by Matt Johnson
I rang Barkingside court. The hearing was scheduled for noon, just enough time. My next call was a tough one and required a great deal of persistence before I was finally put through to Omar Shabat. I explained that I needed to speak to him again and he readily accepted my offer of two o’clock that afternoon.
The court building appeared quiet as I arrived. I parked my car and headed up the steps towards the heavy glass front doors. Immediately inside, two uniformed security guards were supervising a walk-through metal detector. I dropped my car keys, the burner phone and some small change from my pocket into a tray and stepped through.
‘DI Finlay,’ I said to the first guard, as I recovered my possessions. ‘There’s a cop called Jones being produced here in about half an hour. Do you know who is representing him?’
The guard scanned a sheet of A4 paper. ‘That’ll be Mr Marshall from Kemeys Solicitors. He’s just gone down to the cells to see his client.’
I offered my thanks. ‘I’m new here,’ I continued. ‘Can you point me towards the cell area?’
‘Door in the corner. Press the buzzer and wait for it to be opened – and have your warrant card ready. They’re a bit twitchy today for some reason.’
I looked in the direction where the guard had tilted his head and saw a grey security door with a red light above it. ‘Are the other detectives here?’
‘All in Court One with the Crown Prosecutor.’
I scanned the public area for anyone I recognised. It would be all I needed to bump into Mellor at this point. I doubted very much whether my reasons for wanting to see Kevin would cut much ice with him. There were a couple of people sitting on benches reading newspapers, a suited solicitor in deep conversation with a man in equally smart attire and a uniform officer standing with his back to one of the entrances to the courts that I guessed was probably Court One. It looked to be a quiet morning. What the guard had suggested regarding the detectives already being in Court One made sense. With the court security team now responsible for bringing prisoners up from the cells, Mellor and his team would have joined the CPS solicitor to talk over the warrant application and make sure he or she was fully briefed. Kevin was entitled to a private consultation with his solicitor, an opportunity I planned to exploit.
I pressed the buzzer to the cell-block door and waited.
A few moments later a face appeared at the small grilled window in the centre of the door. I held up my warrant card. There was a click and then the door swung open towards me.
‘I need to see the solicitor that just came in,’ I said to the guard. ‘Mr Marshall.’
‘Follow me.’
I stood to one side to allow the door to be closed and then followed my guide down two flights of narrow stairs. The smell of stale urine grew with every step and, as the stairs opened out into the cell reception area, the air became heavy and unpleasant. With detention periods limited to court appearances, those that had built the cell area had seen no need for modern ventilation or air-conditioning.
Behind a heavy wooden counter, an overweight guard was hunched over some paperwork.
‘Fred, this bloke wants to see Mr Marshall,’ said the guard with me.
Fred stopped what he was doing. ‘He’s in cell four with his client. Take a seat and I’ll get someone to let him know you’re here.’ With his pen, he pointed towards a small bench against the opposite wall.
‘I’d prefer to see Mr Marshall with his client, if that’s OK,’ I said.
‘Who are you guv’, part of the enquiry team?’
‘DI Finlay. I just need to have a few words with them.’
Fred shrugged, and didn’t seem minded to protest. I guessed he was used to cops occasionally appearing in the cell area and didn’t consider my request to be that unusual.
My guide produced a large set of keys from a belt clip and opened a grilled gate that controlled entry to the cell corridor. I followed him through. At cell four he inserted another key into the brass lock and pulled the heavy door open.
A familiar face looked up from the plastic bench on the opposite side of the cell.
Chapter 34
As I walked in, Kevin stood up quickly and thrust his hand into mine.
‘How the hell did you get in here?’ he asked, warmly. He looked tired, drawn, his eyes lacking their usual spark. And he appeared to have aged several years in the two days since we had last met.
A grey-haired man in a dark pin-striped suit who had been sitting on the opposite end of the bunk also got to his feet.
‘You’d be Mr Marshall?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘And I presume you to be Inspector Finlay? Kevin and I were just discussing you.’
‘Not all bad, I hope. I need a few minutes with your client if that’s possible?’
‘No worries,’ said Kevin. ‘We’re just about done, aren’t we Tom?’
Marshall gathered up some papers and placed them carefully into a leather briefcase. ‘Yes, I’ll make your case as we’ve discussed, but warrant applications like this tend to go through on the nod … wouldn’t you say, Mr Finlay?’
‘That’s true, Kev.’
Kevin nodded and shrugged. ‘We’ll see.’
‘Do you want me to leave the door open?’ asked the guard.
‘I’m done here,’ the solicitor answered, as he closed his case.
‘OK, sir. If you’d like to come with me? I’ll be at the reception area, Inspector. Just call as soon as you’re finished.’
I nodded to indicate I understood and then waited until I heard the gate at the end of the corridor close. Only then did I turn towards Kevin and press a finger against my lips to indicate he should be quiet. I beckoned him towards the sink in the corner of the cell and then turned on the tap. ‘Something I recently learned from Toni,’ I said, quietly.
‘You think we might be overheard?’ Kevin replied.
‘After finding that bug in your house, do you want to take the chance?’
He sighed. ‘Well, I hope you’re wrong.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Nothing, really. Anyway, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. You’re taking a bloody chance coming to see me.’
‘A chance?’ I said. ‘Kev, if it hadn’t escaped your attention you’ve been nicked for murdering Sandi. There’s no way I wasn’t going to find a way to get to you.’
‘The lead investigator tried to suggest you were prepared to give evidence against me.’
‘He’s a bloody liar. That’s just the kind of trick he’d use to rattle you. So, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?’
‘I’m being stitched up, that’s what.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t have killed Sandi, not even accidentally.’
‘I wondered whether to tell them about the bug … try and get them to think something might be going on, but they just seem totally set on building a case against me. I … I really appreciate you coming, boss.’
‘Let’s hope you’re worth it.’ I reached in my pocket and pulled out the tiny piece of paper Toni had given me containing the number of the burner phone. I showed it to Kevin. ‘Before we talk any more, read it back to me,’ I said.
He did as asked.
‘Now, remember it. It’s the only way you’ll have of contacting me.’
He took a moment to reread the number a couple of times before continuing. ‘Doesn’t look like any number I’ve ever seen?’ he asked.
‘It’s a special MI5 phone Toni gave me. Now what’s the number?’
He repeated it correctly.
I smiled. ‘Great. Now don’t forget it. You’re in deep shit, Kev, and you need help. I was thinking of getting in touch with Harry Mac from B Squadron. He’s a barrister now.’
‘No need. It’s all taken care of. Is that what you came about?’
‘Just part. And how do you mean, it’s taken care of?’
‘Tom Marshall used to be in the army legal department. He knows who to talk to so I get the best.’
‘You trust him?’ I asked as Kevin raised a hand. There was a noise from outside. I stepped gingerly across the cell to the door to confirm we were still unheard. I nodded to him and gave a thumbs-up as I saw the corridor was empty.
‘For now, or until proved otherwise,’ he continued. ‘Don’t imagine you’re the only one who’s been trying to work out what the fuck is going on here. I Google the bloody Al Anfal words, then I get bugged, and then I’m knocked out with enough ketamine to kill me … and when I come round I find that some bastard from Complaints is stitching me up for murder. Someone is behind this.’
‘Enough to kill you?’
‘Sandi’s eldest boy came home from school early. He found me on the floor and called an ambulance.’
‘He found his mum as well?’ I said, imagining the horrific sight the poor boy must have seen.
Kevin lowered his gaze. ‘Yes … poor kid.’
‘So, if the boy hadn’t found you, you’d be dead?’
‘As the proverbial dodo,’ he replied.
‘Do you have any ideas?’
‘Not at the moment, but Tom has a couple of lads working on it.’
‘So, does he think he can get you out on bail?’ I asked.
‘I’m a cop, fixed address, that kind of thing. He thinks I have a chance. Surrendering my passport might help he says.’
‘It might, yes.’ I paused. ‘Kev, I’ve some things I need to tell you and some things I need to ask of you.’
‘Like what?’ he demanded.
I held up my hand to encourage my friend to stay where he was and again walked the short distance across the cell to the door. The guard had left it slightly ajar. I peered through the gap and could see that Fred was still busy at his desk.
‘OK, let’s start at the beginning. What the hell happened at Sandi’s house?’
Kevin scowled. ‘You tell me. Sandi and me were meeting up for a little fun. She loves dressing up and getting me to call round. Anyway, this time I called and the front door was open. I thought it was one of her games. Next thing, I’m hit by some massive electric shock and when I wake up I’m in the hospital ward having had my stomach pumped, and with an armed uniform lad watching over me. I’m sitting there, wondering what the fuck is going on when in strolls a dick in a suit acting like he’s some kind of friggin’ god … and then he nicks me for Sandi’s murder. That’s it in a nutshell, really.’
‘The dick was Mellor from Complaints?’
‘You know him? He’s not a friend of yours is he?’
‘Met him. He’s not what you’d call a mate. Did they question you about the overdose?’ I asked.
‘They did, and I’m telling you I never swallowed no horse tranquillisers. Like I’ve kept telling them, I thought I’d been knocked out by a faulty light switch or something. I never even saw Sandi. And, do you know what? They’re telling me she was strangled in some kind of weird sex game. Some bastard killed her and then knocked me out and, I’m telling you now…’
‘Now you have to prove it wasn’t you, Kev.’
‘I’ll bloody do for them, that’s what I’m saying. Have you heard anything about Sandi’s boys? They’re good lads. I don’t want them blaming me for what happened to their mother.’
‘I’ve not heard. But I’ll see if I can find out.’
‘I need to set things right with them. I just wish I knew how.’
‘Have they told you about the Glock found in your car?’
‘Yep, that bastard Mellor was very smug when he told me I was also being nicked for it. It’s not mine, that I can tell you. And before you ask, I’ve got no idea how it got into my car.’
‘So, is your kit hide still intact?’
‘As far as I know, yes. But I’ll need your help to relocate it before it’s discovered.’
‘OK, I can do that. It gets worse, though. Mellor found your copy of Chas Collins’ book with the name of his missing agent circled. As a result he thinks the Glock may be linked to other murders.’
Kevin threw his head back. ‘Ah … this is getting ridiculous.’
‘Which is why I think we need to get you the best legal brains on side … and why you must tell me everything about the Al Anfal document Brian McNeil came to you with.’
‘Why?’ Kevin demanded. ‘Are you saying that might be linked to all this as well?’
‘Don’t you remember, we talked about it at the DLR station waiting room?’
‘I forget … things have been a tad confused these last couple of days. So, you think there’s a link?’
‘I’m not jumping to any conclusions at the moment. Just checking under every stone.’
‘Well, with all that’s going on, I’m surprised they’re not trying to stitch me up with that as well.’
‘With what?’ I asked.
‘I guess you haven’t heard? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have. You know McNeil took it to the same translator that Rupert Reid recommended to you – Dr Armstrong?’
‘That’s what you told me.’
‘OK, well, a couple of days ago Armstrong only went and topped himself, didn’t he. When McNeil went to visit him to see how the job was going, the house was crawling with local coppers. I sent you a text to call me so I could tell you.’
‘I got it, but by the time I called you back I guess you were already in hospital. So … Armstrong’s dead is he?’
‘Hung himself from a tree in his garden, apparently. Anyway, there was no chance of recovering the document so McNeil had to leave it there.’
I was silent, momentarily stunned by the revelation. Kevin was right, unless the death had made the TV news channels, I probably wouldn’t have heard about it.
‘So the document is still at Armstrong’s house, so far as you know?’ I asked.
‘Unless the local lads found it, yes.’ The scowl on my friend’s face faded to be replaced by a look of hope. ‘What’s the chance you could try and get it back?’ he asked.
‘From Armstrong’s home you mean? I’d have thought it would have been seized.’
‘Why would they? McNeil said he had loads of stuff about the Middle East so they maybe wouldn’t have paid it any particular attention.’
I thought about what Kevin was saying. He might be right. There was no reason that a particular set of papers would stick out from all the other documents in Armstrong’s home.
‘It’s early days,’ Kevin continued. ‘With any luck, his relatives won’t have had the place emptied yet. You could have a look and see if he left it there.’
I heard keys in the door at the end of the corridor. Turning the tap off, I made as if I’d been washing my hands. ‘I’ll have to go now, Kev. Mellor is up in court waiting and if he sees me he won’t be impressed. But I’ll think about what you said and, well, I’m not making any promises.’
‘But you’ll try.’
‘I’ll try. Now, repeat that phone number for me.’
The cell door swung open before he could speak. ‘Times up, I’m afraid, gents. The magistrate is ready.’
‘Good luck, mate,’ I said, patting Kevin gently on the back. He forced a grim smile.
‘She’s dead, boss,’ he said quietly, his shoulders slumped.
And, in that moment I realised how thoughtless I had been. So focussed was I on helping my friend achieve justice that I had forgotten that the woman he stood accused of killing meant a great deal to him.
‘We’re with you, mate,’ I said, struggling to think what best to say.
Kevin looked up and appeared to be about to reply just as the guard interjected. It was time for me to go.
Heading out into the fresh air, I felt powerless to help. As a cop, Kevin would need to be protected from the general prison population and, while he could look after himself, he was no superman. Eventually, caught with his guard down or taken by surprise, he would fall like any man.
His only hope lay with securing the services of a damn good lawyer, and that was going to cost. I couldn’t afford it, neither cou
ld he. And, given the nature of the charges he would be facing, there was little possibility the Police Federation would fund his legal defence. Kevin needed funds and, ironically, the document that had been such a danger to us previously now seemed to represent his best hope; what he had been hoping could provide for his retirement now looked like being his stay-out-of-jail card.
And he was relying on me to make it happen.
Chapter 35
Toni checked her watch as she exited the lift. Ten to nine. Finlay would be here in a few minutes. He’d made his first use of the burner phone to request another chat.
With Nell also wanting to talk, she’d arranged meetings with both in the office at New Scotland Yard. The security door lock clicked open as she approached. She smiled broadly at the new CCTV camera overseeing her approach and through which Nell must have seen her arrival.
Stuart was waiting inside the door. ‘Morning ma’am,’ he said, warmly. ‘Will it be the usual?’
‘White, no sugar, please,’ she said.
‘On its way.’
‘And try and make it a clean mug this time will you?’ she called as Stuart disappeared into the small lobby where they kept the kettle.
Nell was at her work station, her fingers a speeding blur across her keyboard, eyes glued to the screen.
‘How’s things?’ Toni asked, not really expecting a reply.
‘OK,’ Nell answered. ‘I did what you asked.’
‘And Finlay was convinced you were sharing something with him without me knowing?’
‘I believe so. Do you know what a nonce is, Toni?’
Nell’s question was unexpected and unusually aggressive. Toni felt quite taken aback. ‘Of course, why do you ask?’ she replied.
