The Robert Finlay Trilogy

by Matt Johnson

  ‘I mean, isn’t the most obvious answer likely to be the right one? That they were having some fun and something went badly wrong.’

  ‘I refuse to believe that Jen,’ I said. ‘But I guess you’re right, I’ll only know for sure when I get the chance to ask him myself.’

  ‘And God only knows what he was doing with that gun in his car,’ she said.

  ‘He has some kit stashed, you know that as well as I do. But he lost the Browning he’d kept from the old days when that terrorist attacked him last year. And the Superintendent from CIB said it was a Glock they found. He’s never had a Glock so far as I know.’

  ‘And that’s the point – only as far as you know.’ Jenny leaned towards me, her hand resting on my knee. ‘Look, it doesn’t look good for him, I accept. But I’m sure he’ll get the best of help from the Police Federation. All you should do is be there to support him.’

  ‘We go back a long way.’

  ‘There are some things that even you don’t have the power to achieve, Robert. If he needs your help, he’ll ask for it.’

  ‘I’ll have to go and see him.’

  ‘When the time is right, I know. But he’ll have the best legal support possible, I’m sure.’

  Jenny’s suggestion of opening a bottle of wine turned out to be a good one. I wasn’t sure that alcohol fell within any recommendation likely to be offered by a doctor, but it worked for me. I relaxed, we talked more and by nine o’clock we were already talking about heading to bed.

  I was washing up the wine glasses when Nina phoned. She was at home and wanted to offer sympathies regarding Kevin. Bill Grahamslaw had let my Superintendent know what had been going on and why I had been told to head home early. He, in turn, had told Nina and Matt Miller.

  ‘Mellor will get his, one day,’ she said.

  ‘He has a job to do,’ I replied in as noncommittal a tone as I could muster. I wanted there to be no clue, no inkling at all I was hoping to stop Mellor doing just that.

  ‘He’s a bully, nothing more, nothing less. And my experience of people like him is they all have something they need to keep hidden, some little skeleton in their past that will one day appear to bite them on the arse.’

  I laughed quietly. ‘Wouldn’t we all like to be a fly on the wall when that happens?’

  ‘Too bloody right. Do you want me to keep you updated on what happens to your friend?’

  ‘Could you do that?’

  ‘Easy. An old girlfriend of mine is on the enquiry. She won’t be in on the interviews and such, but I’ll be able to find out if they decide to charge him or possibly any significant developments.’

  ‘Mellor seemed to be suggesting it’s inevitable he’ll be charged.’

  ‘He doesn’t have the final say – the CPS do. And if the Crown Prosecution decision is no, even Mellor can’t overrule it.’

  ‘What’s your gut feeling?’

  Nina hesitated. ‘At the end of the day a woman is dead and justice has to be seen to be done. So, be prepared for the worst, Finlay. Even if the case is weak, prosecutions like this really have to go in front of a jury otherwise we get accused of looking after our own.’

  ‘What if he’s not fit to be interviewed … if the hospital keep him in?’

  ‘All that would have happened then is the detention clock goes on hold until he’s back in the cells. But that’s irrelevant now … I thought you knew? He’s already at Barkingside nick.’

  ‘Really? That was quick.’

  ‘Possibly. Anyway, my guess is they will have a prelim interview with him this evening and then give him an overnighter in the cells ready to get stuck in tomorrow morning.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Knowing Mellor, he’ll work by the book. He might apply to a court to extend Kevin’s detention period or they can charge him and then it would probably be a remand in custody. Whichever way it goes, he’ll be appearing at court within a couple of days, I’d say.’

  As we ended the call, Nina suggested I take the next day off and give myself the space to do some thinking.

  I agreed with her, and as I saw Jenny nod her head in response, I figured she did too.

  Chapter 31

  I slept surprisingly well that night. Not that I felt particularly calm or rested, quite the opposite in fact, but some good hot food and several glasses of my favourite red and I was soon drifting off into the land of nod. I only opened my eyes as the curtains were pulled back and, a moment later, a familiar hand squeezed my shoulder.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ Jenny asked, her voice still showing concern.

  ‘OK … it’s almost like yesterday was all a bit of a dream,’ I mumbled in response.

  ‘You snored all night, nearly,’ she smiled as she handed me a large mug of tea.

  Dazzled by the morning light, I focussed hard on the clock near the bed. It was already nine o’clock. ‘Anything on the news about Kevin?’ I asked.

  ‘And you talked in your sleep as well,’ Jenny replied, tapping my nose playfully. ‘Just as well it was his name you were calling out and not some woman’s.’

  ‘What was I saying?’ I sipped at the hot liquid, enjoying the sense of relief as it eased the dryness in my throat.

  ‘Nothing I could make out apart from the name Kevin. What have you got planned for today?’

  ‘I haven’t really. But, after yesterday, I guess I’ll just take it easy. So, what about the news? Anything being said?’

  ‘Nothing at all. And, if you’re going to be home, you can drive me to the shops. Make a nice change to have someone carry Charlie while I load up the trolley.’

  I showered while Jenny drove Becky to the pre-school group she now went to every weekday morning. I could hear our second daughter stirring as I emerged from the bathroom and, as I opened her bedroom door to check on her, a recognisable smell hit my nostrils.

  I suppose it’s just a question of practice, but if you’re like me and will do virtually anything to avoid changing a nappy, those occasions when it’s impossible to duck the responsibility become all the more challenging. Ten minutes later, a very amused baby girl – who had no idea as to the meaning of the strange four-letter words her father had been uttering – giggled and smiled, now cosily wrapped up in a clean babygro. I sat back exhausted, wondering how on earth her mother managed to do the job so often and with such speed and dexterity. As I gazed into the deep-blue eyes of my second child, I forgot for a moment all the problems, issues and niggles that had been so dominating my thoughts.

  ‘None of it matters to you does it, Charlie?’ I said, as I watched her face light up in response to my gently tweaking her nose. And it didn’t. Just as her elder sister had demonstrated at a similar age, all my little girl cared about was being warm, well fed and cared for. In many ways, I envied her.

  Jenny was soon back and, after a quick slice of toast, we loaded up the car and headed into the local town. After finding a parking space, I stood still as Jenny attached the baby carrier to me, adjusted the buckles and then popped Charlie against my chest. As I took in that unique, delicious scent of new baby, our daughter promptly closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  We had just collected one of the trolleys outside the supermarket and were heading in through the entrance when Jenny’s phone rang. It was Toni Fellowes.

  After a few moments, she passed the phone to me.

  Toni got straight to the point. ‘Will you be in the office tomorrow? We need to speak about Kevin’s arrest.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said quietly, careful not to wake Charlie. ‘I expect so. Is it something urgent? I’ve been given a strong warning to keep away from the enquiry team.’

  ‘Nothing that can’t wait until the morning. I’ll be at the Yard at about nine, if that suits?’

  ‘Sure, see you then.’

  As I ended the call, Jenny was dropping a milk container into the trolley. ‘More problems?’ she asked.

  ‘Story of my life at the moment. She wants to talk about Kevin.’
r />   Chapter 32

  At nine the following morning, I headed toward the same quiet table in the corner of the canteen where I’d met up with Nell Mahoney. I still hadn’t decided whether to mention to Toni about Kevin’s recent renewed interest in the Al Anfal document. Given what had happened, it now seemed less relevant.

  Toni was one step ahead of me. As I walked in and passed the rows of similar tables, I could see she was already waiting and was on her telephone. First thing I noticed were the lines across her furrowed brow. There was no smile, no greeting as I sat down.

  I noticed a small box she was cradling on her lap. ‘Is that for me?’ I asked, as the call ended.

  Finally, she smiled. ‘All in good time, Finlay. I’ve made some checks regarding Mr Shabat’s claims. Like I suggested, it looks like ancient history. I’m as sure as I can be that Shabat’s handler is Howard Green, so that would be consistent with the threat having been lifted. I think, if I were you, I really wouldn’t be inclined to worry about it.’

  Toni was doing her best to sound reassuring, I could sense that from her voice. But the question remained: exactly when had Shabat been approached?

  ‘Do you still want me to find out from him when he was asked?’ I said.

  ‘If it helps put your mind at rest, yes,’ she replied.

  ‘Is that the only reason you wanted to see me?’

  ‘No … I’m afraid that’s just a part of the reason. There’s been a very unusual development regarding Kevin Jones.’

  ‘What, even more than getting arrested for killing his girlfriend during a sex game?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she continued. ‘Sensitive subject, I know.’

  ‘So, what is it?’

  She paused, as if struggling to find the right words.

  ‘Well, I hope it’s good news.’ I did my best to force a smile.

  She took a deep breath. ‘No … it isn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s about the gun that was found in the boot of Kevin’s car.’

  ‘Don’t tell me. His prints were on it?’

  ‘No, actually they weren’t. And it’s still the subject of DNA testing so no tie-up from that. No, what I’m referring to is the ballistics results from the lab.’

  ‘So far as I know, Kevin never had access to a Glock. I told Mellor

  that.’

  ‘Mellor from CIB?’ Toni asked.

  ‘That’s him.’

  ‘Commander Grahamslaw told me about him. And from what I’m told, he dismissed the point. To be honest, I can’t really blame him. As we both know, Kevin would probably have been killed last year if it hadn’t been for an illicitly held weapon, so let’s not pretend he couldn’t have had access to another pistol.’

  She was right, and it was a fair point. The IRA man who’d tried to murder Kevin had only been overcome thanks to the Browning Kevin had kept hidden.

  ‘What I’m talking about is far worse than that,’ she continued. ‘Do you recall the case of Maggie Price, the literary agent that’s gone missing?’

  ‘Of course,’ I answered. ‘Chas Collins’ agent. It was only in the papers a few weeks ago. From what I hear, the author is missing as well.’

  ‘Yes … yes, that’s right. And did you read that on the same night there was a shooting a couple of miles away from the Price home?’

  ‘Yes, I read that. That journalist, Max Tranter, was trying to link a drug-dealer killing to the Price disappearance.’

  ‘That’s the one. Well, Kevin had a copy of the book Maggie Price’s author brought out last year at his house,’ Toni said. ‘Mellor’s team found a circled reference to Maggie Price inside it.’

  ‘He bought a copy to check if it compromised any of our friends from the Afghan operation Chas Collins wrote about.’

  ‘Well, Mellor’s team have made the connection so they’re having ballistic tests done to see if it’s the murder weapon.’

  ‘So, Kevin is in the frame for that as well?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s taken things into a whole different sphere. The Service is also involved in the hunt for Maggie Price.’

  ‘Do you think she’s dead?’

  ‘We’ve no doubt. Since the day she disappeared there’s been no indication of life whatsoever.’

  ‘And you think Collins is involved?’

  ‘Or a victim as well. The trail for him went cold several months ago. Kevin has never come up on our radar as a suspect.’

  ‘He wouldn’t, would he … no way is he involved,’ I said, adamantly. ‘There’s the obvious answer, of course.’

  ‘Which is?’ Toni asked.

  ‘Howard Green and the need to keep Collins quiet about the Al Anfal organisation. Maybe Price was collateral damage?’

  ‘Maybe … and maybe your friend Kevin is actually a hired gun?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Toni. There’s not a chance,’ I exclaimed.

  But I’d now realised I was going to have to take Toni into my confidence over what Kevin had told me about the copy of the Al Anfal document McNeil had brought to him. I turned and checked around the canteen. Although many of the tables were occupied, those nearest to us remained empty. It was safe to speak. I took a deep breath, leaned forwards to speak quietly and, having secured her attention, I began. She listened attentively as I summarised what I knew. It didn’t take long, there wasn’t much to tell.

  ‘So, Kevin and Brian McNeil have been making arrangements to have it translated in the same way you did?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s about the sum of it,’ I said, slightly taken aback by the lack of surprise in her response.

  ‘That confirms it, then?’

  ‘Confirms what?’

  ‘Kevin called Nell some while ago asking if she could help him with finding an Arab translator. He told her it was just a letter he needed help with. Do we know where this new copy of the document is now?’

  ‘I think they’ve given it to Dr Armstrong.’

  ‘We’ll need to find out. You never told Kevin about Howard Green and the mop-up of the Increment men then?’ As she spoke, her gaze switched nervously between me and checking over my shoulder.

  ‘Just as we agreed. Some things are best left untold. Do you think the odd circumstances of the arrest and this gun appearing are connected to that?’

  ‘I have no idea, Finlay.’ She focussed on me, her voice now sounding angry and impatient. ‘What I do know is that we need to speak to him, and urgently.’

  ‘To what end, exactly?’

  ‘To answer some questions. And when I say we, I mean you. I can’t get involved at this point.’ Her hand moved from her lap and placed the small, brown box on the table in front of me. ‘Kind of makes this all the more relevant.’

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘A mobile phone. Bill Grahamslaw told me what happened to your work phone. CIB will return it and when they do I want you to take it to Nell to give it a once-over.’

  ‘Why exactly?’

  ‘To see if they’ve chipped it,’ Toni answered. ‘Which they most likely will have. You’re probably not aware of it yet but the Met has been trialling a tracking system called “Stingray”. When Commander Grahamslaw queried why they wanted your phone, it occurred to me that might be what they were up to. Stingray inserts software onto the phone that will send details of your calls, texts and location to whoever is monitoring you.’

  ‘A bug in my pocket?’ I said. ‘Kind of reminds me of the device Kevin found at his home.’

  ‘Which still remains something of a mystery, I’m afraid. Nell hasn’t been able to find who might have planted it.’

  I pulled the small box towards me and opened it. ‘Is it an ordinary phone?’ I asked. ‘Or does it mean you can listen in to me as well.’

  ‘It’s called a burner phone. It operates via a South African network on an unregistered SIM card. Expensive to run on pay-as-you-go but almost impossible to trace. I’ve programmed it with my numbers and your home number. I suggest you only use it when you really need to do so.
Hopefully the first occasion will be when you call to tell me what Kevin has to say.’

  ‘You expect me to go and see him?’

  Toni passed me a small slip of paper across the table. ‘I’d be surprised if you didn’t,’ she said.

  I looked down to see that the note contained a long series of numbers.

  ‘Memorise them,’ she continued. ‘It’s your new phone number. And make sure you give the number to Kevin. But, whatever you do, destroy that note and tell him not to record it either.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘And one other thing.’ Her eyes again flicked upwards towards the far end of the canteen. ‘It has a help facility. Dial treble eight and it will transmit a “come find me” signal via GCHQ.’

  ‘A locator beacon?’

  ‘You’re familiar with them?’

  ‘I had one in Northern Ireland, fitted to the car we used. Came in handy once.’

  Toni’s facial expression suddenly changed. She smiled, warmly. ‘Looks like there’s some news,’ she exclaimed, as she focussed on someone behind me.

  A moment later, Nina Brasov sat down with us. She looked worried and was slightly out of breath, as if she’d been running. ‘I’ve been trying to find you everywhere, Finlay,’ she said as she nodded a very brief acknowledgement towards Toni. ‘It’s Kevin. He’s being produced at court this afternoon where they’re going to be asking for a warrant of further detention to keep him in for additional questioning. I thought you’d want to know.’

  Chapter 33

  A warrant of further detention. That meant an additional thirty-six hours in the police cells for Kevin. Plenty of time for Mellor to have the pistol forensically tested and then interrogate him about it.

  And Nina knew, as I did, that getting the warrant would also involve a court appearance, a public outing, and a short period in the court cells waiting for the Magistrate to hear the application. For a few hours, possibly, Kevin would be somewhere I could get to speak to him.

  Not that it would be easy. Secure transport from the police station would be followed by equally impregnable conditions in the court cells. Most courts held prisoners in a basement cell area, with internal security doors and corridors providing access to a secure ‘dock’, where the accused would stand while the case was heard. To my mind, there would be one opportunity to speak to Kevin, and one only – as he waited in the court cell prior to the hearing. At that time, only police officers, prison escort staff and solicitors could expect to be allowed access.