BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Why would anyone admit to something like that?’

  ‘Someone got to George. It wouldn’t be difficult to work out what his weaknesses are if you wanted to manipulate him. If you knew him at all, you would immediately be able to identify them yourself.’

  ‘So he’s taking the rap for someone, is he? What about the evidence? He was with the girl copper when she died, the one who was tied to a chair, and when I nicked him he still had the gun that had killed her in his hand. That’s a little bit more than coughing something you didn’t do, I would say.’

  ‘He had the gun that shot her. Not the gun that killed her.’

  ‘I wouldn’t shoot an unarmed copper tied to a chair with a gag over her mouth, no matter what leverage you had over me. Did you know she was pregnant too?’

  Paul nodded. ‘I didn’t at the time, but yeah I know now.’

  ‘Well, I would need a lot more convincing that he wasn’t the one to fire the shot that killed her. Who did then?’

  ‘This is the thing. This is the thing that keeps me going every day. That woman who was tied to the chair and shot twice was Sam, a good friend of mine—’

  ‘George Elms was also your good friend, I understand,’ Barry interjected.

  ‘He was. But I’m not looking into this for him. He made his choice when he put his hands up to something he didn’t do, because then everyone stopped looking for the person who did. Everyone except me. I want the bastard that killed Sam, and that killed all those officers, to answer for what he did.’

  ‘And now you’re talking to me? Like I might be able to provide answers?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I don’t know anything more about the shootings than what I put in my statement, and I’ve not been involved in any of it since. You’re asking the wrong man.’

  ‘I’ve read your statement.’

  ‘So you know I can’t offer anything to back up your mate.’

  ‘You said that you didn’t feel threatened by George, even when he turned towards you with a gun in his hand.’

  ‘My words were different. I said the man was confused, he was in a lot of pain. I think he was just turning towards a noise he heard. He probably didn’t even know I was there. I also said that if he had seen that I was a police officer, then I believed he would have used the firearm against me and my team.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I read that too, but you have to justify your own use of force, don’t you? Not that you would ever struggle with that. He was a suspected murderer and he had a gun in his hand! A perfect opportunity to shoot the man, use your own brand of justice right there and then. There wouldn’t have been any questions, would there? You would probably have been lauded as a hero. You must have been furious with George at that moment. We all were.’

  ‘I don’t like shooting people unless I have to.’

  ‘Even a man that you believed had shot and killed six police officers in cold blood?’

  ‘He’s answering for that.’

  ‘None of us thinks prison is any kind of justice.’

  ‘He’s in there as a copper. He won’t be having a nice time, you can be sure of that.’

  ‘I don’t think you did believe he had shot anyone. I know you suspected it, we all suspected it, but you didn’t believe it, did you? Not when it came down to it.’

  ‘None of this matters.’ Barry finished his scrambled egg. ‘I’ve really got to get going.’

  ‘Sir, there are people in the intelligence world who don’t believe it either.’ Paul was looking up at Barry, who had got to his feet and was pushing his chair back under the table.

  ‘Is that why you bought me breakfast? To tell me that there are some people out there who aren’t convinced that George Elms is guilty?’

  ‘Not entirely. There’s some work that needs doing, is all. There are some questions that need asking of some nasty people out there, and this is the bit I struggle with. I happen to know that your team are very good at asking questions so that they are answered. I can’t get anyone into an interview room because while George insists he did those shootings, I can’t really arrest anyone else for it.’

  ‘You could if you had any evidence. And I would suggest that’s where your problem lies.’

  Paul smiled cheerily. ‘I know what you’re saying. Sometimes an investigation will get stuck between a rock and a hard place. That’s when you need one of them forcibly removed. I don’t have enough evidence to get someone else in to talk to me because I can’t go out and ask the right questions of the right people. I’m grounded here.’

  ‘I’m sure you know how my team and I get tasked. There are proper channels to go through. If you want someone found and spoken to, you put in a request and we do what we can to help. I don’t accept jobs over breakfast.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ Paul got to his feet. ‘Sir, on that night a very senior police officer ordered you to murder George Elms. I’ve heard the tapes from the radio traffic, but there are also records of phone calls to you around the same time, from the same person, and I bet they were making the same demands.’

  Barry had turned to walk away but now came back to where Paul stood. He lowered his voice. ‘There are no issues over my actions on that night.’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘Then you’re speaking to the wrong person.’ Barry turned away.

  ‘Has she ever mentioned Ed Kavski to you?’

  Barry slowed, and turned his head slightly.

  ‘Did you ever wonder why Webb wanted George Elms dead?’ Paul asked.

  Barry walked away.

  CHAPTER 13

  ‘So you understand that you are being released, and this matter is now closed as far as we are concerned. However, you may be liable to be re-arrested if any new evidence comes to light. Does that make sense?’

  Tony Robson looked up at the custody sergeant. The sergeant’s stern expression didn’t really suit him.

  ‘It doesn’t really, no. I was sat in that cell coming to terms with a prison sentence and now you’re telling me I get to go, and you’re done with me. Is that right? I mean, what changed?’

  The sergeant leant on his elbows, his hands clasped together, and a genuine smile broke through.

  ‘Maybe this is your lucky day.’

  * * *

  As the heavy metal gate clanked shut, Tony thanked the junior officer who had been tasked with escorting him off the premises. He watched as the officer walked back towards the entrance to the custody area. At no point during the nearly twenty-three hours he had been sitting in there, had he considered that he would just be turfed out and told to go home. He might have cried if it wasn’t for his urgent need to get home and see his son.

  He’d been kicked out of a side gate. The nearest taxi rank wasn’t far, and it was a pleasant afternoon. The sun was starting to hang lower in the sky, earlier now as September neared its end, but it was still strong, and he walked right into it as he started towards the path. He closed his eyes against the warmth and a big smile spread across his face. Exhaustion and desperation gave way to relief, and a sudden feeling of hope that just maybe everything would work out okay for him and his boy. He didn’t know how, but maybe their luck was starting to turn.

  The path opened out to the wide expanse of Churchill Avenue. It was one of the main routes around the top end of the town, two wide, one-way roads feeding traffic in different directions with a ten-metre grassy expanse between them, dotted with benches, well-established trees, and colourful flowerbeds.

  Tony was still smiling when the white Ford Transit van stopped a few metres behind him. Three men jumped out of the back, running as hard as they could towards him. The lead man was carrying a black sack made of tough plastic. Suddenly Tony’s world went dark, the warmth of the sun extinguished in an instant. The bag tightened on his face, and pressed against his nose. His mouth opened wide and he sucked the bag into his mouth in his attempts to breathe. Tony brought his hands up to wrench off the bag, and received a punch in his ab
domen. The street was busy, cars were passing but none stopped. Concealed by a solid row of parked cars, the men dragged Tony to the van. Blows rained down on him and he heard voices, threatening further violence. Tony was thrown sideways into the van, landing hard on the corrugated metal floor. He could see nothing beneath the bag, and, unable to breathe, he soon lost consciousness.

  It was all over in less than ten seconds.

  * * *

  He awoke with a start. He tried to move his hands and feet but they were bound with duct tape, his wrists pinned behind his back around the back of a chair. His ankles were taped and crossed beneath the chair. He could taste something metallic that caused him to swallow repeatedly.

  He was sitting in the middle of a large, empty storage area. The light grey corrugated metal walls looked relatively new. The concrete floor was scratched, with large, discoloured patches as if heavy objects had been dragged across the floor. At the far end was a metal silo. Tony could see some sort of vegetation falling out of the far side. The air was still, with a pungent smell of compost. A mini digger was parked up at the far end, almost against the metal wall, its long arm outstretched so the bucket was resting on the floor. Tony could hear the sound of larger diggers, but they were distant, their sound carried on the breeze that occasionally drifted through the high slit windows. These were positioned so that one end of the building had light while the other skulked in darkness. A pigeon fidgeted in the roof, directly above his head.

  Tony’s head hurt. His whole body ached, and the solid wooden chair wasn’t helping. A thick spindle ran down the back, and it pressed against him.

  Tony heard what sounded like a large door lifting in stages somewhere behind him. He didn’t try and turn. He kept his head still, eyes forward, jaw clamped shut. Tony could hear the clang of a metal chain. The heavy tread of several pairs of boots made their way towards him.

  ‘This is him, is it? Langthorne’s latest rat?’ Ed Kavski stepped around the prisoner. Lee Chivers stood beside him, with a third man somewhere further back. Tony could hear the rattle of the door being secured. The footsteps drew closer. Tony recognised “John,” the doorman who had got him into this shit. He glared at John and waited.

  Ed Kavski looked at John, who nodded.

  ‘This is the guy I set you up with.’ John was avoiding Tony’s glare. Tony shook his head and turned his attention to Ed. It was clear that he was the main man. He was well-built, his arms strong and well defined. His hair was cropped close to his scalp and tattoos climbed from his torso up his neck and down both his arms. One of his arms wore a full sleeve of tribal bands and jagged lightning bolts.

  ‘Do you understand your situation then, my friend? ’Cause it’s only fair that you know what this is all about.’

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve met,’ Tony said. ‘And we’re not friends. I wouldn’t treat a dog the way you’ve treated me.’

  ‘What about a rat?’ Ed came closer and thrust his face towards the bound man. He seemed to be inspecting every part of Tony’s face up close. His lips twisted into a smile. ‘No one likes rats, do they?’

  ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.’

  Ed stood up. ‘That attitude won’t get you very far, Tony. Let me tell you that straight from the off. Or at least it won’t get you very long. You see, I have to look at what I know. You get nicked with three kilos of my gear, right? I know the system because I used to be part of all that shit, see. So I know that they don’t let you walk for that, no matter what you say to them. That is, unless you make some sort of deal, unless they see you as some sort of opportunity. The sort of bloke that’s not been in trouble before and doesn’t really belong behind the door for moving gear around the county. The sort of bloke that will do anything to stay out, so he can look after his cripple boy.’

  Tony struggled against the restraints.

  ‘No need to get emotional now, Tony. You ain’t getting out of them, mate, and even if you did, what do you fancy you’re gonna do? You’re not made for this lark, are you? That’s why they got at you, isn’t it?’ Ed walked round behind the chair and spoke into Tony’s right ear. ‘That’s why I can see a way out of this for you. If it was one of these blokes here that had turned, that had agreed to work for the coppers, against me, well that would be unforgiveable. I can’t accept that from these blokes. But you? You’re just trying to keep your son safe and maybe you don’t know the rules.’

  ‘I’m not working for anyone. They didn’t offer me anything, they don’t expect anything back from me — nothing at all. They just let me go.’

  ‘They just let you go?’ Ed faced Tony again. Lee stared intently at Tony the whole time. John was on his other side.

  ‘They just let me go.’ Tony swallowed. Even he didn’t understand why they had.

  ‘You see, that attitude gives me a real problem, Tony. If you were willing to talk to me, to tell me what was said, what was offered and what you told them in return, then we could start to work this out. But right now, every second you spend in my company is bad for me and for my boys here. It puts me at risk, and I don’t take risks that I don’t have to.’

  ‘I don’t know what else I can say to you. They said I was free to go. I was expecting to be sent to prison, and I didn’t think I would be seeing my son again. Then the custody bloke told me to go home. I wasn’t going to stick around and ask if they were sure.’

  Ed’s face twisted into a sort of smile. ‘No, of course you weren’t. Couldn’t believe your luck, I bet. Except there’s no such thing as luck when it comes to the filth. John here recommended you, so it reflects on him, too. The man went out on a limb for you. He said you were the sort of bloke we could rely on. So if that’s not the case, if you’re not going to talk to us about what went on in there, and what you said to them, then John here is going to have to be the man to put it right. To put you right.’

  ‘No comment. That’s all I said. Some inspector talked to me in the cell about my boy and he told me to say nothing in interview. I did what he said and the next thing I know I’m walking home.’

  ‘What inspector?’

  ‘I don’t know. He said his name but I can’t remember it. I wasn’t taking notes.’

  Ed screwed up his face. ‘You want me to believe that some inspector that you don’t even know took a risk like that for no good reason? Just to help you out? Now I know you’re lying.’ He spat, then nodded at John. ‘Time to make it right.’

  John took a step forward, and Ed and the other men seemed to melt into the background. His right hand had been behind his back and he brought it forward. He was holding a black pistol. He put the barrel against the side of Tony’s head. He hesitated for a brief moment.

  ‘Sorry, Tony’ he said, and pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER 14

  ‘Can I help you?’ the assistant said.

  Tan and Spray was a small shop just off Hythe’s high street. It offered stand-up tanning booths in five-minute slots. The girl, tall, slim and blonde and barely out of her teens, lowered her pink smartphone ever so slightly and looked at him with a bored expression.

  ‘I’m here to see Tommy,’ said Kane Forley. ‘He still works out of here, right?’

  The blonde girl lowered her phone further. ‘Do you need a go in a tanning pod?’

  ‘To be honest, love, I’m not a massive fan of the orange look. I need to speak to Tommy. Can you let him know I’m on my way down?’

  Kane started to walk round the counter, towards the rear of the shop, where he knew he would find a door to the basement. The girl stepped out and blocked his way.

  ‘There’s no one else here, mate. This is a tanning gaff. There’s no one back there.’

  Kane didn’t hesitate. He slapped her face, a stinging blow with the back of his hand. She reeled and fell back behind the desk. She struggled to her feet just as Kane entered the back of the shop.

  The door to the basement was flimsy, and Kane walked through, down a steep flight of stairs where
the light grew progressively dimmer as he descended.

  The door at the bottom was a different affair altogether. The hinges were covered with metal plates so the door couldn’t be taken out, at least not quickly. Kane wasn’t about to try. He knew that the man sitting on the other side was the biggest arms dealer this side of London.

  He knocked.

  Coming down the stairs, he had been well aware of the cameras. Two more pointed at him from above the door, which clicked and shivered. Kane pushed it open.

  The door had swung away from him, revealing another corridor. It was all just as he remembered, right down to the white walls and the absence of natural light. The only light emanated from a door on the right hand side. Behind it sat Tommy Cotter, frowning.

  ‘Tommy-boy!’ Kane stretched out his hand. Tommy was sitting back, hands together, resting on his considerable stomach. His shirt was pulled tight over trousers that did little to hide his bulk. He didn’t move.

  ‘You didn’t have to hit her,’ Tommy said, his voice flat.

  Kane jabbed a thumb backwards. ‘The girl upstairs?’

  ‘Jixy. She’s a good girl — does her job right.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tommy. You’re right. But she wasn’t playing ball, you know? She wasn’t being exactly forthcoming.’

  ‘That is her job. That’s what I meant by doing it right.’

  ‘Sorry, like I said. I’ll make it up to you.’

  ‘Not to me. I ain’t the one with a swollen face. You need to make it good with Jixy.’ Tommy turned his attention to the numerous flat-screen monitors hanging on the wall in front of him. Jixy had moved to a mirror on the wall and was touching the side of her face. She looked upset.

  ‘She’ll be sweet. I’ll make it good.’

  ‘What are you doing here, Kane?’

  Kane sniffed. ‘Same reason I came here last time, Tommy. There’s only one reason to come and see you, ain’t there? No offence.’

  Tommy was looking intently at Kane. It made him feel self-conscious. He wiped his brow with his sleeve.