by Joe Carter
We did one more shopping trip to Tesco to buy three days’ food and then deposited this at the flat. Billy wanted to spend the evening in the bookies, so he dropped me at the train station and we agreed to meet at 10 a.m. the next day.
I was up bright and breezy the next morning, as we had a full briefing with the drugs squad and precursor unit. There were a number of staff that would be working on the operation today – from surveillance, arrest and search teams to the laboratory staff, who would ensure the flat was dismantled safely. I knew that I would be under surveillance for the duration of the day, starting with me getting picked up at ten at Barking train station. I was also told that there would be staff filming us picking up the glassware and chemical barrels from my storage premises just off the North Circular Road, near Neasden. At the conclusion of the meeting, everyone understood his or her role. I agreed with the detective in overall charge of the operation that I would only go and pick James up from the train station if the isosafrole had been brought to the flat and all the bad guys were present.
I knew it was going to be a long and tiring day. It was already really warm, and I wasn’t looking forward to spending the day in and out of a Luton van with a house brick strapped to my back. I travelled from Central London out to Barking, and Billy was waiting for me outside the station in the van. He said he was starving and wanted to grab a bacon roll and a cup of tea at the café round the corner. We decided that, as the weather was so nice, we would sit outside on one of the two picnic benches that were perched on the pavement.
Billy had a scruffy white T-shirt on and a pair of jeans that he really didn’t look comfortable in. I knew that I’d have to spend the next ten minutes listening to him telling me how close he’d been to winning a small fortune last night on the dogs, only to be let down by one dog. I pinned my ears back and listened to his sob story whilst I ate my bacon roll.
We finished our breakfast, and Billy made a brief stop at a call box to phone Jimmy to say that he and I were on our way to my storage facility. Billy didn’t know where the lock-up was, so I directed him around the North Circular. We pulled in at the storage facility as the midday sun was at its height. It was a balmy London summer’s afternoon and the roads were busy and hot; there was no air conditioning in the van, so both our windows were wound down. To get as close as possible to my storage unit, it required the van to be reversed under roll shutters and this was a little tricky. I jumped out of the passenger side, and stopped briefly to adjust myself to ensure the house brick hadn’t dislodged from my back. The storage facility had modern offices on either side that were completely glass-fronted. As I looked up at the second floor of the offices to my left, I could see as clear as crystal a tripod holding a camera, and two men, one of whom was talking into a radio. It was the observation team. They may as well have been standing in broad daylight in front of us.
I prayed that Billy hadn’t seen them, otherwise I was in a lot of trouble and the whole operation would be blown. I quickly shouted at Billy to watch his side as he reversed and I would make sure the passenger side was clear. There was nothing I could do to make those officers get out of sight. If I gestured to them, Billy would wonder what on earth I was doing. So I just had to pray that Billy didn’t see them.
It was absolutely painful and I was completely unable to alter the situation. However, I decided in my head that if Billy got out of the car and walked around his side of the van to join me at the back, I would have about five seconds to get their attention.
I was shouting directions at him as he reversed the van, and then I told him that he’d come far enough and to stick the handbrake on and turn the ignition off. Now was my chance; I needed him to get out and walk around the side of the van, not around the front, so he was out of sight of the observation team. He jumped out, and as I heard the door slam I made the decision to gesticulate like a mad man at the two observation officers. I waved my hand down, indicating them to lie down, then waved the flat of my hand across my neck a number of times to tell them to stop or finish. I saw them both look at each other and drop to the floor, but the tripod and camera were still stood there, like a mounted machine gun pointing at us. I needed to stop Billy coming out from the area at the back of the van; I wanted him to remain out of sight.
I unhinged the loading ramp and pressed the button to lower the heavy metal ramp to the floor. I then took the keys for my storage unit out of my pocket and threw them to Billy. I said to him, ‘F11, ground floor, just round to the right, mate.’ He caught the keys and started walking towards the lock-up and out of view. I immediately turned, and with both hands gestured for them to go away. I also made a triangle sign and a camera motion, as if I was playing charades. I must have looked like a complete idiot to anyone watching me but it seemed to have the desired effect, as the next thing I saw was the two officers crawling out of sight, one of them carrying the tripod with him. I gave a deep sigh of relief as I walked into the darkness of the storage facility, thinking to myself that I really didn’t need this added pressure.
Billy and I loaded up the blue barrels. I had painstakingly marked them with the relevant chemical names to ensure authenticity, but Billy didn’t take a blind bit of notice. We then carefully placed all the individually wrapped pieces of glassware into plastic storage boxes before putting them in the van. There were also some trestle tables and free-standing three-speed fans, which we put on board. We were both sweating from the manual work on such a hot day. It had probably taken us about an hour to load the van, and now we needed to get back on the road and set everything up back in East London. We stopped at the first petrol station, and I bought some cold drinks whilst Billy used a payphone to call Jimmy and tell him we were on our way back to the flat.
We were getting close to the endgame now. I hoped that Billy’s phone call would be the trigger for Jimmy to travel to wherever he had the isosafrole stashed. Once Jimmy, Gary and the isosafrole were with Billy and me in the flat, that would be the perfect moment to bring this whole operation to its conclusion.
Billy and I got back about 3.30, and we started carrying the barrels and glassware up to the flat. I had a diagram that James had allegedly given me with the correct layout of the tables and glassware. Billy and I followed this carefully, and by about 4.15 we had it all laid out as per the diagram. There was then a loud knock on the door and Billy, very reluctantly and nervously, opened it a small amount, his foot blocking the possibility of it opening any further. I heard the loud, gruff voice of Jimmy: ‘Stop fucking about and come down and help carry these things in.’
We both left the flat and went down to Jimmy’s car. Gary was sat in the passenger seat, and Jimmy told him to get out and open the boot. All four of us stood there as Gary opened it to reveal two white barrels that sat underneath a tartan blanket. Billy and I took one each, Gary grabbed two sports bags that were on the back seat of the car, and we all walked to the block of flats. We squeezed into the lift; I could smell alcohol on Jimmy’s breath. No one said a word until we got into the flat and locked the door. We put the barrels down underneath a trestle table.
Jimmy showed his approval of what we had set up so far, then stopped in the middle of the room. He sucked in deep through his nose and said, ‘Can you smell that?’ He took another deep intake of breath. Billy looked bemused, and he too tried to smell what Jimmy could smell. Jimmy then said, ‘That, gentleman, is the smell of money.’ He gave out a huge laugh, and as usual, Gary joined in. I didn’t want to stop their fun or curb their enthusiasm, but I needed to know for definite that we had everything in the flat. I looked at Jimmy and said that the chef was on his way, but once he arrived he wanted the door locked and no one to leave until his job was complete. So I needed to know now that we had everything that was necessary. I went through a checklist, and when it came to the two barrels that Billy and I had carried in, Jimmy confirmed it was the isosafrole.
I gave them a talk as to how they should treat the chef, and said that I didn’t want them to
put him under any pressure, but leave him to do what he was best at doing. Jimmy agreed to all my demands, and asked if I wanted him to come with me to collect James. I told him I’d rather go alone in case the chef had anything he wanted to ask me, away from the three of them. Billy threw me the keys of the Luton van and I said that I’d be back just after five o’clock. I pointed down to the car park, and showed them where I would park the van when I got back with the chef. I said I wanted to know that it was safe to bring him up, so I would beep the horn three times when I returned, and if it was OK for us to come up, then someone should open the curtains in the small bedroom. Jimmy took it upon himself to take charge of this task, and confirmed that if he opened the curtains, all was fine for us both to come up.
As I left the flat and walked to the van, I had a strange feeling come over me. I knew that each of the three men was thinking in their heads that they were so close to earning over a million pounds each from this criminal enterprise. In their minds, I was on my way to collect the key that was going to open the door to that fortune. There had been a quiet buzz of excitement in the room when I left, as this would be a huge payday for these men, and I’m sure they had extravagant plans to spend the money. I felt a little bit guilty, particularly for Billy as I’d grown to like him. He was a nice man – yes he was a criminal, but we got on really well and I’d miss our chats and his singing and his stories of ‘the good old days’.
I knew that the team understood that if I went to the train station to collect James, then all the pieces of the jigsaw were in place. He was waiting outside the station with his rucksack, cagoule, scruffy long-sleeved shirt and green jumbo cords. His trousers were slightly short for him and he wore muddy walking boots on his feet. He did look like a proper boffin – there was no doubt about that.
James climbed into the van and I filled him in on the events of the past couple of days. I explained that we would park the van at the block of flats and on a signal from Jimmy that it was safe, we would go up to the flat. James knew exactly what I expected of him and he was keen to get to the flat. Sure enough, Jimmy opened the curtains and it was time for us to leave the van. I grabbed James by the arm and held on for a moment. I said to him, ‘Is it right that I feel a tad guilty right now, James? Billy and the boys are going away for a long time because of me, and I’d be lying if I wasn’t a little bit sad about that.’ James held my arm and said, ‘They’re called feelings, Joe, and it’s how we deal with them that makes us who we are. Now come on, you have a job to finish.’
We made our way up to the flat and Billy let us in. Jimmy was over-the-top nice to James and he was offered a cup of tea, which he declined. He took his cagoule and rucksack off and put them on his mattress, and he rolled up the sleeves of his open-necked shirt. Billy, James and I went through the diagram that he had ‘given’ us to ensure we had set up the glassware correctly. Jimmy wanted to go through the potential yield directly with James, as if he wanted to hear from the horse’s mouth how rich he was soon to be.
At that exact moment, the front door of the flat came crashing in; it was smashed to pieces as uniform police in boiler suits and riot helmets came through the door. We were all thrown to the floor before a question was asked. Two of the officers then sat on the small of my back and handcuffed me with plastic cuffs. I was trussed up like a Christmas turkey.
As we lay face down on the floor, we were all informed that we were being arrested for conspiracy to manufacture MDMA. I looked at Billy as I lay on the floor; he was about five feet away from me. I could see the enormity of the situation hit him – he closed his eyes as he lay there and more than one teardrop rolled down his cheek. I could have cried with him, but I was unceremoniously yanked to my feet and taken out of the flat. As the officers led me down the stairs, the detective inspector in charge of the operation stopped them. He held both my shoulders and said, ‘Fantastic work, Joe.’
I didn’t reply to him because, at that moment, I didn’t feel so great about myself. I was taken to the back of a police van and locked in the cage; I sat there alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company.
Twenty-nine
I must have drifted off to sleep, because I was woken by the sound of my ringtone. The engine was still running and it was really warm in the car. I looked up to see the sign for the pub and realised I was sat in its car park, and I wasn’t sure how long I had been there. I saw Emma’s name illuminate the screen of my phone and I answered. She said that she’d been worried and then asked where I was. I explained that I had just dropped Ray off at his place and I’d be home in ten minutes. I asked her if she minded running me a bath with some cracked-black-pepper bubble bath. She told me that Dave wanted me to ring him when I got back. Instead, I used the journey time to bring Dave up to speed with the current situation, and we agreed that Emma, myself and the team would meet up the following morning at eleven to work out the way forwards.
I stopped briefly at Marks and Spencer and grabbed a bottle of house champagne and a pizza and some garlic bread. The thought of Emma doing her very best to knock up a meal worried me slightly, and of course I was thinking of her when I made the decision, as she was busy enough without having to slave at the stove. At least that’s what I’d tell her.
I came in the back door, handed her the bag of shopping and told her to get some ice for the fizz. She said I shouldn’t have bothered, as she was just about to start cooking. ‘Well, I thought I’d save you the time. It’ll be cooked by the time I’m out of the bath.’
I had a lovely, relaxing, ten-minute bath as I listened to Cat Stevens’s Tea for the Tillerman. I loved the words of his songs and the emotion in his voice, which was interrupted by Emma telling me to come and join her for supper. I sat in a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops as we both enjoyed a perfectly cooked pizza and garlic bread, and a few glasses of bubbles.
Emma filled me in on her day, blow by blow. She was very descriptive in explaining to me all the characters who were coming into the shop. She had been very busy and really was doing a great job; she was running the shop on her own and was managing to keep on top of all the bookkeeping and relevant paperwork. I thought to myself that I was very proud of what she was doing; not many, if anyone at all, could have achieved what she had so far. She was a mother and a wife, but her commitment to this operation was truly commendable.
The next morning Emma wasn’t opening up the shop, but instead of us having a lie-in before the meeting, I dragged her out of the house at eight o’clock to go to the gym together. She really was a misery in the mornings, and without her caffeine intake, even grumpier. It annoyed her that I was so lively from the moment I was awake. But we had a good workout and I finished with a lovely steam, which Emma skipped so she could grab a coffee for herself.
We travelled in separate cars to meet the team. I saw in my mirror that Emma stopped at her favourite delicatessen, so I arrived before her. The team was all gathered together, and there were two new faces I had never met before. I was introduced to the two of them by Carl. One was like a character from Countryfile; he was about forty years old, and wore a tweed jacket and a shirt that had seen better days around the collar. He was called Adrian and he spoke with a broad Norfolk accent. Adrian looked like he spent a lot of time working outdoors; he had a weathered face, and a strong handshake without trying. He was a real jovial character, and said he was really glad he’d been chosen by Dave to join the team. The second one had a mop of ginger hair; he was fresh-faced and had a huge beaming smile on his face. He was good friends with Carl, who had recommended him for the role. His name was Cameron, and he had a great knowledge of IT and technical systems so would be a good asset to the team. He said that he’d heard a lot about me.
Emma came through the door holding two white cakeboxes in front of her. Before she could say a word, Carl shouted out, ‘At least someone appreciates the work we do, Joe.’ She placed the boxes on the table, and opened them carefully to reveal eight gorgeous-looking cakes and french fancies.
I had a real desire to quietly walk out of the door and drive home. I imagined myself waiting for my daughter at the school gates to surprise her. She would run across the playground and I would kneel down as she threw herself into my arms. As she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, I’d hold her tight until she told me I was squeezing her. We would walk home hand in hand together. In my mind, I could see the huge smile on her face as I carried her schoolbag and she chattered nonstop about the day, the week or the month that I had missed in her life. How could I make this up to her –could I put it right?
Emma came over to me and asked, ‘What on earth is the matter, Joe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ I told her that I thought I’d lost a load of money, but I’d just remembered it was still in my overnight bag at home. We all sat around the table and discussed the next stage of the operation. Everyone on the team knew their role and what was expected from them. Dave said that it was going to be a very busy few months, and he demanded 100 per cent commitment from the team. He stressed the importance of secrecy and told them if he caught anyone talking about the operation to anyone other than the other members of the team, they would be off the job instantly.
