“OK. A man called Ibrahim Kouri was our fifth victim, but we don’t know yet that he was our bomb maker. Tempting as it is to make that link, I don’t want any assumptions. Kouri could be a common name in the Middle East.”
Annette cut in. “So the man we saw on the CCTV planting the bomb with Delaney was Middle Eastern?”
Craig shook his head. “No. Again don’t assume things. The victim of the explosion was Middle Eastern but we have nothing yet to say that he was the bomber. The bomber may not have returned to the shop with Delaney the following day. He could be hallway around the world by now.”
Annette wasn’t letting it go. “But it would make sense.”
Of course it made sense that the man who’d planted the bomb with Delaney had returned to Papyrus with him the following day and died in the explosion. And that Ibrahim Kouri their dead bomb victim and the Kouri the bomb maker were the same man, but until they had things completely sewn up, saying so would make people narrow their focus and Craig wasn’t having that. Craig’s voice was firm.
“Just as it would make sense that the dead man was someone Middle Eastern from SNI who’d accompanied Sharon Greer to the shop to take a look around their future development site.”
Annette was undeterred. “Except that Hilary Stenson is adamant that no-one from SNI is missing. I’m following up on that today, but she was sure.”
Craig sipped at his now cold espresso, making a face. The others chatted until he had a fresh coffee in his hand and re-started.
“OK, Annette, did Mrs Stenson have anything else to say?”
Annette flicked open her notebook and read for a second, then she shook her head. “Basically just what we already know. SNI wanted Jules Robinson out of the shop and they were paying UKUF to lean on him. But Stenson denies vehemently that SNI authorised the bombing and she says that it was never a tactic that SNI used. There are obviously Saudi members of the Board but Stenson is certain none of them are missing. I’ll keep checking.”
Craig nodded. “OK, good. I’m inclined to agree with Annette; I think SNI are a dead end.” He had a thought. “Ken, check with John to see if the Ibrahim Kouri’s DNA he found matches your bomb maker’s, if there’s a record of his anywhere. Davy, was there anything more on the cameras outside the shop?”
Davy glanced up from the pages he had on his knee. “Like?”
“Like a car with a rough looking driver. Sharon Greer was head of a paramilitary gang; she didn’t go anywhere without a bodyguard.”
Davy rifled through his papers and pulled out a page triumphantly, handing it to Craig. “I w…was going to wait till my turn to tell you, but…”
Craig scanned the image and nodded, giving it to Liam to pass around. “What time was that taken?”
“One o’clock on the day of the explosion. It’s from the s…street camera outside Castle Court shopping centre. A Ford Granada dropped Sharon Greer off and she w…went inside. The Ford drove off immediately afterwards.”
Annette stared at the image, muttering to herself. “She must have walked through the centre, left by the door nearest Smithfield and walked to Papyrus. I wonder why she didn’t just get dropped off there?”
Liam sniffed. “Didn’t trust her driver? Or maybe she was meeting someone in Castle Court?”
Davy continued. “I’ve got a later one that shows more, chief. W…When we get to my bit, I’ll show you on my s…screen. It’s better than s…stills.”
“We’ll come back to you in a moment, Davy. I want to cover a couple of other things.” Craig turned back to Ken. “Any more on the bomb?”
Smith nodded. “Yes. What we thought was a photograph frame attached to the bomb actually was. It held someone’s photograph. Our forensics managed to reconstruct it partially, but unfortunately not enough to get a face. I can tell you that it was a woman.”
It was Craig’s turn to gawp. He’d pictured the frame holding some sort of rebel icon or symbol, but a woman’s photograph? “How do you know?”
“Forensics pulled up the lower part of the image. It was a woman’s feet in sandals and she was wearing a long skirt. That was all they could get.”
Liam cut in. “What sort of sandals?”
Smith glanced quickly at Carmen and then back at Liam, with a faint blush lighting his cheeks. “What would I know about women’s sandals?”
Liam gave him a martyred look. “You’d soon learn if you had a wife. The shoes could tell us something, boss. Were they high heeled or flat? If they’re flat summer sandals then the photo might have been taken somewhere hot. Maybe on holiday. There might even be something about the shoes’ design that could help us…”
Nicky interjected. “Does she have varnished toenails, and if so what colour? That could tell you when the photo was taken. Popular nail varnish colours change all the time.”
Everyone chipped in. “What sort of light was in the photo? It could tell you the time of day.” And “If there’s something in the background it could help with geography…”
After a minute’s discussion Craig waved them down and turned back to Smith. “Go back and ask army forensics the questions please, and Des Marsham. I’m presuming he has a copy of it now?”
Smith nodded.
“What about the watch?”
Smith shook his head. “It was centuries old and made of solid silver; a serious antique. But that’s all we know. It was in bits. There were no markings left to see.”
“Why use an old, potentially unreliable watch as a timer instead of a digital switch? It has to mean something.”
Nicky’s husky voice cut across Craig’s words. “Is no-one going to ask the most obvious question?”
Annette took the bait. “What?”
“Why the heck attach a photograph of a woman to a bomb in the first place!”
Craig laughed loudly. Nicky was right, and it was something he’d thought about a few days before. Davy answered before anyone else.
“That’s easy. Either they loved her or hated her.”
Nicky was undeterred. “Yes, smarty-pants, we already know it’s a symbol of love. If it was some woman they hated they’d have blown her up, not her photo. But did they love her specifically, or was she just a symbol of something they loved, like country or family, or freedom?”
Davy opened his mouth then closed it again, thinking about what she’d said. Craig smiled. He’d long thought that Nicky would have been an asset as a police officer, but she liked her glamour too much to ever wear a uniform and the force didn’t issue shoes with five-inch heels.
“Good, Nicky. We’ll follow up on that. I think the use of an antique watch means something as well, but what I’ve no idea what yet.” Craig turned to Liam. “Liam, anything more on Zac Greer before I hand over to Davy?”
Liam shook his head slowly, his mind still on Nicky’s words. He had a hunch about something but he was keeping quiet about it until he’d checked it out.
“Nope. He didn’t know anything about his Mum’s death, I’m sure of that, and he definitely didn’t order her hit. He was gutted when he found out she was dead. There’s an uncle in Glasgow, Sharpy’s brother, but until social services make contact the lad’s been taken into care.” He turned to Annette and his voice took on a slightly grudging tone. “You were right, cutty. He couldn’t stay on his own at fifteen. He just seemed older because of the life he’d led.”
Annette nodded. “It’s a hard call because he’s spent his life around UKUF; they’re his family. But he can go back to them in a few months when he reaches sixteen.”
“If he wants to. Who knows, a few months in a normal family might show him a better life.”
Annette gave a sceptical sniff. “That’s always supposing Sharon Greer’s brother isn’t just as bad as she was.”
Craig nodded. What were the odds of that?
Liam continued. “With the whole Greer clan out of the way that means there’ll be a battle for the crown, so watch this space.”
Craig nodded. �
��I spoke to Geoff Hamill in Gang Crime, so they’ve been warned that it’s coming.”
Liam had finished so Craig turned back to Davy. He was scribbling a line of programme on the back of a page. Eventually he noticed the silence and looked up.
“S…Sorry, chief, I was writing a programme for shoe identification, but it can w…wait. OK...” Davy loped over to his desk and took a seat, beckoning them all to follow. A moment later his horseshoe of screens filled with images of Gresham Street.
“Right. This is last Thursday, the afternoon of the bomb.” He pointed to his left-hand screen. “This one s…shows the street outside Papyrus and the right-hand one is the shop’s interior. W…Watch the street film from one-forty-five.”
They watched as a dark Mercedes pulled up on Gresham Street. It held three figures. The rear passenger door opened and a woman stepped out. She leaned back in and said something to a figure on the back seat, then crossed the street to Papyrus and entered the shop.
“That was S…Sharon Greer. The next five minutes are boring, so I’ll fast-forward.”
At one-fifty Davy slowed the tape again, just as a man walked down the pavement opposite the Mercedes and entered the shop. “You can’t see his face from this angle, but take my word for it, that’s Barry McGovern. I’ve had a good look at the enlarged s...stills. Now, w…watch the car driver.”
Sure enough, as soon as McGovern entered the shop the driver stepped out and scanned the street, then he relaxed slightly and lit a cigarette. He looked just like a chauffeur waiting for his passenger, except that his steroid-bulked shape and the bulge in his jacket said he hadn’t attended a nice training school.
“No-one entered the shop after that.”
Liam cut in. “So that means Delaney, Robinson and Kouri were already inside before one-forty-five.”
“Yes, w…which made me think; how could anyone have known that S…Sharon Greer was coming to the shop that day, or Barry McGovern? I haven’t found connections to either of them on Delaney’s laptop or phone.”
Craig shook his head. “Delaney didn’t know, because Greer and McGovern weren’t the targets.”
Annette nodded. “I checked with McGovern’s wife. He just dropped into Papyrus the odd time. He didn’t go regularly on a Thursday afternoon.”
Craig sighed. A completely innocent victim. Liam interrupted his thoughts.
“Which just leaves the shop itself, Jules Robinson or unlucky Mr Kouri as possible targets, boss. That’s if Kouri wasn’t the second bomber.”
“Or something inside the shop was the target, Liam. We’ve stayed away from that possibility until now, but I’m not so sure.” Craig ignored Liam’s questioning look and waved Davy on.
“OK, now w…watch the right-hand screen. It shows the CCTV views from inside the s…shop.”
The screen was split into two CCTV views, covering the front and back of the shop. The tall book shelves hid the centre entirely.
“Where were the interior cameras positioned, Davy?”
“There w…were only two, above the doors.”
“So these are our only views?”
Davy nodded and Craig motioned him to carry on. The film fast-forwarded from one-forty and at one-forty-six Sharpy Greer entered the shop. She browsed for a moment and then headed towards the back, where they could just make-out Jules Robinson stacking shelves. They spoke for a while until at one-fifty-four; Robinson stormed angrily towards the front of the shop. Had they been discussing his protection payments or had Sharpy been telling Robinson he had to vacate the shop so that SNI could have the land?
They watched as Barry McGovern entered the shop just after one-fifty and browsed the shelves towards the front, his face lighting up as he flicked through the books. Just a book-lover, there for a relaxing afternoon. McGovern asked Jules Robinson something about a book and they started to chat pleasantly. Fintan Delaney was standing near the front door, ostensibly reading a book and then playing with his phone. Davy pressed pause and re-started the street screen. As the time reached one-fifty-eight they saw what he’d wanted to show them. The shop’s ‘open’ sign was suddenly turned to ‘closed’ and the front door blind came down.
Craig exclaimed loudly. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
All eyes turned to him and Liam nodded slowly, understanding what Craig was swearing about.
“That’s why Delaney stood by the door! To make sure no-one else came in. He knew the bomb was about to explode and he was trying to limit the number of deaths.”
Annette shook her head. “But why not close the door earlier and save more lives, if we’re sure that it wasn’t Sharpy or McGovern the bomb was aimed at?”
Craig shook his head. “Any earlier and someone inside might have got suspicious and called the police. Delaney had to wait until the last minute.”
Davy stared at Craig, waiting for permission to continue. Craig nodded him on.
“OK. W…Watch what the Mercedes driver does at two o’clock.”
From one-fifty-eight, when Papyrus’ front door closed, Davy played the street screen in slow time. The Mercedes’ chauffeur lit a fresh cigarette and scanned Gresham Street, bored. At two p.m. precisely he jerked his head towards the shop and reached inside his jacket, withdrawing a gun. He ran towards the shop then stopped halfway as if he’d thought better of it or been called back, then he jumped into the car and screeched off in the direction of town.
“He heard the explosion and you saw his reaction. He went towards the shop to check on S…Sharon Greer, but w…whoever was in the Mercedes wanted out of there fast.”
Davy tapped the screen again and the team saw the greys of the shop’s exterior façade disappear in a ball of white at two p.m. It enveloped the street, depositing shards of glass and wood on the road and opposite pavement. They grew more visible as the white glow gradually disappeared.
Annette was the first to speak. “Who was in the car?”
“What?”
“Who was in the car Sharon Greer arrived in? Her men dropped her off at Castle Court nearly an hour earlier, so who owned the Mercedes?”
Craig paused; surprised by the question and by the fact that he hadn’t considered it. Liam chanced an answer.
“SNI? If Sharpy was meeting them at Castle Court they might have driven her round to the shop. They could afford a decent car and chauffeur.”
Annette nodded. “Maybe. That means it must have been someone from SNI in the back seat.”
Craig nodded. “Good pick-up, Annette. Run the plates and confirm it, please.” He motioned Davy to continue playing the film from inside the shop.
Davy cast a nervous look around the group, as if warning them what was to come. Craig took the hint.
“We’re about to see the interior of the shop at the moment of explosion. Anyone who doesn’t wish to see this, it’s fine to go back to work.”
Nicky took Craig up on his offer but everyone else stayed put. Liam’s face set in a grim mask and Craig knew he was thinking of the friends he’d lost in bomb blasts, and that Ken must be thinking the same about Iraq. Davy tapped on the screen and ran the shop tape again from one-fifty-five. They watched as Jules Robinson chatted happily to Barry McGovern, about a book from the shop’s wall shelves.
“That w…was the ancient history section.” Davy paused the tape again and tapped up the shop’s floor plan on his centre screen. “History was along the side w…wall, politics on the high bookshelf nearest the front, literature and religion towards the back.”
Liam interjected. “The place sounds like a barrel of laughs; I’m surprised they sold anything.”
At one-fifty-five Fintan Delaney set down the book he was perusing and made a show of playing with his phone. Liam waved Davy to stop the tape and turned to Smith.
“Could the bomb have been detonated by a phone?”
Smith shook his head. “Could have been but wasn’t. The watch was the timer. I think Delaney was just playing with his phone to look busy.”
Craig nodded
. “Were there any outgoing calls or texts from Delaney’s phone during the time of this tape?”
Davy shook his head. “None. I think Captain Smith is right. The phone was just a displacement activity.”
He pressed start again and they watched as at one-fifty-eight, Fintan Delaney locked the shop’s front door, set the sign to ‘closed’ and then slowly drew down the blind. The tape ran forward slowly as McGovern and Robinson chatted happily, oblivious to what was about to occur. Delaney moved nervously from foot to foot and then at two o’clock precisely the screen whited-out. Craig signalled to freeze the tape. He was frowning, but not for the same reason the rest of them were. He signalled Davy to reverse the tape.
“Oh, sir, do we really have to see it again?”
“I’m sorry Annette, but yes. I saw something. Davy, take it back to one-fifty-eight please.” Craig leaned in, peering at the screen intently as it ran from Delaney shutting the front door to the moment of the blast. He nodded emphatically.
“Yes! Davy, print me out an enlarged still of Delaney at one-fifty-nine.”
One minute later Craig was pointing at the page and the others were wondering what they were supposed to see. Smith saw it first. “My God! He’s bowing. Delaney bowed to his right-hand-side just before the blast!”
“Yes. And my money says he was bowing towards the South-East. Davy, check which direction that side of the shop faces.”
Liam rubbed his chin, half-seeing but not convinced. “Maybe he was just bowing to the people he knew he was about to kill.”
Craig raised his eyebrow sceptically. “Except that they were at the back or left side of the shop from where he stood. No-one was on his right-hand-side.”
Davy stared at his screen and gasped. “It’s South-East! You were right.”
Craig nodded. “He was bowing towards Mecca.” He wasn’t finished. “Delaney said something, Davy, just before he bowed, he definitely said something. I want a lip-reading expert to tell us what it was.”
Smith whispered the words that he’d heard every day in Iraq. “Allah Hu Akbar.” He shook his head sadly and then repeated them aloud. “It was Allah Hu Akbar. God is great.”
The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) Page 23
