by steve higgs
‘Chief Inspector Quinn.’ He answered.
‘Ian it’s Tempest. I just sent you a video clip. Young Joseph has… is not answering his phone. Have you heard from him?’ I picked my words carefully, not wanting to say that he had gone missing because I didn’t not know that to be the case.
‘I have not heard from him.’ He said slowly. ‘Are you saying he is missing?’
‘He reported that he had found the entrance to the underground system I told you about. Against my advice he went in by himself, the clip is from him and shows the underground facility at the Dockyard and the illegal manufacture of counterfeit cigarettes. I haven’t heard from him since. Whether he has switched his phone off and is still sneaking about or has been discovered, I cannot say.’
‘So where is the entrance that he found?’
‘He didn’t say. Check the video.’ I was unhappy about admitting how little I knew, even though Joseph wasn’t my charge or my responsibility, I still felt I had a duty to keep him safe.
‘Wait please.’ I waited while he watched the clip. ‘The footage could be taken anywhere.’ He concluded.
He was right but would have to be a moron to believe it was anywhere other than below the Dockyard.
‘He didn’t… Hold on, where are you?’ CI Quinn asked.
‘At home. I just got up. Also, I should tell you that my father woke up yesterday. He remembers only vague details about the person that attacked him, I think I know who it is, the same person oversaw a beating for me on Tuesday, but a positive ID will not be possible.’
‘Nor helpful.’ He agreed. ‘I need the whole gang, not some lesser minion. If you still don’t know the way into whatever might be beneath the Dockyard, then there is little I can do at this time.’
‘Your man might be missing Quinn. At what point do you organise a rescue? When his body turns up? Or shall we move before that?’ I was pushing him to do more than he was willing to.
‘Mr Michaels.’ We were back on last name terms it seemed. ‘Thus far the only reason my man is even there is due to hearsay on your part. I have taken a leap of faith because I will reluctantly admit that you have a knack for being right. I have no evidence though. Nothing I can reliably use.’ He added when he heard me begin to protest. ‘What you have sent me is not proof that there is a base of criminal operations beneath the Dockyard. It is not sufficient to justify deploying more resources. Even if I wanted to raid the place, I would never be able to get the Superintendent to endorse it.’ It was the first time I had ever heard him refer to someone superior as if it pained him to not be ruler of the universe. ‘No, I’m sorry, Mr Michaels. My hands are tied for now.’
‘Until I risk my life to break in to the criminal’s base of ops and deliver you a risk-free excuse to do your job?’ I snapped in response. ‘What will your excuse be when they fish Joseph’s body from the river later?’ I pressed the red button to disconnect the call, once again at loggerheads with the Chief Inspector. Our truce had not lasted long.
I frowned as I organised my thoughts. The bottom line was that I needed to act soon. Really soon. The two Daves were missing, as was detective sergeant Kushnir and no one was going to help them unless I did. There was a chance they didn’t need rescuing, but I wasn’t prepared to take that chance.
I got off the bed and started moving. I needed a shower, but it could wait. I made do with some deodorant and aftershave, even though I didn’t shave, and a quick brush of my teeth.
I yelled, ‘Come on, dogs.’ Along the corridor to rouse them. As usual they ignored me, content and warm in the duvet. With some exaggerated stomping to get to the bedroom, I scooped them, one under each arm and took them downstairs to start their day as well. Of course, their day consisted mostly of sleeping anyway so I could never understand why they resisted their few chances for activity so much.
I called Jane. I figured she would be on her way to the office by now. It was 0831hrs and as it turned out she had already arrived.
‘Everything alright?’ I asked when she answered in a tone that suggested it was not.
‘Yup. It’s just really freezing this morning.’ I looked out my window. There was a slight frost. Civilians tended to exaggerate about the cold. I kept quiet about it, but in my head, I acknowledged that they had no idea what cold was. Jane fell firmly into that subset, although she has so little body fat and was so slight that perhaps she felt it more keenly than most.
‘Jane, I need you to check a few things this morning. I might not make it to the office at all today, but I also might be able to wrap up the Dockyard case and get back to paid cases.’
‘Okay, Boss. What do you need?’ I relayed my requests to her, laying out what I knew and what I suspected and what I specifically wanted her to look for. ‘You’re not in tomorrow either are you? It’s your friend’s wedding, right?’
‘That’s right.’ I had almost forgotten. What I believed I needed to do today had no guaranteed end time on it, which might make tomorrow a little problematic. I had no intention of being late for the wedding but equally I wasn’t going to leave men in harm’s way either. First, I had to establish that they were in harm’s way, of course.
We ended the call and as Jane got to work on the latest problem, I went out the door. Sliding into my car, I thought about something that had been niggling away at me since Monday. Something I had seen that didn’t add up. I still wasn’t sure what it meant, but if I looked at it from a certain perspective, a lot of what was confusing me about the Dockyard suddenly made sense.
My plan to quickly check on the two Daves proved to be less swift than I had hoped. Traffic through the Medway towns is awful between 0700hrs and 1000hrs every day. School run mums and people going to work clog the main arteries, so my short trip back to Dave Saunder’s place in Gillingham took almost an hour and was bumper to bumper almost the whole way.
He still wasn’t answering the phone and he didn’t respond to my thumping on the door either. A neighbour came out of her house two doors down.
When she saw me, she said, ‘His car’s not here.’ As she checked up and down the road.
‘What does he drive please?’ I asked. If I could find it still parked at the Dockyard it would provide a clear indication that he had arrived at work last night and never left.
‘A tatty old, grey Honda Civic with one blue wing.’ She had her keys in her hand and was getting into her car whether I had more questions or not. I thanked her and turned back to my car as she peeled away from the kerb.
The natural route out of Gillingham took me back to the Dockyard. I was following his neighbour most of the way, her eyes flicking to her rear-view mirror constantly once she saw me behind her. Her paranoia that I was some nutter finally relieved when I took the Dockyard turning.
As I went through the gate to the carpark, Jane called. It was a short conversation in which I mostly listened, and she relayed information to me that confirmed what I had thought likely to be true. It was 1002hrs when I pulled on my handbrake and got out of my car. There were coaches in the carpark already and a stream of recently arrived schoolchildren making their way across to the entrance. Otherwise the carpark was mostly empty, and it was easy to spot the car Dave’s neighbour had described.
It was parked on the far right-hand side of the carpark against a hedge with a number of other cars. The concentration of cars in one area made it look like this was where the staff had elected, or perhaps were instructed to park. Whatever the case, his car was still here so he had not left last night.
It was evidence enough to convince me that he, and by association, the other Dave, had meet with an unfortunate situation. What that meant exactly, I had no idea, but it wasn’t good. If they were being held here, they were not necessarily dead but the longer I took to find them, the greater the likelihood they would meet with an unfortunate end.
I was ill-prepared, but I was going in anyway.
I locked my car, pulled out my phone and called Big Ben.
�
�Hey, buddy. What’s happening?’
‘The Daves are missing.’ I included both even though I hadn’t confirmed anything regarding Dave McKinnon. If he was home safely sleeping in his bed it made no difference to my need to find Dave Saunders, or Joseph for that matter.
‘What’s our play?’ It was a simple question that meant everything in one go. He was in no matter what, by my side until we won even though he had no idea what we were getting into.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ I asked. I knew what he would say, because it was what I would say too. I had to provide an exit option though.
He said, ‘There are some Ukrainians I owe a slap. I would hate to miss my chance.’
Okay then. I had the vaguest sense of a plan.
‘Is that it?’ He asked when I finished outlining it to him. ‘That’s your plan.’
‘Yup.’
‘It’s a little thin mate.’
He wasn’t wrong. There was a piece of the case that didn’t add up. It had been bugging me since Monday although I had only realised what it was this morning. Now that Jane had confirmed it, I wanted to test a theory.
I would be right or wrong.
‘What if you are wrong?’ He asked.
It was a valid concern. ‘Then I am in trouble.’
‘Oh. Well, you’ve thought about it then. For the record, I don’t think this is a good idea.’
‘Neither do I. If you come up with an alternative plan, please let me hear it.’
‘How soon are you going in?’
That was the question. If I waited for other playing pieces to reach their position on the board, I risked whatever fate might be in store for the two Daves and Joseph to reach its appointed time. Time was not my friend. Besides, my plan had a distinct chance of failing two minutes after I started so I would be looking for a new plan anyway.
I shrugged. ‘Right now, mate.’
He was silent at the other end for a while. When he spoke, he said, ‘I’ll get my gear on. I’ll see you later.’
As I walked to the Dockyard visitors’ entrance, I sent one final message and wished I had put better shoes on. My brown leather dress shoes matched my outfit, completing the smart but casual office look I generally went with. As I paid a Ukrainian lady the daily entrance fee and pushed through the barrier under the watchful gaze of a Ukrainian security guard, I considered that the outfit might very well prove to be inappropriate.
My first task was to see Alex Jordan. He wanted evidence and I was going to give it to him.
Alex Jordan’s Office. Thursday, November 24th 1128hrs
I had to go through the lengthy process of going to the Admiral’s building to have them call through to his office with a request that he see me. I then had to wait because he was busy in a meeting of some kind so that by the time I got called forward to go upstairs to see him, I had lost almost an hour and knew that I could have spent the time doing something more constructive.
As I jogged up the stairs, it was concern for the missing men that motivated me. Alex Jordan could make the call that would get the police here. His authority to raid his own facility would remove the hesitation CI Quinn currently felt.
That was what I was about to propose anyway.
Andriy Janiv met me at the door to Alex Jordan’s office. He was wearing a different suit to that which he had been wearing the last time I had seen him. Like Danylo Vakhno’s, it had to be hand-cut in order to fit his enormous frame. What it told me was that there was no shortage of money going around the Ukrainians if a personal assistant could afford multiple hand-made suits.
‘Mr. Michaels, so good to see you again. Mr Jordan is expecting you, please go straight through.’ He led me through the outer office where his desk was located and held the door open to let me into Alex’s private office.
‘Thank you.’ I said as I passed him.
‘Mr. Michaels.’ Once again, Alex Jordan crossed the room to greet me and shake my hand. Behind me Andriy closed the door, shutting himself outside. With my hand still in his, Alex leaned in close to whisper, ‘Do you have something for me?’
‘Indeed, I do.’ I was keeping my volume low, but I wasn’t whispering. In many ways, I was here to call the Ukrainians out. They had played their hand, clearly believing they were unbeatable or invulnerable and could get away with making people vanish if they chose to. ‘You asked for evidence.’ I said, fishing out my phone.
‘Shhh!’ He insisted, panic in his eyes as he looked around the room. Rather than argue or tell him it was time to man-up, I opened the message with the clip and played it.
His eyes widened as he understood what he was seeing, perhaps recognising some of the people in the short film.
‘There is a complex of rooms beneath the Dockyard, dug several centuries ago and accessed via hidden tunnels. Your Ukrainian friends are using them as a secret base for illegal activities. In the room seen in the clip they are manufacturing counterfeit cigarettes which they will sell without paying tax and make a fortune from. Doubtless there are other nefarious enterprises we cannot see.’
He put his hand to his chest as if to steady his heart. ‘Goodness. What do I do?’
‘You call the police.’ I replied, the answer obvious to me. ‘I don’t know where the entrances to the tunnel system are but with a squad of armed officers here, I doubt it will take long to find them.’ He stared at me, caught between a nervous desire to do exactly what I had just suggested and a terrified fear he might get killed by the Ukrainians before he could rid himself of them.
He had gone to sit at his desk, indecision like a mask on his face. I put my hands on the desk and leaned across to get in his face. ‘You do this now or you will never be rid of them. Grow a set, will you? It has to be you that places the call. The police will listen to the man that runs the place calling a raid on his own facility.’
He nodded. ‘Yes. It is time to act.’ He locked eyes with me, opened his mouth and yelled, ‘We’re busted. Come on in.’
Dirty Truth. November 24th 1142hrs
The office door opened to allow Andriy Janiv and Danylo Vakhno to enter. Their faces were impassive, no emotion showing of any kind. They were followed by a pair of the oversized uniformed guards so that I had Alex Jordan in front of me and four men blocking my escape, each of them roughly fifty percent heavier than me. Any thoughts of barrelling through them to escape were benched.
I turned back to face Alex.
He was smiling an exaggerated smile. Putting his arms out on each side in a gesture that said, “Oops”. What he said was, ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Michaels. I’m the bad guy.’
I opened my mouth to speak, the words never aired though as a wicked blow struck my left kidney, shocking me like a bolt of electricity. My legs buckled, and I suffered a brief bout of fuzziness that passed quickly only because my head was now close to the floor.
Strong arms hauled me back up, the two security guards now flanking me and holding me in place.
‘Well done, Mr. Michaels.’ Alex Jordan had taken up a relaxed position sitting on the front edge of his desk, one foot on the carpet, his hands resting lightly in his lap. ‘I underestimated you. At first that is. When you first visited, I saw an amateur with good intentions but too little brain to achieve what no law enforcement agency has been able to. I kept an eye on you though, it was the cautious thing to do and I am a cautious man, Mr Michaels. I will admit I was impressed when you found your way onto the night cleaning crew, but I did expect that Pasha’s tactics would convince you to withdraw.’
My mind was whirling. I needed to fight my way through five men. If I could get out into the open, with the public around me they wouldn’t dare touch me. I was still being held by the two security guys, but their grip had loosened. Waiting wasn’t a clever option.
So, I didn’t.
I jinked forward, a simple tactic designed to make them move their centre of gravity forward. As they dived after me, I countered my direction and as I went backward, I ma
de sure the back of my head connected with the face of the man to my left. His grip on my arm came loose exactly as I had known it would. In anticipation, I had already started to twist so that I could use the whipping effect of my arm coming free to strike upwards at the guard to my right.
They were big, and they were strong, but they were not fighters. Big Ben would have taken them apart. As I broke free of both guards, the second losing his grip as my open palm contacted his jaw to snap his head back, I turned my back on Alex Jordan. Gritting my teeth, I went for Andriy and Danylo.
A nanosecond. That was all the time I had to plan. Grab the arm of whichever one of them moved first, use their weight against them. They would both want to use their greater mass to force me backwards, which I could use to my advantage. If I could pull them off balance all I needed was one accurate strike to land a crippling blow. No matter how big you are, the throat, the testicles, the way the joints of the body work were always just as vulnerable, but bigger men didn’t see the danger coming.
As I lined up on Danylo, the first to move between he and Andriy, the blow from behind caught me by surprise. It was hard and decisive, and wisely it landed in exactly the same spot as the first blow to my left kidney.
This time I threw up.
I had dismissed the smallest man in the room. Why was it that I couldn’t listen to my own advice? While the big men weren’t fighters and relied upon their size and strength to see them through, Alex Jordan needed the skills because he was that much smaller.
Looking up from the floor, I saw in him the lightness and balance of a martial arts master.
‘That was fun.’ He said as he settled back onto the front of his desk again. ‘Get up.’
For a second, I considered replying with a tirade of swearwords. Then I realised he wasn’t talking to me. The two guards I had felled were getting back up and looking not only ashamed but afraid. Alex Jordan really was the big cheese of the operation.
