by Karl Holton
Paddy sighed. “We’ve seen how this guy works. He’ll fire a single bullet out of the sunrise at the target … he’s not going to automatic fire into a crowd.”
“How do you propose we force him towards Speaker’s Corner?”
“I propose that we flood Hyde Park and all high rises around the park with your men except for the northeast near Speaker’s Corner. This will force him into this area and if he buys what the informant says he’ll be focused on a spot there anyway.”
Dawson nodded. “But if he realises it’s a decoy and he finds somewhere to shoot from then he will be shooting westwards … towards Kensington Palace.”
Benedict pinched his nose and then rested his hand on his beard. “Exactly.”
Paddy rocked his stance. “It’s well over a kilometre from Speaker’s Corner to the Diana memorial and there’s no vantage point in the northeast. So if we get him he’ll have no shot.”
Dawson returned to his seat and stared at Benedict. “I assume you and the team will have weapons on you.”
“Yes, we will,” Paddy said, not allowing Benedict to answer. “Unless you think it’s wise to go to a gun fight with our thumbs up our arses.”
Dawson’s eyes tightened on Paddy. “I’m wondering whether it’s sensible of me to allow you into a Royal Park with a weapon at all,” he steamed. “Our men could do this job and secure the target without any help.”
Paddy stepped forward. “We have a deadly sniper and an organisation with a unit of men that attacked and killed with assault rifles in Essex without getting scratched. Do your MI5 wimps have that type of combat experience?”
Dawson stood up. “Of course MI5 have the men to do this. We’ve moved on from needing foot soldiers to storm buildings. It’s a long time since you and your mates yomped across the Falklands, Paddy.”
Paddy went to move forwards. You ignorant piece of shit … you have no idea.
Benedict stood up and stepped into the fray. “Hanson wants us to secure Tommy Gibbs and interview him … it may have a bearing on the project we’re working on and we’re going to bring him immediately to Narrow Street. That’s what Paddy will try to do,” he said, holding the big man’s arm but realising he couldn’t move it. “Our objective will be to have zero weapon fire … we all agree on that.”
Dawson turned his glare to Benedict, which softened. “Yes, I’d assumed there was something more to this than a ‘drug dealer’.”
“We don’t have much time and if we want to get this right we need to start planning and agreeing exactly what we’re doing,” Benedict said, deliberately allowing his voice to calm things down.
Dawson moved the small mouse on his desk, lighting up his screen. “First things first … I need to discover which members of the royal family are at home in Kensington Palace and get them to go elsewhere.”
Paddy sniffed. “Do they have another house to go to or shall I call the local Premier Inn?”
Chapter 53
Day 12
Hotel George V, Paris
6.11 a.m. GMT (7.11 a.m. Local)
Moraru’s bodyguard opened the door of the hotel suite to the delivery of breakfast. The smiling face of the young man pushing the trolley was met by the stern look from the guard. The smile disappeared.
The guard handed him a ten euro note and ushered him out of the room. He then pushed the trolley around to a separate part of the suite with a large table where Moraru was sitting.
Moraru had a newspaper open on the table. He turned a page forward as the guard placed the breakfast in front of him in silence. The guard poured a cup of coffee and then returned to his position near the suite door.
Yesterday, a man named Bas had turned up at the hotel and brought him a painting telling him he’d receive a phone call. Fifteen minutes later Urna had contacted him and explained that this was their offering to show their trust.
The painting was sitting on a large table against a wall facing him.
He reached over and pulled a piece of the brioche off, dipped it in the coffee and placed it in his mouth. Staring at the painting, he licked his lips.
Fifty million euro.
This was the number Urna had given him as a conservative value of the painting. He’d gone to Google on his computer and searched for sales by the artist and been left smiling at the numbers. There had not been many sales but each one around these dimensions had been at a figure that made Urna’s figure plausible.
He knew what he had to do the moment he’d seen it. He found the two main art institutes and called them and discovered their best experts. He’d then called an independent art dealer and asked which one they felt was the primary expert; he called them. After a short discussion they’d agreed on a fee of four thousand euro in cash for an informal meeting with an authentication and valuation. The expert was due to turn up at the hotel now.
Last night, he’d celebrated his endeavours with the most expensive prostitute that could be found in Paris.
There was a light knock on the door. He heard the guard talking and stood up and walked around the corner to meet the guest. The man had walked into the suite but was struggling to take his gaze off the guard.
Moraru held out a hand. “Monsieur Séverin?”
Séverin turned to him. “Are you Mister Peter Odina?”
Moraru smiled at the easy use of the alias he’d adopted since arriving in Paris. He knew he needed to put Séverin at ease. “How are things at the Institute?”
“Yes, very good, thank you.”
Moraru touched his arm. “What are you working on at the moment? I’m sure it’s something very important.”
“A new ‘Catalogue Raisonné’ for some of the less well-known impressionists,” Séverin said. “The ones I’m focused on right now are Boudin and Tissot.”
“Have you found anything new to add yet?”
Séverin laughed. “Yes, we have a few items that could be right. It takes up a lot of the time. It can take years to get these things right —”
“Very good,” said Moraru, already getting bored with the chat. He pulled out an envelope from his jacket and handed it to Séverin. “This is for you.”
The expert nodded and opened it to count the eight five hundred euro notes inside. “Perfect. Can you show me the piece?”
“Please, this way,” Moraru said, showing him around the corner where the painting came into view.
The two men walked together towards it. Séverin stopped about two metres away and tipped his head.
Moraru stepped closer and turned to see Séverin smiling.
Séverin pointed at the large window. “Would you mind opening the curtains a little further?”
Moraru asked the guard to do it with the nod of his head. As he moved them the early morning sun flooded even further into the room, brightening the space with white light.
The expert moved forward, his eyes scanning the whole painting with a broad smile. He was silent for a minute letting it flow over him. “It really is beautiful, Mr Odina.”
Moraru released the breath he was holding in his chest. “Thank you … what can you tell me about it?”
“What would you like to know?”
“How much would you say it’s worth?”
Séverin shrugged. “It’s very difficult, Mr Odina … obviously, as an original it would be tens of millions.”
Moraru smiled at him.
Séverin stepped forward, pointing at the painting. “But this copy, although very good and by someone with true mastery, is —”
Moraru raised a straight finger to his lips to stop Séverin speaking. “Copy?”
“Oh yes, didn’t you know?” Séverin said. “It’s a beautiful copy. Obviously, I know who owns the original and if you were interested in purchasing it I would be happy in broking this for you. We’ve tried to purchase it many times but the owner is … well let’s just say that he rarely sells.”
Moraru’s face reddened as he walked over to the window clenching his fists. “You
know where the original of this painting is at the moment?”
“If it’s where the owner has had it for years then … yes,” Séverin said, turning to Moraru. “It’s in Dubai.”
Chapter 54
Day 12
Serenity, Hyde Park, London
8.25 a.m.
Benedict and Wallace faced north towards the Serpentine, the lake in Hyde Park. Her nervousness was evident as she kept moving her head, jolting around as she scanned everyone.
The tall green sculpture named Serenity in front of them was the meeting point set by Tommy Gibbs. He looked up at the curvy bird-shaped monument. “Do you know why he called it a goddess?”
She shrugged. “I don’t give a shit.” Her hand went inside her coat and touched the flak jacket as she exhaled. It’s too hot to wear all this.
His eyes closed as he faced eastwards allowing the rising sun to dance through his eyelids.
Just to their left a young girl ran past them and shouted at her mother; ‘Mummy, it’s a Swan’. The girl ran up and touched the bird-like goddess sitting beside the lake, close to the Diana Memorial Fountain.
They both had a covert earpiece enabling them to speak to Paddy and his team if they pressed them. Paddy was standing closer to the lake, about ten metres away wearing sunglasses. He was looking through a large set of binoculars trying to be inconspicuous, but failing.
“Andre the Giant sticks out like a sore thumb,” Wallace muttered.
There was a team of men and women in the park, which Paddy had spread out across the view.
Benedict turned to her. “If this all goes mad, stick with Paddy.”
“What are you going to be doing?” she asked.
“I’m gonna stand behind the only thing bigger than Paddy in this park,” he said, looking around. “That Swan.”
They both laughed but felt it; the taut tension in their stomach.
Benedict looked towards the car park, then back to Wallace. “Just remember …”
“Keep moving … yes I do recall hearing Paddy say this to me for the fourth time this morning.” Her right hand went under her arm and confirmed the position of her gun.
Benedict felt his phone vibrate. The caller ID was Dawson.
“The roofs are covered,” Dawson said. “There’s nothing north or south that we don’t have eyes on. To the west we have men around Kensington Palace and the gardens all the way to the pond. To the east we have everything covered except the northern corner as agreed. Watkins is in place monitoring everything there … with Rowe.”
“What about the park?” he asked.
“As we planned, the car park near you has closed ten minutes ago, the two galleries near you are closed and we have men at them. All the bars are closed.”
Benedict spotted a family walking towards the fountain. “There’s still quite a few people around.”
“We’ve limited it as much as we can, but we cannot empty the place. We talked about this – there’s just no way of closing it off completely,” Dawson explained. “Anyway, most of the people you can see right now are MI5.”
Benedict thought about cracking a joke about austerity and MI5 hiring children but he held his tongue.
“There’s not much more than we can do until this starts to play out,” Dawson said.
“Ok, call if anyone sees anything,” said Benedict, terminating the call.
Wallace looked at him. “MI5?”
Benedict nodded as he noticed Paddy had been static for a few seconds with his binoculars pointed east towards the sun. Paddy dropped his hands but kept staring in that direction.
Benedict and Wallace took a few steps towards Serenity. The earpiece clicked in their ears.
“There’s something wrong,” said Paddy, still staring east.
Benedict started walking towards Paddy and signalled for Wallace to stand still. She stood beside the sculpture as he walked towards him, raising a hand to provide a shadow across his eyes.
Paddy had the look of a silver-back who’d caught a scent in the air getting ready to charge. “Oxley, are you still at the east end of the Serpentine close to Park Lane?”
Everyone heard their earpiece click.
“Yep,” said Oxley. “We’ve got three down here.”
“I think you all need to move, quickly,” said Paddy. “Go east.”
Benedict stood to Paddy’s right. “What’s wrong big man?”
Paddy pointed eastwards. “That’s what’s wrong … it’s the only building that might see Speaker’s Corner that’s overlooking us here. If this guy has more than one informant in the police, it would cover both options.”
Benedict had considered this possibility. He moved his hand position to enable his eyes to adjust to the light and shade. They focused on the tall building in the distance. “That’s a long way away, Paddy.”
Paddy had pointed at the London Hilton Hotel about one point five kilometres away on Park Lane. He looked down at Benedict. “I could shoot you from that building with the rifle he has.”
Chapter 55
Day 12
West Carriage Drive, Hyde Park, London
8.28 a.m.
Tommy rubbed the palm of his left hand with the tips of the fingers of his right hand. He was trying to remember the last time he’d touched his children, but the fear inside was rampaging through him ripping at his memories.
He’d been parked in this disabled bay for twenty minutes. Across the street the police had started blocking traffic going to the car park closer to the meeting place.
It would take a minute to walk to the statue.
Outside, a few pedestrians had been walking past the car. A few people had noticed where he was parked and that he wasn’t showing a disabled badge. He’d seen a traffic warden walking around checking the cars but he hadn’t noticed her for a few minutes.
He twisted over his arm and his watch had the same time. He opened the car door and immediately a hand appeared on it. He recognised the warden’s blue coat. Shit.
“Sir, you’re parked in a disabled bay … do you have a badge?” she said. The warden was holding the door with her standing beside the vehicle, stopping him getting out.
Tommy turned away and sighed, reaching over to pick up his mobile, feeling his neck twinge. “Look, lady, I have to move.”
“Sir, you need to show me the badge enabling you to park here. I let you stay here because I was waiting for you to show your badge.”
Tommy tried to turn to the right to see her, but she was standing up straight and hidden. “You can give me a ticket, I don’t give a shit, but I have to go … now.” He pushed the door with his thigh and felt it being held shut. He pushed harder turning his shoulder into the door which started to move it. “Oi, fuck off and let —”
Everything went dark.
Tommy hadn’t noticed the warden’s other hand bring the syringe into the car and push the needle into his neck.
Chapter 56
Day 12
Serenity, Hyde Park, London
8.29 a.m.
Benedict and Paddy stared at the London Hilton Hotel in the distance. The sun was making it difficult for Benedict to maintain his position; he raised his arms again to provide shade. Shot profile … he’ll fire with the sun behind him, he thought.
In their earpieces everyone could hear Oxley running, taking in huge breaths.
Paddy didn’t move. He put a huge hand over his mouth as he thought. “We’ve swarmed all over this park and if I wanted to do this I’d see all these MI5 people no problem. I wouldn’t be near this area if I wanted to get away.”
Benedict looked up at him. “Do you think this guy could hit a target from that hotel?”
Paddy stayed focused on the hotel. “Do you really think Rowe might be their only police informant?”
The two men looked at each other.
Benedict’s mobile vibrated. It was Dawson.
“Yes?”
“One of my people has found an unconscious person near th
e Serpentine Gallery just to the east of you and they think it’s a traffic warden.”
“Get everyone moving to the parking area,” Benedict said.
“There’s more … the phone Tommy called you on has just been turned on. It’s on the West Carriage Drive in the same direction.”
“Get your team there now,” he said, looking up at Paddy as he closed the call. His mind tried to calculate what it meant. He felt himself turn to face Wallace, noticing a tourist holding a London map walking towards her from behind.
She shrugged at Benedict. “What is it?”
Benedict grabbed Paddy’s arm, realising he couldn’t pull him. “Tommy’s coming from behind us.”
Paddy put a huge hand on his shoulder. “From where?”
Wallace felt the phone vibrate in her hand. She looked to see a new message from an unknown number. ‘Disabled Parking’. She held up the screen towards Benedict, who was trying to pull Paddy in her direction. She sensed the approach of the tourist over her right shoulder and turned her head to face them.
“Excuse me, Miss,” said the Tourist in a German accent. “Can you tell where to go to Science Museum?” The man smiled broadly at her in expectation of an answer. He was wearing a Union Jack cap and held up a hand to shade his eyes.
“Let’s go,” Benedict shouted, towards Wallace as he and Paddy started to move towards her.
Wallace already had the tourist’s map in her free hand. She helped straighten it so she could point south towards the museum as she returned his smile. The pop sound she heard was loud but it was the shock of the blood splashing across her face and down onto the map that made her legs buckle. She collapsed against the statue.
The headless tourist hit the ground as screams shattered the morning peace.
A second later Paddy was picking her up. He’d gripped her in a way that meant she hardly sensed him running as he calmly spoke in her ear; “It’s ok … I’ve got you.”
Chapter 57
