Once Crown and Harraghy had disembarked the ferry, their plan was to hail a taxi for the short journey to Meadow Well metro station. The local train would then terminate a Newcastle Central, a short walk from the carpark. Crown and Harraghy would then join O’Brien at Kinver…
The PIRA members had been instructed that both vans containing the VBIEDs were ready for deployment, however, Harraghy’s experience told him that he’d need to double check both devices…The VBIED he would be transporting was required to be driven quite a distance, sixty miles, clearly he didn’t want the device detonating prematurely.
The original plan was for three vehicle borne devices, this had now been revised to two with the capture of MINY and MOE, O’Brien was now required to shadow Crown to assist in arming his device and transporting the pair away from it.
James McCauley would rendezvous with Harraghy at Corley Services situated between junctions 3 & 3A of the southbound carriageway of the M6 motorway. He would then shadow Harraghy to his destination.
The Catthorpe Interchange was a heavily used junction in the midlands; it was where the M6 terminates and begins as it seamlessly connected the M1 to the north west of England. It was also the starting point of the A14 as it too began its journey to the south east, terminating at Felixstowe, a major seaport along the coast from Dover… Catthorpe was crucial for the day to day transportation of goods across Britain, for their campaign it was perfect…
McCauley had instructions to return Harraghy to the Dutch safehouse via the port of Harwich. Interestingly O’Brien had received no instructions to do the same with Crown…
*****
Mark Ward had returned a little before 1900…I felt guilty in a way as after our briefing with the Prime Minister in the basement of No 10 Downing Street, assistance from Thames House was now inevitable. He had however managed to sit with three department heads and explain fully both incidents which occurred at the stables in Brasted and the safehouse in Romford, thoughtfully he had also briefed the three in on the operation in Germany, the subsequent capture of Dillon Garvie and the demise of Declan O’Hanlon. The latter was fast work on his part as clearly Belfast is their backyard and we had been trampling all over their newly laid turf, we didn’t want them sulking, on the other hand they were pleased that if things were to go awry it would be Compass in the firing line and not Box 500. He had also touched base with the Northern Irish office within the building, making sure the RUC were up to date too.
Mark agreed that if it was possible, reviewing the Motorway CCTV for the Heathrow junction might yield positive INTEL and would put it on the top of his “to do” list for the next morning…When he left I wandered over to Sarah’s office…
“Busy day”
“That’s a fact Chief…Translating the transcript of the German operation has me thinking more in German than English…”
She hesitated before continuing…
“Chief, are we ready…? If PIRA move tomorrow can we stop them…?”
I thought for a minute or two…I thought about Catlin, about Garvie and O’Hanlon plus the two in the basement of Paddington Green and I thought about Angela McQueen…
“When we began we had nothing, all this was nothing more than a political exercise…We had a flea pit office, a battered filing cabinet and no real clue of where to begin…It was being run by an unknown new boy an unsettled HUMINT officer and a semi-retired Field Officer…”
I sat on her sofa and continued…
“All because Norman watched a low profile POI enter a ferry port, three months ago, we now have state of the art equipment, a decent office and a seriously bright group of individuals who receive the full weight of cross service support…
We have saved a woman’s life, exposed arguably the biggest nationwide PIRA campaign this country has ever known, intercepted five VBIEDs and detained five, well six, terrorists…I don’t know if we’re ready Sarah but in three months we’ve gone from being totally in the dark to breathing down their necks…”
“When you put it in that context, we’re as ready as we can ever be…”
“Well, prepared is probably a more apt description…Where are we with the Dutch…?”
“They’ve deployed a team to Rotterdam, the AIVD will monitor arrivals and departures from the main railway stations and the air and sea ports. There is also a team at Ijmuiden but latest intelligence suggests they missed this evening,s departure to Newcastle due to the length of time it took the orders to come through…”
“Have we informed DFDS…? We could fax the three images to the ship…”
“We attempted to but the ship was too far out to receive the signals… They have been circulated to the ports…”
“Ok what else…?”
“They’ll spend the best part of the next four or five days snooping around the numerous marinas although they are prioritising the deep sea facilities. Lastly, of the four known players who have historically offered assistance to PIRA, only one is not around, they are checking all of his businesses and places he frequents as we speak…”
“What’s his name…?”
“Oh…Er…Koenraad Stegen…He owns brothels and strip clubs in and around Amsterdam. He may also be the owner of a large cannabis factory further north…”
“I see…Any chance he owns a large yacht or is that too good to be true…?”
“I honestly couldn’t say, there’s nothing in his file to indicate it…”
She had said this while flicking through the five sheets of A4 that the AIVD had faxed to us regarding Stegen…
“Sarah, ring them back and ask please…If he does, request a look see, pronto…”
Sarah lifted the telephone receiver, dialled the number then began speaking in fluent Dutch…
*****
Officers Peter Green and John Davis were sitting in an unmarked police car parked under a tree at the top end of Dale Street, Chiswick. The junction was an ideal location to watch the house on Glebe Street, which PIRA were using as a safehouse, and was home to Patrick Marward, Francis Riddell and James McCauley. The surveillance had begun to fall in to the trap of being a daily routine as the three occupants had been well behaved for more than twelve months…Or so it appeared…
There was however a subtle difference this evening: usually at this time, 2000, lights could be seen in the property, especially the external lamp adjacent to the front door which illuminated the small boundary wall and pavement. Tonight the house was in total darkness…
“Pete, has there been anything mentioned…? There wasn’t a thing in the despatches this morning…”
“No, nothing…I think the car’s gone too, there’s no vehicle outside the house and there is no Rover parked in the vicinity…”
“And I don’t think they’re in Waitrose… Call it in Pete and get them to send back up so we can have a bit of a mooch…”
“Oscar Charlie Control…” “Control Oscar Charlie…”
“Sanctuary is dark, repeat Sanctuary is dark…We are requesting back up to investigate further, over…”
“Roger, Oscar Charlie…Hold…”
After a minute or two the vehicles RT hissed into life again… “Control, Oscar Charlie…”
“Oscar Charlie…”
“Oscar November is en route to your location, ETA twelve minutes…”
“Roger Control…Out…”
“There’ll be hell to pay if they’ve buggered off and we’ve missed them Pete…”
“I doubt we have, eh hold on…Isn’t their car in the garage on the High Road getting serviced…?”
Officer Davis flicked through the op’ sheets… “Yes, yes it is, last Friday afternoon it went in…”
DC Peter Green was becoming inpatient; DC John Davis knew the signs-watching him drum his fingers on the steering wheel was definitely one of them…
“After we check the house John, we need to inform Inspector Case…”
“Pete…I have a feeling Control has already done so…I b
et Box and that new outfit Compass are being informed too…”
Marward and Riddell had walked to their local supermarket just after 1300 that afternoon. After purchasing supplies they had carried on to a pre-arranged bus stop and waited.
James McCauley had collected the two of them at 1400…Their plan had been to relocate the vehicle realistically to avoid suspicion, faking the garage service had been ideal…McCauley had left the property, again on foot at 1315 and walked to the garage, paid the bill, in cash of course, then driven to the rendezvous. Quick, simple and under the noses of Special Branch…
The officer’s log sheet which had been passed to Green and Davis had illustrated the target subject’s movements, however nothing had been actioned as this was deemed routine…
Now, six hours after the fact, both Riddell and Marward were at the Somerset farm awaiting the arrival of Morris, while McCauley had recently arrived at the Kinver dairy where Crown, Harraghy and O’Brien were expected the following morning…
SO12 officers Alan Jones and Andy Austin rolled their Vauxhall Astra silently to a halt behind the Ford Fiesta occupied by Green and Davis. All four now congregated on the pavement under the tree…
“How do you want to do this Pete…?
“Al, you and Andy take the side alleyway and come through the back door…John and I will take the front… John, fetch the double glazing bumf out of the back will you…?”
The two officers would act as window salesmen if there was the off chance of someone answering…
“Ok…We need to get a move on; they are waiting on us…”
The officers made their way across the main road, once in position officers Jones and Austin waited by the alleyway while Green and Davis approached the front door…Davis rang the doorbell… Nothing…The door was tried again with the same negative response… DC John Davis deposited the cover brochures on the doorstep then took up his position to shoulder charge the door…
DC Green removed his RT from his pocket… “This is Green… In you go lads…!”
Davis crashed through the front door in the same instant that Jones had through the rear… Once the house was searched in torchlight, top to bottom and front to back, DC Green turned the houselights on. This confirmed what they had already feared, the house was empty: the kitchen sink contained the remnants of burnt paper and a half eaten loaf of bread was on the worktop. These were the only indications that the house had, at some point, been occupied…
The four officers met in the kitchen and allowed the adrenalin to bleed off. Pete Green again reached for his RT:
“Right…I’ll call it in and get forensics over here…Have another butchers lads, you never know there maybe something in one of the bedrooms or whatever…Don’t yank any bath panels off…!”
“Oscar Charlie to control…” “Control Oscar Charlie…”
“Sanctuary is clear… Ajax, Troy and Solomon have cleared out… We need forensics over hear, over…”
“Roger Oscar Charlie…Wait for instruction, over…” “Roger control…out…”
DS Green began opening kitchen cupboards and draws. Wishfully hoping for something, anything that would indicate why the three would bolt now… His RT hissed…
“Control to Oscar Charlie one…” “Oscar Charlie one…”
“Instruction from Inspector Case as follows…Oscar Charlie one and two to meet him at Chiswick Auto Services, Chiswick High Road, over…”
“Roger Control…Oscar Charlie responding, out…” Green walked to the base of the stairs and shouted… “John…!”
“What is it…?”
“We have to meet the gaffer outside C.A.S, like now… Al and Andy are to wait here for Forensics…”
“Righto… I’ll let them know…”
Both officers returned to their car, performed a U turn at the junction and headed toward the garage… Inspector Case was already standing in the reception doorway as they locked wheels and screeched loudly to a halt…
“Where’s the fire lads…?”
“We were led to believe it was important sir…?”
“It’s a bit bloody late now isn’t it…? The owner is on his way, in the meantime tell me what you’ve got…?”
Both officers described everything that had transpired since they arrived on station at 1600 with Case reviewing the duty log which indicated the times at which the three men left the property. Interestingly there was no mention of baggage in the log and both Green and Davis confirmed no mention was made during the handover from the previous watchers…
It appeared that a well-rehearsed escape plan was executed perfectly, hopefully the garage owner would be able to shed some light. He arrived shortly after 2130… Steve Case walked across to the Jaguar car…
“Mr Griffiths…?”
The response was a nod…
“I’m Inspector Case… These two gentlemen are Detective Sergeants Green and Davis…”
“The woman on the phone said it was most urgent, I half expected to find the place up in flames… How can I help you…?
“When we get inside, we need information regarding a vehicle you’ve recently had in for a service…”
Griffiths unlocked the reception door, unarming the intruder alarm as he entered. Walking past the counter he said.
“My office is through here… Most of the work we do crosses my desk before accounts get their hands on it…”
He turned the lights on to reveal a very neat and precise office which had a glass wall behind a substantial office desk and chair. Quality fitted carpet, two filing cabinets clad in wood, a four seater leather sofa against the far wall and two less substantial office chairs facing the desk. The walls were decorated with diploma’s illustrating the qualifications the technicians had achieved. It smelt like cigars and ground coffee: overall not an unpleasant place to spend one’s week…
“I see you like to watch your staff Mr Griffiths…?”
“Oh that…? Not really, I started out in there as an apprentice when my Grandfather still owned the business; the glass makes me feel still part of it…”
“I see…”
For some reason Steve’s alarm bells were quietly activating. He made eye contact with his two officers to indicate his desire for them to have a nose. Both officers stood and made their way out of the office…
“May I ask where the two officers are going…?” “Oh just for a little mooch in the garage area…”
A flustered, Griffiths replied…
“They mustn’t do that, the alarms are still on… We’ll have the local police here…”
“We are here… Disarm the area would you please…?”
A strangely uncomfortable garage owner duly obliged…
“Thank you… Now, a vehicle was brought here on Friday for a service, I believe… A Blue Rover 600 index Lima one nine seven, Bravo Yankee Sierra, Would you still have the information here…?”
“Probably in my filing cabinet… Hold on…”
He walked across to his filing cabinets and unlocked the right hand one and opened the top drawer…
“Yes here it is… A service and two front tyres, we had to order them hence the reason for it not being ready until dinner time today rather than Saturday…”
“May I see that please…?”
Griffiths rather begrudgingly handed over the paperwork… Case immediately focused on the customer name… Graham Rix… He reached in to his overcoat inside pocket and withdrew three photographs of the men who until recently had been living less than two miles away.
“Mr Griffiths did you see the vehicle owner…?”
“Just briefly… It would have been the service reception staff who dealt with him mostly.”
Case offered the images to him…
“Might it have been one of these men…? “Maybe…As I said, I saw him briefly…”
“I’d like the names and addresses of your reception staff please… Now, Mr Griffiths…”
The slight reddening of
his cheeks indicated to Case that he was becoming angry or, was it something else…? Why were his alarms bells now sounding like a 200 decibel klaxon…?
Case walked to the glass wall and looked into the garage which was now well lit due to his two officers switching on the overhead lights. All the raised platforms had vehicles on them in various states of repair; the doors of the spray booth were open showing the front of a recently sprayed Ford Granada… As he returned his gaze to the room his eyes fixed on an elaborate shaped glass award on the left hand side of the desk, the inscription read:
Bearings: The Compass Trilogy Part One Page 25
