by Ted Tayler
The plans for direct action against the Portsmouth gang were put on hold until the Dawn Prentice disappearance was resolved. One way or another.
“It seems we’ll be off to London later tonight, or first thing in the morning,” said Phoenix.
Hope had finished her lunch and looked for something to play with. She was bored. Athena picked up one of her soft toys and handed it to her in her high-chair. Phoenix and Athena carried on eating and chatting over what lay ahead for them both over the next forty-eight hours.
Hope looked around for a good place to drop the little bear. Down it went.
“Oops,” said Athena, “where’s Benny gone?” She leant over and picked it up, then placed it back on Hope’s tray.
Phoenix kept an eye on his daughter. Sure enough, Hope checked again to see where she could drop Benny. She watched as it fell this time, seeing how fast it fell. Hope giggled when it landed far enough away that someone had to get up to fetch it this time.
“She’s got us on the run-around,” said Phoenix, as he walked behind Hope’s chair and collected the soft toy. He threw it onto the sofa. Hope’s bottom lip quivered.
“Do you want to sit with Mummy and Daddy?” asked Phoenix, and he lifted his daughter out of her high-chair. Once she sat upright on the sofa between her parents, the bottom lip was fine,
Benny was in her mouth, and peace reigned for at least two minutes. Athena’s next half-hour was sorted until Maria Elena returned. Phoenix cleared away the lunch things and said goodbye to his wife and daughter. He set off to the orangery.
When Rusty and Artemis joined him at two he had formulated his plan. Even though he had no idea where Dawn Prentice was being held, nor an actual address for where Adam Kovacs lived. My plan’s flexible, he shrugged. Choosing the timing will be more critical than the location.
“No wonder you two keep disappearing here as often as you can,” said Artemis, dropping her folders on the desk.
“Yeah, it’s very relaxing,” said Rusty. “We always get more positive results from missions planned in the orangery.”
“It’s no big surprise,” said Phoenix, “it’s the influence of the vibes Erebus left behind. I tune into his spirit, and let him guide my hand.”
Rusty and Artemis shared a look. Was he having them on?
“Erebus was the god of darkness and shadow,” said Phoenix, with a sly grin, “we had better get on with it. We don’t want to be in here when night falls.”
“You’re terrible,” said Artemis, “you had me going for a minute.”
“Let’s get cracking then,” Phoenix said, “what have you found out about the building Kovacs is using to hold this woman prisoner?”
“Giles has narrowed the search to two properties. The first is a ground floor, commercial unit, off the Portobello Road. The place has been vacant for three months. Kovacs bought it in 2010. My guess is it’s a convenient business to launder at least part of his drug money. It was a sandwich shop in its last disguise, with a decent footfall according to the estate agents.”
“This sounds interesting, Artemis,” said Rusty, “why hasn’t it been snapped up?”
“They’ve had people interested,” said Artemis, “but so far Kovacs hasn’t seemed in a hurry to sell. The floor-plan shows a small storage room at the back of the shop, and stairs to a corridor that runs the width of the building. The agent said the conditions are rank in the cellar area. Neither use nor ornament.”
“Show us the second option then,” said Phoenix, “but it will need to be bloody good to top that.”
Artemis produced the photographs and notes on the next property. They showed a warehouse, in Park Royal. There were several interior rooms for offices and secure storage. Some had windows, others didn’t. There was racking on the exterior walls of two sides, and tables in the open area in the middle.
“We know Kovacs is switching his focus to designer drugs,” said Artemis, “this has got to be where he stores his raw materials. His people then convert those into the finished product. It’s possible Dawn Prentice is being held here in one of the secure rooms.”
“Unlikely,” said Phoenix, “too many people coming and going. No, the shop is the odds-on favourite. She could have been in that cellar for weeks. It explains why he won’t entertain a sale.”
“Then she’s alive?” asked Artemis.
“She was,” said Rusty. “While the money still appeared in Kovacs’s bank account.”
“There’s still a chance though?” pleaded Artemis.
“I’ll contact our nearest team. If my interpretation of these drawings is correct, each of these units on this side of the street has a rear entrance. Delivery vans have access via a narrow lane, which opens out into a semi-circular loading and unloading area. They can break-in, and report on what they find.”
“All we can do is wait, and hope,” said Rusty.
“Far from it,” said Phoenix. “No matter which way this goes, we’re hitting Adam Kovacs and his operation. Artemis, get me his home address, and that of any office he uses, and then return here in an hour.”
“On it,” she replied and hurried off to the ice-house.
Phoenix made the call. The closest cell team leader was now the agent who assumed control after Des Finch had been killed at Eton Wick, Simon Garrett.
“What do you need, Phoenix,” Simon said,” good to hear from you again.”
“Simon, congratulations on your appointment. Last July and that firefight with the Bulgarian gang seems a lifetime ago. I need you to do a spot of breaking and entering off Portobello Road today. I’ve emailed you the details. The place has been empty for a while. You shouldn’t be disturbed. I want a two-man team fitted with body cameras to attend. Giles Burke will liaise with you from here at Larcombe. We want to see what you see as you carry out your search.”
“Roger that,” said Simon. “What are we expecting to find?”
“If I’m right, you’ll know as soon as you reach the stairs to the cellar.”
“Understood.”
Phoenix ended the call and rang Giles Burke in the ice-house. Rusty sat grim-faced and listened to the conversation. Giles was left to get his side of the link-up organised and talk to Simon Garrett. They would watch the scene unfold in London. If the technology played ball and worked one hundred per cent.
“What’s the plan for Kovacs?” asked Rusty, when Phoenix had ended the call.
“Something painful, but swift,” said Phoenix, “fingers crossed Artemis will give us the perfect setting for his demise. Don’t make any plans for this evening. We’re off to London as soon as your good lady passes us those addresses.”
“Give me a list of what to collect from the armoury,” said Rusty, “it will save time. I don’t need to hang around waiting for her to get back.”
Phoenix produced a list of items from his folder.
“Drop into the transport section on your way over to the armoury. I asked them to prepare a nondescript van for today, like the ‘Scott & Bailey’ disguise we used in Chiswick. It should be ready to collect. As soon as you’ve loaded the van, come back here and we’ll get on the road.”
“On my way,” said Rusty, glad to be seeing action. The walk to the transport section only took a minute. He spotted the battered Transit, with ladders on the roof, outside one of the garages. The logo read ‘Clearview Cleaners’. One of the mechanics threw him the keys when he saw him arrive.
“Here we are, Rusty. I need these garage windows done if you’ve got five minutes, mate. Can’t you have a word with your boss? Everything’s a rush job with him.”
“That’s the game we’re in, mate. Sorry. Thanks though.”
He soon parked by the door to the ice-house, and due to enter when Artemis emerged from the lift.
“We meet again,” she said, pulling him into the entrance hall for a hug.
“Phoenix is waiting,” said Rusty, tousling her hair, and kissing her on the neck. “As much as I’d love to take this further, I need to
get below for equipment we need tonight.”
“Oh, you’re off to London already? Keep safe.”
They kissed and clung to one another for a while, then Rusty opened the lift doors. Artemis walked across the grass towards the orangery. Rusty watched her go, then made his way to Level Two, and the armoury.
Artemis found Phoenix sat in the same position as she had left him an hour ago. He was going through his mission folder, page by page, checking and re-checking his plans.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, looking up with a start, “did you bump into Rusty?”
“Do I look flustered?” she asked, with a grin, “your transport looks fine, and Rusty is in the armoury already. I’ve got everything you’ll need right here.”
She laid out the photos and notes on the two properties known to be occupied by Adam Kovacs on a regular basis.
“His home address is in McGregor Road, W11. As you can see, the property benefits from off-road parking. This image shows the double gates to the left-hand side of the building. Kovacs lives alone in the ground-floor flat, which he purchased for three-quarters of a million. Check the signs at the gates. There’s CCTV covering the parking site, and the entrance. Giles is working on disabling those cameras as we speak. The big red sign warns ‘No parking in front of these gates. Access required 24 hours a day.’ As for his office, that’s midway between his home and Notting Hill Gate. His walk to work takes five minutes.”
“A further five minutes would have taken him to Dawn Prentice’s front door,” said Phoenix. “No wonder it was so easy for Kovacs to get his hooks into her again. They were near neighbours.”
“The short distances involved explain how they kidnapped her and had her hidden in that cellar without raising any alarms. It would have been over in minutes.”
Phoenix received a message on his phone.
“It’s Simon Garrett,” he said. “He’s disabled the alarm, and they’ve entered the vacant shop premises. We don’t have a screen here, Erebus banned them because it spoilt the ambience of the place. Let’s dash over to the meeting room in the main building. We can watch things unfold from there. Leave a note for Rusty. Tell him to join us when he’s ready.”
Two minutes later they watched a grainy, intermittent image flickering on the screen. The sound was perfect, even if the pictures weren’t. Simon Garrett had led the way into the shop through the rear storeroom.
“All clear, Phoenix,” he said. “I hope you’re getting this. The storeroom has been cleared out. Empty racks, discarded packaging materials on the floor, nothing more. Through here in the shop, we’ve got a counter and display cabinet. The windows have been boarded up. There’s nothing to see. We’re making for the stairway now.”
Phoenix and Artemis watched as Simon reached the top of the staircase. His head turned to the wall on his right. He had found the light switch. The image flared with sudden brightness. Phoenix saw the steps leading to the corridor.
“Think yourself lucky you’ve only got sound and vision, Phoenix,” said Simon.
Behind him, the second agent could be heard gagging at the smell that must have been coming from the locked room.
The green-faced agent appeared from behind Simon carrying a pair of bolt-cutters. The padlock on the door was broken in seconds. The door swung open.
“We’ve found your missing person, Phoenix,” said Simon as he stepped inside.
“How close is our nearest medic?” asked Phoenix. He could now see the grim tableau that had greeted the two agents.
“In traffic, at this time of day, possibly fifteen minutes,” replied Simon.
“Contact him and get him to give you a clue as to the time of death. We can’t do the autopsy ourselves you’ll need to cover your tracks. Fit a new padlock, and first thing in the morning, convince the estate agent that rats have been traced back to the property. Tomorrow, Simon, you’re going to be a rat-catcher from the council. Once the estate agent makes the awful discovery, we can let the authorities take over.”
“Understood, Phoenix,” said Simon. “Sorry, we couldn’t rescue the poor woman.”
Artemis had sat quietly watching and listening.
“How horrible. She was alone in that dark cellar for weeks. She was secured hands and feet. There was a bucket close by, did you notice? I’ve seen a few dead bodies in my time. My guess is she’s been dead several days, but not much more than a week. She bore no visible wounds to suggest she was shot or stabbed. There was bruising, of course, and sores near her bindings. We could be looking at a drug overdose.”
“I knew your policewoman’s eye would come in useful one day,” said Phoenix.
“Does what I told you help?” asked Artemis.
“Yes, without question. The official cause of death will give some explanation, in due course, but we may never know why Kovacs kept her there all that time. That troubles me. I could drag him back here for interrogation, but I don’t have time to waste.”
Rusty entered the room.
“What did I miss?”
“Garrett discovered Dawn Prentice dead in the cellar. They’re removing every trace of ever having been inside the premises, then tomorrow they’ll assist the estate agent in discovering her body.”
“The van’s ready, and the kit loaded. Shall I drive?” asked Rusty.
“Yes,” said Phoenix. “I’ll run along the corridor to tell Athena we’re off. I’ll see you outside in two minutes.”
Rusty turned to Artemis.
“Was it bad?”
Artemis replayed the film of the few minutes Phoenix had taken the precaution of recording.
“I’d hazard a guess at a drug overdose,” said Artemis. “Just one question? Why leave the authorities to handle the autopsy and everything that follows, but rush off to deal with Kovacs? He’s behind her murder, so why not let the police arrest him and any of his thugs involved?”
“If Olympus handled the body, we couldn’t be sure the authorities would release the funds tied up in Dawn’s will. Phoenix wants the charity she worked with to receive her fortune. The work they do in the fight against drugs must be helped as much as possible. It was her work in that area that brought her to Zeus’s attention in the first place. We would have no option but to dispose of her body so Olympus never got connected to this business. This way, the police will work out who was responsible.”
“What will they make of Kovacs being found dead the same day Dawn’s body is discovered?”
“Don’t worry, Phoenix has thought of that. A classic piece of misdirection. He’s struggling with the volume of work, yet he still comes up with the goods.”
“Off you go then,” said Artemis, “your chariot awaits. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.”
After he’d trotted off to join Phoenix, Artemis tidied up the meeting room. She smiled to herself as she listened to Rusty attempting a George Formby impression.
He was singing, ‘When I’m cleaning windows.’
CHAPTER 7
Phoenix was in the passenger seat of the van when Rusty walked outside the main building. He jumped into the driving seat and drove down the main driveway. It was now four o’clock.
“We should be in London by half-past six,” said Rusty, switching on the radio.
“Do me a favour,” said Phoenix, “reprimand whoever used this vehicle before us. One, they’ve left their fast-food packaging in the glove compartment, and two, the radio’s tuned to Heart FM. Both are designed to clog your arteries. Find me something more relaxing.”
“Kerrang it is then,” groaned Rusty.
“Why can’t we install CD players in Olympus vehicles?” asked Phoenix, “we could choose our own music then. I’m happy to listen to one of yours, for every two of mine. Fair’s fair.”
“Hang on, how’s that fair?” said Rusty.
“Seniority,” said Phoenix.
Rusty shook his head and suffered the hard rock music in silence for the next hour as they joined the M4 and travelled east.<
br />
Phoenix switched off the radio when they passed the Newbury turn-off.
“Do you agree with my logic on this one, Rusty?” he asked.
“I don’t have a problem getting rid of scum like Kovacs, boss. I’m concerned about collateral damage. Is that tied in with the misdirection?”
“Of course, I do everything possible to avoid innocent casualties on an Olympus mission. You know that. Others are not so concerned.”
“Which will steer the police in the direction you want them to go,” said Rusty.
“They’ve not failed us yet, Rusty.”
Phoenix called Giles Burke in the control room.
“How’s progress on the CCTV situation, Giles?” he asked.
“I’ve located the two cameras that would cause you problems. They had a sudden failure ten minutes ago. It only lasted two minutes. I’ll interrupt their feed at regular intervals over the next two hours, increasing the length of the break on each occasion. How long will you need when you move into position to carry out your mission?”
“A maximum of eight minutes, Giles,” said Phoenix. “I’ll let you know when we’re finished, and you can reduce the breaks in recording over the following four hours. If we’re lucky, Kovacs might not check his cameras that often. If he does, my guess is he won’t pay for an emergency call-out when the problem appears to be minor. He might leave it and call a repairman tomorrow morning. By then it will be too late.”
Rusty found his way to St Luke’s Road and turned into McGregor Road at six forty. There was no option but to do a slow drive-by, as traffic was still busy.
“I couldn’t live up here,” said Phoenix, “too many people going nowhere.”
They passed the building and the double gates. There was no sign of Kovacs inside the ground floor room visible from the road. Rusty found a nearby car park. The two friends wandered back up McGregor Road. Phoenix nudged Rusty as he saw a car slow by the entrance to their target’s off-road parking spot. Rusty produced a battered copy of an A-Z street map of the city from his jacket. He and Phoenix stopped fifty yards away from the gates. Anyone on the street would have thought they’d got lost and stopped to check directions. Nobody would have offered to help. People around here lived their own lives, they knew better than to talk to strangers.
