by Tim Heath
“Yes, perfectly, sir.”
Jack went over to the doctor as a team of men were lifting Terry’s body onto a bed and they proceeded to take it away. The doctor turned to Jack and said:
“All initial signs would say his heart gave out. He wasn’t a small man, after all. Bad heart combined with all the stress of being arrested and his crimes exposed, could easily have set this off.”
“Thanks Doc. Once you have the results please report back to me — only me. Is that clear?”
“Yes...Is there a problem?”
“No, just a procedure thing. Here’s my mobile number. The first you hear, we have a chat on that, OK.”
The Doctor took the card and put it in his pocket, a little concerned by the nature of the conversation but he decided just to leave the matter at that and just do as he’d been requested. He’d have results back anyway in about two hours and was almost certain that they’d prove some form of heart attack.
**********
Nigel Gamble had spent a good hour walking around his own secluded garden, hidden from the rest of his estate by high razor topped walls and away from prying eyes, so he could be himself. He liked to walk around and think, brushing his fingers through shrubs like his specially imported Japanese Acer. The Acer stood proudly as the centre piece of this small haven that he’d had built some years back not long after he’d moved there.
Nigel was getting concerned. Aware that in time there would be people on a mission to take away all he’d gained, he feared the man that would be able to find him, the one who knew of him — the one who knew his darkest secrets. He didn’t know when or from where they’d come but as the years had passed he had become more and more troubled by the prospect, to the point that nothing was safe. Now he largely lived this secluded lifestyle, richer than he’d ever dreamt possible and yet a prisoner to his own fears.
Never having known quite how long he’d have before they would come after him, Nigel was quite sure that this latest threat, ‘Robert,’ was the man and this was eating away at Nigel, so that for the first time in twenty years, he wasn’t able to sleep. Breathing in the fresh country air, Nigel knew that clear thinking was required and this was what he desired. Remembering about something that he had passed on to his technological company Ample Tech a year ago, he thought that now would be a great time to test it out. Back then he’d come across a revolutionary piece of tracking technology that he’d purchased before passing it on to a team at Ample Tech with the strict instructions to not only keep it under wraps, but to get to know how it worked inside out, to then use its science to develop further things as well as to improve the efficiency and worth of technologies that already existed.
The magic of this new piece of technology was that while existing technology was available in a specific format to trace telephone calls, or finger prints, or voice recognition, this device did all these and much more, making it ruthless in its ability to not only track but also to predict the location of the person being investigated. Guided by satellites, which Nigel already had in place, once an individual’s trail was picked up there was no escape, it was able to predict and track every possible route that they could have taken until settling upon their current exact location to the nearest few metres and picking up on any further communication coming from those precise co-ordinates. When a target was actively communicating with anyone the machine’s ability was unrivalled and it would revolutionise the way tracking was done. When Nigel had purchased it, it had been called the Total Hawk Eye Defence System (THEDS) but he thought that a new more appropriate name was now required and therefore settled upon the ‘Genesis System’ as Nigel knew that its worldwide release would bring everything back to square one so that this device would become the new starting point for all further advances.
Realising that his team at Ample Tech would not have had their hands on the Genesis System for very long before he’d want it operational, he needed to think of the best way to get them to release it for him. He planned that he’d put it into the hands of a specialist security wing of the government that he had helped set up, funding it completely out of his own wealth, part of a so-called gesture to his beloved country by giving them something that would keep them safe. Of course the real reason was far more selfish and by keeping these people on his side, Nigel knew that when the time came he’d always have the upper hand — which was the only way Nigel Gamble knew how to be.
Picking up his mobile phone — even that had its own satellite — he went to the speed dial for Ample Tech and called the number, the phone ringing a couple of times before a female voice answered. Speaking for as little time as he could, which was his usual habit, he outlined what he wanted and who the system was meant to be passed to, being kept off the open market, not even to be made available to the government. He’d said how it would be tested properly by these people and that in time the global launch would make Ample Tech the world’s market leader and it’d finally finish off a number of their rivals.
By the end of the call Nigel was happy. Everything would be done as requested, of course, and they’d promised that they would do it straight away. Nigel knew he’d now have to speak to his contact at the security agency to make them aware of what he was sending them and that he’d soon provide the details of the person they were to test it on and then let him know as soon as they had found him. Thirty minutes later he was smiling again, happy with his morning’s work and now making his way back up towards the house again. He told himself as he went inside that maybe he’d be able to sleep a lot easier in a few days after all.
**********
Having finished the autopsy of Terry Goldman, a call was put in to DCI Jack Derry as requested.
“Hello, Jack. Look, I have the results in. It was a total cardiac arrest that killed that young man, a major one that would have killed him instantly in all likelihood.”
“Oh, thanks Doc. I’m just not sure about all this. Something maybe doesn’t fit correctly. Is there anything, at all, about the body that might show any sign of foul play?”
“Look,” the doctor said, a little taken aback that his professional viewpoint was being questioned. “I don’t know what you are looking for but I’m certain on this.” He paused for a brief moment. “OK, there was a tiny bit of bruising around one wrist, but that would have been when you cuffed him behind his back, right?”
“No, he walked out his office with us, we didn’t cuff him. What was the bruising?”
“It is probably nothing, Jack. I really think you need to put this one to bed now. There’s nothing there. I’ve established the cause of death, what more am I to do? He’s not the only body I have to check today you know. I can’t afford to waste all this time looking for what isn’t there!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. Please, can you just check once more for anything unusual?”
“And was there foul play, Jack? Is this what it’s about? One of your guys got out of hand again?”
“No, nothing like that. Please just one more check. Look for the unexpected. For me, my friend. You know I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”
“OK, Jack, for you. Look, I can’t promise it straight away as I do have others to do but I will check one more time before I sign off on it. You owe me one!”
**********
Tommy Lawrence left the board room having spent the last hour in meetings being introduced to the existing back room staff and then the members of the board, to which he now became the newest addition.
Clearly there had been a lot of hostility in the air to start with and Tommy had done his best to calm the fears of all. Still, he had some way to go to get the most long standing members on side. All they could see was the large changes that were happening to their club by these new people and they were not comfortable with too much change — which Tommy had known was the reason for the sporting ‘nothingness’ that the club had seen over the last decades. The contrast between the team his father had so fervently followed and the team he now m
anaged today was massive. But one day soon he hoped that maybe the glory days would return, but it had to be through youth, which is what he’d told the guys just now. They were all very quiet, remaining so cautious, and afraid to say anything wrong that might see them out of a job.
It was the subject of the youth policy that had caused most heads to turn. It was clear from the way Tommy spoke about it that something was going on behind the scenes and even though no one in the meeting would dare say it, most thought that the new owners were telling Tommy how to do things and this made them think less of the club’s new manager.
Tommy however walked with a spring in his step back to his freshly decorated office having completed his first week in the job. His main battles had been with all the established people, be they playing staff or board room members. He was very confident in his own ability though and knew that if they just gave him the time they’d all soon understand. Having said he wasn’t going to get involved for the first match due to the events all happening so quickly, he’d sat in the directors box, alone, to see his new side stumble into the half time break 2-0 down, the coaching staff looking defeated already as they walked into the dressing room about to give the half-time team talk. Angry at this, Tommy couldn’t help himself and went down into the dressing room taking over from them. Initially a little friction arose but with time short, Tommy started praising the things he’d spotted that they’d been doing well. Then having noticed areas of weakness in their opponents, that the team hadn’t exploited in the first half, he started detailing ways to take advantage in the second half. The lads left the dressing room inspired and the 2-2 draw they went on to get only won Tommy respect from his playing staff, while to everyone on the outside who had been told the new boss was watching from the stands, no one was any the wiser as to the reason for the turn around. This in itself took a lot of pressure off the new manager, and meant he could face the media presence he knew there would be at his first official game in charge the following week, safe in the knowledge that his players could perform for him, which only made him feel more pleased with his own progress.
Whether there would be any new players by then, Tommy wasn’t sure. He’d been working on the transfer of Clint Powers and had not long been given some really positive news. Not only was Clint yet to sign any professional contract, he was also quite open to the idea of working again with Tommy and being part of a revolutionary young side, which is how Tommy had described it when he’d spoken to Clint the other morning. If he signed for them, Tommy knew that there would no doubt be some compensation to pay somewhere down the line but that wasn’t an issue. What excited him was the thought of grabbing one of England’s biggest prospects right from under the noses of the great Manchester United and having him join them instead. Surely that would really put them on the map, though clearly Powers wouldn’t be able to turn things around on his own. Tommy knew that there were these other players that Brendan Charles had insisted on and he’d take whatever he was given, but Powers would be a real catch.
Encouraged by a voice mail message that he’d just listened to on his mobile, Tommy was looking at his diary to see when he could arrange for Powers to come down for a medical. Then a second message played, this one from Brendan, which confirmed the arrival of three new youth players due to arrive the following morning.
“All in a day’s work,” he said to himself. “All in a day’s work!”
**********
At the morgue, the doctor went back to re-check the body of Terry Goldman, which he’d promised DCI Jack Derry he’d do. Having caught up on things, he decided to do it before it got busy again. Walking into the room where the body had been, he was a little frustrated to find that it had been moved. Turning to an attendant working just outside the room he said, “Can you tell me where Goldman has been moved to, please?”
“Just a moment…,” the attendant said, thumbing through a pile of papers before picking up a folder. “Yes, taken to the Crematorium three hours ago as requested. Signed off by DCI Derry at their end following your results from the post-mortem. Is there a problem?”
“No,” he said, a little confused. “Was there no request for the body to be released to the relatives?”
“No, sir, there wasn’t. Maybe there were none? Or maybe since the guy just killed a man they didn’t want anything to do with him. Anyway, he’s ashes by now. Considering some of the people we have through these doors, he’s hardly a loss to society is he, with all due respect.”
“Yes, thank you.”
The doctor walked back to his office and picked up Jack’s card again, dialling the number on his office phone. Getting through he said, “Jack, so you came to the same conclusion then about Goldman and closed the book?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”
“Well, you asked me to have another look and before I even get back to you, you have him taken away.”
“To where?”
“To the Crematorium, of course! You signed off on it a few hours ago.”
“The hell I did!” Jack said, jumping up out of his seat.
DCI Jack Derry was fuming, angry that someone had done this and now more aware than ever that something just didn’t smell right. ‘What if there had been someone in Goldman’s cell before his death and the things Goldman had started to suggest were true? And what if there had been something on the body which was now lost, what did it all mean? What was being covered up, if indeed these were not just unfortunate coincidences?’ But to fake his own approval for the body to be destroyed must only have meant the instruction came from the station, in which all the other events had also been situated. Being sure that something was wrong, Jack started pacing around his office, thinking things through some more. He wasn’t sure at first what it all meant. Goldman’s profile didn’t fit that of someone in organised crime. Yes, clearly he was into some depraved sexual preferences but this was different. But then he thought, ‘what if the key wasn’t Goldman but Simon Allen? What if Goldman was used to get to Allen and then the trail was just covered up?’ But Jack had seen the file on Allen. A quiet man who kept himself to himself. It didn’t fit that he’d have something running much deeper either, something that would have thrown him into the sort of troubled waters that leads to bodies in dark passageways and corpses going missing. ‘But then what if Allen had just stumbled across something himself unexpectedly, which had in turn led to swift action against him before his revelations could be disclosed? Yes,’ he thought to himself, ‘maybe that was it. I need to speak to Mary Ingham to see what he was working on,’ and picking up his phone he was back into things, thinking clearly again and freshly invigorated for the battle ahead.
Chapter 11
The following day Tommy Lawrence had arrived at the stadium before seven, because he knew things were just starting to happen and he wanted to get on with it all — he just could not wait. Having had confirmation from Brendan yesterday that there would be three of the new younger players arriving today, he’d partly got in early to prepare for this and read through their background reports, which Brendan had promised would be sitting on his fax machine first thing. True enough, as he walked into his dark but warm office, switching all the lights on, there on the fax sat some sheets of paper.
Placing his cup of tea on the desk and laying the newspaper in his tray, he went over eagerly to pick up the fax and read about his new players. The cover sheet had their three names — Jim Tinger, Jack Dime and Robbie Smith — together with their ages, dates of birth and current club, if indeed they played for a team. Noticing they were all only seventeen years old, Jack Dime only by three weeks, he read eagerly two sheets on each which detailed where they lived, what experience they had, their position and details on their personalities, especially the things that made them tick, as well as the areas that Tommy would need to work on. Finishing them he sat back in his chair, picking up his tea, which was now starting to get cold, and drank it quickly, while thinking through what he had just read. Th
irty minutes later, having busied himself with paperwork and planning, Tommy was aware of a knock at the door and his head coach, Chris Phillips, walked in as scheduled for a meeting ahead of the imminent arrivals.
“Chris mate, good to see you.”
Tommy was always being very informal and a lot of the players and staff still did not know how to address him which made them feel a little awkward. Tommy was totally unaware of this and didn’t really mind how people addressed him, as long as there was respect and honesty. Chris took a seat and sat there listening.
“I’ve got three new lads lined up today to join us,” Tommy said, making sure he gave the impression that he was the one who had been doing all the hard work.
“Jim Tinger — seventeen years four months — Centre Half playing up in Doncaster, at the moment working part-time in a pub. Next we have Jack Dime, just turned seventeen, midfield player who’s just coming through the Wycombe Wanderers’ academy. Pacy lad who’s good in the air and can hold his own. He did three months in a young offenders’ institute a year back after he knocked out two guys in a bar fight. One he said had been eyeing his girl and when he went over to him, the other guy and his mate jumped him but soon they were down on the floor with bloodied heads. We may have to keep this lad’s temper in check! Finally we have Robbie Smith. Three months off his eighteenth birthday. He had been part of the England Under 15s and 16s set up but slipped under the radar lately. Holds the record for the most goals in the Cheshire Schools’ league and there’s been plenty of pros who started way back at that level. He had one and a half years at the Arsenal academy but his home life fell apart during that time and they released him last summer. Since then he’s been working at the family shop in Timperley, Cheshire, but keeping his hand in the game occasionally.”
