Blazing Obsession

by Dai Henley

  But given the circumstances of our first encounter, I felt I needed a back up plan in case he still didn’t accept me being on the scene. I hoped I could use something in his past.

  I called Tom Riley, my golf partner, who worked for a firm of lawyers specialising in criminal matters.

  “Good of you to spend some time calling your old mate. Bet you couldn’t drag yourself away from… er… what was her name? Lynne?”

  “Yes. Actually, you could make yourself useful for once. I need a criminal check on someone. Can you help?”

  “Sure. I’ve got my contacts. Give me the details.” I told him all I knew about Nick Burrows and he promised to get back to me as soon as possible.

  Two days later he called me. “Did you know there’s a court order restraining him from harassing a certain Lynne Burrows?”

  “Yes, I know. It’s not working. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a criminal record; charged with affray in a pub three years ago and fined. There’s a suspicion of drug dealing but the police don’t have enough evidence to pin anything on him. I assume his ex is the same lovely Lynne who works for you?”

  “Yes, he’s still giving her a rough time. I’m hoping to find out something I could use to get him to back off.”

  “If you’re serious about this I can put you in touch with a contact of mine. He’s got a personal surveillance business. It’s a bit cloak and dagger, and bloody expensive, but he always delivers. We don’t ask too many questions. A round-the-clock watch for a couple of weeks might throw up something.”

  “Thanks, Tom. You’re a pal.”

  He gave me the number, which I called immediately and set up a meeting in my office on the first available day we were both free.

  *

  Roger Pendleton wasn’t what I imagined. I had in mind someone wearing a dirty grey crumpled mackintosh, a trilby and several days’ growth of beard.

  Instead, a fit-looking fifty-year-old, over six feet tall with a military bearing sat opposite me in my office. He looked more like a hospital registrar with a smart navy suit, sober striped tie and polished shoes.

  “I love these BMWs,” he said, wistfully staring out of my office into the showroom.

  We engaged in small talk about the cars he’d owned. That’s what I loved about my business. Everyone had a view about cars, the ones they loved and the ones they hated.

  He produced a brochure which included an impressive CV. He used to be a senior officer in the Special Investigation Branch. His speciality was technical surveillance. He’d also reached the rank of Detective Inspector in the Metropolitan Police and spent a year on secondment working with the LAPD in Los Angeles, advising them on security matters. He said people usually referred to him as RP. It fitted.

  He made notes as I explained that I wanted to get Burrows to stop harassing Lynne. I pointed out that what he’d hate most was losing contact with his son, Georgie. I passed on the information Tom had given me.

  He studied his notes intently. “I’ll try to find out what the police concerns are. I’ll get a photo sent to me, too. I suggest we keep him under our noses for the next couple of weeks. See what that brings.”

  “Sounds OK.” After negotiating the costs – Tom was correct, they weren’t cheap – we agreed a date for the follow-up meeting. I felt optimistic and excited about what he might discover.

  I’m always happiest when I have an action plan.

  *

  I called Lynne the day after the confrontation with Nick, keen to assess her state of mind.

  “How are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Still can’t believe you were fighting over me. Alisha says it’s one of the best things to have happened to me for ages – ‘bit of a turning point’, she said, Nick getting his come-uppance. She’s so impressed by how you handled the situation. Actually, so am I.”

  “And what about Nick? Has he spoken to you?”

  “Yes. He came to collect Georgie this morning for his weekend visit. He’s hugely embarrassed by what happened. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. Mind you, he called you a ‘tosser’ again and threatened to sort you out if you ever took his place in Georgie’s affections.”

  “You know I’d never do that. Nick’ll always be his dad. That won’t change. Anyway, I’ve had an idea. I’ve decided to meet up with him soon, man to man, let him know what I think. I’m sure I can convince him I’m not a threat.”

  “Are you sure it’s wise? I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.”

  “It’s the only way, Lynne.”

  “The only reason he’ll see you is to beat you up. He’s so hot-headed.”

  “Well, give me his number. At least let me try.”

  Reluctantly she gave it to me and said, “Are you sure you still want to be involved with us after all this?”

  “Of course I do.”

  She must have been convinced because she invited me to Christmas Day lunch in three weeks’ time. She wanted me to meet Georgie and her mother, Margaret.

  I felt a huge surge of relief. After witnessing the brawl, I thought she’d never want to see me again.

  *

  Two weeks later, Pat buzzed me in my office. “Roger Pendleton’s here to see you. Shall I bring him through?”

  We shook hands and he made himself comfortable at my desk. Pat brought in a pot of coffee.

  RP said, “I’ve got something interesting to show you. Do you have a videocassette player? Meant to ask when I called.”

  “Of course,” I said, as I walked over to the corner of my office, and slid back a polished beech panel revealing the equipment. He passed me a video tape. I switched on the TV, placed the tape in the player and clicked ‘Play’ on the remote.

  RP said, “I know the pictures aren’t great but let me talk you through what we’ve found. One of my guys videoed this scene outside a nightclub in the West End last week.”

  A dark, murky rain-splattered picture partially relieved by bright streetlights and neon signs flickered onto the screen. The first shots, taken from a distance, zoomed in every few seconds highlighting two men wearing dark jackets and trousers talking earnestly to each other whilst frequently looking over their shoulders.

  “Keep watching. In a second, you’ll see Burrows and the other man exchanging a packet. We’ve got a good shot of that. There… did you see it?”

  “No. It’s so dark.”

  “Give me the remote and I’ll replay it and freeze it at the best shot.” I passed it over.

  “There! That’s it. Can you confirm one of the men is Nick Burrows? You need to be sure.”

  “Well, I’ve only met him once, but it was memorable.” I peered into the screen, my eyes narrowing, trying to focus on the shadowy figure. “Yes, that’s definitely him. But he could be handing over a Christmas present for all we know.”

  “You’re right, of course. That’s why we followed Burrows’ associate. We wanted to get a better picture of him on camera too. Then I planned to use my contacts to identify him. If he had a criminal record, especially in drug dealing, we’d be getting somewhere.”

  “Well?”

  “I can’t tell you how I got the info, but yes, he has done time for dealing in ecstasy tablets and other Class A drugs. His name’s Frankie Richards. He’s been a minor crook and ne’er do well ever since wearing long trousers. We’re not sure where he is in the gang’s pecking order, but it’s highly probable his source is Burrows.”

  I let out a low whistle.

  RP continued, “I think this may be enough to put the frighteners on Burrows if you have to. Show him a copy of the stills from the tape and he’ll know you’re onto him.”

  “Look, all I want is to get him to back off. I don’t want him put away. I think he should still be able to see his son. When the boy’s older he can make up his own mind.”

  Stroking his chin, RP said, “Well, when you meet him, point out just the suspicion of drug dealing in addition to his harassment charge
s would force the courts to reconsider his continuing contact with the kid. That’s the key to getting what you want, I’d say.”

  Nodding, I said, “OK, I like the idea. Let’s see if it works. How soon can you get the stills to me?”

  “Oh, in the next couple of days. I’ll bring them to your office. Would you feel happier if I came with you to see Burrows?” Feeling I could handle the meeting myself, I declined his offer.

  Good to know he’d help if things turned nasty though.

  *

  By the third week of December, the Christmas shopping craziness reached its climax. London’s lights blazed in the West End and Canary Wharf, Christmas tree lights twinkled in hundreds of offices and their windows sparkled with fluorescent Santa Claus figures and cotton-wool snowflakes.

  I’d never understood the amount of stressful effort the whole country made at this time of the year; buying presents for loved ones who didn’t want or need them and stocking up provisions which could support a three-month siege. And for just two days’ gorging.

  My parents’ death in a car crash happened on 12th of December twenty years ago.

  I’d wanted to cancel Christmas ever since.

  But this time, I looked forward to Christmas lunch with Lynne’s family.

  On the big day, I took two bouquets, one each for Lynne and her mother. They gushed like schoolgirls as I handed them over. I could see where Lynne got her good looks. Margaret would win any Glamorous Grandmother competition. Her skin glowed and her blonde hair, although fading into shades of grey, framed similar chiselled features.

  Fussing around me like a small terrier, she made sure the food and wine was perfect. She reminded me of my mother.

  Following a sumptuous roast turkey with all the trimmings, we enjoyed pulling crackers and laughing at the corny jokes.

  Georgie and I worked on assembling a Lego racing car I’d bought him as a present. Lynne had tipped me off that it would be well received. It proved a good way to get to know him. He was bright and chatty and smiled a lot. We got on well.

  Thoughts of Nick were put on the backburner, at least for this special day.

  *

  I knew getting a meeting with Nick wouldn’t be easy. And I could only guess what he’d do when I told him I knew about his drug dealing. I planned to meet him in a public place for obvious reasons. I wasn’t up to being ambushed by him and possibly ‘Baldy’.

  RP brought over the best stills from the video tape on the morning of New Year’s Eve. I called Nick later that day.

  I didn’t want to give too much away on the phone. I always preferred face-to-face situations. I gave a lot of thought about where to meet him. I chose the Pavilion Tea House in Greenwich Park, by the Royal Observatory, which dominates the skyline high above the park. It would be particularly busy over the New Year’s holiday.

  “It’s James Hamilton.” I waited for a response. Eventually it came.

  “What d’ ya want?” His monotone voice appeared disinterested.

  “I’d like to meet up to discuss our situation… like grown-ups.”

  “We’ve met, haven’t we?”

  “We have, but we didn’t achieve much did we? I only want to chat with you.”

  “About what? I don’t need anything from you. Just keep away from Lynne and Georgie. We’re going to be together again soon.”

  “Er… I don’t think so. Look, I don’t want to say too much on the phone but I’ve got some information which will interest you.”

  “What information?”

  “I’ll tell you in person.”

  After a short silence, he hung up on me.

  I hadn’t expected this. He left me little choice but to play my ace card. I didn’t feel especially good about it.

  I left it for an hour and rang him back. I got his message service.

  “I know all about your business relationship with Frankie Richards. Unless you meet me tomorrow, I’ll pass over the information I have to the local police and remind them of your restraining order and your record of harassment. It’s up to you.”

  I left him the address of the Pavilion Tea House and suggested we meet at 11am, New Year’s Day.

  “If you don’t show, fine. Just think about your ongoing relationship with Georgie.”

  *

  The new year, 1996, dawned mild and sunny. I got to the Pavilion Tea House so early it hadn’t yet opened.

  I’d spent New Year’s Eve quietly at Lynne’s apartment, watching TV with her and Georgie. I’d hardly drunk anything. A throbbing hangover would be the last thing I wanted to endure in the meeting, assuming Nick turned up. I left Lynne’s apartment shortly after midnight. I told her about meeting Nick the next day.

  “I bet he doesn’t even turn up. If he does, good luck, you’ll need it.”

  I walked around the park for an hour rehearsing my approach. Several joggers and cyclists were already into the first hours of their New Year resolutions. Mine was clear. I wanted to be with Lynne and Georgie without being hassled by Nick.

  The cafe opened at 10.30 and as the first customer, I chose a seat at ground level close by the entrance. I had a good outside view through the floor to ceiling windows. By 11, the cafe was half-full. Every time someone entered, I looked up expectantly. I didn’t know what to do if he didn’t show. I had a vague idea of contacting RP to ask him what should be my next move.

  Around 11.15, as I thought about making the call, Nick appeared at the entrance, a scowl creasing his face. Holding the door open before entering, he scanned the tables before spotting me. He flicked a still-lit cigarette end out into the courtyard, ambled over and flopped into the seat opposite. I offered a handshake, which he declined.

  “You said you had some information for me.” He thrust his hands into his pockets, leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

  “Don’t you want a cup of coffee or something?” I said.

  “No. Not with you.”

  “Please yourself. You know Lynne and I are in a serious relationship. We hope to be living together soon. I appreciate you wanting to continue seeing Georgie – that’s fine. But I don’t want you hassling Lynne… or me. You’ve got to realise it’s over between you and her.”

  “Who the bloody hell do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do or how to live my life. I’ll do what I want.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll take my information to the local police station. Which means you’ll possibly not be allowed to see Georgie. That’s why I can tell you what to do.”

  Taking his hands out of his pockets and clasping them together on top of the table, he leaned forward and said, “I don’t believe you’ve got anything on me. You’re bluffing.”

  Slowly and deliberately, I laid the three most incriminating stills from the video tape on the table.

  “Here, you can have these with my compliments.”

  He picked them up one by one and stared at them intently. I studied his reaction. Surprise and disbelief.

  Compounding his discomfort, I added, “These stills are from a video tape of your meeting with Frankie Richards. I’ve got a file on him too. He’s got an interesting past, hasn’t he? I think the police would want to know why you’re in contact with a convicted drug dealer outside a night club.”

  A lengthy silence followed whilst Nick kept shuffling the photos and staring at them continually, not believing what he saw or heard.

  Finally, he looked at me and said, “You bastard!”

  “I’d be more of a bastard if I went straight to the cops without giving you a chance to maintain contact with Georgie, wouldn’t I? Look, I didn’t want to resort to this but you’ve forced me to. Why can’t you stop harassing Lynne? I’d be happy for you to see Georgie as often as you wanted.”

  He spat out the words, “You tosser! I’ve told you. I’m going to get back with them.”

  “Not a chance. It’s never going to happen. Anyway, that’s my proposition. I think I’ve been very fair.”

  He stared
out of the window before standing up. Turning back to me, he said, “I’ll see,” as he walked towards the door leaving the photos on the table.

  I ordered another coffee and reflected on the conversation. It had gone as well as I could have hoped. I reasoned he’d never say, “OK, you win” so his, “I’ll see” I considered a result.

  *

  Meeting Lynne later at her apartment, I told her about the meeting.

  “What? He actually turned up?”

  I explained that, because of our chat, I believed he wouldn’t harass her anymore. I implied I’d made an emotional appeal to him; for Georgie’s sake, he ought to let us get on with our lives. She remained unconvinced.

  I decided not to tell her about Nick’s sideline. Not yet, anyway. She’d have been mortified to think Georgie could be exposed to knowing about his father dealing in drugs.

  “He’s a devious so and so. I can’t believe Nick would agree to anything proposed by you. I’m utterly amazed.”

  “I can be quite persuasive, you know.”

  Squeezing her hand, I said, “Let’s carry on as we are for a few months… see how things pan out with you, Georgie and me? Oh, and you must let me know how Nick behaves. It’s important to tell me if he’s still bad news. OK?”

  “I don’t appear to have much say in the matter, do I? You’re so persistent!” She smiled and leant towards me, nuzzling her face into my neck.

  It felt good.

  CHAPTER THREE

  February – April 1996

  Every time we met, now three or four times a week, I asked Lynne whether she’d had any trouble whenever Nick contacted them or when he collected Georgie every other weekend.

  “I can’t believe it. He’s not as aggressive as he used to be about who I’m seeing. He still makes sarcastic comments about my family and friends, but I can handle that.”

  “Good. Pleased to hear it.”

  We often chatted about the business.