The Razor Gang Murder

by Simon McCleave

  Hassan furrowed his brow in disbelief. ‘You were pretty certain the other day that when Alfie Wise went missing, you were in Kent doing basic training.’

  Droy fixed Hassan with a stare. ‘What’s your name again?’ he asked scornfully.

  ‘DC Hassan.’

  ‘DC Hass- what? Bloody hell,’ he said with an ironic laugh.

  ‘DC Hassan,’ he said politely.

  Gaughran knew Droy was having a pop at Hassan and trying to get a rise out of him. Hassan was incredibly calm when it came to morons like Droy.

  Droy ignored him and looked back at Gaughran with a smirk.

  Gaughran cleared his throat. ‘You see, Terry, I’m certain that when you heard the news that Alfie Wise had gone missing, you would be able to remember exactly where you were. You know, like everyone knows where they were when Kennedy was shot? Bit like that. Alfie Wise had murdered your mate Frank two weeks earlier. There is no way on earth that you don’t know where you were when you found out he had disappeared.’

  Terry took his time lighting his cigarette. He then looked at the match before waving it until it stopped burning.

  Stop all the theatrics, dickhead, Gaughran thought.

  Droy shook his head again. ‘Sorry, but I don’t. My memory’s not what it was, you know?

  Gaughran gave a sigh. ‘Forensics are due back tomorrow, Terry.’

  Droy blew smoke across the table at them. ‘Oh, that’s good. Maybe it’ll help you find out who killed Alfie. And then I can send them a bottle of Champagne and a thank you card.’

  ‘Not worried about the DNA or forensic evidence that we’re going to get from Alfie’s body then, Terry? Hassan asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ Droy said as he stared at Hassan and pretended that he couldn’t understand the question. Then he looked back at Gaughran. ‘Not really as I didn’t kill him. I thought I told you to go and talk to Trevor Walsh.’

  ‘We’ve talked to Trevor Walsh. He seems to think you were lying to us,’ Gaughran said.

  Droy laughed. ‘Bloody hell. He would say that. What kind of fucking coppers are you? You ask him about him and Alfie then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you find Eddie? Why don’t you ask him about all this?’

  ‘Don’t worry. We did,’ Hassan snapped.

  ‘Why are you so sure that Trevor Walsh had something to do with Alfie’s disappearance?’ Gaughran asked.

  ‘I’m not. I just know it wasn’t me or Eddie. And Walshy was a nasty piece of work. I’m just trying to do your job for you because you two are clearly shit at it.’

  ‘Eddie told us you were warned not to look for Alfie, is that right?’ Gaughran asked.

  Droy looked confused. ‘Eh? Don’t know what he’s talking about.’

  Gaughran’s eyes bored into him. ‘You sure? Eddie seemed to be very clear that you two had been told to stay away from Alfie Wise.’

  A baffled expression appeared on Droy’s face. ‘What? Who by?’

  ‘Coppers. He thought they were on the take.’

  ‘Eh? Eddie said bent coppers told us not to look for Alfie Wise?’

  Hassan looked at him. ‘That’s what he said.’

  Droy laughed and shook his head. ‘No idea what he’s talking about.’ He smiled mischievously. ‘If you see him again, make sure you send Eddie my regards, eh? Haven’t seen him in donkeys. See how he reacts when you tell him that Terry Droy said to say hello.’

  Gaughran wasn’t sure what Droy was getting at. It sounded like some kind of threat. Or was Droy just wasting their time and playing silly buggers?

  ‘Why’s that then, Terry?’ Hassan asked.

  Droy scratched his cheek and then sat forward. ‘Look, I’m not a fucking grass or nothing. But I saw Eddie Bannerman every day of my life up until the day Frank got stabbed. We grew up together, went to school together. In the forty years since Frank was killed, I’ve seen Eddie twice. Once at Frank’s funeral and once sitting in a car with Trevor Walsh.’

  ‘Trevor Walsh?’ Gaughran asked incredulously.

  Droy nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. It was about two months after Frank had died. I had no idea what they were doing together. Maybe Eddie was giving Walshy a blow job?’

  ‘And you didn’t say anything to them?’

  ‘Nah. I just thought it was bloody weird, that’s all.’

  CHAPTER 18

  Lucy, Brooks and Ruth had been in The Crown pub in Tooting with Craig Sullivan for about five minutes. Brooks brought over a round of drinks from the bar and placed them down on the table.

  ‘Not the friendliest barman I’ve ever met,’ Brooks said with a perplexed expression as he sat down.

  Sullivan sipped an inch from his pint and sniggered. ‘He can tell you lot are coppers. And in this pub, you’re the enemy.’

  Lucy faked a smile. ‘Great. Now I feel really relaxed.’

  Brooks sat back and looked around the pub. ‘I’ve never been here. My old man told me about The Crown pub in Tooting.’

  Sullivan raised an eyebrow. ‘What did he say?’

  Brooks laughed. ‘Told me never to come in here. It’s a villain’s pub.’

  As Lucy looked around, she could see that the walls were full of true crime memorabilia. Book covers, film posters, and old photographs. She could feel herself getting wound up. As far as she could see, it was a pub that glamourised men who had maimed and killed people, and treated them like movie stars.

  ‘It’s a bit of a Mecca for true crime junkies now, to be fair. You wouldn’t get your local faces coming in anymore. But there’s a lot of dark history in here,’ Sullivan explained as he gestured to a long table at the back of the pub. ‘That’s where they planned the Great Train Robbery of ’63.’

  Brooks pulled out a book from the folder he was carrying. It was called A History of London’s Gangland by Craig Sullivan. ‘Actually, we wanted to pick your brains about something a few years before that, Craig.’

  Craig looked pleased that Brooks had brought the book out. ‘I can sign that for you, if you want?’

  What a dick, Lucy thought.

  Brooks smiled. ‘Maybe later. What can you tell us about Charlie Wise and his brother Alfie?’

  ‘You really are going back. Charlie and Alfie Wise were from Peckham. Charlie spent a lot of his time over this way.’

  Ruth looked over. ‘The 211 Club?’

  Sullivan nodded. ‘Yeah. If you’ve done any digging around, you’ll know that Charlie worked there. He started by running errands for Freddie Foreman. But Charlie was smart, and after a while he was basically running the club. From what I understand, his brother Alfie was only young but he’d knock about the place. Everyone called him ‘The Kid’.’

  Lucy looked down at her notebook. ‘What can you tell us about the Fisher family at the time?’

  Sullivan shook his head and tutted. ‘The Fishers were local to here. Used to run this pub in the 50s. Nasty lot. Tortured people who crossed them.’

  ‘We’re interested in an event that is meant to have taken place at the 211 Club involving Declan Fisher,’ Ruth said.

  ‘Yeah. It’s one of those events that seems to have passed into criminal folklore. If you read most books, they’ll tell you that Declan Fisher was asking the 211 Club for protection money. The story goes that he went to petrol bomb the place and Charlie Wise beat him unconscious.’

  Brooks leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. ‘But you’re saying that’s not what happened?’

  Sullivan cackled. ‘Of course not! No villain would be stupid enough to demand protection money from the 211 Club. It was part-owned by the Krays. That would have been suicide.’

  Ruth shrugged. ‘So, what did happen?’

  ‘Charlie Wise and Declan Fisher were planning to buy the Krays out of the 211 Club. Reggie and Ronnie were looking to expand into the West End and wanted their money out of the club. It was basically a done deal. There wasn’t any animosity between Charlie and Declan. The opposite really. The only major problem
they had were officers from the South London Murder Squad,’ Sullivan said.

  Lucy exchanged a look with Brooks and Ruth. That doesn’t sound good.

  Brooks cleared his throat. ‘Why were officers from the Murder Squad a problem?’

  ‘Everyone knew that there were coppers in the Met taking bribes to turn a blind eye or fit someone up. The Murder Squad wanted a piece of the action down here, south of the river,’ Sullivan explained.

  Lucy’s face expressed astonishment. ‘Detectives from the South London Murder Squad wanted to be paid off by the 211 Club?’

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ Sullivan replied. ‘Except Declan Fisher and Charlie Wise told them to fuck off. They caught Declan Fisher round the back of the club, beat him unconscious, and then created the story that Fisher had gone there to burn down the place.’

  Brooks sighed. ‘Bloody hell. Do you have any evidence of this?’

  Sullivan shook his head. ‘Only people that spoke to me off the record.’

  ‘What about Alfie? How does his disappearance and death fit with all this?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Same thing. Charlie wouldn’t play ball with the Murder Squad. Next thing, his brother Alfie disappears off the face of the earth,’ Sullivan said, and then drained his pint. ‘I heard a rumour that he was murdered by bent coppers to force Charlie to do what they wanted.’

  CHAPTER 19

  Gaughran and Hassan were back at Eddie Bannerman’s home to find out why he had lied to them about doing National Service at the time of Alfie Wise’s disappearance, and probably his murder.

  The front door opened slowly. Bannerman squinted out at them.

  Gaughran gave him a sarcastic grin. ‘Have you missed us, Eddie?’

  ‘Jesus! What do you want?’ he groaned.

  ‘Just a couple of things we’d like you to clear up for us. Can we come in?’ Hassan said, indicating for him to open the door fully.

  Bannerman shook his head. ‘Do I have a choice?’

  Gaughran moved towards the door. ‘Not really.’

  They followed Bannerman inside. The house was dark and smelled of dog food and cigarette smoke.

  He led them into a small living room, and gestured for them to sit on a shabby sofa. There had been some attempt to keep the room tidy, but it was cluttered with old newspapers and books.

  ‘What’s this about? I told you everything I know about Alfie Wise,’ Bannerman said as he reached for his cigarettes.

  Hassan took out his notepad and pen. ‘Slight problem with your dates, Eddie.’ Bannerman put a cigarette into his mouth and let it hang from his lips. ‘What dates?’

  ‘Basic training for your National Service. You told us you did it in November 1956. At the time of Alfie Wise’s disappearance?’ Hassan said, reading from his notes.

  ‘Yeah. That’s right.’ Bannerman lit his cigarette and avoided any eye contact.

  Bloody hell. He’s not a good liar, Gaughran thought.

  Hassan tapped his notebook. ‘Problem is that according to the British Army Service Records, you and Terry Droy both did your basic training down in Kent in April 1957.’

  Bannerman shook his head. ‘No, that can’t be right.’

  Gaughran gave him a scathing look. Bannerman was wasting their time. ‘Don’t lie to us, Eddie. We know you lied to us. Terry told us this morning.’

  ‘So, what are you doing wasting my bloody time with all the questions?’ Bannerman said angrily.

  ‘If you weren’t doing National Service, where were you when Alfie Wise went missing in November 1956?’ Gaughran growled.

  ‘I don’t know. How am I meant to remember what I was doing forty years ago?

  Hassan rolled his eyes. ‘Alfie Wise murdered your mate, Frank. If someone told you Alfie had gone missing, you would remember it.’

  Bannerman took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘I told you what happened. Me and Terry were warned to stay away from Alfie by your lot. When someone told me he’d been missing for over a week, I just assumed the obvious.’

  ‘Which was what?’ Gaughran asked.

  ‘That the coppers had bumped him off and buried him somewhere. I wanted nothing to do with it. In those days, if you didn’t do what coppers told you to do, you could be fitted up and spend the rest of your life in the nick.’

  Gaughran fixed him with a stare for a few seconds. ‘Terry says that a few months after Frank’s death, he saw you and Trevor Walsh in a car together?’

  Bannerman shifted uncomfortably in his seat and rubbed his nose. ‘So what?’

  Gaughran shook his head slowly and then glanced at Hassan. ‘Come on. What were you doing sitting in a car with a bloke who was involved in a fight where your mate got killed?’

  Bannerman rubbed his face again and tapped the ash from his cigarette. ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Don’t be a mug, Eddie,’ Gaughran snorted and then looked at Hassan. ‘DC Hassan, did you notice anything about the car that Eddie drives?’

  Hassan smiled. They had already discussed how they could use a bit of leverage on Bannerman before the interview. ‘Actually Sarge, Eddie has got a set of ladders attached to his roof.’

  Gaughran nodded. ‘That’s right. And when I had a little look inside his car, there were sponges, a hose and various cleaning products. If you had to guess what Eddie does for a living, what would it be DC Hassan?’

  ‘At a guess, I reckon Eddie’s a window cleaner.’

  Bannerman frowned and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘I’m a window cleaner, so bloody what?’

  ‘Firstly, you’ve lost your licence, so the DVLA will be very interested by the fact you’re still driving around,’ Gaughran smirked. ‘And I bet you put all that cash you earn through the books and pay your taxes properly, don’t you Eddie? And you wouldn’t worry if HMRC took a thorough look at your accounts, would you?’

  Bannerman’s face dropped. Gaughran had got him. ‘You can’t do that!’

  Hassan raised his eyebrows. ‘Actually, we can, Eddie.’

  Gaughran smiled at Bannerman, who now looked worried. ‘You were going to tell us why you were in a car with Trevor Walsh.’

  Bannerman raised an eyebrow. ‘Because Walshy was a snout for the police.’

  CHAPTER 20

  As Brooks made his way to the centre of the CID office, he looked frustrated. Rubbing his forehead, he took a large breath and went over to the scene boards. ‘The more we find out, the more confusing the investigation becomes. And as far as I can see, we just don’t have a front runner for a prime suspect, do we?’

  Ruth glanced around the room to see if there was any response. Brooks is right, she thought. There are multiple suspects and various lines of enquiry, none of which is helped by the fact that this is a cold case over forty years old.

  ‘Anyone looked through the original missing persons file for Alfie Wise yet?’ Brooks asked.

  Hassan held it up. ‘I’ve got it here, guv. Just had a flick through it.’

  ‘Anything that might help us?’ Brooks asked.

  ‘Nothing much. Charlie Wise’s statement reporting Alfie missing. His last known movements. Investigating officer was a DS Clive Rigby. I checked his personnel file. He retired in 1980 and died last year.’

  Brooks nodded. ‘Okay. No mention of any other officers working on the case?’

  Hassan shook his head. ‘No, guv. No one else ... There is one thing here though that doesn’t tally with what we know so far. Sir Charles, or whatever we’re calling him now, told us that Alfie went out on Tuesday 27th November in his car to run some errands. He then came home, dropped off the car and went out. That was the last time anyone saw Alfie ...’ Hassan pulled out an old-looking piece of paper with typing on it, ‘... except there is a note here about an Eileen Walters. It’s dated Sunday 2nd December, which is nearly a week after Alfie was reported missing. She claims to have seen Charlie and Alfie Wise in his car, late at night, on Tuesday 27th November. She was responding to some missing posters that went up in the area.’


  Lucy looked over. ‘That definitely contradicts what Charlie Wise told us.’

  Brooks frowned. ‘Are there details of any kind of follow up?’

  ‘As far as I can see, the statement was filed, and that was that,’ Hassan said.

  Ruth shook her head. ‘Christ, they really didn’t care if they found Alfie or not.’

  ‘Have we got a current address for her?’ Brooks asked. ‘If she’s still alive.’

  ‘Not yet, guv. I’ll see if I can track her down,’ Hassan replied.

  ‘Good,’ Brooks said.

  Lucy looked up. ‘Tim, you mentioned something that Bannerman said about Walsh working as a snout for the local police?’

  Gaughran nodded. ‘It’s definitely weird that Bannerman and Walsh were spotted together in a car a few months later. But I don’t see how any of that would explain Alfie Wise’s murder.’

  ‘I agree with Tim,’ Brooks said. ‘I can’t see a connection.’ He walked over to the old black-and-white photograph of Charlie Wise. ‘My gut feeling is that Alfie was murdered because of something criminal his brother was into.’ He then pointed to a photograph of Declan Fisher. ‘We have conflicting accounts of Charlie’s relationship with the Fisher family. Tim’s father was a copper here at this time. He thought the Fisher family wanted revenge on Charlie because Declan Fisher had been attacked and permanently brain-damaged outside the 211 Club. It’s a theory that was corroborated by Walsh.’

  Drinking from his water bottle, Brooks took a few seconds as he looked out at the room. Ruth knew what was coming next and why Brooks had paused for a second. ‘Of course the other more worrying and sensitive hypothesis is that there were officers from the South London Murder Squad who were either taking or demanding payoffs from the club. This led to some kind of altercation with Charlie Wise, and Alfie was murdered as a result.’

  A phone rang, and Lucy went over to answer it.

  Gaughran looked puzzled. ‘I thought my old man said he was certain there weren’t any bent coppers down this way?’