by James Green
‘They’re all Denny’s lads, Jimmy, but no Denny.’ The CI turned and looked at the men. ‘Except that big black bloke at the far end. I don’t know him.’
Jimmy looked.
‘He’s one of Denny’s. Been with him about three months, clever lad, keeps himself quiet but he’s useful.’
‘Denny must have got a tip then.’
Jimmy shrugged. He wasn’t getting into this any deeper.
‘It was your information, Jimmy. Who else knew?’
Jimmy shrugged again. He would have to talk to Tommy about this. It didn’t smell good.
‘The chief, maybe a couple of people he had to tell, and Tommy Flavin. It originally came from Tommy. We tried to keep this tight, we really wanted Denny.’
‘Well we fucking well didn’t get him, did we? All right, Costello, wrap it up and see what you can get.’ The chief inspector went to his car and left. Jimmy watched him go.
Keep it tight. What a joke when everything was for sale, almost everyone in his station knew about it and it wasn’t even his nick’s work. Jimmy and the rest of the team had been specially pulled for it. Tommy Flavin could be a devious bastard. Was it him that had put in the fix? But if it was, why pass on the tip in the first place? It had to be some kind of set-up, but what kind? What the hell. Mark it down as just another balls up. The way the lift was organised might have been made more public, but only if they had taken a lot of television time. It could have been anybody. A sergeant came up to him.
‘Denny’s got important friends, this sort of thing happens. You did everything you could. What does the CI want doing with these blokes?’
Jimmy opened the car door and got out. He and the other sergeant walked towards the handcuffed men who were standing by their car looking sullenly at nothing in particular.
‘The usual. See what we can get and then tag on whatever they’ll stand for from the backlog.’
‘Which nick?’
‘Suit yourself.’ Then he changed his mind. ‘Make it mine.’ Jimmy walked to the line of men. He knew them all and they all knew him. They looked at him when he came up.
‘OK lads, decide how much you’ll cough to and we’ll see what we can work out.’
Officers took the men to the police cars, a DC came up to Jimmy.
‘Why your nick? It’s a bit far, isn’t it?’
‘Not for me,’ and he rejoined the sergeant. They went back to the car and drove off.
The police cars left and the street returned to suburban peace. Only one uniformed officer remained. He stood by the getaway car to keep it company until the recovery vehicle came to collect it. A few lace curtains continued to twitch but the show was over, the circus had left town.
Jimmy and the other sergeant went for a couple of pints before Jimmy was dropped off at his nick. When he went in, the duty sergeant called him over.
‘I’ve been waiting for you. That big spade they brought in with Denny’s lot says he wants to talk to you particular. Said keep it quiet but make it quick.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing, I kept quiet and made sure I was around when you came in, that’s all.’
‘No one knows he’s asked for me?’
‘No one.’
‘Thanks, Arthur.’
Arthur was scared, that was good. If Arthur was scared it meant that he might have kept quiet. It also meant that the black bloke was serious. You had to be very serious to really scare a bloke like Arthur if all you used were words. He set off to an interview room.
‘I’ll take them one at a time, Arthur,’ he said loudly. ‘Start with Harry.’
He was sitting at a table in the interview room when Harry came in. There was a DC standing by the wall.
‘Hello, Harry.’
Harry sat down. ‘Hello, Jimmy.’
‘I’ll do all this by myself, Eddy. I have some negotiating to do. All right?’
Clarke nodded. It wasn’t procedure, but if that’s how Jimmy wanted it he wasn’t going to argue.
‘Anything for me, anything you think I should know?’
Harry shook his head.
‘Anything you want, a brief or something?’
‘A girl, a bottle of whisky, and the fucker who gave us to you.’
‘In that order?’
‘Just as they come to hand, Jimmy.’
‘What’ll you stand for?’
Harry shrugged. ‘Anything that doesn’t add time, bits and pieces. The usual.’
‘You’re getting too old for this kind of stuff, Harry. Maybe you should learn book-keeping when you go down this time. Come out and be a book-keeper. Accountants are the ones who steal the real money.’
‘You know how it is, you stick to what you know.’ Jimmy nodded.
‘OK, Harry, off you go. You know the way, tell them to send another one up.’
‘Anyone special?’
‘No, just as they come to hand.’
Harry got up and left the interview room. Jimmy sat and waited. After a few minutes another man walked in, he wasn’t black. Jimmy said the same sort of stuff to him and they chatted for a while before he sent him off. The next man was black. He came in and sat down.
‘The duty sergeant said you wanted to see me. That right?’
The man sat and looked at Jimmy. ‘This normal?’
‘What?’
‘Walking about. No copper with us when we come up here, just come here to you like homing pigeons. What’s to stop any of us just walking out?’
‘Walk out if you want to, sunshine, but when we pick you up we’ll kick the shit out of you for fucking us about and charge you with all we’ve got on the books.’
‘What if you don’t pick me up?’
‘Then Denny’ll pick you up, but he won’t just kick the shit out of you for fucking us about. He’ll cut your balls off. Look, none of us are tearaways or stupid Jack-the-lads, we all know the score. If Denny can get you off he will. If he can’t, well, he can’t, and you sit still and take the best he can get for you. It won’t be much so why piss about? Denny doesn’t want any of his operations screwed up by a lot of coppers charging about looking for some prat who’s done a runner and we want a nice clean result with a bit of the backlog off the books, so we all go through the motions. Nobody rocks the boat.’
The man thought about it. ‘OK.’
‘Now, what did you want to say to me?’
‘Nothing. I’ve changed my mind.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Nat.’
Jimmy grinned.
‘Short for Nat King Cole?’
The man didn’t seem to see the joke, or maybe he’d heard it before.
‘You got form, Nat?’
Nat shook his head.
‘Not done time?’
Nat shook his head again.
‘You’ll have both soon.’
‘You think so?’
Jimmy nodded. He stood up and walked to the side of the room and looked at the man sitting at the interview table. Then he came back and stood beside him.
‘You’re new on this patch, so I’ll break a rule and give you some advice. Denny won’t get you off this.’
‘No?’ Nat didn’t agree. ‘If you think that, you don’t know Denny.’
‘Yes I do, I know Denny very well and I’ll tell you something else I know, this was a set-up and it was an important set-up.’ He paused for a second. ‘Denny was supposed to be in on this one, wasn’t he?’
Nat was taken by surprise and had confirmed the answer by his hesitation before he had time to think.
‘That was the whole deal. Denny was the target, see? But he got wind of it somehow and somebody got put in for him at the last minute. Am I right?’
‘I’m listening.’
‘So now you’ll all have to go down, and you’ll all have to go down heavy so that someone high up on our side can show Denny that it wasn’t a set-up. If we let you walk away, Denny will know for certain we weren’t really in
terested in what we got. Don’t take my word for it though, ask Harry or Reg.’
Nat was thinking again.
‘Still don’t want to talk to me?’
Nat thought some more.
‘Suit yourself, there’s not much anyone can do on this one anyway.’
‘If something could be done, how much would it cost?’ Nat asked.
Jimmy was fishing. That’s what he had been doing, a little careful fishing, and now he knew he had the beginnings of a bite.
‘I dunno. But it would probably have to be more than money.’ Keep it sounding real, Jimmy, don’t lose the fish. He grinned again. ‘Although money would be nice.’
And he waited.
The float went under.
‘If I had something to use, how do I know I get to walk?’
‘You don’t get it, do you? You just don’t get how hard it is to fix. If you walk, then you all have to walk. If it’s just you that walks you’ll be dead meat, because whatever you give me I’ll use and when I use it somebody will make the connection and then everyone will know it came from you.’
‘Why so sure?’
‘Because if it’s any good, if it’s going to make me run for you, it’s got to be something bloody good and something I can’t get anywhere else. It has to be something only you can give me, or why do you the favour? See it now? Remember, none of your mates out there need proof. They’re judge, jury, and hangman on their own. If you have something worth getting me on board, great, I’ll try to save your black arse. But when I use it, if they think they’ve made a connection, that’s it, you’re dead.’
Nat thought about it. He took his time. Jimmy liked that. He liked working with people who took their time, clever people.
‘And can you do it so we all walk? So no one makes any connection.’
‘I don’t know, maybe. It’s a big ask.’ Now Jimmy took his time. He wanted to wrap it up, he could feel in his stomach he was close to something good. But he had to wait, it had to look right.
He took a turn around the room. He could feel Nat’s eyes watching him. Then he went back to the table and sat down. ‘If I did sort it, the price has to be right. It’s got to be something really special. It’s got to be someone from the top, someone like Denny Morris.’
‘That’s special, OK.’
Jimmy was nearly wetting himself in anticipation. Please, God, make it good, make the name a top fucker.
‘So? What can you give me?’
‘I can give you Denny Morris, and I can give him you for life.’
Jimmy nearly jumped from his chair punching the air. The jackpot, only the fucking jackpot. He wanted to run around the room shouting. What he actually did was try to make his face look as if nothing had happened, as if he was thinking it over, but it didn’t need to take very long, this boy was no mug, he wasn’t farting about. He could deliver, for Christ’s sake, he could deliver Denny Morris.
‘Go on then, give me Denny for a cast-iron life stretch. I want him served up on a plate with watercress round him and no chance of a slip up. Go on, Nat, Denny on a plate.’
Nat looked at him. Then he began to tell him his story, and Jimmy listened very carefully. At the end he nodded appreciatively. It was all there, dates, times, names. Jimmy knew where the body was buried now. He had Denny on a plate, just where he wanted him. One day he would use his information, a day when using it would finish Denny, permanently.
‘OK, Nat, I’ll take it, and if I can swing it, everyone walks. That’s Gospel from me to you.’
Nat got up.
‘It had better be, sunshine, I’m not a forgiving person.’
Jimmy smiled at him. ‘Don’t threaten me. Just now I’m the only friend you’ve got.’
Nat left.
Jimmy saw the last one and then left the interview room. He found Eddy Clarke.
‘Finish them off, Eddy, what they want and what they’ll take. I’ve got to go and talk to a man about a dog.’
‘OK, Jimmy.’
Jimmy went to a phone and dialled.
‘Hello, Tommy, I need to see you. No, now.’ His voice hardened. ‘Now, Tommy. It’s important and I’m not talking about it on the bloody phone, or maybe you want me to take what I’ve got to someone else? OK, in twenty minutes.’
Jimmy went to the nearest Tube station. Twenty-five minutes later he walked into The Rose and Crown. He went past the bar into a small back room where Tommy was waiting with a large whisky on the table. He was trying to look as if nothing was bothering him, but he wasn’t fooling himself or anyone else.
‘Nothing to drink, Jimmy?’
‘No.’ He sat down.
‘All right, what’s so fucking urgent?’
‘We were supposed to get Denny Morris, weren’t we?’
Flavin didn’t answer.
‘It’s OK, I can work it out. Denny’s on the up and Monk’s losing his touch. Who would anyone back?’
‘I don’t bet. Just tell me what you’ve got.’
‘Monk tried to give us Denny, but Denny’s too smart and he screwed it. For God’s sake if this sort of thing keeps happening we’ll have a fucking war. Monk’s making mistakes and that means everyone has to be careful, very careful.’
‘You’re not giving me anything, Jimmy.’
‘OK, smart-arse, I’ll give you something. I’ll give you a big, flashy old girl called Bridie. She dresses like a tart and gets driven around in a big Merc by clever boys who know what they’re doing and she comes from Glasgow. Is that anything, Tommy?’
Flavin got up, left the room, and came back with another stiff short which he added to the drink in his glass.
‘Fuck me,’ he finally said when he’d had a strong pull at his drink and settled. ‘That’s Bridie McDonald you’re talking about? Where does she fit into all this?’
‘No, Tommy, not yet. I’ve told you something, now you tell me something. That’s how this is going to work.’
Tommy finished the rest of his drink in one go.
‘OK, Jimmy. This is what I’ve got. Denny starts pushing Monk so Monk arranges for Denny to be picked up. I’m given the tip and told not to use it myself but pass it on. I pass it on to you because if it’s Denny in the frame I know you’ll get it organised. But like you say, there’s two sides to this question and I’m told to make sure Denny can get wind of it and then we wait and see who comes out on top. For Christ’s sake, this is all being dealt with from way up. You and me, we’re just foot soldiers, we don’t count for shit in this.’
‘Look, Tommy, I don’t know who’s running this comic strip but it’s all gone arse up. Now Denny knows he’s been targeted we’ll have a war on. Monk’s still good but he’s slipping, it all needs managing. He needs easing out and Denny needs easing in. We can’t just sit about and see who comes out on top, too much blood will get spilt.’
Flavin wanted another drink. This was too rich, and far too fucking dangerous.
‘Why don’t you look for promotion? I tell you what, why not miss out all the in-between bits and go straight for Chief Superintendent? It’s easy to say what needs doing, but it’s not so fucking easy to get it done.’
‘Listen, you’ve got a pipeline to the man upstairs who set this up and whoever he is he needs telling that you don’t fuel a war.’
Flavin thought about it. He didn’t want to get into this deeper than he had to, but what Jimmy was saying made sense. Maybe saying it to the man upstairs would do him a bit of good.
‘Tommy, don’t be on the wrong side when the last man’s standing. He’ll pay off debts.’
Flavin stopped thinking. It was hurting his head and Jimmy had always been better at it than him.
‘So, what do you suggest?’
‘Throw the book at the lads we picked up, go for it big-time. But square the briefs so that the defence can get a result on entrapment.’ He paused and then made his big throw. ‘And give the Internal boys your man upstairs as the one who set it up. If he’s backing Monk he’s on a los
er and if he makes another balls up like this we’re all in the shit. A10 will eat it up, that way it’s a big score for Internal. The lads get off on a technicality and everything looks kosher, everything can be squared. Lenny can get early retirement and go and live in the Costa del Crime and Denny goes to the top of the class and stops being pissed off and looking to chew people’s legs off.’
Tommy liked it. It might work.
It might work all round. Jimmy was a clever bastard all right. Maybe too clever. Giving A10 the man upstairs was risky. It was a nice touch, but it was risky.
‘I’ll see. It’s over my head but I’ll see. I don’t say you’re wrong and I don’t say it doesn’t sounds good to me, but I’m just a poor fucking DI and there’s a limit to what I can do.’
‘I know, Tommy, life’s fucking hard.’
Flavin looked at Jimmy. He was known for not swearing as much as everyone else, he was fucking odd about it. If Jimmy was using strong language, well … Why worry. Jimmy’s problems were his own. He’s a good copper, though, thought Flavin. Why the hell was he still only a fucking sergeant?
‘Look, Jimmy, seriously, why don’t you go for promotion, you’ve got the brains, if it’s just the exams …?’
‘It’s not the exams. I’m OK as a DS, and I don’t want to get out of my depth.’
Flavin looked at Jimmy the way Jimmy was looking at him.
‘You mean like me?’
‘Just like you.’
Flavin’s head dropped and he stared at the empty glass on the table. Eventually he spoke, and when he did it was with an honesty he hadn’t used for a very long time.
‘Fucking hell, where did it all go wrong, Jimmy?’
Jimmy sat and thought for a moment.
‘A long time ago, Tommy, a long fucking time ago.’
EIGHT
Paddington, February 1995
Philomena found Jimmy cleaning the kitchen floor. ‘Jimmy, that sergeant who came and interviewed us with the inspector called on the phone and told me they have arrested someone for Mrs Amhurst’s murder.’
‘That’s good.’
‘I think so. Apparently he’s an addict and a dealer. It’s good that he’ll be off the streets. If he’s found guilty, maybe they can help him in prison.’
