by Ted Tayler
Henry left Hugh at his door. The newbie spent the afternoon unpacking, getting stowed away, and reading files on half a dozen future operations. He found a thick file on something called ‘The Irregulars’ which was too much to take on in the time available.
Hugh felt hungry. He wondered whether anyone in the neighbouring rooms could help with directions. As he stood outside the door, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a couple doing what comes naturally. Hugh retreated to his room. It was almost six. Henry could tell him where everything was in a few minutes.
The phone rang. He answered, thinking it must be Phoenix, or Henry; someone at Larcombe at any rate.
“Hello, is that Hugh Fraser? This is Ambrosia, one of the senior Olympians working with Athena, and Phoenix. I wanted to wish you every success in your new role. I look forward to meeting you in person and hope we will work closely together on the Irregular project, to make it the absolute best it can be.”
“Thank you,” said Hugh, “you’re very kind.”
Henry rapped at the door.
“Are you ready, old chap?”
“I must dash, I’m afraid,” Hugh said to Ambrosia. “I’m off on the guided tour. Until we meet then, face to face,”
“Until then,” said Ambrosia. She put the phone down. What a confident-sounding man this Fraser sounded. She allowed herself to dream.
Hugh joined Henry in the corridor. The head of Security stood with a younger couple. Henry introduced them: -
“Hugh, these are our senior Training Officers, Kelly Dexter, and Hayden Vincent. You’re sure to bump into them. They’re your next-door neighbours.
Hugh Fraser blushed. Kelly and Hayden picked up on it immediately. They looked at one another and burst out laughing.
“Sorry,” said Kelly, “but we’re trying for a baby, and the time was right.”
“You’ve lost me,” said a puzzled Henry, “we’ll get on with the tour, Hugh, shall we?”
The two men left. Kelly and Hayden returned indoors. The coast was clear.
Saturday, 22nd August 2014
Phoenix and Athena awaited the arrival of her parents. Geoffrey Fox had called last evening to say they would travel down by train to spend the whole Bank Holiday weekend at Larcombe. Athena’s mother had been under the weather recently. Her latest check-up in Harley Street had produced more shakes of the head than nods of approval.
“You must try to lose weight, Mrs Fox,” Dr Ramanayake, her consultant cardiologist had told her, “and stop running around as if you are still a young woman. You are in danger of undoing the good that the past two years have seen.”
“Hope dotes on her grandmother,” said Athena, “I hope Daddy can persuade her to slow down and take it easy. It would be awful to lose her.”
“We can make sure she puts her feet up while she’s with us,” said Phoenix. “Geoffrey will have to stand up to her for a change though if things are to improve in the longer term. What time does the train arrive?”
“A car is picking them up at a quarter past twelve. Sarah Gough is coming by train too since her VW camper went to the dealership in the sky. I suggested Daddy travel to Waterloo with Mummy to meet her. They can have a chat on the way to Bath. Daddy usually gets a taxi to Paddington, but there’s little in it, and the company will help Sarah.
“I’m surprised Henry didn’t offer to drive the car into Bath,” said Phoenix.
“Oh, he is,” said Athena. “I offered him the chance after yesterday morning’s meeting. He was over the moon.”
“How many of us will there be in the church?” asked Phoenix.
“Fifteen, including Hope,” replied Athena.
“Almost a full house, then,” said Phoenix.
“We’re privileged to live on an ancient estate like this, with its own church,” said Athena.
“I suppose so, but we hardly use it. We get far more use out of the orangery, stable block, and the ice-house.”
Athena gave him a look.
“I wonder when the last christening took place? Perhaps, we should have a re-think when our second child will be born. It will give us a reason to hang onto the church for a while longer before you bulldoze it to make way for accommodation to house the Irregulars destined for the west.”
“Come on,” said Phoenix, “let’s check that the rest of the house is ready for the arrivals this afternoon.
After lunch, Henry Case drove into the city to collect the Reverend Sarah Gough and Athena’s parents from Bath Spa station. Geoffrey spotted the affection that existed between the younger couple and nudged his wife gently as the couple left them to meet their daughter after arriving back at Larcombe.
“That relationship has moved on somewhat since the wedding, dear,”
“Who will officiate at their wedding, I wonder,” said Grace.
Geoffrey smiled.
“What did I say?” asked Grace, confused.
“Nothing, darling,” he replied. “I just thought, you could guarantee they would definitely get married. I imagine a vicar living in sin would set hearts aflutter at the head of the Anglican Church.”
“Geoffrey, you’re incorrigible,” said Grace, as Athena came down the stairs to greet them. Phoenix walked a few steps behind her, carrying an excited Hope.
Greetings were exchanged. Hope was set on the floor, so she could totter along holding her grandmother’s hand. The weekend had begun.
In the stable block, Sarah and Henry had already climbed into bed.
“We won’t be disturbed, darling,” said Henry. “Nobody hangs around here on a Saturday afternoon if they can help it.”
“I wish I didn’t have to sleep in the main building, Henry,” said Sarah, “but we must keep up appearances. Now stop talking and remind me what I’ve been missing since the weekend of the flower show.”
Two doors along, Hugh Fraser ploughed through the Irregulars file. He had lots of catching up to do. He’d realised that from the minute he’d arrived. Phoenix had taken him to the orangery for the first time yesterday. No wonder he used that place as a sanctuary. It was so quiet, and peaceful. They got far more work done there. He wondered if it would be okay to move there this afternoon. That thudding noise against a wall somewhere close by was very distracting.
*****
On the other side of the city, Phil Hounsell was explaining to wife Erica why he was calling a halt to Hounsell Security Services.
“I thought you enjoyed working with Wayne, and the others,” she said, as they sat watching the children playing in the garden.
“After I left the police, I needed to do something. The pension was enough to keep us going, and your thirty hours a week at the building society meant we were far better off than many families. Work has been thinner on the ground this past three months. Jake Legg and Dusty Miller needed more regular contracts, so I had to let them go. They’re working in Weston now and earning a decent wage at a place that’s only an hour’s drive from home. Travelling around the country mothering pop stars took its toll, and the hours were ridiculous.”
“Have you talked to Wayne? He’ll be gutted. Anyway, what will you do? I can’t see you becoming a house husband.”
“I’ve been offered a post with the Olympus Project charity, out at Larcombe Manor. Because of the nature of the work, it’s not practical for Wayne to accompany me, nor do I think I can retain the HSS office for only one member of staff. If I decide to accept their offer, I need to tell Wayne, and we’ll wrap up our outstanding jobs, pass on those we can’t complete to local companies in the same field, and close the office. Larcombe wants me on-site in a month’s time. I would start work on Monday, the twenty-third of September.”
“Call Wayne, now,” said Erica. “Invite him over for lunch tomorrow. Get it over with.”
“You’re right,” Phil sighed. “I shall miss the big lump, he’s an odd character, but it’s been fun. Wayne will find another gig with a uniform. He usually does.”
*****
Monday, 25th Aug
ust 2014
One thing you can never depend on in England is the weather, particularly if it’s a Bank Holiday. The weekend had been warm, with passing clouds. The day of the christening promised to be warm, but with showers frequent and heavy.
Phoenix and Athena had decided weeks before that ‘options’ needed to be a top priority when they planned the day’s agenda. So, the outdoor BBQ became an indoor brunch, without a hitch. The walk across the lawns to the little church on the edge of the estate was abandoned. The transport section provided three vehicles. One carried Phoenix, Athena, and Hope plus her grandparents.
Rusty and Artemis, accompanied Giles and Maria Elena, Hope’s nanny.
Minos, Alastor, Kelly, and Hayden were the first to arrive. They had travelled over with Henry Case and Sarah Gough.
Hope wore a new white dress for the occasion.
The Reverend Sarah Gough welcomed the congregation to the church, and the service followed its traditional path to the baptism, the signing of the cross, and the welcoming of Hope into the Church. Rusty and Artemis promised to fulfil their roles as her godparents.
Kelly and Hayden wondered how long it might be before they could ask to use this church again to be married and then return for the baptism of a child of their own.
Artemis wondered whether she and Rusty would ever marry and have children.
Henry watched Sarah with pride. She was so suited to this role. He loved her with all his heart. He was determined never to let anyone or anything come between them.
When they left the church, the rain had relented, but the transport stood in readiness, and they were soon inside the Manor house. The party began.
Hope was in her element. Lots of grown-ups fussing over her, lots to eat and drink. She would dance with her Daddy soon after he had finished cuddling Mummy. If only things could always be this nice, she thought. The bad things they face appear to have gone away.
She remembered what Grandma had said last night to Grandpa when the clouds got dark, and the birds stopped singing: -
“The lull before the storm,”
*****
While the folk in the West Country celebrated a joyous occasion, in the centre of London something quite different took place.
Hugo Hanigan rested. It was late in the afternoon. He had spent the weekend in the country and had only returned at three o’clock. His schedule was empty until tomorrow at noon when he was due at the Glencairn Bank.
The intercom buzzed. Someone wanted to come up. It had to be a stranger. Anyone he had agreed to meet in his apartment knew the entry code. Hugo walked to the lift and studied the face on the CCTV.
“The ghost of Tommy O’Riordan has come to call on me,” he cried. “The last time I set eyes on Tyrone he was ten years old.”
He pressed the buzzer. Tyrone entered the lift.
Hugo poured himself a large Jameson’s and stood with the bottle hovering over an empty glass.
“Will you have a glass with me, Tyrone? You gave me a turn just now. You’re the spitting image of your father. He and I often shared a glass.”
Tyrone nodded. Hugo poured until Tyrone lifted a hand to stop.
“What can I do for you, Tyrone?” asked Hugo. “Is it something your mother couldn’t face doing herself? She had to send her lackey?”
“There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Hugo,” said Tyrone, sitting in the same chair his mother had occupied the other day. “My father did everything he could to give Rosie and me an education. He wanted us to take up a profession that would earn us enough money, so we would never be tempted to follow in his footsteps. I became an accountant. My parents didn’t travel to Spain often. I had time on my hands. Marbella is teeming with ex-pats, many of them have fled to the sun to avoid arrest. I was Tommy’s son, so when I reached eighteen those old boys treated me like one of their own. I learned the things my Dad didn’t want me to learn. I’m good at what I do. My so-called friends laughed behind my back when Dad went to prison. They’re not laughing now. My mother asked me to come home to help her after Dad got killed. I told her I was ready to be better than Dad had ever been.”
Hugo was edgy. He kept wiping sweat from his brow.
“We never did discover who was responsible,” he said.
“Now, only weeks later, Uncle Sean has been slaughtered. Two of your most senior men, dead inside two months. Some might say you were careless. Others might see a pattern.”
“I had nothing to do with either of those killings, Tyrone,” Hugo whined, “you must believe me.”
“Seamus McConnell didn’t agree,” said Tyrone, “when we had a brief chat, yesterday.
Hugo was up and out of his chair now, his glass empty. He was shaking.
“You’ve lost control of everything, Hugo, including your bladder by the looks of it. Who do you think executed Fergus Mallon and his team? Who erased Michael Quinn? McConnell, your hired assassin, won’t spend a penny of the blood money you paid him.”
Tyrone got out of his chair, removed the stiletto from his coat pocket, and flicked out the blade. He closed the gap between him and the shivering jelly of a man that had been Hugo Hanigan, master entrepreneur, and leader of the Grid.
Hugo watched in slow motion as the blade pierced his chest, once, twice. The third, fourth and fifth time never registered. He was on the wooden floor, swimming in his blood.
“Death to all our enemies,” said Tyrone.
He called his mother as he watched the deranged banker draw his last breath.
“My father’s and Uncle Sean’s deaths have been avenged,” he said.
“Good,” said Colleen. “Come home. This merits a celebration. The Grid is ours for the taking now. You will assume control of the Glencairn Bank in the morning. I shall inform the Grid’s associates that if they wish to continue laundering their money, it will cost them an extra five per cent, with immediate effect.”
“What about Hanigan?” asked Tyrone.
“Don’t leave any trace of yourself in the apartment. Remove the body and take it to Smuggler’s Way. Wrap it from head to foot in those orange waste bags they use. Dump Hanigan on one of those large barges that take rubbish to landfill further along the Thames, out in the Marshes. He doesn’t deserve any better.”
Tyrone followed his mother’s orders. If the police didn’t get here in the next twenty-four hours, then it would do until they could get the clean-up done professionally. As he took one last look around, he thought this place suited a young banker, making a name for himself in the City.
Moving a dead body around London, even at the dead of night, isn’t a simple task. It took Tyrone O’Riordan until dawn as he dodged and weaved his way to the riverside. Hanigan was in the boot of his car, something else that needed a deep clean. Even wrapped in dozens of orange bags. At last, he saw his chance. A heavily laden barge at the dockside. He checked nobody was watching. Tyrone opened the boot and manhandled the body onto the barge. Later this morning it would be on its way. He drove away from the quay and parked further along the riverbank.
Two hours later, a string of barges moved past the spot where he stood, waiting.
There, he recognised the barge, the one with the blue tyres instead of the usual fenders at the bow. Chelsea supporter.
Everything on that barge was orange. Tyrone was satisfied. He could go home and sleep. It didn’t matter what colour it was; revenge was sweet.
EPILOGUE
Tuesday, 26th August 2014
It was back to work after the celebrations of yesterday for the senior staff at Larcombe. As the morning meeting ended, the news broke that the Rotherham Inquiry report had concluded that fourteen hundred local children had been subjected to sexual abuse over a fifteen-year period.
“Children as young as eleven, brutalised, and their lives damaged forever,” said Athena.
“An inquiry, a report, the hand-wringing that follows, are far too late,” said Phoenix, “innocence can never be regained. What rankles with me is that Olymp
us actions in Swindon showed the template against which the rest might follow. Yet the number of towns and cities revealed as displaying systematic cases of abuse continues to escalate.”
“It’s heartbreaking,” agreed Athena, “we should consider taking direct action.”
Olympus was unaware of the events of last night, and this morning. The landscape has altered. The Grid has always been a force for evil. Hugo Hanigan has now gone. Colleen O’Riordan and her son Tyrone have taken command. With them, at the helm, things are soon to get much worse.
*****
You have just finished reading ‘Revenge Comes In Many Colours’
This was the ninth book in the series featuring ‘The Phoenix’; in the tenth book, ‘Three Weeks In September’ the action continues.
• How will the gang leaders of the Grid react to their new leader?
• Can the Irregulars help Olympus make further inroads into the Grid network??
• Will Ambrosia and Hugh Fraser form an alliance that threatens the stability of the Olympus hierarchy?
• How will Artemis handle the arrival of Orion? Will her old boss Phil Hounsell uncover her identity?
• Which scandal, or injustice, is next for Phoenix and Rusty to handle?
• Are there problems ahead for Henry Case, and his affair with Sarah Gough?
These are just a few of the unanswered questions. Many dangers must be faced by the Olympus agents. There are many criminals to be brought to justice. Several wrongs have to be made right, and closure sought for victims… more tales remain to be told.
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