He’d grown Trevor Rudkin from a tiny seed. A lowly entrance-level official, Rudkin had clambered up through the civil service’s Dantean circles to the position that he currently held. And now, just as Rudkin was about to prove useful for the first time in ten years, he had to share his creature with someone else. It made Kyle want to spit as well as choke.
Craig had watched as the intelligence operator’s emotions played out on his face, his own countenance set hard. Now he spoke again.
“Trevor Rudkin told you about this weekend’s party. How did he know?”
Kyle’s sigh could have been heard all the way to Stormont.
“Joshua Loughrey is his boss.”
Ah. That explained his curiosity about the MEP.
Craig added what he knew.
“And Loughrey is a member of the IBP. He also has sexual preferences that might link him to Veronica Lewis.”
Kyle turned to Ash, furious at being out of the loop.
“What did you find?”
“Loughrey was on FaceChat six years ago, playing four in a bed.”
Kyle swung back to Craig. “And you extrapolated to Lewis’ parties.”
“Correct. The next of which is this Saturday. Is Rudkin going?”
“He might be.”
“Is he?”
Kyle smirked knowingly, then dropped the expression hastily in case it brought more wrath.
“He said he might be, that’s all I know. Described it a possible perk of accompanying Loughrey to Brussels this week.”
Craig knew there was more. “What else did Rudkin tell you? There has to be more than a trip and possible party.”
Kyle averted his gaze, wondering if Craig had read the existence of another secret there. His next words said that he had.
“There’s no point hiding, Kyle. I know there’s something else, so what is it?”
Craig’s voice had returned to its earlier ‘don’t fuck with me’ tone, so, with a sigh, Spence reluctantly met his eyes.
“He said that he’d heard something. Just a rumour, mind you.”
Liam wanted to hit the D.I. now, and he would if he dragged things out any longer. Low blood sugar was making him irritable: it was definitely snack o’clock.
“Spit it out.”
Kyle squeezed out a reply.
“Loughrey…might, just might…have been involved in planning…”
Even Annette wanted to scream ‘HURRY UP!’
“Peter McManus’ hit.”
The words were greeted by stunned looks all round. Then, without another word, Craig beckoned the spy, both analysts and Liam into his office and closed the door.
****
Dublin Airport.
The German gazed up at the departure board, eyes falling on Hamburg and running along the line that said the flight had been delayed an hour. It didn’t matter. The escape from Belfast had been the important part. This leg of the trip was just a formality.
The sliding doors to the outside world and a longed-for cigarette coincided with a vibrating mobile and a hidden numbered call. It was answered as the first hit of nicotine hit the killer’s lungs and their sigh of pleasure was heard at the other end.
It made The Fox long for a cigarette of his own, but he deferred that pleasure till he was sure things had been sewn up.
“You left the gloves where they will find them?”
His tone was brisk and focused on business. No-one listening could have guessed what his subtext was.
The German took another slow drag of their Gitanes, exhaling the smoke in an elegant stream before answering.
“Of course. In the rubbish behind some pleb’s apartment. The DNA will confuse them perfectly.”
The response was snapped out.
“Don’t get cocky! They’re not stupid over here.”
The silver-haired man reined in his anger by taking a deep breath. He still wanted to shout at the assassin, but as always, his fury was tempered by other considerations.
“You have your orders. We’ll meet on Monday in the usual place.”
Hearing him about to sign off Billy Regent’s killer rushed to respond. “Wait. Why Monday? I thought the plan was to meet on the twenty-fourth?”
“It’s not necessary to wait that long. The party this weekend should swing it. Now that McManus has gone the others will fall in line. The British are sheep, after all.”
It prompted a shared laugh that shifted gradually into murmured words that would have surprised many.
“Bis Montag, meine Liebe.” Until Monday, my love.
His sign off was still efficient. “Right. I’m losing this phone so don’t try to call it. I’ll contact you when we need to talk again.”
****
Craig’s Office. 6.30 p.m.
“Davy. Tell me what you got from D.C.I. Sheridan’s images. We need possible venues for this party before the weekend.”
“Which night, chief? Are we sure it’s S…Saturday?”
The question made Craig turn to Ash.
“You’ve got Jenny Wasson’s list of party dates. Which nights do they happen on?”
A moment of squinting later the answer came back. “Saturdays. Always, by the look of it. The summer ones anyway. The winter ones are mid-week.”
Satisfied, Davy set his smart-pad on the desk and pulled up a series of maps. The first was of Northern Ireland, with a handful of blue crosses dotted across the counties.
“These are the only locations D.C.I. Sheridan sent through that fit the bill. High security, heavy personnel numbers, and infrastructure like towers and fences, plus hefty power bills for providing electricity. I also s…searched domestic alarm companies, but none of the properties they served could provide the isolation a party would need.”
Craig gazed at the crosses and nodded, before asking another question. “Any south of the border?”
Davy made a face. “That’s proving a bit more difficult. I’ve been on to the equivalent team in the Gardaí but they won’t s…send us what they have. Said they have to run it up their chain first.”
Before Craig could ask, Liam leant forward. “I’ll take that, boss. If I need the C.C. to chip in I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Thanks, Liam. Make sure you tell them it’s unlikely the party will be at one of their venues, too far from Belfast, but we may need some of their men to stake them out.”
Kyle had been shaking his head since the word ‘unlikely’, so Craig reluctantly took the bait.
“OK. Tell me why I’m wrong, Kyle.”
The D.I. resisted the temptation to give him a list and instead answered with one word. “Bruges.”
Liam knew Craig needed more and a punch in the arm ensured that he got it. The D.I. continued, moaning and rubbing his bicep.
“Loughrey went to a sex-party in Bruges. If they have parties there then the Republic would be easy, and we already know the Earl’s place in Louth was a venue in the past.”
It was a fair point and one Craig nodded Liam to pursue.
“OK. Davy, tell us about the properties Theo Sheridan sent through.”
As the analyst ran through the list of a National Trust property, a museum, a private home and two health clinics, Craig’s mind raced ahead.
“No to the clinics, too many patients. No to the Trust property and museum, they’ll both have guards. Tell me about the private residence.”
Davy homed in on the relevant cross in County Down, and as they watched a magnificent modern house appeared, set in a vast expanse of ground.
“Darrian House, six hundred acres near Ballywalter. Home of Emmett Darrian, billionaire heir to the whisky empire. His personal wealth is around eighty million pounds, expected to increase to over a billion s…soon, when the business expands into the US.”
“Tell me more about him.”
Davy tapped twice and the image of a fifty-something man appeared.
“Strictly speaking he’s Emmett Darrian the Fourth. His great-grandfather established the
business in eighteen-eighty, and it’s been handed down through the eldest sons. Next in line is his son, called, yes, you’ve guessed it, Emmett Darrian the Fifth. He’s only five-years-old, so the business will be with the fourth for a while yet-”
Liam cut in. “Wife?”
“Three. The latest is half his age and the mother of his two youngest kids. She was s...some sort of model before she married him.”
Liam gave a knowing snort that exposed his prejudices. Craig gave it a pass; he was too busy this week to worry about Liam not being politically correct.
“Tell me about Darrian’s political leanings, Davy, that’s if he has any.”
“He does. Right of centre. He’s donated to the IBP.”
The answer made Craig lean back in his chair. “The IBP…again. Kyle, remind us what you know about the IBP.”
“Nominally Pro-EU, but with a very strong right-wing who are against staying in the EU.”
“OK, so…the Pro-EU First Minister Peter McManus has been removed in favour of Roger Burke, who we know is anti-EU, and so far, we have the following IBP supporters’ names in the ring: The Earl, McArdle, Bell and Loughrey, definitely attending the parties. But Loughrey’s an MEP so if we leave the EU he’ll be out of a job.”
“He’ll be out of that job, but if he’s a party faithful the IBP will soon find them something else.”
“Fair point.” Craig turned to the analysts. “What do we know about the Earl’s political leanings?”
Ash answered eagerly. “Liberal TD but very Republican. He wants a United Ireland and doesn’t mind how it’s achieved.”
Liam was puzzled. “But the Republic’s in the EU, so how could the UK leaving the EU help him with Irish unification?”
Davy and Kyle said it at once. “The economy.”
Davy waved the D.I. on.
“OK. If, as predicted by all the big banks, leaving the EU damages the UK economy, then the thinking is that even the staunchest UK Loyalists in Northern Ireland will get fed up. People’s political opinions change when they’re hit in their pockets. If that happens then linking Northern Ireland up with the Republic in a United Ireland and us re-entering in the EU might make financial sense to a lot of people.”
Craig had been nodding since they’d said economy. “OK, I can see that. The Earl’s motivation for supporting the Leave campaign is a United Ireland, and we know the others want out for ideological Pro-Independent Britain reasons. Now we have Emmett Darrian, a businessman who presumably thinks with his wallet. All keen for the UK to vote out of the EU, and all attending or hosting Veronica Lewis’ parties.” His eyes widened suddenly. “These parties are nothing to do with sex!”
Liam gave him a knowing look. “I wouldn’t say nothing.”
But Craig was adamant. “I would. OK, so they may have sex at them and maybe they take incriminating photos to blackmail people into supporting them, but essentially the girls are just a front.”
Liam shook his head. “Now, hang on, boss. You’re talking like there’s only the IBP attending the parties. As far as I recall Jennifer Wasson mentioned there being up to twenty men at each one, and so far, we’ve only named four or five linked to the IBP.”
It made Craig pause, but only for a moment. “Perfect.”
“Huh?”
“A party within a party. It’s the perfect cover. Think about it. While the usual antics are happening all over the house, the inner group can slip away, or maybe not even slip away, they may be discussing things openly, certain that everyone else is too drunk or stoned to hear.”
“So, the sex and drugs are covers?”
“Not for the other men there, but for the IBP, yes. Yes, I’d say that they probably are. If they’ve been using the parties to plot, that could be why they needed to ensure Veronica Lewis toed the line. Maybe she was planning on stopping the parties, or maybe they thought she was about to talk, but whichever it was they had to subdue her to keep their cover.”
“Which they did. She’s so terrified she won’t even speak to us now. OK, so what about the arms and antiques smuggling? Have we given up on those and the drugs?”
“Keep asking the questions but my guess is they’ll turn out to be a dead end. Although I want Karl Rimmins at tomorrow’s briefing. The Drugs Squad could still have a part to play.”
The group was silent for a full minute until Davy broke the quiet.
“Chief…” He swallowed hard before going on. “Why is the Chief Con involved? Is he an IBP supporter?”
The question took Craig aback and by the time he went to answer Liam had leapt in.
“There’s no way! He’s not supposed to have any political links, but I’ve seen him at a few GAA matches so if he did I’d say they’d be for Gorgeous Gloria’s side.”
Surprisingly Kyle agreed. Surprising because he rarely agreed with anyone, on principle.
“I had Flanagan checked out. He’s clean. Even the GAA matches he attended were for charity. He’s as politically neutral as someone can be, and he’s faithful to his wife, so there’s no sign that he’s been going to Lewis’ parties himself.”
Craig could have hugged the ex-spy, despite himself. He’d convinced himself that it wouldn’t matter to him if Sean Flanagan turned out to be a coke-snorting, womanising, right-wing acolyte, he would still like him, but he was bloody relieved that the man wasn’t and that he’d been right about him all along.
Liam conceded the point. “OK, so this bunch of fascists-”
Ash’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a bit strong.”
“Matter of opinion, but OK. This little clique is using Lewis’ fun parties as a cover to meet and discuss politics, in an environment where they can be positive they’re not bugged, there’ll be no reliable witnesses, and any that there are can be blackmailed to keep quiet.” Something occurred to him. “Here. Where are the politician’s security details while all this is going on?”
Davy shrugged. “Once they’ve checked out the host and swept the venue for weapons, my guess is they’ll be parked up s…somewhere in the grounds.”
Craig rose and opened the office door. “Aidan, can you join us, please. And grab a clean white board on your way.” He pressed the percolator on his way back to his chair and five minutes later they were staring at a newly marked-up board with coffees in their hands.
“OK. We know there’s a party this Saturday night, because Kyle’s snout is attending with Joshua Loughrey. We also know the most likely venue is here.” He tapped the position of Darrian’s estate. “If not there, then Liam will find us another venue down south. OK, Liam?”
He was answered by a nod.
“That means we’ll need at least one and perhaps more teams if we find other venues in the Republic, and three of them will need Gardaí members on Board.” He glanced at his watch. “This is Wednesday. That only gives us two days to locate all the venues, scope them and prep this operation-”
He was cut off by Aidan’s pen shooting up. “Which is?”
Liam was about to say, “bloody obvious” when Craig shook his head.
“Aidan’s right. We need to define exactly what the purpose of the operation is. It’s not purely information gathering, because all of you are doing that already, and it’s certainly not a Vice raid, or any type of raid. It’s…”
Davy clarified his thoughts. “It’s a confirmation exercise. To make sure that what w…we think is happening actually is.”
Craig nodded energetically. “Yes, but more than that. We’re the Murder Squad and we may find information on McManus’ and Regent’s killings, but I’ve a feeling that this is part of something far bigger and I’m hoping that we’ll find out what that is.”
Kyle looked puzzled but he would never ask for clarity. Liam had no such pride.
“Why? We’ve already decided they’re meeting to discuss voting out of the EU.”
Craig laughed. “If that’s all they wanted to talk about they could just go on TV. Even popstars are spouting off about Leav
e and Remain on the evening news.” He shook his head. “Yes, they want out, but it’s why that I’m interested in, and whether they’re planning to corrupt the public vote.”
This time Kyle spoke. “By exerting influence.”
“And by threatening IBP voters who might vote Remain. I think that’s why McManus had to go. Remember the IBP’s official slogan is ‘An Independent Britain in Europe’. McManus was a figurehead for IBP voters who wanted to stay in the EU, and that’s a big percentage vote. Possibly enough to swing the whole election here. With him gone and Roger Burke in place now, they have less than two weeks to swing IBP supporters towards a coherent anti-EU vote.”
Both Liam and Davy shook their heads.
“What if that doesn’t make a big enough difference?”
“For all we know killing McManus isn’t the only thing they’ve been doing, and we won’t know unless we can hear what’s being said. Meanwhile they could be pulling strings in other directions. All we know about is what they’re up to in Northern Ireland, but who knows what they’re up to in England, Scotland and Wales.”
Kyle found himself agreeing with Craig again. “The polls are all saying the referendum vote will be close. A few percent here and there could make all the difference.”
Craig wasn’t listening; he was too busy watching the analysts exchange a look.
“Penny for your thoughts, you two.”
Davy waved his friend on.
“Well, it’s just…we both agree that’s probably what’s going on, chief, though you’re right, we do need to get proof. But the question is, why? Why so hell bent on leaving the EU? I’m not saying leaving’s wrong, but right or wrong, is this just a bunch of people who hold an opinion and want to impose it on everyone else, in which case they must be pretty bloody minded about it to kill two men, or is it something bigger than that?”
No-one had an answer for him.
The Cabal (#16 - The Craig Crime Series) Page 21
