O’Neil looked across at Jackie, with all the pipes and tubes leading in and out of her body. The utter helplessness of her condition washed over him.
Charlie O’Neil felt broken.
Chapter Nineteen - DS Early
DI Khan must have heard all the whispering and muffled laughs, as she followed DS Early through the open-plan office to their newly dedicated ops room.
This situation was probably nothing new to her; she must have been used to not being liked by her fellow officers. A university graduate, who was female, and ticked the ethnic box—yep she was always going to get somewhere in the police. Early remembered a time when the job was about policing; about people who put scumbags inside, people who did the things others were too scared to do and make sure families were safe in their homes. Khan would not have survived back in those days.
They were almost at the door of the ops room when a young scruffy looking detective raised his hand. “Ma’am.”
Early looked back momentarily, expecting Khan to keep walking and ignore him; but she stopped her in her path. Early sighed. He was hoping to get to the ops room without being noticed; now he might be placed in the position of either having to defend his new boss, and by default joining her in being considered a liability by all the other real police officers, or of leaving her to her fate.
“Yes Detective?”
“We’ve heard you’re trying to do a Capone on Charlie O’Neil?” the detective said, failing to suppress a smile.
“Sorry Detective, I don’t know what you mean?” Khan said.
“You know, look through his bank statements and make sure he’s paying all his taxes and stuff.” The detective was managing to keep a straight face, but laughter had burst out behind him.
Khan’s face flushed and she walked quickly through the door into the makeshift office that was now her ops room. Early tried to stay neutral to the situation and followed Khan inside. Khan took a seat behind a table with a flip chart in front of it, with photos of different men plastered all over.
Despite Early being sure she must have experienced these types of colleagues before, he could still see that she looked flustered. “They’re just screwing with you. They know you’re new and…”
“And I’m a woman?” Khan finished.
“No—well —maybe…” Early said, stumbling over his words.
“Can we get on with it Detective Sergeant?” Khan snapped.
“Of course Guv, but I was going to say that it’s because you’re a lot more senior than them and so much younger. It’s just jealousy,” Early said.
“Thank you DS Early.”
Khan was visibly calming down now.
“On the back of the questions you were asking yesterday, I’ve put together a list of potential and alleged associates of Charlie O’Neil and Robert Payne,” Early said, gesturing to the board in front of him. “Of course, you’d find little on the books that connects them to anything.”
Khan scowled as she studied the board, which showed a number of men’s faces staring back at them. The two men at the top were Charlie O’Neil and Robert Payne.
“There are only five men on the board, two of which are Payne and O’Neil.”
Early shrugged, looking back at Khan. “Bear in mind, Guv; you’re investigating people who, on any criminal database, will show up as completely innocent men. Those guys outside this office would say that even the other three people have never have had proven links to our two boys.”
“Innocent? Let’s call them, unprosecuted so far…” Khan corrected.
“Think you’ll find that’s the same thing in court Guv,” Early said, looking back at his boss.
Khan folded her arms in irritation. “Do you think you can talk me through the criminal connections to O’Neil and Payne that we do have?”
“You know there are other big criminals we could look to go after. We might have a stronger chain to follow up in other cases and—I tell you—they’ll still be names,” Early said, looking back at the flipchart.
“I’m after Charlie O’Neil,” Khan replied firmly.
“Ok, well, alleged criminal connections,” Early said not making eye contact and turning quickly back to the board. He picked up a marker pen and drew a line from the Payne and O’Neil’s photos to the face of a man who looked in his late forties, his greying hair in an Elvis like quiff.
“Michael Dunne—known as Mickey—no criminal record.” Early’s words were clipped; again he made no eye contact. “If we follow the assumption that O’Neil and Payne are an organised criminal firm, Mickey is what we would call, if this was an Italian-American mafia family, a Caporegime.”
“They are not a mafia family,” Khan corrected.
“No Guv, but as the Mafia were once the most recognised organised criminals in the world, I find it easiest to define other organisations along their lines, at least in terms of the roles individuals play. And there are analogies.”
“Fine, carry on.”
“OK, as Caporegime, we think Mickey is in command of all the different criminal factions of O’Neil and Payne’s empire. He is also, very nicely, listed as Head of Operations for O’Neil & Payne Logistics,” Early added, smiling. “He is highly loyal to O’Neil and Payne. We can tell the continuous links, through different forms of employment, to one of or both the duo over the last twenty years.”
“Is that overly rare?” Khan shrugged.
“Yes,” Early nodded. “And there’s another thing—his little baby was murdered in what we believe was an attempted hit on his life. But he said nothing to us, not a word. Stayed in O’Neil and Payne’s employment throughout.”
Khan grimaced. “His child was murdered?”
“I’m sure there are countless benefits to a life of crime; but your family’s safety wouldn’t be one of them,” Early grimaced.
Khan did not return the smile and waited for him to continue.
“Mickey’s nickname on the street is Mickey the Bag, as he's always seen carrying a sports bag around with him. We think it has concealed weapons in, but we have never had the opportunity to follow this theory up. There have, of course, been many criminal allegations made against Dunne—everything from GBH to murder. He has been to court thirteen times but always acquitted.”
“Thirteen, lucky for some,” Khan quipped.
“We have always believed that Dunne was part of the bank robbery team in the eighties, but needless to say, he always had an alibi,” Early said, now drawing a line from Mickey to a large black man, who could be aged anything from thirty to fifty. “Leroy Elkins, forty-eight years old. An interesting connection as he does have a criminal record.”
Khan now looked interested. “Tell me more.”
“Numerous convictions; GBH, ABH, armed robbery, extortion, burglary…” Early looked back at Khan. “Do you want me to go on?” he asked.
“No, but I’m not hearing the connection with O’Neil?” Khan replied.
“Well, there obviously isn’t a criminal connection between them; but this boy does have form and that’s makes him very interesting. Particularly as we can actually put him on this chart,” Early said, not looking back at Khan, just focusing on the flip chart.
Khan’s eyes lit up. “Ok, tell me more then.”
“Various stints inside, due to burglary and different forms of theft and assault. Like I say, nothing illegal linking him to O’Neil though,” Early said, looking back at Khan.
Khan didn’t hide her disappointment.
“But we do have numerous photos of Elkins together with O’Neil and Payne. And if we track back through various closed cases, we also have numerous witness statements where they are referred to as good friends,” Early continued.
“Is that it?” Khan asked, irritation back in her voice.
“We also think, he has links to some Yardie groups…” Early began.
“No, I mean, is that it in terms of connections to O’Neil?” Khan said. “Why have we even got photos of these guys togeth
er if there’s no real evidence there!”
Early didn’t have an answer, he was hoping a chart of hopeless links might be enough to put the woman off.
“What about Payne? Any pictures of Elkins with him?” Khan asked annoyed.
“Nothing. Payne might as well be another successful executive.”
“Fine, who’s the last one?”
Early drew a line across to the last photo. The final man was in his forties and had dark Latin looks.
“Who’s the Antonio Banderas look alike?” Khan said, tapping her fingers on the desk.
“Yes him—we don’t have a name for him. His photo is listed on Interpol and FBI files, in connection to the flow of drugs going in and out of Mexico; but we know almost nothing about him. He has mainly been pictured in Juarez, a city in Mexico. This leads us to believe he could be a big player in the Cocaine distribution network from Mexico into the states and Europe; or maybe he’s just a Mexican business man.”
“A big player, with no name,” Khan said shaking her head. “The link to O’Neil?”
“He was once pictured at the logistics base of O’Neil and Payne… it’s enough to pose the question…”
“So what you’re saying is that a Mexican business man was pictured at O’Neil’s and Payne’s logistics office. I’m assuming they make many legal imports form Mexico?”
“From what I remember, they import a number of products from Mexico. They have a number of contracts with some of the major grocery companies.”
“So you’re telling me that you could have some of Tesco’s senior managers up there?”
“I’m telling you that if you only wanted provable business relationships pictured up there, that O’Neil and Payne’s faces would be the only ones you saw,” Early said, putting his pen down.
“Unbelievable, in short we have nothing,” Khan said, standing up. “How can this be the case? No one’s this good! If we walked into some dodgy pub anywhere in London and asked them to name a notorious gangster, then Charlie O’Neil’s name would be the first one to be mentioned!”
“These are all potentially serious criminals; any investigation into organised crime is never easy. And if we knew more about them, well—let’s be honest—they wouldn’t be on the street, simple as that. However, the reason some of them might not have records or any firm links is because they’re good at what they do,” Early said, taking a seat in front of the board of photos. “Or maybe they’re straight now. Maybe they decided to put the dough that they made from robbing banks into something straight. Maybe all the chat you mention is just street urban legend shit.”
“No, I don’t believe that; we keep going after O'Neil, and we start some real detective work, DS Early,” Khan said, taking her raincoat off a stand in the corner of the room. “We’ll start looking around and seeing what we can find.”
“Ok, but where do we begin?” Early asked.
“The O’Neil & Payne Logistics base,” Khan said, taking a notebook out of her pocket.
Early didn’t like the idea of visiting O’Neil & Payne Logistics; he’d tried to talk Khan out of it for most the journey as subtly as he could. He shook his head, as he pulled the unmarked car up to the locked gates of the haulage company; this was a bad idea. He looked across at Khan who was transfixed on the desolate yard.
“It’s empty,” Khan said, frustrated, as if she had hoped it would be full of people packing and unpacking lorries in a busy daily operation.
The base was situated in the middle of a busy trading estate on the outskirts of West London. The yard had a small building in the centre of it with tall shelters surrounding all sides, which would easily offer protection to fifteen to twenty large lorries.
“I had heard the economy hasn’t been kind on logistics businesses,” Early said, unwinding his window and lighting a cigarette.
“I have looked at the accounts of this business, and their annual turnover is over five million. I’d like to know how they’re achieving that with an empty yard,” Khan said, still scanning the yard for some kind of clue.
“Maybe they start work really early?” DS Early said sarcastically. “Where to next?”
“Let’s pay Robert Payne a visit,” Khan said, turning away from the empty yard in disgust.
It was turning into a real waste of a day. Early hadn’t even had a coffee and it was practically lunchtime; after the wasted journey to the empty logistics hub they took a slow journey back into town in the heavy London traffic.
They had now been parked outside Payne’s house for over an hour when Early tried to make some conversation. They had earlier arrived and pressed the buzzer next to the gates of Payne’s property for a full ten minutes before deciding to decamp back to the car.
Early took some photos out of his wallet and showed them to Khan; she looked down and saw the ageing policeman with a woman of around his age and seven children surrounding them.
“That’s us and the grand-children,” Early said proudly.
“Very nice,” Khan said managing a smile.
Early could see that Khan hated talking families; this went with what he saw as the stereotype, cold career driven woman he thought she was.
“Yeah, me and the Mrs. have big plans for retirement,” Early continued, not completely sensing Khan’s disinterest. “We’ve got a little flat in the Algarve; I took an advance on the pension. That way, we can take the grand kids out there from time to time.”
“Are you planning to emigrate?” Khan said with no interest in his answer.
“Yeah, can’t wait. I know we’ll miss a few things here. I’ll miss getting down the Bridge and stuff,” Early said, putting his wallet back in his jacket.
“The Bridge?” Khan asked.
“You know the Blues? Chelsea? I’m a season-ticket holder. Down there every weekend I can,” Early said, lighting another cigarette.
“Oh,” Khan said wishing she hadn’t asked.
“What about you, Guv? You got people to come home to?” Early asked.
He figured the answer would be no but thought it only polite to ask.
“No, I live on my own,” Khan said, all her attention on the tall wall that ran around Payne’s property and trying to scale it with her eyes.
“If you don’t mind me saying, that’s pretty strange isn’t it?” Early asked innocently.
Khan turned back at early. “Strange?”
“Well, it’s just with a name like Khan, I’m thinking you’re probably Muslim, right?” Early continued.
“How very astute of you DS Early,” Khan replied with a scowl. “And there was me not wearing my hijab today.”
“Sorry Guv, I didn’t mean anything by it; but I thought most Muslim women were married pretty young, and you know, plop out a few kids,” he said, finishing his cigarette.
“It’s so refreshing to hear from a police detective who’s free from stereotypes and chauvinism.”
Early looked unsure as to what to say to recover the situation and the uneasy silence was only broken by a knock on the window of Khan’s door. Khan almost jumped out of her skin at the surprise and then her face flushed self-consciously. Early did not want to get a caught up in anything with this broad; she was not made for the street.
A well-dressed man was stood on the path by the car and beckoned for Early and Khan to get out the car. Early got out first and approached the man; Khan slowly opened her car door.
The man spoke in a hushed voice. “You’re the police aren’t you?”
Early flashed his warrant card, almost as in reflex to the question, built through the years. “Yes sir, is everything OK?”
“I knew it. I saw you from the window, just sat in your car. I knew something was up with those people from yesterday.”
“Those people?”
“Well you couldn’t miss them. Their dirty old transit van was parked right in front of my drive for most of the day; and do you know I could barely get my car out when I left the house to get the weekly groceries” the
man said, clearly not used to this type of problem. “Has Mr. Payne been burgled then?”
“What makes you ask that?” Early said, wishing he’d never go out of the car.
People like this were infamous to the police; nosey neighbours, just wanting gossip. At best they were just an irritation, but at worst they could ruin good investigations, with stupid misinformation that sent investigations completely off track. The quicker that got rid of this clown the better.
“Well, because I saw them get into their van and drive over to Mr. Payne’s house and they only used his fob to open the gates up,” the man continued. “I’d say that was more than a little strange wouldn’t you?”
“Did it not occur to you they might be workmen sir?” Early said, allowing a hint of annoyance to creep into his voice.
“No, you didn’t see them. There were three of them; they looked like villains to me. They were not the type of people we’re used to seeing around here,” the man said, gesturing to the row of mansions that filled the road.
“Did you take their registration sir?” Khan asked.
“Well of course, as soon as I saw one of them dangling out of the window and waving the fob to open the gate, I said to Doris… there’s something not right here Doris,” the man said. “Doris nodded; she always knows a wrong’un.”
“Is Doris your wife sir?” Khan asked now with her notebook in hand.
“No, Doris is my dachshund. I can tell you, she started barking, and she never barks at anyone,” the man continued.
Early rolled his eyes and looked back at the car, desperate for an escape. This guy was a classic; nothing better to do than twitch his curtains.
“So am I right, was it a burglary?” the man asked expectantly.
“No sir, we are conducting an separate investigation; but this may be connected to it. Have you seen Mr. Payne today?” Khan asked.
“No, oh dear, do you think something has happened to poor Mr. Payne?” the man said, fascinated by the potential gossip.
Serious People Page 14
