Bringing Hell

by Larry Igbon

  “OK. I realise that you’re a good cop and I see you’re up against it with Grant, but don’t get in my way. I’ll finish this mob once and for all.” He ended the call.

  Sykes walked over to the window and opened it. It was 26C outside and he was hoping for a breeze; his office was oppressive, and his shirt clung to his body. The ten-inch blades on his desk-fan offered no relief. He set it to ‘oscillate’. Papers blew off his desk, and fine dust particles into his eyes. “Dammit. Shit.” Hot and furious, he collapsed into his chair and slapped the top of his desk.

  His sergeant entered the office to see if there was a problem he could help solve. Sykes thrust the paper, with the details Ramsay had given him, into his hand. “Get these bastards off the street. They’re in those parked cars to intimidate people. Also have Traffic check the registrations. Any tickets, fines, speeding offences bring them in here. Question each of them about everything, before you let them go.”

  The sergeant grinned. “That’s a bit strong isn’t it, Chief?”

  Sykes growled and hammered both fists on his desk as he stood. The fan shot off the desk. The sergeant shot out the door.

  Chapter 8

  It was 5:50 pm, Ramsay was finishing a mug of coffee and getting restless. He went to look at his replacement vehicle.

  He had packed his suitcase, and he brought it to the car. Things might go awry; he had to be ready to respond to any contingency. He kept his passport and ticket, together with his wallet, in the pocket of his jacket.

  The sleek, black Audi SUV was impressive, and ideal for his needs. The keys were where Wallace had left them. After stowing his luggage, he climbed into the car. Oh yes, a choice ride. It was roomy and comfortable. Then, turning on the ignition he felt the urge to drive; he eased out into New Temple Street and away.

  While driving past Craig’s home, he checked both sides of the road. No sign of any gangsters in the street. Well, my inherited property’s secure enough. Then he took off towards Julia’s.

  There were several cars parked at Julia’s place, but none occupied by a brace of watching thugs. Sykes had taken action as discussed.

  For caution’s sake, he drove to the rear of the building. A cursory glance assured him there was no danger there. He hurried to the back door and pressed the intercom button. No response. The temperature had climbed to a sultry 27C, and he realised she might be sunbathing. He glanced at the camera as he buzzed.

  “Tom, hi. Come on up.” The door clicked, and he pushed it open.

  Her door was ajar, so he knocked and entered. “It’s only me.”

  She was wearing a long kimono and a wide smile as she glided towards him. “I’ve just been soaking up the rays,” she said, nodding towards the open French windows.

  “I hope you have your sunscreen. We don’t want you burning, do we?” His eyes twinkled as he drank in her allure.

  She was about to come back with a witty rejoinder when she noticed his left cheek. “Oh, Tom, what happened to you? Are you alright?”

  He had forgotten about the souvenir from Popeye. “Sure, that’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It looks painful. How did it happen?”

  “Grant and his gang gave me a thrashing. I won’t go into the whole story now, I don’t have the time. I mean, let’s not waste time talking about those creeps right now.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

  She seemed upset, and that bothered him. Moving close, he placed his hands on her waist and drew her to him. Their eyes locked, and he leaned in and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they were both content for the next few minutes.

  * * *

  As they sipped iced water, he tried to decide how much he should tell her. Logic told him, none of it. He would take off for home tomorrow, and Sykes would call on her for sure. “Look, Julia,” he held her hand, “you know why I came to London and that I’m going home, as soon as I’m finished. OK?”

  “Well yes, you had to complete a mission, but it’s the Grant gang. You’ve only been here two days and they’ve attacked you. Then there was the fire.”

  “That was a case of arson and the authorities will confirm it. The only problem will be to prove it was Grant.”

  “That’s for Chief Inspector Sykes to prove, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I agree. I found evidence, but Grant re-captured it. There’s no chance of using it now. It’s up to the Fire Investigation Unit to find proof of arson. Once they find that, Sykes can see if it opens a trail he can follow to Grant.”

  “And if not?”

  “We hope for a confession, a betrayal, or a snitch. A headache for Sykes. One thing’s for sure, Grant’ll never answer a charge of arson.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure it’ll never happen.”

  “What are you not telling me? I have a right to know. I am involved, aren’t I?”

  “No, you’re not involved. You’re a victim of criminal activities, but you’re not involved in my conflicts with the Grant gang or the police. I’ve taken steps to make sure you’re safe from any fallout or accusations. You must trust me in this.”

  “I trust you, Tom, I do. You’re scaring the hell out of me, but I’ll always trust you.”

  “This’ll be over tomorrow, and you’ll be able to stop worrying. I’ll be on my way, but I have a friend who will keep you safe.” He got the phone from his pocket. “Here.”

  Putting it on the table, she looked at him and raised her eyebrows, awaiting his explanation.

  “There’s only one number in the phone. When you call it, you’ll reach my friend, Phil. Tell him your name. He’ll then say his name, followed by Kosovo 2000. If you don’t hear those words, discard the phone.”

  “Right. Is he likely to call me on it?”

  “Only if it’s essential. He’ll start the call with the same words: Phil, Kosovo 2000.”

  She reached to top up her glass from the water jug. The jug and the glass clashed, water spilt onto the floor. He lifted the jug from her and poured the water. “Breathe, baby, everything’s OK. There’s no need for you to be nervous.”

  She raised the glass to her lips and had a sip. “So, when are you leaving?”

  “I have an early flight to Lanarca tomorrow, at dawn. My plane leaves at 8:10.”

  Her voice was a whisper as she said, “Tomorrow morning?”

  After taking the glass from her grip, he set it down and looked into her eyes. “This was always my plan, and I expected nothing to change it.”

  “And now?”

  “Much as I’d like a different ending, my plans are still the same.”

  She looked sad, and he hated himself for making her miserable that way. She wiped her eyes with her fingers and forced a smile. They both stood, and she grabbed hold of his hands. “Even though it’s only been two days, you’ve helped me to be positive again. Like a real friend.”

  He drew her arms around his neck. “Have you ever been to Cyprus?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Er, obviously you’ll have to put up with a lot of downtime while your business gets rolling again. I’d like you to come over, spend time together.”

  “Oh? What’s on your mind?”

  “I’d like to end this friendship.”

  She pulled away wide-eyed. “What? Tom, you want to end our friendship?”

  “It’d be the best thing. In fact, we should change our whole relationship.”

  “Now what’s going on?”

  He tugged her arms around him again. “Well, I’m inviting you to spend time with me in my villa in Nicosia—take a wild guess.”

  Without giving her a chance to take any guess, he pressed his lips against hers and passion took over the moment.

  When they pulled apart, she smiled up at him. “Let me think about it. How well do we know each other?”

  “OK.” He grinned. “I’ll be back later to say goodnight. Have an answer for me then.” He made for the door.

  “N
ot so fast.”

  He stopped and turned around. “Wha...?”

  She ran to him and flung her arms around his neck.

  * * *

  On returning to his car, he set off to check that the watchers had not returned to Julia’s or Craig’s. It probably wasn’t necessary, but he would prefer to know that for sure.

  It was 6:20 pm when he cruised past his brother’s house. He smiled as he confirmed there were no parked cars occupied by observers. As he left the street at the other end, he saw a grey van with aluminium ladders stowed on the roof. As he slowed down, he noticed the tinted windows. The rear ones in the doors had blackout curtains. A surveillance vehicle. Ramsay had no doubt that the occupants were monitoring Craig’s place. Good luck with that, chaps. Laughing to himself, he exited the street and went on his way.

  He realised Sykes was taking nothing for granted. The surveillance could achieve one of two things. Track any gang activity aimed at Ramsay, or pinpoint his whereabouts. At least that would be Sykes’ reasoning, and a fair assumption to make. He was mellowing towards the guy.

  The phone trilled, and he pulled over to the kerb. He took it from his pocket and hit the button. “What’s up, Phil?”

  “We have a problem, pal, and it’s a big ‘un.”

  Chapter 9

  The schedule of events was planned well. Yet even with good plans, the need for change may occur. For men like Wallace and Ramsay, redrafting plans on the fly held no fears.

  “OK, Phil, what’s the situation?”

  “Sykes has got a uniformed unit briefed and on standby. Looks like he’s coming to arrest you on the bogus murder charges. He has to follow up the allegations. Given your service record and special training, it’s inevitable.”

  “Not to mention three dead bodies.”

  “And two vicious assaults. They have no choice. This’ll be from Sykes’ superintendent.”

  “I need this, don’t I? Apart from my invisibility, do we have anything else going for us?”

  “Sure. No criminal record, or links to known criminals. You have an excellent service history. Medals and decorations left, right and centre. Don’t worry, the evidence can’t produce a charge that would stick.”

  “I’ve explained that to Sykes, told him he needs to busy himself with something other than me.”

  “We made the phone call about Lou van G and his meeting with Grant. Sykes will respond to that himself. He’s already the senior investigating officer on the Grant gang activities. Lou van G is an international diamond ‘dealer’, so Sykes is bound to call on them at the Bryant.”

  “OK. I need you to let me know when he’s finished with them. With any luck, the van Giersbergan conference should come to an abrupt conclusion. Won’t that piss Grant off?”

  “You’re right, Lou won’t want to stick around where the police can watch him. Could’ve been a big payday for Grant and Holmes. No loss for Lou, he’ll retreat for his own safety and self-preservation.”

  “You’ll be able to inform me when he leaves the Bryant? And what Grant’s plans are, in case it affects our operation?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll have you covered. The exterior CCTV cameras will shut down when Grant and Holmes step outside. Grab ‘em in the car park and get on your way to the Tombs. Their own discreet place of execution. No cameras, no witnesses. About the Blackfriars Bridge. OK I’m sending you an image, so you can see where everything is.”

  The image appeared on Ramsay’s phone. “It’s here. You’ve done a great job, this’ll be a doddle.”

  “Should be. Don’t underestimate the opposition. Grant and Holmes shouldn’t bring any muscle, but it’s always a possibility.”

  “Craig was worth ten Grants. I’ve settled with Burroughs and Entwistle, now I’ll take down the kingpins. Speak to you later.”

  “Roger that. Stay frosty.”

  * * *

  Julia Parry’s mind was in turmoil. Things kept happening. Gangsters had murdered her business partner, Craig Ramsay. She and her partner were once close. Their personal relationship had ended a year ago. Still, his death had caused her distress, and she missed him. His killer was still at large. She knew he was also responsible for a suspected arson attack on her business premises. The police had, so far, arrested no one for either of these crimes. A composed person by nature, since the fire she trusted no one. Except Tom Ramsay.

  The brother of her former partner was in London. He had come with the intention of seeing the murderer punished. In two days, she had grown close to Tom, and she liked the feeling. A smile played about her lips as she thought of him. She recalled how his presence mollified her feelings of disquiet.

  She had her computer opened at her bank account welcome page to check her bank statement. Both her savings and current account balances appeared on this page. As usual, Julia placed her cursor on ‘current account’ without looking at the balance. Now she gaped open-mouthed at the latest transaction. Two million pounds deposited. Total balance two million one thousand, one hundred and ninety pounds. Thinking she had opened someone else’s account, she gasped. She closed the page and exited the account. She laughed out loud. Then stood. Next, she walked around the room for two minutes. Pull yourself together, girl. OK. Open up the bank page and check everything.

  Once seated, she looked at the laptop for a few seconds, then raised the lid. Inputting her details, she selected her current account page again. It was still there. Two million pounds. The incoming money was from a bank transfer, Cayman account K2000K. I can’t breathe.

  Then, having closed and reopened her computer three times, she sat back and shut her eyes. She realised the money was there. She could not call her bank at this hour of the afternoon. An email would only generate an acknowledgement promising action some time later. This was not good. It was ridiculous. An invasion, someone hacking her account. Hackers rob you they don’t leave you millions!

  One thing was obvious, she had to tell someone and seek help. She grabbed her phone and sighed with relief when she heard his voice. “Daddy, something weird has happened with my bank account.”

  “Julia, what is it darling? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it on the phone, can I come to your office right away?”

  “Sure. But calm down while you’re driving. Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out.”

  “OK. I’ll be careful. See you soon.”

  * * *

  Douglas Parry stood at the window of his spacious office. He was enjoying the breeze that wafted over him. In fact, he enjoyed life. He had started out twenty years earlier as an independent financial adviser. Now he was the principal of a successful business consultancy.

  Julia, the eldest of his three daughters, was the apple of his eye. She shared most of his own characteristics, including caution.

  When she arrived, Julia came straight into his office. He held out his arms, saying, “Hello, baby, how’s it all going?”

  She walked into his embrace and hugged him. “Hi, Daddy, wait ‘til you see this.” She pushed away and pointed to his chair. “Sit down and brace yourself.”

  He laughed and sat as she opened her shoulder bag and removed her laptop.

  “I’m ordering coffee, would you like a cup?”

  “Water for me please.” She entered her password and opened her account page again.

  He pressed the intercom switch and asked his secretary to bring the drinks.

  Julia walked to her father’s side and pushed the computer in front of him. “What do you make of this?”

  He looked, then he stared and whistled. “I’m guessing this was as big a surprise to you?”

  “Bigger. What does it mean? What’ll happen?”

  The secretary walked in with a tray and set it down, they both thanked her, and she left the room.

  “Calm down, sweetheart, you’re not in any trouble so stop worrying.” Then, chuckling, “Unless it’s a pay-off for criminal activities?”

  She inclined her hea
d and raised her eyebrows. “I’m freaking out here, I need your help.”

  He waved to a seat, “Sit down, darling, have a drink and we’ll sort this out.”

  She dragged the chair closer to his side of the desk, then took two sips of water.

  He smiled and said, “OK?” She nodded. “Good. Tell me what you know.” He sat back and twirled his pen between his forefinger and thumb.

  She explained how she had opened her on-line statement to check her balance. The two million pounds was a mystery to her. No, she did not recognise the K2000K. It was a shock, and it unsettled her. Her father sat upright and placed his arms on the desk. He took her hand, patted it, and smiled.

  “First, you have nothing to worry about. If the money belongs to somebody else, then the mistake, and the blame, lies elsewhere. Second, we can check with your bank to see if they allocated these funds to the wrong account.”

  “But the bank’s closed now, can’t we do something else?”

  “No, sweetie, we must leave this to the banks. I’ll get in touch with your branch tomorrow morning and tell them that you can’t find the source of this transfer. I’ll explain that you have possession of two million pounds without intent. And you need clarification. I’ll suggest it may be an error.”

  “May be? Are you serious?”

  “I know you’re baffled, but it’s possible that someone deposited the money for you. For your personal benefit. Your bank will resolve this. They have a procedure to follow in cases like this. Account problems are common in banking. Everyone makes mistakes from time to time, even financial experts. Wait until tomorrow. Forget about your millions until I contact your branch manager.”

  “I suppose you’re right, it’s hard to imagine anyone would make that big a mistake though.”