by Peter Bates
“Mr Kennedy, it is Amel here. You’re in dock.”
“I am, yes.”
“Right. When you’ve finished tying up, take the bag directly to your car and place it in the boot. Get in the car and you will find a folded paper on the front passenger seat.”
Alf wondered for a split second how the hell Amel had managed to get a paper into the car. The man had no key, and the doors would certainly have been locked. Even so, this was one occasion when Alf Kennedy would not question what he’d done.
“The paper has the detailed directions on where you must go with the bag. If you set off at five thirty exactly, you will arrive at your destination in approximately ten minutes. At five forty-five, someone will meet you there and you can hand over the bag to him. The man will be wearing dark blue clothes and will carry an orange walking stick with a silver handle. He will pay you for your delivery and then you may go back home. I will be in touch with you sometime in the next two hours or so and collect the cash. If it all goes well, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t, I’ll then give you your details of your next pick up. Is that clear, Mr Kennedy?”
“Yes, Amel.”
The mobile clicked, and Alf Kennedy stared at it silently for several seconds.
“Easy money.” he whispered into the silent phone.
CHAPTER 45
Frank and Reg were relieved to find that there were plenty of spaces available for parking in the area that they had planned to. On a cold day the harbour and its docks were not the best place to be for sightseers or holidaymakers, and the area was relatively peaceful and almost free of both vehicles and people. They had a good view of the docks, and expected to be able to spot their target quite easily, as well as being able to keep one eye on Terry and Roy. Frank smiled as he watched both men, standing on the dock, and apparently deep in conversation as they idly scanned the many moored boats as passing visitors would do. The Lady Gabrielle was now anchored and tied up firmly, its small crew making their way down the gangplank, before patting each other’s backs, and then scattering in all directions. There was still no sign of the ship’s captain, which to both sets of watchers was a good sign. If he did have a large bag of dope, he wouldn’t want his crew to get any ideas, and it was a full five minutes after the last crew member had gone, when the captain finally appeared at the top of the gangplank, and keenly scanned the local area in both directions. Terry and Roy were now looking directly away from the boat, and pointing fingers at various other moored ships, scattered around the harbour.
“That’s definitely him,” muttered Reg under his breath. “We just need to be a little patient now. If he leaves empty handed, we’ll just call it a day and find the nearest pub, knowing full well that we guessed wrong.”
Captain Alf Kennedy held his position on the gangplank for a further three minutes as he scanned the surrounding area, and then returned to his control cabin. Moments later, he dragged a very large plastic bag through the open door, which he locked behind him, and then pulled the bag to the edge of the boat. The bag was clearly heavy, and the watchers could see that it took all the man’s strength to lift it from the deck and to manoeuvre it over one shoulder.
“That’s it.” murmured Terry. “We’re in business, mate. The old case crackers guessed right, Roy.”
“We did, pal. Let’s see which car he goes to, and then follow him. Give Reg and Frank a buzz and tell them to slowly follow us in their car now. Once we’re tracking him and, on the move, we’ll need to keep in touch with each other until it’s done.”
Kennedy was already on the footpath bordering the main road and struggling with the bag as he increased his pace. Just less than one hundred yards from the dock, he turned into a side street, and Roy quickly increased his walking speed. Losing sight of their quarry now would be fatal. At the moment, Roy’s car wasn’t far away, but if Kennedy had to go much further to reach his own, it could then be difficult to catch up, and Roy would need to totally rely on Reg and Frank.
Kennedy’s car was on the side street that he had turned into. As Roy and Roy reached the corner, both men edged their eyes around the last building and immediately spotted the man as he dropped the bag at the rear of a pale blue Mazda, parked no more than ten yards away, and then clicked open the boot lid.
“Get hold of Reg now,” ordered Terry quietly. “Tell him that Kennedy’s parked on Smithson Street and that he has a blue Mazda. Give him the number plate details so that there’s no mistake. We’ll get in your car now, drive around this corner, and wait for Kennedy to set off if he hasn’t already. I don’t think that he’ll be rushing. He won’t want to attract any unwanted attention, and he’s got to get the bag into the boot yet.”
Keeping a discreet eye on the Mazda, the two men walked across the end of Smithson Street and within a further twenty seconds were in Roy’s car, and on their way. Terry glanced at his watch as the car began to roll forward. It was exactly five thirty, and as they turned into the street, the Mazda was no more than fifty yards ahead and gently accelerating. Roy looked sharply in his mirror as another car appeared behind him, his apprehension quickly turning to a broad smile as he recognised Reg at the wheel.
“Reg is behind,” he said, glancing at Terry. “It looks like we’ve got it exactly right.”
“Yes,” agreed Terry. “Let’s hope that it continues that way. We can’t let him out of our sight for a moment. The only thing is, I don’t think that he’ll deliver anywhere where there are many people about, so it will probably become more difficult to follow him on quiet roads, and maybe out of town. We need to keep swapping places with Reg, and to keep our fingers crossed that Kennedy’s not too alert. I’m bothered!” exclaimed Terry, finally.
“Don’t be, my friend,” responded Roy immediately. “Nothing will go wrong. In fact, Reg is moving past us as I speak. We’ll leave him there for another half mile or so, and then switch round again.”
“No, Roy. It’s not that, we’ve all done this sort of thing before. No, it’s simply that we’re not coppers any more. When the exchange takes place, we can’t arrest them, and they’ll just disappear, one with the dope, the other with cash.”
“We can take photos.”
“We can, but it won’t prove anything. It’ll just show two blokes exchanging a bag for a parcel.”
“I can’t believe it, Terry, but you are absolutely right. This is something we’ve somehow missed, but what the hell can we do?”
“What about we call Reg and Frank and ask them?” Terry asked the question, and then hesitated for a moment, his face suddenly lighting up before continuing. “Really, though, Roy, I think that the very best thing that we could do right now would be to call Norman Pendleton immediately and see if he has any units in the area. We definitely should have done that before.”
Roy’s expression equally lifted as he looked sideways and into his friend’s face, his head nodding agreement as he turned. “Hell’s bells, you’re right! Call him right now Terry. You’d better make it quick though, really quick. You can then phone Reg and Frank as soon as you’re done with Norman and give them an update.”
Keeping one eye on the progress of the Mazda, Terry switched on the car’s hands-free phone and clicked on the direct line number that Norman Pendleton had given him two days ago.
Norman answered immediately.
“Hi, Terry.”
“Norman. Really sorry to have to call you on this line, but we have something of an emergency on our hands. To cut a long story short, we’re following a car that is carrying a big pile of drugs to a dealer. At the moment, the man in it has no knowledge that the four of us are travelling in two cars that are fairly close behind them, but we don’t know exactly where the exchange is taking place. Obviously, we’re not able to make any arrests, so we need you and some of your lads to step in very smartly.”
“Bloody hell, Terry! You lads don’t half get about a bit. Where are you now exactly?”
“We’re on the B7392, travelling south, and
we don’t yet know where the car is headed.”
Roy halted for a moment, then gave Pendleton the make and model of car, followed by its registration number.
“If it’s any use to you, Norman, I’ll stay on the line and give you the route as we drive along.”
“Are you dead certain about what’s in the car, Terry?”
“Absolutely one hundred percent, Norman. We wouldn’t have called you otherwise. We should have called you before, but I guess we all must have forgotten that we’re not still working lads and, on the force. The actual arrest of these buggers never crossed our stupid minds.”
“You’re all far from stupid, Terry. Keep the line open as you suggested, and give me a couple of minutes to get some units organised. I can do that whilst you’re following and updating me with the route they’re taking. I’ll get any info you give me relayed to the lads that are already on the road in the unmarked cars. If we deliberately don’t stop the car you’re following before the actual deal takes place, we could pick up both parties to it at the same time, which would be even better. Don’t forget. I’ll definitely leave this line open permanently and, on a speaker, so just keep talking while I get things moving from my end. Believe me, we can move very quickly if we need to, and this job certainly sounds like priority.”
Terry slotted the phone into its holder on the dashboard, leaving the line open.
“You’d better call Frank and Reg immediately, Roy. They’ll need to know what’s going on as quickly as possible. I’ll keep talking into the car phone and spelling out their route for Norman until those buggers get to wherever they are going.”
CHAPTER 46
Alf Kennedy’s initially joyful mood was on the wane. His brain hadn’t lost sight of the huge amount of money that he was about to earn, but deep down he knew that what he was doing right now was really wrong. He had young grandchildren of his own, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the effect that illegal drugs could have on them in their future years. Gabrielle would go crazy if she ever discovered what he had done. This would definitely be the last time that he would ever get involved with drugs in any way, despite the fantastic money that could be earned. When he delivered the cash to Amel, and then picked up his own cut, that would be it. He would firmly tell Felder and Amel that this one job would be the last for him. That guy called Amel must be laughing his socks off. The bloke was taking no risks at all and just piling up the money. If Amel could pay Alf the amount that he’d suggested, how much was he really making himself because of Alf Kennedy’s greed and stupidity? When Alf got back home after this was all done, he would certainly book a fantastic holiday for him and Gabrielle, and they’d go away somewhere exotic and into some warm sunshine. It would also have to be at some place where he could try his best to forget all of this.
Kennedy raised his sleeve and glanced at his watch. He was on time — five-forty p.m. — and the old, disused barn was there as it had been described, set back slightly on his left-hand side, and with trees flanking its sides. Parked alongside it, and almost out of sight of the main road, sat a bright red Porsche sports car. A tall man in dark blue work clothes stood next to the barn’s huge wooden door, his right hand clutching the silver handle of an orange walking stick, his left hand holding a large white bag by his side. The man’s greying hair was matted, his face distorted by some sort of scarred injury to both cheek bones, and a horizontal green and blue snake had been tattooed from one side of his neck to the other. His face was totally expressionless.
“Great.” muttered Kennedy to himself as he pulled up his car alongside the Porsche. “Just two more minutes or maybe even less than that, and I’ll be on my way back home.”
The man wasn’t smiling, but if he was anything like Amel, that came as no great surprise at all. Kennedy didn’t care. “Just give me the money and I’ll get back home,” he muttered quietly to himself, as he slowly approached the man just moments after tugging the bag from the boot of his car, and hoisting it onto his shoulder.
At the very same moment that Kennedy closed in to face the man in blue clothes, he heard a loud scream of tyres on the road and twisted his head sharply to see three cars skid and slide their way across the rough ground leading up to the barn, finally coming to a halt just yards short of his position. His mouth was still agape as the cars’ doors swung violently open and at least eight men, two of them armed with revolvers, hurtled out of the vehicles and sprinted towards them, shouting loudly as they ran forward.
“Police! Stay where you are!”
“Do not move!”
“Put your hands where I can see them!”
The two leading police officers drove their bodies straight into both of their targets, dropping Alf Kennedy and the dealer to the floor. With a knee painfully pinning him to the ground, Alf’s hands were grabbed tightly and handcuffs snapped into position on his wrists. Alf was then pulled roughly to his feet by the tallest of the eight policemen, who quickly turned his face to one of the others and issued a harsh instruction.
“Check the bags, Charlie, and keep your gloves on whilst you’re doing it.”
Charlie nodded his head and knelt down between the two bags, firstly snapping off two quick close-up pictures and then removing a pair of scissors from his jacket pocket before cutting through the strong cord that was knotted tightly around the top of each one.
The officer quickly pulled and spread open the top of each sack, stared and then sniffed at the contents, before turning back to face his chief. Then the officer pointed a finger in turn towards each sack.
“There’s a big bundle of cash in that one, and enough drug powder in that one to sink a ship.”
“Thanks, Charlie.”
The chief nodded his head in satisfaction, before approaching his two prisoners. “You are both charged with the handling and possession of drugs. You do not need to say anything, but anything that you do say may be recorded and used as evidence in court.”
“Nothing to do with me,” offered the man in dark blue clothes. “I was just passing by.”
Chief Williams couldn’t restrain a grin. “Nice one.” he responded. “I don’t suppose that the red Porsche is yours by any chance is it?”
The dealer hesitated for a moment, and stared at his car for a moment before responding. Denial of the car’s ownership would be pointless.
“Yes.”
“I thought so,” returned the chief before turning to Charlie. “Get it taped off, Charlie, and put a call in to the office. Tell them to send out the forensic lads and ask them to do the usual tests on the vehicle and bags. I don’t think that either of these fellas will be using their cars again for quite some time, so order the vehicle pick-up truck too. Tell the lads also that they’ll need to send out the prisoner transport van.”
Turning his head to face Alf Kennedy, he asked, “Which car is yours?”
Alf struggled to answer the question. By now the stricken man was almost in total despair. Finally, he lifted and pointed two shaking, manacled hands as he croaked his response. “It’s the Mazda, Officer, that one, parked just over there.”
“Do the same with that, Charlie. Tell the lads we’ve got two vehicles to forensically examine and both to be removed from the scene. Someone had better get the car keys from our two guests as well. They certainly won’t be needing them.”
*
A little more than sixty yards from the arrest scene, two cars were parked up just off the curved track that led to the disused barn, both partially hidden from view by several old trees and the heavy undergrowth that surrounded them.
The time was six o’clock, and the cars’ four occupants stood together closely, remaining unseen as they peered from behind two large bushes and continued to watch the scene that had begun to unfold just several minutes earlier.
“We pulled out just in time,” whispered Frank.
“We certainly did,” agreed Roy. “The timing was absolutely perfect. Five or ten minutes earlier and the cops would have caught
us up in time. Ten minutes later, and they could well have missed it all. It’s a damned good job we were close enough to see those buggers pull off road.”
“I’m glad we got out of the way of the cops.” laughed Norman.
“They certainly steamed in, that’s for sure.” agreed Terry.
“No messing.” added Reg. “It reminded me of the old days.”
“I bet those buggers couldn’t believe it.”
“Chief Williams will be chuffed. It’s not every day that you get to pull in crims like that lot. The case will be a doddle, both sides caught totally red-handed and there’ll be no defence whatsoever.”
“Our grandchildren will be in less danger too.”
“Let’s get back home,” suggested Frank.
“Good idea.”
“We’ll go to mine,” offered Frank. “Maybe have a few nips and a takeaway as well.”
CHAPTER 47
“I’m still wondering if we could manufacture something between Harrison’s mob and Thomas’s crew.”
“I’ve been wondering the same, Roy,” said Roy. “It was relatively easy to set up those young lads from the smoke, but it would be a lot harder to do the same for those two gangs.”
“We should be able to think of something,” added Reg.
“We will,” said Frank, “It’s just a matter of time before we come up with something that’s totally foolproof.”
“By the way, have you heard anything from Norman, Terry?”
