The Big Fiddle

by Roger Silverwood

  ‘Ahmed,’ he said.

  He turned round. ‘Good morning, sir. Did you want something?’

  ‘Yes, lad. I want you to find Sergeants Carter, Crisp, and Taylor, and DC Scrivens and tell them I want to see them in the briefing room ASAP on a matter of extreme urgency. All right?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir,’ Ahmed said and he reached out for the phone with a free hand.

  ‘Keep on it, lad, until all four have been contacted, and I want you to come in as well. Oh yes,’ he added as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper on which he had scrawled the white van’s number. ‘Will you find out who owns this vehicle? It’s a large white Ford van.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  Angel then turned away and made for his office.

  About twenty minutes later, assembled in the briefing room at Bromersley station, were Angel, Flora Carter, Crisp, Taylor, Scrivens, Ahmed Ahaz and DI Waldo White. Ahmed was last in. He looked round to see that everybody was present, then he closed the door.

  ‘Everybody’s here, sir.’ Ahmed said.

  ‘Right, lad,’ Angel said. Then he looked around at the expectant faces. ‘Sit down, everybody, please. Anywhere. Quick as you can.’

  The seven were seated in an informal semi-circle so that everybody could see everybody else.

  Angel began.

  ‘Thank you all for responding so promptly. I give special thanks and a warm welcome to DI White of the FSU for coming over from Wakefield.

  ‘Today Lord Tulliver will be opening the International Jewellery Fair in Leeds at ten o’clock. Accompanying him will be Lady Tulliver wearing the Mermaid Diamond. I don’t need to spend any time talking about its worth, the papers have been full of it, nor to suggest what an attraction it will be to every thief in the world. I understand that there will be a highly respected firm looking after the general security of the fair and that there will be a number of West Yorkshire plain-clothes police there. Some insurance companies will, no doubt, also have their men watching over their more significant clients. I also understand that the hall, the public rooms and corridors will be monitored by CCTV. So I wouldn’t expect a large-scale robbery to be attempted in the building.

  ‘However, the most valuable single jewel on view today, the Mermaid Diamond, is kept in the Northern Bank in Clement Attlee Square here in Bromersley when it is not being worn, and because of several apparently separate incidents over the past two weeks or so, I believe that tonight an attempt will be made on the vault of the Northern Bank. For the last three weeks or more I believe that a gang has been burrowing alongside a pipeline which they have cleverly entered through a gas inspection chamber cover in a parking area of Clement Attlee Square. They have then tunnelled under a shop, which was a music shop, to the building next door, which is the bank, and that they now have an explosive device set close to the wall of the vault ready to detonate to allow them to make a quick entry and exit. I believe that when the Tullivers have returned the diamond later today and the bank is closed for business, the gang will strike. After 8 p.m. tonight is the most likely time, because they would then have the benefit of darkness in which to make their escape.

  ‘It will have been an expensive robbery for the gang to mount, so I expect they will be armed. That is why I have asked our friends, the FSU, to assist us in this operation.

  ‘The plan that DI White and I have devised is this. Firstly, the gang may well be attempting to monitor the collecting of the diamond for Lady Tulliver this morning. They will want to clock who actually collects it, who carries it, in which vehicle and so on. They would like to know that so that they will know who and what to look out for when it is returned to the bank’s safekeeping later today. They won’t want to break into the bank if the diamond is not there. And, by the way, the Mermaid Diamond will have to be collected very shortly because her ladyship has to arrive in Leeds wearing it and looking fabulous by around 9.45 or so to be on time at the opening, advertised to be at ten o’clock.

  ‘So we need to set up an “obbo” quickly from where we can keep an eye on the square and align two video cameras to film the activity around the front entrance of the bank and the gas inspection chamber on the road in front of Gregg’s shop. A ground or first-floor room in a house opposite the square on Bradford Road would be ideal. And that needs organizing right now.’

  He looked down the line at DS Crisp. ‘Will you see to that, Trevor?’

  ‘Right, sir,’ Crisp said.

  Angel said, ‘There must be somebody on that stretch of road who will cooperate. You have no time to waste. Off you go. Take Ted Scrivens with you. And when you are all set up give me a ring.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ Crisp said, and he and Scrivens hurried out of the room.

  ‘Obviously, we want to arrest all the gang, if possible,’ Angel said, ‘and as we have the element of surprise, don’t let’s lose it. Does anybody here have an account at the Royal Westminster branch in Clement Attlee Square?’

  DS Carter said, ‘I do, sir. Just an ordinary cheque account.’

  Angel smiled. ‘Great stuff. Can you go there and see what you can see inside the building, particularly when Lord Tulliver – or whoever it might be – arrives to collect the diamond? Also to see if there is any sign of criminal activity inside the bank that might be useful for us to know about … familiar faces, for instance.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Flora Carter said. ‘But it’s a bit difficult hanging around without being conspicuous.’

  ‘You mustn’t be conspicuous, lass. I’ll tell you what, tell them you want to buy a house and see if you can get them to grant you a loan. If and when they make you a proposal, ask a lot of questions. That should keep you in there for an hour at least, but don’t stay any longer than that. Keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you see anything helpful.’

  ‘I will, sir,’ she said, then she hurried out.

  ‘Right,’ Angel said, ‘now the rest of us will assemble from 20.00 hours in unmarked cars in strategic positions out of sight of the bank, but all within a few seconds’ drive of Clement Attlee Square. Our cue will come some little time after the bank alarm bells ring, when the gang will have broken through the vault wall, found the diamond and filled their pockets with as much other loot as they can carry, made their way back along the tunnel to the gas inspection chamber, climbed up into the van through a specially made access hole cut through the bottom of their van, replaced the grate over the gas inspection chamber and the van begins to move away. Trevor Crisp will – hopefully – be observing the van from the “obbo” and will alert us. Then we move in. We should allow them to pull away from their parking place so that we have the best chance of catching them all.’

  ‘After the gang’s broken into the vault, the alarm will be ringing like fury, so they won’t hang about. We don’t know what time today they will enter the tunnel. They will need to be parked over the gas inspection chamber in good time so that they don’t lose their specific loading and unloading position. I was thinking that it might be possible to put a transmitting marker on the van so that if anything goes wrong we would always be able to find it.’

  ‘It would be a risky business, Michael,’ DI White said. ‘If we were seen …’

  Angel looked pensive. ‘Yes,’ he said with a nod. ‘All right. There should be enough of us not to allow it to get away. Right. Are there any questions?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Taylor said. ‘Shouldn’t we tell the Tullivers that we believe that the bank is going to be robbed tonight and that—’

  ‘No,’ Angel said. ‘If we did that, all their protective security measures would come into play. They would be doubling their security guard, their insurance company would be jumping up and down, Lady Tulliver would have a touch of the vapours and the robbers might suspect a trap. We want everything to seem normal.’

  ‘I agree,’ DI White said. ‘If the gang has the slightest suspicion that anything is amiss, they might delay the project or abandon it altogether, and the opportunity to
catch them might be gone for a long time.’

  ‘This project is top secret,’ Angel said. ‘We tell nobody about it until it is over. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Taylor and Ahmed said.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Taylor said. ‘Does this mean that we’ll be working tonight?’

  ‘Yes, lad. Does that interfere with your plans?’

  ‘Oh no, sir,’ he said with a cheeky grin. ‘Glad to get some overtime in, with summer holidays coming up.’

  ‘If there’s nothing else, Don, don’t wander far today. Don’t leave the station.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ he said and he went out.

  Angel turned to Ahmed. ‘What about that van, lad? Did you find out who owns it?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The owners are J. P. Sorenson Limited. It’s a commercial van hire company, sir, Bayswater Road, London. I’ve spoken to Mr Sorenson and he says that it’s on hire to a Mr Edward Oliver for three months.’

  Angel’s heart missed a beat. His pulse began to race. That name kept cropping up in all bad, very bad places. His lips tightened back against his teeth. He ran his hand smoothly over his hair. ‘Are you sure he said “Edward Oliver”, Ahmed?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir.’

  ‘Have you a phone number for the firm?’

  ‘I’ll soon get it, sir,’ Ahmed said and rushed off.

  DI Waldo White saw Angel change colour and he came over. ‘What’s the matter, Michael? Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so. I’m investigating a murder case and the name, which is an alias, is the name of the murderer. Ahmed has just told me that, according to the owner of the white van, it was hired by a man called Edward Oliver. That damned name keeps on coming up … everywhere I turn.’

  ‘Oh, I see. No. Sorry I can’t help.’

  ‘And the annoying thing is that I believe that I must know him. But I can’t for the life of me place him.’

  ‘Don’t let it get to you, Michael. I know you. You’ll unravel the whole thing. You always do.’

  Angel sighed, then he said, ‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’ Then he smiled and said, ‘I’m forgetting my manners. You’ll be ready for coffee, aren’t you?’

  ‘Normally, Michael, I’d snap your hand off at this time in the morning, but I’d better get back. Lots to do. See you at around 7.30 with my squad.’

  ‘Look forward to it, Waldo,’ Angel said with a wave of the hand.

  White had gone.

  Angel followed him out of the briefing room, but went down the corridor to his own office.

  Ahmed followed him in, waving what looked like a page torn out of his notebook. He pushed the slip of paper under Angel’s nose and said, ‘That phone number, sir.’

  ‘Ah. Right, lad. Thank you.’

  Ahmed went out.

  Angel tapped the London exchange number into his phone. He was soon speaking to Mr John Percy Sorenson, head of J. P. Sorenson Limited. Angel gave him the number of the white van in question and said that he understood that it had been hired to an Edward Oliver for three months.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Inspector,’ Sorensen said. ‘As I remember he was a very charming man.’

  Angel pursed his lips. ‘You wouldn’t let a stranger hire one of your vans without checking that he was genuine, had a permanent address and that he was a responsible driver, would you?’

  ‘Certainly not, but we can’t check everything, Inspector. We check as much as we can, of course. I am looking at his application form now. Mmm. It seems to read all right.’

  ‘Could you email a copy of it to me, Mr Sorensen?’

  ‘Of course. I will have that done straightaway.’

  ‘Thank you very much. Now, can you describe him?’

  ‘Well, he was … I tell you, the girls in the office almost swooned when he came in. He was tall, slim, dark hair and a bit … erm, puckish, you know, I suppose …’

  Angel thought he knew exactly what Sorensen intended to say. ‘Do you mean he had a cherubic face?’

  ‘Yes. That’s it, precisely,’ Sorensen said.

  Angel’s heart began to pound like a mechanical sledgehammer. The man’s description confirmed that it was the same creature who’d murdered Nancy Quinn and Ernest Piddington. It now seemed he was also involved in the plan to steal the Mermaid Diamond. Angel wrinkled his nose. It seemed that wherever there was dishonesty, Edward Oliver was at the forefront. Was there no end to this man’s wickedness?

  ‘How was he dressed?’ Angel said.

  ‘Very smartly. Well-cut dark suit, collar and tie, as I remember.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Mr Sorensen. One last question … Do you remember anything particularly striking about him?’

  There was a short pause. ‘No,’ Sorensen said. ‘He was the personification of a successful, straightforward businessman, Inspector. But why all these questions? Is he wanted for something? I hope my rental will be all right.’

  ‘We just need to speak to him about something, that’s all,’ Angel said evenly. He didn’t want Sorenson making waves until all the thieves had been caught. ‘I look forward to receiving a copy of that application form,’ he added.

  Angel ended the call and put the phone into its holster. He bit his lip as he considered again the possibility – nay, the certainty almost – that the person behind the name ‘Edward Oliver’ was also involved in the planned robbery of the Northern Bank. He shouldn’t have been surprised: Edward Oliver was a highly skilled academic with a sick and convoluted mind. He must have been to be able to devise a complex scheme to persuade a man to leave his home by selling him a tomfool fairy story about double-bass music parts needing to be rewritten, the ruse being conceived solely to allow the crooks to tunnel under the man’s house without having to consider the noise they might make. They had probably used powered hand tools for the heavy work. They would be noisy and may have created vibrations.

  The phone rang. He picked it up. ‘Angel.’

  ‘It’s Flora, sir,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I’m sitting in the open office part of the bank, being attended to by a young woman. She’s just gone off to check on my record. I can see pretty well everybody who comes in and goes out. Two men in Astra Security uniforms, carrying their helmets, have just come in. They went up to the counter and rang the bell. A young girl came and they passed her an envelope. The clerk has taken it. Hold on, sir.’

  ‘Right. While I’m holding on, did you happen to see whether the white van was parked up outside Gregg’s?’

  ‘Yes, sir, it was.’

  ‘When you leave the bank be aware that there will almost certainly be eyes in the van watching everything that is happening.’

  ‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll be careful. Oh, the clerk has just come back. She’s got an older man with her. He’s said something to them. Both security men are looking surprised. They are searching their pockets. Oh, I see. Looks like the bank official wanted more ID from them. He’s checking it.… Hold on, sir.… It seems he’s satisfied. He’s produced a book.… Oh I see. He wants their signatures. He’s handed them a small black tin box. Looks as if it could contain the Mermaid Diamond. What do you want me to do now?’

  ‘Wait until they leave. Unobtrusively follow them outside, clock the scene, then come back here.’

  He ended the call, but it rang again. It was Crisp.

  ‘We’ve set up our obbo in a first-floor bedroom of number 16, Bradford Road, sir, so we’ve got great views of the front entrance of the Northern Bank and the white Ford van in front of Gregg’s. And both cameras are running as we speak. As a matter of fact, I’ve just seen an Astra Security van arrive with four men inside and … no, the two men who got out are returning now and getting back into the van.’

  ‘Are they carrying anything?’

  ‘Can’t see too well, sir. Just let me get my binoculars on them. Mmmm. Yes. Looks like one of them is carrying a small black book or parcel.’

  ‘Could it be a bla
ck tin deed box?’

  Crisp suddenly sounded animated. ‘Yes. A deed box,’ he said. ‘That could be the diamond, sir … and there’s Flora Carter just coming out of the bank. She’s walking between Gregg’s and the white van as if she was on a holiday stroll on Blackpool promenade.’

  Angel smiled. ‘Right, lad,’ he said.

  Then he ended the call, closed the phone, sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  SEVENTEEN

  It was about an hour later the same morning, that Angel remembered that he had not heard lately from his old friend Dr Mac, who might have some vital information, so he picked up the phone and tapped in the Bromersley General Hospital number and was eventually put through to the mortuary.

  The doctor’s familiar Glaswegian voice came on the line. ‘Good morning, Michael. Long time since I heard from you. Must be a whole week. I was beginning to think you’d come into money and retired to live in the Maldives.’

  ‘I won’t be able to do that – even if I wanted to – unless I could earn what a nerdy pathologist I know, who lives, breathes and dreams dead bodies, earns, and only considers humans in terms of what they might look like opened up on a slab.’

  ‘My, we are in a mood this morning, laddie. Let me see if I can cheer you up.’

  ‘You won’t cheer me up if you haven’t got answers, Mac,’ Angel said.

  ‘Well, what is it you want to know?’

  ‘The last I heard was that you thought that whoever murdered Nancy Quinn did it with a short-bladed knife, probably a common-or-garden steak knife.’

  ‘That’s right, Michael. There were twenty-eight separate stabbing wounds in her thorax, abdomen, pelvis and chest.’

  ‘And that it was probably committed during intercourse.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘So were you able to locate any semen for DNA purposes?’

  ‘No. Not in this case. I suspect the man was barren. That often goes along with being a psychotic patient. He needs finding and locking up, Michael, and quickly.’

  Angel blew out a length of air. ‘Couldn’t agree with you more, but I need evidence, Mac. And you’re not helping.’