Death Warmed Up

by John Paxton Sheriff

  At breakfast we all agreed that there was nothing more we could do until Charlie heard something concrete from Tony Ramirez and came through with time, date and location for the big sale. Then, dishes washed and house all tidy, we trotted down the wooden steps and enjoyed a long, sunny walk down the steep slopes from the bungalow into town.

  We left Sian at the Copacabana where her friend, dark-haired Rosa, was sitting smiling a welcome at an outside table. From there we continued on down Main Street with no particular destination in mind, and encountered Romero outside the bank. After handshakes all round and a brief moment of indecision, we cut through Tuckey’s Lane to Irish town and Sacarello’s coffee shop, found a vacant table on the lower floor and ordered coffee and rolls.

  ‘So,’ Romero said, eyeing me critically as we all sat back, rolls finished and our second cups of coffee in front of us, ‘what did Charlie Wise have to say to you?’

  I looked at Calum. No help there. He’d breathed into his coffee cup when drinking, and was fully occupied wiping his misted glasses.

  ‘Go on, Luis, how did you find out?’ I said. ‘Was it yet another anonymous phone call?’

  ‘Much simpler than that. Charlie and Adele were logged crossing over from Spain. It was quite easy to discover that they had rented an apartment in Catalan Bay, and one of my men was watching the house.’

  ‘Expecting what?’

  ‘Not your arrival, that’s for sure,’ Romero said. ‘And you haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘According to Charlie, it was Karl Creeny who killed the man at the airport and has the diamonds. Over in La Línea a man called Tony Ramirez is arranging their sale. Charlie will inform me when he knows more.’

  ‘It was Creeny who planned the theft of the diamonds in the first place, so it was quite clear he would not let them go without one hell of a fight,’ Romero said bluntly. ‘But Ramirez introduces a new twist, and is certainly a name to conjure with.’

  ‘Conjure with …’ Calum rolled the words, nodded approval. ‘Such words from an officer of the law warn me that this Ramirez is a character always up to tricks, most of them dirty, and a very slippery customer well able to wriggle his way out of trouble.’

  ‘If he was in America,’ Romero said, ‘they’d say he was “lawyered up”.’

  ‘Not helpful.’

  ‘All it takes when Ramirez is pulled in is one phone call to the abogado he retains, and we’re stymied.’

  ‘So are you going to approach him?’ I said. ‘Bring him in for questioning?’

  ‘He’s on Spanish soil, so out of my reach. Besides, it would be stupid. All I have are vague suspicions based on the word of a man like Charlie Wise.’

  ‘Right, so all we can do is wait for Charlie to phone?’

  ‘We have no choice.’ Romero shrugged. ‘And then we must trust Ramirez to give Charlie the right information, and Charlie to pass it to you without altering it to his advantage.’

  Romero smiled, and pushed his empty cup away while watching my consternation as that statement sank in. ‘And there is another possibility,’ he said, ‘which you may not have considered: is Charlie perhaps a clever little Scouse double agent, also communicating with other people, giving them information relating to the movement of those diamonds that is very similar to what he has told you, but different in its essentials?’

  ‘Other people?’ I stared. ‘Are you telling me your man watched us leave the apartment then walked in on Charlie, and Charlie’s been talking to you? You knew about Creeny, and Ramirez?’

  But Romero was away from the table and already leaving. A smile still lurked on his lean features, but there was no humour in his hard blue eyes when he stopped at the foot of the steps and looked back.

  ‘I recall that when you left my office at the beginning of this affair, I suggested that when you returned to your farmhouse in Wales you would be well out of it. Nothing has changed the feeling I had then. So if you are staying to see this through to the end, then I advise you to take great care.’

  Ten o’clock that night. Twenty-four hours after the Catalan Bay meeting with Charlie Wise. Warm. Humid. The sun’s passing had left the sky an angry red away to the west. We were dim figures in its lingering afterglow, for we had not bothered switching on lights. In the bungalow’s gloom there was an air of … oppression, foreboding? – or was that just my state of mind, which left me describing the sunset as angry when on any other night it would have inspired poetry and turned my thoughts to romance?

  Perhaps it was, though nothing had happened after the surprise that came with early-morning coffee to further darken my mood.

  From Sacarello’s the day before, we’d made our way back to Main Street and so down to Casemates Square where we joined Sian and Rosa for a lunch that stretched well into that sunny afternoon and eliminated all thought of what had been discussed with Romero.

  With Rosa heading for home and husband – they lived very close to town – we gazed up at the Rock, soaring above us in brilliant late-afternoon sunshine, thought about the long steep walk back to the bungalow and at once headed for the taxis lined up on the down slope from Linewall Road.

  Once back home, the rest of the afternoon was passed in sleep. We were woken by Eleanor, who called in to check that we weren’t destroying her home. She stayed to cook dinner with Sian while I let Calum beat me at chess, then departed after a cosy time chatting with a warning to me that I mustn’t forget Reg when Charlie’s call came through.

  That casual reminder of the task we had set ourselves was an unwelcome jerk back to reality, because I’d spent the day blithely ignoring the fact that Luis Romero had knocked me sideways.

  Put at its simplest, the dapper DI had given us food for thought. Taken to extremes, he’d made us – me – feel like a uniformed constable plodding a foggy Victorian beat in heavy leather shoes while believing himself to be Sherlock Holmes. It took Sian to put into words what tactful Calum had taken as read but not cared to point out.

  ‘You either forget the whole idea of clearing up this affair and we go back to Wales, or you ignore everything said by Romero and wait for Charlie to phone.’

  ‘Yes, but I wonder what Charlie’s been saying to him?’

  Sian flashed a glance at Calum, and rolled her eyes.

  ‘Jack, that meeting this morning didn’t happen, okay?’

  Calum, sprawled at full length as always, seemed totally unconcerned.

  ‘Similar to what he’s told you, but different in its essentials, according to Romero,’ Calum said. ‘So, if it were me in Charlie’s position I’d be stating my terms, demanding guarantees from the local police that if the diamonds are recovered the whole of that reward’s going to end up in my pocket.’

  ‘You think that’s all it is? He hasn’t been passing on additional information?’

  ‘I have no bloody idea. In just the same way, I wasn’t present at the Catalan Bay meeting last night so I’m forced to take your word for what went on there, and—’

  ‘Now hang on a minute—’

  ‘—if I was beset by the same nagging doubts that have begun eating away at you I might well be imagining a poisonous alliance between you and that diplomatic dipstick—’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake.’

  ‘Exactly. Pure bloody nonsense. As is tormented conjecture about what one man might have said to another—’

  And then, of course, my mobile rang.

  ‘What time is it now?’

  I hung up the phone. They were watching me, indistinct shapes in the shadows draping the unlighted living room, listened to the dying echoes of a one-sided conversation that had told them nothing.

  Sian leaned sideways from her chair and switched on Eleanor’s red-shaded table lamp. We all blinked in the sudden glare. The clock on the wall by the oak bookcase answered my question: it was 10.30.

  ‘The sale,’ I said, ‘will take place at Eastern Beach. The south end.’

  ‘Close to Devil’s Tower Road,’ Sian said, noddin
g quickly, frowning. ‘Certainly not overlooked, and it’s a fast road in and out, though it can be blocked. Strange choice.’ She looked at the clock, back at my face. ‘What time?’

  ‘Eleven. Half an hour. We’re cutting it fine.’

  ‘You mean Charlie’s cut it fine,’ Calum said, already on his feet.

  ‘Phone Reg,’ Sian said.

  ‘There’s no time—’

  ‘Jack, you promised.’

  ‘All right, yes.’ I spun away, walked to the window, already keying my mother’s speed dial number. ‘You two, get … I don’t know, suitably dressed, find some lethal weapons— Yes, Eleanor, is Reg there?’

  ‘Oh, God, Jack, no, is it happening tonight?’

  ‘’Fraid so. Can you give him a shout?’

  ‘It’ll have to be a loud one; he’s fishing at Europa Point, he says night time’s the best—’

  ‘But he has got his mobile with him?’

  ‘I suppose—’

  ‘Okay, sorry for cutting you short but we need him now.’

  I clicked off, pressed the key for Reg, aware that the red table lamp was illuminating an empty room, my ears picking up the sound of hurried movements in distant rooms.

  ‘Reg,’ I said as the phone was answered, ‘we need you now, pronto, so if you can you get to the bungalow in, say, five minutes?’

  ‘Sorry, old boy, but that’s an impossibility. I climbed down the rocks near the lighthouse, walked a good way over pretty rough terrain to my favourite position, a ledge over the water. Getting back in a hurry would be a scramble, and we don’t want two broken legs.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid we’ll have to leave without you.’

  ‘Oh, sod, I thought you had me down as a vital addition to the team? Surely you can hang on for half an hour?’

  ‘Reg, I can’t even offer to pick you up at Europa, because isn’t there a road block there?’

  ‘Yes, road works of some kind, has been for days, but does that matter?’

  ‘Time matters. I’d need to come all the way back again because this is happening at Eastern Beach on the other side of the Rock.’

  ‘Nevertheless you need my professional expertise. Without that you could be in deep trouble.’

  ‘We’re in trouble anyway if we don’t get a move on; to be at the location in time we should have been on our way fifteen minutes ago.’

  I broke off as Sian and Calum emerged from the bedrooms, looking like members of an SAS team dressed for night action.

  ‘Reg, I’ll come and talk to you later, give you a blow-by-blow account.’

  I clicked off, silencing his loud protests, pocketed the phone.

  ‘Black T-shirts, black jeans, black trainers … won’t that make you two a mite conspicuous on a moonlit Mediterranean beach?’

  ‘I was yearning to wear that short yellow frock,’ Sian said, ‘but then I thought of launching into a ushiro mawashi geri and my modesty overcame my flair for fashion.’

  ‘I dumped the kilt and sporran idea for the same reason,’ Calum said.

  ‘And lethal weapons?’

  Sian grinned, showed me her hands, like hard blades, stretched out a foot. ‘Armed and dangerous. So come on, Jack, make it a fashion threesome. And on the drive down to Eastern Beach we can work out how black garb and our close-combat skills can help us overcome men carrying Glocks and Hecklers – and that’s just Clontarf and his buddy.’

  As I ran for the bedroom, Calum was raising the bar.

  ‘If it is a Russian oligarch doing the buying,’ I heard him say, ‘you can forget Rickman’s boys because at the very least we’ll be up against a couple of—’

  I shut the door, and my ears.

  Twenty-five

  The tension in the car was palpable. We were raring to go, eager for confrontation, for seeing – if there is such a thing – the end of the end game.

  Calum was sitting in the back, and through the mirror I could see his glasses glinting as he turned his head this way and that, ever watchful. Sian was beside me in the passenger seat. She’d brought a bottle of water with her, from which she took the occasional delicate sip. She offered it to me. I shook my head, and as we scooted along and I caught a glimpse of the car’s reflection in a shop window, I couldn’t resist a smile.

  We looked like three wannabe terrorists who’d searched high and low for a fast car to steal and made do with their granny’s Punto. One thing that could be said for it was that it wouldn’t attract attention. It was getting late on a warm evening; teenagers in cars better than ours cruised by with windows down and music blaring, and if those suntanned youngsters were looking forward to some action at Eastern Beach, it was the kind involving frothing cans of alcohol and some intimate contact with the opposite sex.

  As usual, Sian was reading my mind.

  ‘At this time of night there’ll be plenty of cars parked there,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t the choice of location strike you as odd?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Calum said, leaning forward with his hand on my shoulder. ‘This is Gibraltar, for God’s sake, and all that’s happening is one man is passing a small package to another guy. Hell, it could be done in broad daylight, on Main Street, and nobody would be any the wiser.’

  ‘Then choosing a beach location where the car they arrive in will be just one of many is good thinking,’ I said. ‘If they dress like tourists, or locals, they’ll be invisible.’

  Sian was nodding. ‘If you’re right, that creates another problem: they’ll be difficult to spot. Two blokes leaning against a car enjoying a smoke, eyeing the passing talent, and while doing that there’s a casual exchange of goods that goes unnoticed. And it’s not as if we’ll recognize them, because we won’t: we don’t know who’s buying or who’s selling. If Creeny really has got the diamonds and he’s going to be here, all we’ve got to go by is that picture Pru took, death warmed up on board Sea Wind; sitting down, so we’ve no idea how tall he is. And if it’s a Russian coughing up the cash, well, there was a time when they all looked like Khrushchev… .’

  While she was talking I’d approached the roundabout by Victoria Stadium and turned right into Devil’s Tower Road, which was a long straight run through a scattering of industrial buildings standing under the towering north face of the Rock. Once they thinned there was nothing but open ground, car parks, and the long stretch of Eastern Beach that ran north before being stopped dead by the eastern end of Gibraltar airport’s runway.

  ‘Charlie didn’t give us enough time to think this through,’ Calum said as I slowed. ‘Certainly not enough to come up with anything close to a Plan A.’

  ‘Too bloody true,’ I said. ‘We got the phone call, looked at the clock and the adrenaline rush blew us out the door. Now, common sense says this’ll be like looking for one particular strand of hay in a bloody big stack; tells me we should call it a night, go straight back and get out of these silly clothes.’

  I’d turned onto the beach road. A line of parked cars stretched away in the bright moonlight. Couples were strolling up and down the long road. Gaggles of youngsters in shorts were down on the wet sand, drinking from cans or splashing through the shallows with wild shrieks.

  ‘If we open the doors and get out looking like this,’ I said, ‘we’ll be mistaken for armed police on a drugs raid.’

  ‘If that means we need a Plan B,’ Sian said, ‘I suggest we phone Luis Romero, tell him what’s going on and leave him holding the ball. Then we can do what you suggest and toddle off home to bed.’

  ‘Mm, I don’t think even that’s necessary. Luis hinting that he was talking to Charlie means he may know more than us. It also removed any obligation on my part to keep him informed.’

  ‘Then the least we can do is cruise the length of the beach, very slowly, and see if we spot anything unusual. Nobody’ll take much notice of us if we stay in the car.’

  I’d drawn to a halt while Sian was talking. Now I pulled away again, and headed slowly down the straight stretch of beach road
. I accelerated up to a reckless ten miles an hour, flicking sideways glances at the cars parked on the left of the road.

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Gone eleven,’ Calum said. ‘Almost ten past.’

  ‘Well, as no suspicious cars were leaving when we got here—’

  ‘Suspicious?’ Sian giggled. ‘How can you tell a suspicious car from the ordinary kind?’

  ‘By its occupants.’

  ‘What, all dressed in black?’

  ‘We know what you’re getting at,’ Calum said, ‘and you’re absolutely right. No cars of any kind were on the way out, so I don’t think we got here too late.’

  ‘If they’re already here,’ Sian said, ‘they’re either sitting in one of these cars, or down by the water.’

  ‘Most, if not all of the cars, are empty,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Yes, and that’s a hell of a long beach; half a mile, more than that? Dammit, they could be anywhere, Jack.’

  I’d reached the airport runway end of the road. There was a turning area. I made use of it, began cruising back the way we’d come.

  ‘There’s nobody standing by any of these cars—’

  ‘Looking suspicious,’ Sian said, gurgling.

  I glanced to my left, across the wide, sandy beach. ‘If they’re down there by the water and I park and we get out, in this moonlight they’ll see us coming a mile off.’

  ‘Give it up, Jack,’ Calum said suddenly, and he slumped back in his seat. ‘You told Reg you’d talk to him later. Let’s do that. Give the cocky little feller a good laugh at our expense, and while we’re there we can console ourselves with a wee dram.’

  I had no argument to offer. It had been a wasted trip, and that surely wasn’t the end of the world. Yet as I took a last look at the beach, put my foot down and headed back towards Devil’s Tower Road and the looming Rock face, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that Charlie Wise had been playing us the way Reg Fitz-Norton, down on the rocks at Europa point, was learning to play fish.