by James Hume
The cars dropped them in Main Street at the alleyway beside Rutherglen Bridge, and the team scuttled a hundred yards along the alley until they reached the compound. They had switched off the street light there the previous night, leaving the area adjacent to the offices and storage unit in darkness. The team, dressed entirely in black, blended into the shadows, pretty much hidden from the overlooking tenement blocks.
Tom watched as his team sprung into action. They each had a job to do and had rehearsed it several times. The lead entry man took his wire cutters and cut the fence open to let the team through. They stood against the office block and storage block. The locksmith went to the back door of the office block, and within fifteen seconds had the door open. The two lead ‘heavies’, both ex-commandos, entered the building to immobilise the guard. They reappeared within half a minute and gave the thumbs-up.
Tom and the team leaders had studied the film of the guard at night as he patrolled the compound, typically every hour or so. He wore a heavy, hooded jacket, heavy gloves, dark trousers and heavy boots. On one film the guard had rung Sam’s doorbell. Within a few moments, the curtains twitched, and Sam opened the door. The key to achieving the five-second target, thought Tom. He studied the way the guard walked with a slight limp, the way he stamped his feet and beat his gloves to stay warm as he stood at Sam’s door, and had his substitute guard learn the exact same movements.
The team scuttled around the back of the compound and spread down both sides of Sam’s bungalow. They could now potentially be seen from the tenements, so they had to move quickly now. Tom watched as his substitute guard did his rounds and rang the doorbell at Sam’s house. The guard stamped his feet and beat his gloves. Tom could imagine the curtains twitch and then heard the door open. A voice said, ‘Yes, Gav. What is it?’ before the two lead ‘heavies’ shouted ‘armed police’ and bundled him back through the door.
Tom had a cameraman at his shoulder, to film him as he entered the property. Sam McFadden lay face down on the hall carpet, wrists and ankles cuffed, and a gag in his mouth. Tom reckoned he’d hit the five-second target okay. He knelt on Sam’s back. ‘Mr Sam McFadden, you’re under arrest for breaches of amendments to the Emergency Powers (Defence) (No 2) Act 1940, for possessing, distributing and selling methamphetamine tablets. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’
McFadden wriggled and grunted. Tom checked the cameraman still followed him, and moved through to the lounge. He needed the film in one take without a break, so lawyers could not argue it had been tampered with.
Tom saw the GT Pharma writing bureau in the far corner and headed for it. He had already seen Sandra Maxwell find the secret compartment in the bureau in Thomon’s flat, and had memorised the instructions she’d left. He talked to the camera, opened the bureau, and revealed the secret compartment. It contained two packs of 500 tablets, some bundles of cash, and a passport and ID card in the name of Andrew Jardine. He lifted the bags of tablets to give the camera a close-up view, and then showed the pages of the passport and the ID card to the camera as well. He indicated to the cameraman to cut the film at that point.
The team searched in silence. Tom hoped the other half of his team had the same success in the office and storage blocks. The phone rang. He indicated to his team not to answer it. Then he noticed the female officers at the hallway through to the bedrooms held a woman in a dressing gown. The woman looked angry.
Then another team member came to him. ‘There’s a man at the front door here wants to talk to you, sir. He says he’s the owner of the property.’
Tom went outside to the compound. A tall, grim-faced man, in a Crombie coat over his pyjamas stood and watched him as he emerged. It was Dan McFadden. Tom had seen pictures of him over the years. But Tom still had the initiative, and wanted to keep it.
‘You in charge?’ the man demanded.
‘I am, sir. Chief Inspector Hamilton of the Special Branch.’ He showed his warrant card.
‘Special Branch, huh? So, what the hell’s going on?’
‘I’m sorry, sir. But who are you?’
The man’s lips tightened, clearly angry. ‘I’m Dan McFadden. I own this property. And you’ve got my son trussed up in there. So, what’s going on? Do you have a warrant?’
‘I do, sir.’ He went into his pocket and passed over the warrant.
The man studied it. His lips got even tighter. ‘Where will you take him?’
‘Our HQ in St Andrew’s Square, sir.’
The man pursed his lips. ‘It’s not illegal to sell these tablets.’
‘I’m afraid it is, sir. The law changed ten days ago.’
The man looked Tom up and down. ‘Ten days ago?’ He pursed his lips again. ‘Ten days ago? Well, you won’t hold him long, Chief Inspector. My lawyer will see you shortly.’ He turned and walked off towards his bungalow.
Tom watched him go. That meant he could expect a visit from Vince Pastrano within the hour. The smartest and most expensive criminal lawyer in Scotland, the top choice of the criminal classes, he thought. He’d better get Sam into custody quickly.
He went back into the bungalow and told his team leader to get Sam dressed and take him to HQ. The senior female officer came over and told him she’d advised Sam’s wife to get the children and leave the property. The wife had called her mother-in-law, and they’d go over there until the police released the house.
Tom reckoned he could leave his team to complete their search. He put the contents of the secret compartment into an evidence bag, and went out to his car, which had now appeared in the compound. He picked up the radio phone and asked for Neil Ross, who led the team tasked with arresting Eddie Frame.
As he waited for Neil to come on the line, he thought about Frame. It had taken them weeks to get his name and address. He’d been Mr Anonymous, until they got a steer from a retired Inspector who had dealt with cases against the McFaddens in the thirties.
Neil came on the line. ‘Hi Tom. We’ve got a problem this end. Frame hasn’t turned up at home. The tailing car got blocked in at Tony’s night club. They saw Frame’s car move off, but by the time they got clear, he’d disappeared. We’re still at Greenhead Street. We’ve put out an alert on the car, but it’s a case of sit and wait for the moment, sir.
‘Okay, keep me posted, Neil. I’m headed back to HQ with Sam McFadden. Looks like they already have the lawyers on the job. Talk to you later.’
Pity about Frame, thought Tom. They’d worked out he probably organised the teams in pubs and night clubs, and collected the cash, but they’d no verifiable evidence so far. They needed to catch him with the GT Pharma suitcase, with tablets and cash in the secret compartments, to make the charge stick. Otherwise, they only had circumstantial evidence. Dammit, a loose end, and he hated loose ends.
***
Sandra Maxwell crouched against the wall at the entrance to the manufacturing plant, and waited for the signal to move. She held her satchel case tight against her, and glanced round at Bill Franklin behind her. He gave her a nod. They’d dressed like everyone else, in black, top to toe, with torches strapped to their forehead. They were part of a group of six, that comprised Captains Paige and Whyte, and a translator, led by Barney – Sergeant Barnes. Sandra had the impression Barney felt he’d drawn the short straw. He had to look after a bunch of unfit senior staff, rather than lead the charge, but he hid it well.
Barney hissed, ‘Torches on. Let’s move.’ Sandra switched on her head torch and followed Barney across to the door. Two commandos on guard helped her through the gap where they’d removed a glass panel. Barney moved down a dark corridor, then through a door to his left into the factory area.
A commando at a door on the far side of the factory waved at them to indicate they should move round to their left. Barney led the way, scurried along painted walkways, round several right angles, and headed for the far door.
Suddenly, Sandra heard a
bump and a thump. The group stopped. Bill had bumped into a metal conveyor at a corner, and knocked a box onto the floor. The box had burst and spilled some of its contents. Sandra saw the plastic packs with the red sealing strip, each with five tablets, and realised she should take a few as evidence.
‘Give me five packs, Bill. I need evidence.’
He put the five packs into her satchel. ‘Right, you get on. I’ll tidy this and catch you up.’
Barney nodded. ‘Okay, through that door, along the corridor and then up the stairs at the far end.’ He set off with the other four in his wake.
On the first floor, Conway met them in the corridor. The doors had ‘CLEAR’ signs stuck to them. ‘In here,’ he indicated.
Sandra entered a large ornate dining room. There were two rows of six white cards on the table, some blank, some with numbers, and some with numbers upside down.
‘Just the final two to come,’ he said. ‘Numbers this way mean clear, secure and occupied. Numbers upside down mean clear and secure, but unoccupied.’
A commando came into the room. ‘Number twelve clear and secure, sir. Occupied.’
Conway turned the card over to show the number.
Another commando entered. ‘Number one clear and secure, sir. Occupied.’
Conway turned the card over. ‘Right, we have four rooms occupied on the second floor, one, two, three and four; and four rooms occupied on the third floor, seven, eight, nine and twelve.’ He turned the upside-down numbers to blanks, and said to one of his team. ‘Get the power on, please, sergeant.’ The man left the room.
‘Excuse me, sir.’ The last commando to enter walked over to Conway and whispered in his ear. Conway looked shocked and glanced over to Sandra.
They came over to her. ‘The sergeant says the target is deceased, ma’am.’
Sandra’s jaw dropped. ‘Do we know what happened?’
The sergeant shook his head. ‘We don’t, ma’am. His wife tried to tell us, but we don’t understand German.’
Sandra turned to Doc Whyte, Paige and the translator. ‘Right, let’s all go and see.’ Then turned to Conway and the sergeant. ‘Can you lead the way, please?’
The group left the dining room, went up to the next floor, and entered the bedroom with the number one card on the door. The lights came on. An elderly woman sat cuffed in a chair, a female soldier at her side. The man on the other side of the bed certainly looked dead, thought Sandra. The doctor went over to check. ‘He’s gone, I’m afraid.’
Sandra had a sense of anti-climax, but knelt down beside the woman and waved the translator over. She held the woman’s hands. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ she said. The translator repeated the words in German. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
The woman responded. ‘My husband had cancer. It had gone into the lymph system. There’s no cure, and unbearable pain.’ She glanced over at the vacuum flask on the bedside table. ‘He wanted release, and drank from the glass.’
The doctor picked it up, smelled it and passed it to Paige. They did the same with the vacuum flask. Paige said, ‘We’ll check this out, ma’am.’
Sandra nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She turned to the woman again. ‘Would you like us to move your husband’s body to another room, ma’am?’
The woman watched the translator as he spoke, then turned back to Sandra and nodded.
Sandra said, ‘Would you take care of that, please, sergeant? Put him in room six.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Will do.’
She turned to the woman again. ‘We need to ask you to move out of this room while we check it. Can we help you move somewhere until we’re finished?’
The woman nodded, and pointed to her husband. ‘I’ll stay with him.’
The female soldier said, ‘I’ll look after her ma’am until we’re clear.’
Sandra stood up. ‘That’s good. Thank you.’ She looked over at Conway. ‘Right, Major, let’s see who else we have here.’
They went out into the corridor, and Bill joined them. Sandra explained the target had taken his own life because of severe cancer. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘All that effort too.’
Conway went into the next three bedrooms and asked the senior person to join them.
Sandra said, ‘Right, room two. Who do we have?’
The commando said, ‘Female, ma’am. British passport in the name, Jane Thomson.’
Sandra’s jaw dropped again. ‘Let me see the passport, please.’ It was definitely Jane. What the hell was she doing here? Was she part of the conspiracy? Had she always been part of the conspiracy? ‘What about room three?’
The commando stood to attention. ‘Male, ma’am. British passport in the name of Jonathan Porritt.’ He passed it to Sandra.
Jesus Christ, thought Sandra. What’s going on here? She turned to Conway. ‘Were these bedrooms locked, Major?’
Conway looked at his men. ‘No, ma’am,’ the commandos said in unison.
Sandra thought for a moment. So, they weren’t held under duress then? Otherwise, they could have walked out. So, why are they here?
Bill asked. ‘Is it our Jonathan Porritt?’
She nodded.
‘There must be some mistake. He’s one of our good blokes. I’ve known him for years. We’ve got to free him, surely.’
Sandra looked at him. ‘Could I have a minute, Bill.’ She turned to Conway. ‘Back in a moment.’ She walked Bill down the corridor ten yards, and said to him, very quietly, ‘Look, we’re all tense, but I’d like you to keep your opinions to yourself, Bill. They’re not helpful. I’ll decide who’s good and who’s bad on the basis of evidence, not opinions. I’ve seen too many senior people unmasked as bad guys. So, please keep quiet.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. I’m just shocked.’
They went back to the group. ‘And what about bedroom four?’ she asked.
The commando said, ‘Male. German national. Name of Hans Wolff, ma’am. Address in Nuremberg. Has a warrant card for the Nuremberg Police. He’s also armed, ma’am, with a shoulder holster.’
‘Really? Well, well.’ She wondered how she should handle this. In these group situations, she always started with the least professional and most vulnerable. In this case, it had to be Jane. ‘Let’s go talk to the girl.’
She and Conway and the commando from that room went into bedroom two. A female sat on the floor, with a blanket round her, wrists and ankles cuffed, and a hood over her head. A female soldier stood to attention. The contents of a handbag lay on the bed in a neat pile. ‘Apart from a few clothes, that’s all she has with her, ma’am,’ said the soldier.
Sandra glanced at the pile. She saw a small tin tube and picked it up. Methamphetamine. She opened it and compared the tablets to the ones in her bag. They were identical. Jesus, was Jane addicted to these tablets? Where had she got them? Yet another surprise in a night of surprises. ‘Take the hood and cuffs off, please.’ The soldier did so, and Sandra saw the gag. ‘And the gag as well, please.’
Jane looked up at her. ‘Sandra! How good to see you. Are you here to rescue us?’
Sandra helped her to a chair. ‘Not really. I’m here on another matter. But I’d like to know why you’re here.’
‘They kidnapped me on Thursday.’
‘Oh?. Could you tell me what happened?’
Jane told how Astrid had duped her to take the wrong car, and then how she drank the laced orange juice that knocked her out. Then about her lunch on Friday with Doctor G, the head of Aquila, who had asked her about Karl Brenner. She’d told him what she knew, but only Porritt knew where Brenner was buried. Doctor G wanted to know that to give closure to Brenner’s family. She’d challenged Doctor G about her ex-husband’s death, but Tommy had attacked his man with a gun. It was kill or be killed, he’d said.
Sandra stopped her, and thought about what she’d said. This Doctor G, her target, had been the head of Aquila? Of course, he had. She just hadn’t made the connection. She’d focused on the tablets. But that’s
where the spy business and the drug business came together – at the top. Jesus. Jane’s story sounded plausible. But was it rehearsed? She needed evidence, and turned to Conway, ‘Could you ask Paige to come in here, please, Major?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He left the room and in a few moments came back with Paige.
Sandra took Paige by the arm and went out into the corridor with him and Conway. ‘The girl says she got knocked out by drinking laced orange juice in the car. Could you check whether that car’s still here – I noticed a garage on the way in – and if there’s a container with orange juice that we can test for drugs? I’d just like some independent evidence her story’s true. As soon as you can, please.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ They headed off together, and Sandra went back into the bedroom.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Please continue, Jane.’
Jane went on to tell her about the phone call to Porritt, and the invite to come here last night for dinner. As security, Doctor G had left his son in custody in Nuremberg, but Porritt had also brought along Direktor Wolff of the Nuremberg detectives for extra security. She told Sandra about the dinner, when Porritt handed over details of Brenner’s burial, and then the insights into the Nazi regime. She also said, after her lunch on Friday, Doctor G had allowed her to phone her fiancé, and let him know she was safe and well, and would return on Sunday. That had been a big moment for her.
Sandra smiled. ‘Congratulations.’ She admired the ring. ‘Tell me about him.’
Jane told her about Andreas, and about their experiences and their plans. Sandra wanted her to feel comfortable now.
‘One last point, Jane, I noticed on the bed there, you’ve got methamphetamine tablets. Could you tell me about them, please?’
