Landslide

by David Menon

  ‘Me too’.

  ‘Well I’m not and neither is Muriel’ said Tim emphatically. ‘The lack of morality and decency in that film is disgusting’.

  ‘Oh I thought it was a bit sad but very funny’ said Adrian. ‘I’ve watched it with my kids a couple of times’.

  ‘I’d never watch that filth with my kids’ said Tim. ‘I can take them anywhere now that I’ve instilled the fear of God in them’.

  Adrian really did want to laugh at that. When parents boast that they can ‘take their kids anywhere’ it usually means that the kids timid behaviour in public has been brought about because of threats of what will happen to them physically if they do show any personality or character. Adrian had never been that kind of parent with his three who were all now teenagers. He’d always taken what he saw as the more intelligent route and sat them down and explained calmly about the impact their potentially bad behaviour can have on other people and how selfish that is. He’d certainly never hit any of his children. He hadn’t even smacked any of them when they were toddlers. He believed that if you were a good parent then you didn’t need to physically assault your children when they were naughty. And indeed he could take his kids anywhere.

  ‘Well I’ve never been religious Tim and I intend to stay that way’.

  ‘My life has never meant more than since God’s been in it’ said Tim. ‘The pastor at our church, Gabriel, is a living saint in my eyes. Every Sunday morning he whips us all up into a frenzy of worship and obedience that lasts me right the way through the week’.

  ‘Obedience?’

  ‘To God’s will’.

  ‘I’ve no doubt but no offence I’ve got to get back to work so shall we sort out what I need doing in terms of your actual profession and why you’re here?’

  Tim laughed. ‘Yeah, sorry Adrian. I can get a bit carried away at times but it’s just that my soul is so full of God’s love and I’m desperate to share it’.

  ‘And I’m happy that works for you’ said Adrian who wouldn’t mind having his cock worshipped by Tim. Hope springs eternal.

  ‘What do you do for a living, Adrian?’

  ‘I’m a police officer’.

  ‘Ah, so we’re both on the same mission then’.

  ‘We are?’

  ‘To save the souls of those who’ve fallen off the chosen path’ said Tim. ‘You call it upholding the law, I call it living God’s word and letting that shine as an example’.

  Adrian thought he was going to be sick. Tim nice but dim was a fucking wanker.

  Bernie Connelly was rapidly losing patience with Terry. He’d come back to the UK to claim his empire back from the bastards who’d wrenched it from him and he wasn’t going to end up with an empty hand. He’d been lucky to have scraped together the crew he had even though his name didn’t open any doors to criminality like it always had done once.

  Terry was verging on unconsciousness with the pain. He’d been stripped naked. He was cuffed by his wrists and ankles to a chair that didn’t have a ‘seat’ in it. It had been cut out. The men who’d remained loyal to Connelly whilst he’d been attending to pressing engagements abroad were well used to him getting ever more adventurous when it came to torturing the truth out of those who’d fallen into his bad books but this was something else and was even making them wince. On Connelly’s orders they’d attached electrodes to Terry’s bollocks, which they’d done before, but this time the added twist was that he’d told them to put another electrode up this poor sod’s arse. God, that must really hurt when they flicked the switch on the generator that all the electrodes were attached to. And by the look of him Terry wouldn’t be able to take much more of it.

  ‘Do you like staring in your own version of a video nasty, Terry?’ asked Connelly as if he was asking him if he liked chocolate or not. ‘It seems to me you do because you’re not giving me any straight answers, my friend. I mean, come on, Terry. We’ve been here for hours off and on and I know you can’t take much more of what my associates here can dish out. So why don’t you do yourself a favour and tell me something of real significance? Come on, now. Tell me something that will save you from all this because it gives me no pleasure in doing this to you’.

  Connelly gave the nod and the gag was placed back across Terry’s mouth. He did his best to struggle knowing exactly what was coming next but it was no good. They used the gag because it would get on Connelly’s nerves to hear Terry screaming his tits off and besides, being where they were in an old warehouse in Cheetham Hill, they didn’t know who might be able to hear what was going on. A second or two later Terry’s eyes were full of the horrific pain that had been silenced by the gag across his mouth. His body stiffened and then relaxed again once the current was no longer shooting through his tender areas on the way to the rest of his body.

  Connelly took the gag off Terry’s mouth. Terry gasped. ‘Please ... boss, please’.

  ‘Terry, the thing, well one of the many things as you know that I can’t work out is how come my boys here remained loyal to me but you didn’t? I mean, what’s that all about? Was it just that you couldn’t resist the offer of the other guy? Is he even more intense than me? I wonder if he knows I’m back? Does he know, Terry? Does he know I’m back?’

  ‘Boss?’ said Terry who could barely keep his head straight. It was falling from side to side. It was as if he was in a trance like state. Pain had numbed his entire being. He felt desperate. ‘He’ll kill the kids if I talk’.

  ‘Who’s kids? Yours?’

  Terry nodded his head. ‘Yes, my kids’.

  Connelly grabbed Terry by the throat. ‘Now look you little piece of Judas shit. I kept you in work for years and that’s how you put the roof over the heads of your precious kids and food on their table. Now either you tell me who took my place in your loyal heart or so help me I’ll charge you so full of electricity that you’ll start to incinerate. Then after that, I’ll start on your precious kids who you’re trying to protect from your new master. Do you get me? Do you hear what I’m saying, Terry?’

  ‘Boss, please!’ Terry cried. He tried shifting his body as little as he could to try and alleviate the pain but it was no good. It was so bloody difficult to talk but he had to try one more time to convince Connelly that he couldn’t rat on his new boss even though he knew that Connelly would be true to his word and harm his family.

  ‘Terry, I know you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place here’ said Connelly trying to sound reasonable after loosening his grip round his throat. ‘Either you carry on with what we’re doing to you here or you risk pissing off whoever your new boss is. I can see the dilemma, Terry, of course I can. But you owe me, Terry. You owe me whatever information you’ve got that will get me back on my feet. You can see the position I’m in, Terry? Can’t you? I want to believe you, Terry, I really do. But the thing is that you’ve betrayed me once, big time, so how do I know that you’re not betraying me again?’

  Terry started to cry. ‘Now I’m begging you, boss, please. I had no choice. You were gone. I didn’t know when you’d be back. I ... I had to do something’.

  Connelly knew he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Terry. It was a shame because they’d got on well once. But the picture was very different now. Terry had taken a more than considerable amount of electric persuasion and still he wouldn’t give him a name. He would’ve made up and said anything to stop the current scorching through his body but there were still so many answers that were eluding Connelly who’d managed to get out of Lagos just in time to save his life. He’d literally left them reeling and yet he should’ve been protected. He’d been let down badly and that was making trust something that was eluding him. This was just the start of him trying to see who was behind it all. Who wanted him out of the way?

  ‘A name, Terry’ said Connelly. ‘Just a fucking name, for Christ’s sake!’

  Terry summoned up all his strength to raise his head and blurted it out. ‘Paddy Higgins’.

  ‘Paddy Higgins?
’ said Connelly who wasn’t altogether surprised by the revelation. Paddy Higgins and his operations in North Manchester had been a thorn in Connelly’s side for many years. They hadn’t exactly competed for the same territory but they’d been rivals nevertheless in the Manchester underworld. ‘Well, well, well. Paddy Higgins. Now I really do know what I’m up against’.

  ‘Boss? You believe me?’

  Connelly looked at Terry pitifully. ‘Terry, do you love your wife and kids?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a simple question, Terry do you love your wife and kids?’

  ‘Don’t bring them into this, boss, please ... ‘

  ‘ ... oh for fuck’s sake Terry, do you love your wife and kids?’

  ‘Yes, yes I do, of course I do’.

  ‘Then say it’.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Say that you love your wife and kids! Jesus, you’re fucking dense’.

  ‘Okay, okay, I love my wife and kids, boss. I do’.

  ‘Good’ said Connelly who then nodded to the member of his gang who was ready with the gun. ‘Then we’ll let those be your last words my friend’.

  .

  LANDSLIDE FOUR

  ‘The almost chilling fact of the matter is’ said Barton as he continued to cascade the information he’d gleaned from his NCA briefing to his team who’d gathered in the open plan office they shared with each other and which was currently dominated by three white boards with pictures and various snippets of information regarding their investigation. ‘Is that everything is changing at a pace that all the law enforcement agencies across the free and not so free world are working their arses off to try and get a grip on. Organised crime units operate like multi-national corporations on the basis of so-called top down economics where those at the bottom think they’re part of the big time and those at the top manipulate them into believing that’.

  ‘Just like the theory of top down economics in the political sense, sir’ said DCI Ollie Wright.

  ‘Yes and the psychology is the same, Ollie’ said Barton. ‘Get the masses thinking that a few shares in British Gas would mean that the world was taking notice of them. It was a grand illusion that won Thatcher three elections and will probably win Theresa May at least another one but I digress’.

  DC Joe Alexander didn’t want to hear anymore of this political shit from his boss. The others might be responsive to it but he’d happened to like Thatcher and what she’d done for the country. He was still at school back then but he was old enough to understand things for himself and work out his own opinions. The unions had needed reigning in at that time. She’d restored the great back into Britain as far as he and the rest of his family were concerned. Blair and his mob had taken the country too far down the road of social liberalism. The boundaries between right and wrong had become so blurred that the solid working class foundations that he’d been brought up on seemed to have disappeared altogether. He wasn’t against such things as equality for gay people. He had no problem with that at all. It was just the way everything seemed to have been shoved down people’s throats whether they liked it or not in a way that had offended the conservative values of the working class.

  DS Adrian Bradshaw shook his head in disbelief. ‘People really are fucking stupid’.

  ‘But they’re not, Adrian’ Joe responded immediately. ‘It’s just that things have moved forward a lot quicker than they’re comfortable with. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘Can’t I see the problems caused by the narrow minded then of course I fucking can’ Adrian responded. He’d always been suspicious of Joe’s personal perspectives and now that his friend was barely managing to disguise them it made him ill disposed towards him. ‘I’m ashamed to be from the white working class when I hear them banging on about not being listened to when all they’ve got to say is a load of racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, retrograde shit. I don’t want to hear excuses for being Islamophobic or anti-Semitic or for your beliefs that women should only go out to work out of financial necessity to support their husband and not because they should have the choice. My own mother believes that crap and when she brings it up in front of my daughters I get so fucking mad because I want them to know that they’ve got choices just as much as my son has’.

  ‘But our job, Adrian is to make everybody in our communities feel safe and protected, no matter what their views are and no matter how they offend us personally’.

  Adrian took a deep breath. It was one thing to be patronised but when it came from one of your best mates when he was spouting all that other shit it was something else. ‘Yes Joe and I don’t need reminding what our duty of care to the whole community is. But some of our citizens need to appreciate that the law is the law and it applies to everyone equally’.

  Barton called a coffee break to calm things down. His personal sympathies in the argument that was breaking out was with Bradshaw but he didn’t need to let that show. It would be adding oil to the already smouldering fire. He would perhaps though have to keep an eye on things a lot more heavily than he’s used to. One thing he’d appreciated about this team was that nobody had ever appeared to be jostling for position within it or for his favour. There was a brief moment of resentment from Joe Alexander when Adrian Bradshaw got the promotion to DS and it had been down to a choice between the two of them. But they were mates and had managed to get through it. Or perhaps they’d got it all wrong. Barton wondered if Alexander was still carrying resentment over Bradshaw’s promotion or maybe it was something else entirely.

  ‘So what we’re talking about here’ Barton continued after they’d all replenished themselves with coffee and it looked like Adrian and Joe loved each other again. God, what were they like those two? Like an old married couple that’s what. ‘Is a new breed of criminal psychopath with a tablet computer who will leave the likes of Bernie Connelly feeling very out of place in the brave new world they’re creating. That’s if Connelly can find any pieces to pick up’.

  ‘And what about Connelly, sir?’ Joe asked. ‘I mean I can appreciate we need to know about all this stuff with organised crime but Connelly is our suspected killer and he’s out on the loose’.

  ‘We will be getting to that, Joe’ said Barton noting the tone of rebuke in DC Alexander’s voice but pressing on. ‘Connelly is of course still dangerous, not just because of the abduction and continuing disappearance of Terry Matthews, but also because he’s an animal who’s been cornered and he doesn’t know who his friends are’.

  ‘So it’s like there’s been a kind of consolidation in the industry if I can put it like that’ said Ollie.

  ‘I think that’s a very good way of putting it, Ollie’ said Barton. ‘The new criminal psychopaths will kill and enjoy every dying breath of their victim because it’s still down to the same old principles of revenge and power. But the difference is that our new friends spread themselves across a wider canvass and are not afraid of making international deals. It’s not just about controlling the streets in North Manchester. That’s much too small fry for them. It’s about using those streets to support their wider base. They’re not interested in who’s appointed himself as the local Mr. Big Shot and we need to be aware of that. These people are ruthless in a way that makes Bernie Connelly look like the proverbial Sunday school teacher’.

  Barton completed his briefing to the rest of the team about the impact of international organised crime syndicates on the local scene and then brought them back to matters at hand. He studied a map showing a twenty mile radius all around the crime scene deep in the Cheshire countryside hoping there would be a clue leading to the team being able to identify the other crime scene where a little girl had her life snatched away from her in circumstances that were beyond all the reckoning of reasonable people.

  There are around 8000 ANPR, or Automatic Number Plate Recognition cameras positioned at various places around the country and they take about 28 million reads a day. It always surprised Barton that the civil liberties groups hadn
’t been up in arms about them but they were becoming an essential tool for the police to try and track the movements of criminals. Barton was no rabid right-wing hang and flog them type by any stretch of the imagination. He was much too thoughtful for that. But as criminals grew in their ability to deploy ever more sophisticated ways to break the law then the police had to at least try and keep up with them. Liberalism had to be balanced with realism with individual liberty and freedom maintained as the highest priority.

  The plates on the two criminal cars involved in the skirmish with June Hawkins had of course turned out to be false but the information had been fed into the system and the ANPR cameras had indeed caught both of them plus that of June Hawkins. Barton had added their findings to the map and he pinned it to the third white board they’d had to put up to cover all the emerging intricacies of the case.

  Turning back to the map somewhere in this Cheshire land of plenty was an entry point that Bernie Connelly had used to ambush the movements of supposedly rival gangsters. But Barton also wanted to know why Connelly had come back to the UK? Was he just homesick? Or did he have things that he’d left behind here that he now needed to collect? And why did he leave the car with the body of the young girl in the boot? Was it nothing to do with him? And if that was the case then who was it to do with? Did Connelly even know about the body in the boot?

  With his fingertip he traced the line that June Hawkins had taken through the quiet Cheshire country lanes until she was hit by the car that was being driven by Gary Makin and which carried Terry Matthews. He also traced the line of the car that had been in pursuit of it with Bernie Connelly as a passenger. According to the ANPR cameras the two criminal cars had come from northeast of where the map started and that placed them both firmly as having come through the Stockport area if not having originated there. When the Bernie Connelly car initially left the scene it headed north before coming back. Then when it made its second exit it also headed back into the city centre of Manchester but with Terry Matthews aboard and this time it didn’t come back. Where had they taken him? What had they done with him? They would now have to check the CCTV cameras covering those relevant parts of the city.