Blazing Obsession

by Dai Henley

  ‘Colin, it’s me. What the fuck’s going on? Just got a text from Johnson. I’m not happy about it. How the bloody hell did he get my number? I hope that for your sake you didn’t give it to him. Call me, pronto.’

  I called RP immediately and read the message to him. Then I said, “Hartley sounds rattled.”

  “Good. Tell Alisha to persuade Johnson to send another text. Keep the pressure on. This time give Hartley an ultimatum; either come up with the readies in twenty-four hours or he’ll hand over to the police the written statement confirming Hartley’s involvement in the arson attack. See what that brings.”

  I called Alisha and relayed RP’s idea. “OK. I’m seeing Johnson tonight. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  She called the next morning. “He didn’t need much persuading. He sent the second text last night. Johnson’s liking being in charge of the situation. He’s convinced Hartley’ll cough up. He’s promised me a huge diamond ring when he gets the money.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said.

  I decided to visit Greenland that afternoon. RP had already given me his address, which was a first floor flat above a shopping precinct in Abbey Street, Bermondsey. He thought afternoons would be a good time to find him home.

  I loitered outside the shops for a good hour, checking that he didn’t have visitors.

  Greenland’s mobile bleeped several times, indicating messages, which were all from Hartley.

  The last highlighted his level of frustration.

  ‘Colin. I’m getting really pissed off. Why the fuck aren’t you returning my calls? I need you to call me back urgently.’

  The entrance to Greenland’s flat was via a stairway at the rear of the precinct where all the wheelie bins from the shops laid strewn about haphazardly. I rang the bell, aware of the pungent smell from the decaying fruit dumped by the greengrocer, combined with the spicy odour of an Indian restaurant.

  Greenland opened the door only wide enough to see my face. Before he had time to register what was happening, I thrust my shoulder hard at the door, taking him completely by surprise. Despite being over six feet tall, he almost lost his balance. I stepped inside the cramped, cluttered room. A barely audible ancient flickering telly in the corner lit up the gloom. The drab curtains were fully drawn. Peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpets completed the sense of decay.

  He wore a pair of grey sweat pants, trainers and a grubby white T-shirt with a picture of Che Guevara on it. I flashed my open wallet at him containing something, which appeared surprisingly like a police warrant but was my health club membership card. He only had time to snatch a glance at it before I returned it to my pocket. I said, “I’m investigating an arson attack which we believe John Hartley instigated. You know him, don’t you?”

  “No. Never ’eard of ’im. Now piss off!”

  I held up Greenland’s mobile close to his face, pointed at Hartley’s name in the list of contacts and played his latest message.

  “Where the fuck did you get ’old of that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I also have a record of your prison visits to Hartley. So don’t fuck me about. Let’s sit down and discuss, shall we?”

  He did. I expected him to be violent. If it got rough, I hoped my martial arts training would literally kick in.

  RP had explained to me how powerful initial aggressive behaviour could be. “It disorients the victim,” he’d said. “Gives you a head start.”

  In truth, Greenland turned out to be a pussycat.

  “Who are you? What d’ya want from me?” His eyes revealed panic.

  We sat down on opposite sides of a low coffee table covered with a jumble of crumpled newspapers, magazines and empty beer bottles. The remains of a takeaway lay perilously on top of the heap.

  “I’ll tell you what I want soon enough. Listen to this first.”

  On my Dictaphone, I played him a copy of the conversation Alisha had recorded when Johnson admitted Greenland had set up the meeting with Hartley, resulting in the arson attack. His jaw dropped open.

  “Unless you tell me everything you know about Hartley’s involvement, I’ll hand your mobile and this tape to the police. I’m sure you’d agree they’d have a strong case for charging you with being an accessory to murder.”

  He trembled at the word murder.

  “So you’re not the filth?”

  “Let’s say I’m helping them with their enquiries. Once I’m satisfied with your answers you can have your mobile back.” He sighed with relief.

  “OK. How do you know Hartley?”

  “We became mates after being banged up on remand. ’E kept going on and on about ’is affair with someone from work called Lynne. ’E couldn’t stop talking about ’er. ’E learnt about ’er having a baby and got ’imself wound up about being sent to prison four or five months before she was due. ’E was convinced it was ’is. ’E said she’d met another geezer and the thought of them bringing up ’is kid drove ’im nuts.”

  Certain I hadn’t heard correctly, I asked him to repeat what he’d said. He did. I wanted to yell at him, ‘That’s fucking ridiculous!’

  “Let’s get this absolutely clear. You’re telling me Hartley believed he was the baby’s father?”

  “Yeah, that’s what ’e told me. ’Artley went mental every time ’e thought she was going to marry this prick. An’ he couldn’t do nuffin’ about it.”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  “I’m not. That’s the truth. ’E told me that before being banged up, ’e wanted to go abroad with ’em, start a new life together. Said ’e ’ad plenty of dosh stashed away.”

  I wanted to smash my fist in his face, but I needed more information.

  I recovered enough composure to ask, “Why did you visit him in Belmarsh after you were released?”

  “I told you. We became mates. ’E wanted to know everything about ’er. ’E paid me well enough. ’E asked me to tell ’im, you know, where she moved to, where she went at weekends, that sorta stuff.”

  “What happened on Hartley’s release from prison?”

  “’E told me ’e’d stalked ’er in Blackheath and ‘accidentally’ bumped into to ’er when she was walking with the kid in the buggy.”

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure I could take any more revelations.

  “’E said they ’ad a slanging match in the street. Apparently, she made it clear she didn’t want nuffin’ to do wiv ’im. She really wound ’im up by saying the baby wasn’t ’is and ’e should get lost.”

  “Then what?”

  “’Told me ’e’d followed ’er and ‘loverboy’ down to Lymington on the souf coast. I’d found out the address. They went down most weekends in the summer. So did ’e. ’E was so wrapped wiv ’er. ”

  I recalled, on the weekend before the arson attack, seeing movement in the cottage garden when I locked up at night. I shivered at the thought that Hartley had been yards away from my family.

  “How come you got hooked up with Leroy Johnson?”

  “I don’t wanna say any more. I dunno who you are, but if ’Artley knows I‘ve told anyone about ’is love life, ’e’ll go bloody bananas.”

  I stood, reached over and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling him out of his chair. I drew his face as close to mine as I could. Putting on my most aggressive expression, I snarled, “I’ll go bloody bananas if you don’t tell me everything!”

  His eyes gave away his fear again. “OK. OK.” I released him and he slumped back down into the chair.

  “’Artley asked if I wanted to earn a big ‘wedge’. ’E wanted me to set fire to the cottage. Wipe ’em all out. I told ’im, it wasn’t my bag, but I knew a geezer who’d do it if the price were right.”

  “And who’s that?”

  “It’s no secret. It was splashed all over the papers. Leroy Johnson.”

  More questions filled my head. But one thing became clear; Nick Burrows wasn’t responsible for the arson attack.

  I gave Greenland back his mobile after deleting Hartl
ey’s messages and texts, as advised by RP. He’d already taken copies. I told Greenland I had no use for it anymore. I didn’t tell him one of RP’s techies had installed a clever piece of software on it which would hack into his calls and messages. Every time he used the mobile from now on, RP’s team would get a text or could listen in and record the conversation. The wonders of digital telephony.

  “It’s very new, not perfect, and possibly illegal, but bloody useful,” he said. Was there anything RP couldn’t fix?

  I left Greenland’s flat with my mind in a whirl. I urgently wanted to speak to RP and Alisha. I called them and arranged to meet later that evening. Alisha said she could get away from Johnson for a few hours. He went out most evenings peddling dope, but after the scene with her and Greenland, he’d become much more inquisitive about her movements.

  *

  RP’s office appeared even more striking at night. The lighting provided by the multi-coloured glass chandeliers and exotic wall lights were more in keeping with a London club; he had an aversion to the fluorescent strip lights found in most of London’s offices. He’d organised a Chinese meal, which arrived shortly after we did.

  I’d lost my appetite and picked at the food, but as RP and Alisha chomped their way through chop suey and crispy duck, and drank chilled bottled beer from the fridge behind RP’s large desk, I explained what happened at my meeting with Greenland.

  When I’d finished, a stunned silence ensued, before Alisha said, “I had no idea John Hartley believed the baby to be his. If Lynne knew, she kept that to herself.”

  “Good work, James. Welcome to the detectives’ club. So now we know.” RP stared at both of us in turn.

  I slumped back in my chair and said, “I still can’t believe any of this.”

  Alisha gazed down at the ground and, shaking her head, said, “I had absolutely no idea Hartley would go that far. He’s a lunatic!”

  Slamming my fist down of the desk, I said, “I can’t get out of my head that it appears that whilst Lynne carried my child she was still seeing Hartley?”

  Alisha put her hand on my arm and said, “It wasn’t what you think, James. She tried everything she could think of to get out of the relationship. He terrified her. She grew afraid of what he’d do if she ended it. He threatened to tell Nick.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Alisha continued.

  “It brought matters to a head when you appeared on the scene. You made all the difference to her. But it took her a long time to accept that you loved her so much; she doubted her ability to ever be happy with a man. I know that in the end she truly loved you.”

  I wanted to believe her, but Hartley’s claim had rocked me. I couldn’t think straight.

  RP broke the silence.

  “There’s something else you both need to know. The spyware on Greenland’s mobile worked a treat.”

  He retrieved his mobile from his jacket pocket, laid it on the desk, and stabbed a couple of keys. “Listen to this conversation between Greenland and Hartley after you’d left him.”

  Hartley: Where the bloody hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days.

  Greenland: What d’ ya mean? I’ve been around.

  Hartley: Yeah? So why didn’t you return my texts?

  Greenland: What texts?

  Hartley: You know what a text is, bonehead! I sent you several in the last few days. All bloody urgent.

  Greenland: Didn’t get ’em. What did you want?

  Hartley: I wanted to know how Leroy Johnson got my mobile number. He’s trying to blackmail me over that arson business. Did you give it to him?

  Greenland: No, of course not. I know ’ow you feel about ’im.

  Hartley: This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

  Greenland: I think I know ’ow Johnson got your number. I mislaid my mobile for a while. Got it back now.

  Hartley: I worked that out all by myself.

  Greenland: Johnson’s got a new bit of totty. Met ’er a few times. She’s been asking a few questions. She may ’ave nicked my mobile. Possible she’s gone through my contacts an’ told Johnson. ’Ad a geezer round my place asking questions.

  Hartley: What geezer? What did you tell him?

  Greenland: A sort of private dick, not the filth. I told ’im nuffin’. Whatdya take me for?

  Hartley: What’s this woman’s name?

  Greenland: Er… Alisha, yeah, that’s right… Alisha. She spends a lotta time with that waste of space.

  Hartley: Oh, great! Alisha? That’s all I need! Call me if you hear anything.

  “That’s it,” said RP, leaning over and turning off his mobile. “Now Hartley knows you’re involved, Alisha. He’s probably already worked out that you are too, James. Obviously, this puts you both at risk.”

  Alisha, for the first time since I’d met her, appeared concerned. She looked at me first, then RP and said, “Now what do we do?”

  “Well, it’s pretty obvious now, that Hartley and Johnson were responsible, isn’t it? Clearly, Greenland had a role in it too.”

  “I should have sorted him out when I had the chance!” I spat out.

  “No, you did well. We may need him,” RP said.

  He continued, “We could consider going to the police with this evidence. Trouble is, the court possibly won’t admit much of it. We know all about that don’t we? And even if the police did get a result against Hartley, Johnson remains free. And he can’t be tried again.”

  RP had struck a raw nerve. I couldn’t bear the thought of Johnson still being at large.

  “That can’t be allowed,” I said, shaking my head.

  RP, stroking his chin yet again, said, “Listen, I’ve got a plan to deal with Hartley and Johnson.”

  I said, “Aren’t things a bit more complicated now? Hartley knows Alisha’s directly involved.” I turned to her and said, “Will he remember you as Lynne’s friend?”

  “Oh, he will. You know me. As I told you, I wasn’t backward in coming forward. He knows I didn’t approve of him.”

  I said, “Look, you’ve done your bit, Alisha. Leave this to Roger and me now.”

  She glared at me. “Absolutely not! I’ve come this far. Lynne meant a lot to me too, you know. I don’t care about myself. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Tell us your ideas, Roger.”

  *

  We left RP’s office at midnight. I didn’t feel like going straight home. I persuaded Alisha to stop off at a bustling late night bar in Piccadilly.

  Alisha stressed what I’d meant to Lynne.

  “You know, I don’t think I’d ever seen her happier than when you two got married. She loved you so much. Proud of you too; you’d been through loads of stuff together.”

  “I know, I know. And I loved her too. But I just can’t get out of my mind Hartley’s claim to being Emily’s father.” She leant forward and held my hand.

  “Yes, but you were there at her birth. And you brought Emily up from the start. You saw her every day of her short life. You were a real father to her. Hartley played no part in that whatsoever, even if his claim is true, which I don’t believe, incidentally.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I suppose.” My eyes welled up. I fought to contain my tears. I presumed I’d always feel like this whenever I thought of Emily.

  “I’m missing them terribly…”

  We both fell silent for a few moments, the vacuum filled by the sounds of bubbly conversations competing with ubiquitous background music.

  Alisha placed her face closer to mine, ensuring I could hear her.

  “Lynne always told me how kind you were, not just to her but other people. Something she didn’t expect from a high-powered businessman.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, didn’t you once pay for an airplane ticket for a stranger? A waitress you’d only just met who needed to visit the dying grandfather who’d brought her up. Where was it… Spain?”

  “Yes, but…”

&n
bsp; “And she told me you once bought a specially adapted van for a badly disabled guy so that his carer could drive him around. He hadn’t left home for three years.”

  “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me. That’s all Lynne’s influence.”

  “Well, she loved you for it.”

  I changed the subject.

  “What do you think of Roger’s ideas?”

  “Very good. Total professional, isn’t he? We’re doing the decent thing, James. Bloody legal system’s kaput. This is the only way to get things sorted.”

  She took a sip of her wine and said, “I’ll text Johnson and arrange to meet up. I’ll let you know how I get on.”

  “Please be careful, Alisha. If Greenland’s told Johnson about you ‘borrowing’ his mobile, you’re in big trouble.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  October 1999

  In the darkness of the early hours of the next morning, sitting at home clutching a can of beer, I analysed Greenland’s information.

  The thought of Hartley being Lynne’s lover before I came on the scene and the repellent claim that he was Emily’s father made me physically sick. I didn’t know which was worse – the thought of Lynne fucking him, or Emily being the result. Either notion made me want to retch.

  Other thoughts troubled me. Did Nick Burrows know about Lynne’s affair with Hartley? It’s possible that Georgie may have let something slip. Nick would have been incandescent with rage, adding impetus to Georgie’s abduction.

  And I couldn’t understand why Lynne, my beautiful Lynne, who could have had anybody she wanted, put up with such arseholes as Burrows and Hartley. They destroyed her.

  She’d told me she always felt the need for a man in her life – any man. Having a father and stepfather fail her when she was so young led to her insecurity and lack of self-worth.

  We discussed it many times. It was a big issue for her, but I always told her my role in her life was to compensate for them.

  I fantasised about how our lives would have turned out if I’d met her first. We’d have brought out the best in each other. We’d have been a perfect match.

  However, the trouble with fantasies is that they don’t last. Inevitably, reality kicks in, and when it did, I became inconsolable.