The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series)

by Catriona King

  He turned back to the flip chart but not before he saw Carmen’s excited smile. She’d handled the web side of things well, there was no reason she shouldn’t do the same with this, although he knew Liam wouldn’t be pleased by her autonomy.

  “OK, so we know both buyers: Keaton and Neeson, and the likely thief Larry Benner. Carmen, get him lifted as well, please, wherever he is. We know that two of the middle-men are dead; the man in the bank who we think was Alain Berger, and Jules Robinson. Ken, until Annette comes back I want you to work with Davy on confirming Berger was the man at the Banque de Paris and finding the previous owner or owners of the books. When Annette returns track them down and do the same as we have with the buyers. The longer they’re out there unprotected the likelier it is that they’ll be killed.”

  Craig glanced at his watch. “Right, it’s three-fifty. I’m heading to High Street to interview someone with Liam. We’ll reconvene at five for an update. Can I have a one page summary from each of you then please, ready to be handed over to the CIA.”

  Carmen groaned. “Do we have to give it to them? They’ll wreck everything.”

  “Yes, we do. They’re good at what they do and the special relationship has to be maintained. Ken, get onto Agents Ross and Mulhearn please and tell them I want them here at five, with an update on the location we gave them in Pakistan.”

  Smith looked puzzled. “How will I contact them, sir? Through the American Embassy?”

  “You could do. Alternatively you could just look out the window. They’ve been sitting outside in their car again for hours.”

  ***

  High Street Station. 4 p.m.

  By the time Craig reached High Street Liam had his feet up in the staff-room and was munching on a custard cream. Craig smiled hello to Jack Harris and deliberately knocked Liam’s feet off the coffee table as he walked by.

  “We need to start; we have to be back by five. Where’s Tommy?”

  Jack answered him. “Having tea and biccies in interview room one and ranting about the injustice of it all.”

  “Injustice my foot. The only injustice here is that we ever believed he was going straight.”

  Craig poured himself a coffee and headed for the door while Liam slipped some biscuits into his pocket for later. One minute later they were sitting opposite an unrepentant Tommy Hill who was munching noisily on a Rich Tea.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Tommy?”

  Tommy squinted at Craig, trying to muster up his animosity of a year before but failing. Craig and the ghost had done all right by him; they’d done for the scrote who’d killed Evie and now he’d got a nice new house in a posh area where he could live out his remaining days. So instead of his customary scowl, Tommy grinned at them. It wasn’t a sarcastic smirk or a pitying smile, he actually grinned, happily, like a normal person. Liam gawped at the old lag and then at Craig, who shook his head in disbelief.

  “Tommy, are you taking this seriously? I repeat; do you know why you’re here?”

  Hill maintained his sunny demeanour and gave an amused shrug. “’Cos you’ve nathin’ better tee do?”

  Tommy was going to play the denial game and they didn’t have the time. Craig had come prepared. He took something from his pocket and set it on the desk so Hill could see. It was a photograph of Jules Robinson. They both saw the glimmer of recognition in Hill’s small eyes.

  “Don’t bother denying that you know him, Tommy. How?”

  Hill yawned and reached into his pocket for a cigarette, putting it un-lit into his mouth. The silence that followed said he was going to play games, so Liam did what he did best. He roared.

  “We know you were working with him, Tommy. When did you two meet?” Liam slammed his palm down hard for emphasis making Hill jump back.

  “Here, don’t be starting all that. I’ve dun nathin’”

  Craig cut in. “You’ve done enough for us to take your new house away, so talk if you want any hope of holding onto it.”

  Craig had no intention of blocking Hill’s house move but he needed answers and fear seemed like the quickest route.

  Hill’s affability switched to a familiar scowl and he hissed at them under his breath. “I’ll kill both of ye if you try. See if I don’t.”

  Craig rarely raised his voice but he did now. He rose to his feet and loomed over the small man.

  “You stupid bastard, we’re trying to save your life here. Just answer the question. How do you know this man?”

  Hill reared up so that his face was six inches from Craig’s and Liam watched as they stared each other out. Tommy blinked first and sat back heavily in his chair.

  “He nicked me a few times, back in the day.”

  Craig retook his seat. That may have been true but it was a more recent acquaintance he cared about. “Recently. What contact did you have with him recently?”

  Hill considered for a moment, thinking about his new council house. His shoulders dropped, signalling concession. “He contacted me about some aul books he wanted.”

  “And asked you to do what?”

  “Well he didn’t ask me to buy them for him in Waterstones, did he?”

  Liam leaned forward. “You stole them?”

  Hill shook his head, surprising both men. “Nah. They was in England. I got a mate of mine tee nick them. He brought one over on the Liverpool–Belfast last week. I paid him and Robinson paid me.”

  “Was your mate’s name Larry Benner by any chance?”

  A quick creasing of Tommy’s forehead said yes.

  “Did you meet him while enjoying Her Majesty’s hospitality?”

  Still no answer but Craig was undeterred. He tried a different tack. “What happened to the second book, Tommy?”

  Hill shrugged. “Benner got a better offer from some bloke in Paris. I only got one of them.”

  They’d confirmed that the two books had had one owner and Davy had just called through with a name; Gareth Holmes. Now they had the owner, Gareth Holmes, the thief, Larry Benner, two buyers, Neeson and Keaton, and three middle men that they knew of; Tommy, Jules Robinson and Alain Berger in Paris.

  Craig cut in. “How much?”

  Tommy answered in an incongruously prim voice. “I don’t think that’s any of yer business.”

  “Dealing in stolen goods is. How much did Robinson pay you, Tommy?”

  Tommy shrugged. He’d already spent most of it; good luck to the cops trying to get it back.

  “Five grand. I paid Benner one.”

  Craig almost laughed at the pettiness of the amount. Jules Robinson had had Jack Neeson lined up to pay millions. Robinson had crossed the line between law and disorder; probably fed up with years of watching crooks making a fortune while he’d struggled by on an average wage. But there was a reason why people instinctively chose one side or another; they usually didn’t have what it took to cross the floor. Trying to be a criminal had killed Jules Robinson.

  Craig thought for a moment and then decided that Tommy deserved to know how much at risk he was. In a few minutes Craig outlined the trail of book theft and trafficking across Europe, then he came to the piéce de resistance.

  “Did you hear about the bomb in Smithfield last week, Tommy?”

  Hill nodded and waved a hand at Liam. “Aye, sure Ghost here was asking me about protection rackets.” His face lit up suddenly. “Here, guess who’s the new boss of UKUF? Only McCrae.” His voice took on a note of pride. “I alays knew that boy wud do well.”

  Craig shook his head at Tommy’s definition of ‘well’ and got back to the point. “The bomb was planted at Jules Robinson’s bookshop and we believe that it was set specifically to destroy the book that you obtained for him.”

  “What? What the hell for? It was only an aul book. Mouldy looking thing too.”

  “The book was considered blasphemous by some people, Tommy and they want anyone who had anything to do with its sale dead.”

  Craig paused to let the words sink in then watched as surprise morphed
into incredulity and then horror on Hill’s thin face. The aging criminal jumped to his feet in shock.

  “Ye mean they… I only got the book for Robinson, I didn’t steal it!”

  Craig shook his head. “They don’t care, Tommy. As far as they’re concerned anyone who was involved is fair game, so we need to keep you safe till this blows over.” Craig waited a moment before continuing. “The American authorities will want to speak to you as well. The group who planted the bomb is wanted by them and others.”

  Tommy shook his head furiously. “I’m not goin’ to the States. They lock people up fer life fer jaywalking.” He added “Ella…” pathetically and Craig nodded.

  “We won’t allow that to happen. You’re an idiot, Tommy, but you’re our idiot. We’ll charge you with dealing in stolen goods and you can explain it all to a judge.”

  Craig stood up and gazed at the subdued man. “For God’s sake go straight, Tommy. Or if not for God’s sake for Ella’s, please.”

  ***

  Docklands. 5 p.m.

  As Craig and Liam re-entered the squad-room they were treated to the sight of Nicky flirting with Agents Ross and Mulhearn, in a way that had them leaning back in their chairs, more afraid than if they’d been faced with any terrorist. Craig nodded at her in gratitude and slipped into his office with Liam loping behind.

  Once there he phoned Carmen at her desk. “Anything on Neeson?”

  “Yes, sir. Chief Inspector Duncan had him lifted and he’s in custody now.”

  “Good work. When he comes down to High Street you can interview him with Annette. Is Ken there?”

  A moment later Smith came on the phone.

  “Ken, Nicky’s keeping the CIA busy. Tell me about our friend in Geneva.”

  Smith grinned, more pleased at the arms dealer’s arrest than by anything in a long time.

  “They’re holding Keaton at their headquarters. It’s brilliant, sir, we’ve been after this guy for years for arms dealing and now we get him because of a book!”

  “Ted Bundy was caught during a routine traffic stop. OK, good. Alert MI6 and Major James now please.”

  “Already done.”

  Craig smiled.

  “Just one thing, sir. Keaton’s an American citizen. That means the CIA will want to be involved.”

  “Interpol and MI6 will get a crack at him first then the CIA can have their turn. OK, we’ve got the name of the perp who stole the books and the name of their original owner in England. Get onto the English forces to lift them and get them both down to the Met; a Chief Inspector Idowu will be expecting them. Then join us at the briefing. I’ll delay it for five minutes.”

  By ten-past-five everyone pretty much knew everything, including the name of the books’ original owner Gareth Holmes, who lived in Cookham Rise in London’s wealthy commuter belt. The Met could find out who he’d got the books from.

  Craig kept Tommy Hill’s name until last, giving the two agents a challenging look as he spoke.

  “He’s under arrest and going nowhere, so if you want to question him then you’ll have to do it here.”

  Ross was about to object when a sudden buzz in his pocket made him take out his phone and exchange a look with Mulhearn. They stood up abruptly. “We need to take a call. Is there…”

  “Use my office.”

  The two men strode into Craig’s office and a few murmured words were quickly followed by whoops of delight.

  Liam gestured towards the noise. “Inhibited pair, aren’t they?”

  An even less inhibited series of air-punches followed and when the men re-emerged they looked unfeasibly pleased.

  “Anything you can share with us?”

  Ross grinned. “We sure can.” He gestured to Davy’s screens. “If your boy could turn on his screen, they’re just sending the images through.”

  The boy did as he was bid and they crowded round Davy’s tech horseshoe, watching as grainy black and white images appeared on his central screen. Ross explained in his southern drawl.

  “They’re streaming it through from the Pentagon. It’s on a five minute delay.”

  Craig squinted at the image. “What are we looking at?”

  “The Kharan Desert at night.” Mulhearn glanced at his watch. “It’s after nine p.m. there.”

  As they watched the screen, several white shapes moved in the darkness. One or two in the open and the rest inside makeshift tents. There were approximately twenty in all, spread out in a circle four hundred metres across. It was a camp! As soon as the word entered Craig’s mind he knew what was coming. At the periphery of the camp were more white shapes, moving swiftly and on foot. They entered the tents one by one, shooting anyone who resisted in a shower of white gun-fire. In less than a minute there were only three from the twenty shapes still moving and they were being herded forward at the point of a gun. The screen flickered off in a hail of static and they all knew what the agents had been whooping about.

  No-one said anything until Craig broke the silence. “How many?”

  Mulhearn answered cheerfully. “We got three. They’re on their way back home now.”

  Craig’s face was solemn. “I meant how many did you kill?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Disgusted as he was at the terrorists’ behaviour he couldn’t feel much better about what he’d just seen. He pitied the men in custody in Geneva and London and hoped that MI6 got to them first. In that moment he made a decision.

  Craig beckoned Carmen and Ken to follow him to his office, leaving the others still gawping at the blacked-out screen. As they entered he spoke quickly.

  “I want you two on a plane to Geneva via London tonight. Check on Benner and Holmes in London first. Question them thoroughly and make sure they’re not likely to be extradited to the States, then get to Geneva and do the same for Troy Keaton. Ken, liaise with the military over Keaton’s arms dealing please, and Davy will give you his contacts at MI6 and Interpol. The CIA will want to interrogate everyone who had anything to do with this case, even though it happened on European soil; that’s fine but it’s your job to make sure that only happens under supervision. OK? I want these people to be tried where their crimes were committed. What the European courts decide to do with them is another thing.”

  Smith nodded. No-one liked terrorists and thieves, but everything had happened in Europe so they should be tried in its courts. Keaton would be their hardest sell; he was a US citizen.

  “Carmen, are you OK to go?”

  Carmen nodded excitedly, flattered to be trusted with the police side of the task. Craig smiled, wondering what the odds on their romance would stand at once Davy knew about this. They would have to wait till they got back from John’s wedding to see whether Switzerland’s beauty had had a romantic effect.

  “Get ready to leave and call me with regular updates. We’re all on leave from Monday but I’m contactable by phone.”

  They slipped out and Craig re-joined the group just as Annette arrived. She was brought up to speed quickly by an awe-struck Davy.

  “You s…should have seen it, Annette. They went in and shot…”

  Craig beckoned her quickly to one side.

  “Nicky said you were following up a hunch?”

  Annette dragged her eyes away from the agents and tried to look less shocked than she felt.

  “Yes, sir. It may be nothing but something that Hilary Stenson said rang a bell.”

  “What bell?”

  “Well, I thought that if SNI had worked with a gang like UKUF to get the land they wanted over here, then how many other times had they done it? So I checked the land registry throughout the British Isles.”

  “And?”

  Annette nodded. “There was always a delay between SNI exploring planning permission on a site and actually buying the land, but they put a huge amount of money into preliminary searches, not only about the land but about its current occupants.”

  “They’d been banking on getting the land, whatever it took.”

/>   “Yes. So I contacted the serious crime lads in each city and asked if the areas in question had gangs or protection rackets running in them. And if there’d been any suspicion of pressure being exerted to obtain the land. It’s early days but the facts seem to point to yes, so I thought we should build a case against SNI UK wide, before showing our hand?”

  Craig smiled. If Annette was right the case could crack SNI’s racket wide open.

  “Do you want to be seconded to Serious Crime until it’s done?”

  Annette shook her head. “I can do it in my down time, if that’s OK. SNI have no idea that we’re onto them and they’re going nowhere.”

  Craig smiled again, relieved. He didn’t want to lose Annette from the team, but he hadn’t wanted to stand in her way. He had a second thought; how would she fit in all the extra work around her marriage? He decided that she’d probably already made her choice.

  He ushered Annette back to the group, marvelling at how what had started as an explosion in a small bookshop had turned into an international case. He was reluctant to allow the agents any more access to his squad-room than they already had so he made an executive decision.

  “Anyone for dinner at The James?”

  As Carmen and Ken packed up their desks, he nodded them to join the group for dinner, with a subtext to keep quiet about their task. As everyone filtered off the floor Craig put a call through to the lab, inviting John and Des to join the group. Tonight they would celebrate cracking the case and cement the special relationship over a beer. Tomorrow they would get to the serious business of sealing things off.

  Chapter Twenty

  Barbados. Friday, 1st August. 11 p.m. local time

  “You’re certain you’ve got the ring?”

  Craig nodded and took another sip of wine. “Why only one?”

  John shrugged. “I offered to wear one but Natalie doesn’t like jewellery on men, thank goodness. My hands are in and out of gloves so often I’d have lost it within a week.” He glanced at Craig anxiously. “You’re not going to say anything too embarrassing in your speech, are you?”