moments later with toast and homemade jam.

  “I’m not hungry, but you are going to tell me that starving myself is not going to help.” Cora returned to her place on the sofa.

  “And that would be correct …” Nancy pushed the plate of toast towards her friend.

  “I need to replace my lost phone … and …” Cora picked up a piece of bread and started to nibble at it. “… I need to go back to the flat … I know it will be bad.” She added quickly. “But I need to see it for myself … please.”

  “I understand … it’s better to see it as it actually is than to imagine a total disaster.” Nancy had started on a piece of toast as well.

  “I’d like to do that alone.” Cora managed to swallow the small piece she had been chewing. “I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want people to dictate to me about what I should feel.”

  “Cora … please. As much as I understand why you may want to go alone … reconsider.” Nancy had dropped her breakfast back onto the plate. “The people who chased you, who set fire to your flat and who are holding Ollie, are still out there. They will follow you and they will get to you. They are dangerous.”

  “What are you suggesting then? Even if you are with me, what are we supposed to do against the bastards?”

  “I’m not contemplating going on my own with you, but Jonathan will make someone available for protection, if we go.”

  Cora exhaled a short breath. She did not want to wait for security cover to arrive.

  “And what are you going to do if you need to run away?” Nancy gave a quick nod towards Cora’s foot still covered in bandages.

  “I’ve been worse.” Cora wiggled her toes and winced a little. “I have put together performances that have brought me to the edge of comfort and safety … I understand physical pain.”

  “This is not a performance … You’re not in control of your surrounding the way you are when you are putting on a show. I know you often push yourself to the limits, but trust me, the world of criminality is a very different kettle of fish.”

  “I need to check what the damage is to my artwork.”

  Nancy gave her a kind smile. “I know you do, and I also understand you are anxious, but it still doesn’t mean you have to compromise your own safety.”

  “Please … the wait is unbearable.” Cora stood up abruptly.

  Nancy extended an appeasing hand. “I’ll speak to Jonathan to organise protection for us.”

  * * *

  Pole’s tie was hanging around his neck, undone. Rob Clark, his NCA contact had called back already.

  “We’ve picked up a large SUV leaving the area next to Ollie Wilson’s flat on CCTV. Its registration plate has no match on ANPR.”

  “Stolen vehicle … with fake number plates … that sounds like a good start. How far have you tracked the car?” Pole had squeezed his mobile between his shoulder and ear, absentmindedly tying the knot of his tie.

  “Not as far as we had hoped … we lost them in De Beauvoir Estate.”

  “I thought the cameras worked there, according to the latest internal report on policing in North and East London.”

  “They do usually, but either the route they took was the only one not covered or the cameras were not working.”

  “Or … they had been disabled.” Pole sat at his desk and logged on.

  “That crossed my mind. One of my guys is checking that out but it wouldn’t surprise me. This is a professional job, not a simple kidnapping for ransom.”

  Rob remained silent for a moment.

  “I know what that means.” Pole’s lips straightened. “If they get the information from him, he is dead.”

  “You mean when they get the information from him. These people will know how to make him talk.”

  “Unless he has been trained not to talk.”

  “So far nothing indicates this young chap is involved in anything bad … there’s no police record connected with his name.�
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  “But he’s not British right … digging into his past is not going to be that easy or quick.”

  “INTERPOL has zero data on him. I used Veritone Identity … quite a good AI enabled software, nothing there either.”

  “Still … whoever wanted to speak to Ollie Wilson got some bad boys involved. That costs money and means knowledge and access to the right network.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you, Jon, but so far we have drawn a blank.”

  Pole obtained a few more details from Rob Clark and took a moment to consider his next move. He had spoken to Steve Harris only recently. His involvement with the MI6 officer had borne fruit in the past, but it had also caused complications Pole could have done without.

  Pole had come to an arrangement with him a couple of years ago. Harris was not the sort of man who would do Pole a favour and ask for nothing in return. Then again, if young Wilson was involved in some undercover activities, perhaps Harris would know about them or know whom to ask.

  Pole picked up his burner phone, his thumb hovering over the speed dial number. He inhaled deeply and pressed the key.

  “Inspector Pole … that’s a bloody good surprise.” Harris’s faint East End accent plunged Pole back into a recent past he ’d rather not remember.

  “Harris … I’ve got some information that may be of interest.”

  “So not about China and Miss Wu then?”

  Did Harris really have to always be such a prick?

  “More about America … interested?”

  “Fire away mate … I’m all ears.”

  * * *

  Nancy’s jeans were a little too baggy for her but she liked the jumper she had lent her. It was a sweater knitted in soft purple angora which matched the colour of her highlights. Cora brushed her hair vigorously to give it the spiky look she liked. She slammed the brush down onto the stone top that surrounded the wash basin.

  Why had Ollie not confided in her?

  She moved to the spare room that was adjacent to the bathroom and walked over to the window. A feeble sun now shone in the sky, clouds obstructing its glow intermittently. The few people who were leaving the building looked well wrapped up. Snow was coming … she could feel it in her bones. The sole of her foot still hurt and she walked back gingerly to the bed.