‘So . . .’ Yewdall smiled and spoke softly. ‘How does an easily survivable ten stretch for manslaughter sound? You’ll be out in five if you keep your nose clean and behave yourself. You can do that on your back, Charlie.’
‘Ten?’ Charlie Magg spoke for the first time. ‘You can fix that?’ he growled. ‘I mean, straight up. Ten, out in five?’
‘We can’t promise anything, Charlie,’ Penny Yewdall replied, ‘but we can put in a word to the CPS, in fact we already have. You see, Charlie, the guy you rolled, Terry “Stepney” Stevenson—’
‘He had it coming, well overdue for a kicking he was . . . well overdue.’ Magg spoke in a low, menacing voice. ‘I mean, well overdue.’
‘Yes, well that’s as may be, Charlie, but the point in your favour,’ Ainsclough explained, ‘the big point in your favour is that Stevenson is no friend of the CPS either. They have wanted him inside for as long as they have wanted you inside, Charlie, and it is not causing a great deal of distress to the civil servants of the CPS that he is very possibly about to become life extinct.’
‘Life extinct,’ Magg echoed, ‘that’s a new one on me.’
‘Not new, though,’ Yewdall explained. ‘The lawyers and medics use the term, but it’s not as though your victim was a man of the cloth or a doctor on his rounds. For that sort of victim there would be no deals . . . no mercy.’
‘Do me a favour.’ Magg glared at Yewdall. ‘I know the rules; I wouldn’t roll anyone like that. I know the rules, all right. I mean, I practically wrote them, but Stevenson was a blagger, and he helped himself to money that wasn’t his. He was skimming . . . very naughty . . . he should’ve known better.’
‘Probably it didn’t belong to the person he stole it from,’ Yewdall commented, ‘or else it was bent money, proceeds of crime.’
‘Both really.’ Magg shrugged. ‘There was some trading in white stuff, all got fairly divvied up and then Stevenson goes and sticks his paw in the pot and helps himself to thirty large . . . he’d already been given twenty large but that wasn’t enough for him. He reckoned he was owed the rest so he took it. So I was given five large to recover the thirty and give “Stepney” Stevenson a good hiding; a right good kicking so he’d learn.’
‘You did that all right,’ Ainsclough sighed. ‘You earned your money that day.’
‘They wanted me to learn him not to do it again,’ Magg replied. ‘So I earned my money. So what?’
‘It’s highly likely he won’t be doing anything again.’
‘So I’ve got five thousand pounds in the Post Office to come out to.’
‘Which brings us very neatly back to why we are here, Charlie,’ Yewdall leaned back in her chair. ‘Are you going to spend it in twenty years’ time or in five years’ time?’
Magg looked at Yewdall. ‘Five years?’
‘It’s possible.’ Yewdall nodded. ‘It’s on the table as a possibility.’
‘But no guarantees,’ Ainsclough emphasized. ‘If you put your hand up to involuntary manslaughter, collect ten years, play the game, you could be out in five . . . and that’s if we put in a good word for you; tell the CPS how cooperative you were with a major investigation. The CPS will inform the judge and request leniency, so a ten stretch with the possibility of parole is a real possibility.’
Magg relaxed his posture, also leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and said, ‘So what is it you want to know about?’
‘Tell us about Arnie Rainbird, Charlie,’ Yewdall asked. ‘We know a little about him but we sense there is much, much more we don’t know. He seems a bit of a shadowy figure, iceberg-like, most of him is hidden from view, but his bulk is massive.’
Charlie Magg drew a deep breath.
‘Do you have problems with that, Charlie?’ Tom Ainsclough leaned forward. ‘Do you have problems telling us about Arnie Rainbird?’
Charlie Magg nodded. ‘Too right I do, I reckon that I’m a bit of a “life’s worth” when it comes to grassing up Arnie Rainbird; too right I am worried.’
‘More than your life is worth, you mean?’ Again Penny Yewdall absent-mindedly chewed the plastic cover of the tip of her ballpoint pen.
‘Yes.’ Charlie Magg raised his head. ‘That’s exactly what I mean. Arnie Rainbird is heap bad medicine and he has long, long tentacles, I won’t be safe anywhere. He has eyes and ears everywhere.’
‘Witness protection, Charlie.’ Yewdall placed her pen on her notepad. ‘It’s a possibility, new life, new ID. It works and the offer is there.’
‘Won’t work for me.’ Charlie Magg raised his eyebrows. ‘It won’t work for me if Arnie Rainbird is after me. I haven’t seen Arnie in years but he knows me, I know him. I don’t work for him any more, not on a permanent basis, but he can still use me for jobs.’
‘Like turning “Stepney” Stevenson’s face into a pulp?’
Magg shrugged. ‘Maybe . . . occasional work like that.’
‘A lot of blaggers find the thought of a new life appealing, Charlie,’ Ainsclough prompted. ‘Surprised you don’t.’
Charlie Magg remained silent.
‘We’ve talked about a twenty stretch being reduced to ten and out in five. The whole lot could be made to go away . . . all of it,’ Penny Yewdall pressed, ‘all of it, if you’ll sign a statement and clamber into the witness box.’
‘It’s not so simple.’ Charlie Magg smiled. ‘I mean, I wish it was, I really wish I could sign a statement and climb into the witness box but Arnie Rainbird . . . he’s part Italian despite his English name, got family in Italy . . . Milan, I think, and by family I don’t mean regular Italians, I mean Cosa Nostra.’
‘The Mafia!’ Ainsclough gasped.
‘You got it right, the Italian Mafia; so he’s connected, but it’s not just that, it’s also that he cut his teeth in Italy. He learned a few things, like if you want to take revenge you ice the target’s family, not the target.’
‘Oh . . .’ Penny Yewdall put her hand to her mouth.
‘You see my problem?’ Charlie Magg appealed to the two officers. ‘I have three brothers and a sister, both my parents had six brothers and sisters, all of them married, and each had two or three children; I have about thirty cousins and one will be iced if I grass on Rainbird and go into witness protection and if not iced, then ruined in some other way.’ Charlie Magg paused. ‘I mean, my little sister, she works in a bank believe it or not, she doesn’t know what I got up to. She suspects but she doesn’t know. If I grass on Arnie Rainbird he’ll have her tongue cut out to learn me for grassing him up, that’s Arnie Rainbird. So if you offer me witness protection you have to offer it to an entire tribe and that’s if they’ll all agree to it.’
‘Fair enough, Charlie,’ Ainsclough replied softly, ‘I see your problem.’
‘So, supposing I do help you, like off the record.’ Charlie Magg laid his two massive, nicotine-stained paws on the highly polished table top. ‘No statements, just talk within these four walls; could you still help me? I mean, look at me, I am fifty years old, I’ll be seventy when I get out.’
‘It’s a possibility,’ Penny Yewdall replied, ‘basic physics: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The more you help us, the more we can help you.’
‘Yes . . . yes . . . I understand that and, at my age, you wonder how much time you’ve got left.’ Charlie Magg shook his head. ‘I can’t spend the last years of my life on the inside; I should be making the most of it down the boozer, playing darts, spending the occasional day in Ramsgate, getting some sea air into my bellows.’
‘That’s the ticket, Charlie.’ Ainsclough smiled. ‘Now you’re starting to use your loaf. So, Arnie Rainbird, he’s been very quiet, what’s his game? What’s he into?’
‘Into?’
‘Where’s his money coming from?’ Yewdall explained.
Magg glanced to his left and then leaned forward. ‘Practically everything and anything if it makes money, but lately I hear he’s moved into people smuggling. It’s the lat
est business to be in, there is good money to be made and do-it-on-your-back sentences. He was into cocaine and heroin but moved out of that to smuggle people. The profits are the same as for smuggling white powder but the maximum sentence is just four years, though Arnie won’t do any time as he never lets himself get close enough to the action. He was blackmailing teachers when he was at school, then ran protection rackets. He battered his way up but he also used his loaf.’ Magg tapped the side of his head. ‘He always used this.’
‘Battered?’
‘Yes, battered. Arnie Rainbird is well handy in a scuffle, keeps himself fit, got his own gym.’
‘He was a minder?’
‘He was,’ Charlie Magg replied, seeming to the officers to be beginning to relax into a conversation once the rules had been set down. ‘He was a casual heavy; he didn’t just protect his boss. If the boss wanted to put the old squeeze on a citizen, well, then he’d use Arnie Rainbird . . . Arnie was your man.’
‘So he was a bit like you in that respect,’ Tom Ainsclough said drily. ‘I mean a bit like you put the squeeze on “Stepney” Stevenson?’
‘A bit.’ Magg shrugged. ‘What can I say?’
‘So who was Arnie Rainbird’s boss?’
‘“Legs” Connolly.’
Yewdall and Ainsclough glanced curiously at each other.
‘It’s OK.’ Charlie Magg smiled. ‘This goes way back; I mean so way back you wouldn’t have heard of “Legs” Connolly. “Legs” Connolly was old when you were learning to use a knife and fork but he’ll be in your files. So Arnie Rainbird was in “Legs” Connolly’s firm. They did armed robbery in the main, that’s where Arnie learned his skills when he came back from Italy. They did security vans, especially the collecting vans; the delivery vans carrying the wages, well, they always carry new notes in sequence; have to wash them before you can use them. That is a nuisance and it can be pricey, but the collecting vans, they just take till takings to the bank, all used notes, didn’t need washing, still don’t.’ Charlie Magg paused. ‘It could get a bit rough, it could get a bit like cowboys holding up stagecoaches in the Old West, but we were up for it and that’s where I first met Arnie Rainbird. So, anyway, “Legs” Connolly disappeared, didn’t he?’
‘Don’t know,’ Penny Yewdall replied, ‘did he?’
‘You can bet your life he did.’ Charlie Magg smiled. ‘He was offed, iced; it’s the way of it when top villains go missing, it’s always because they have been chilled. Always. Any blagger really, but especially the top villains.’
‘Seems so.’ Penny Yewdall nodded her head gently. ‘It does seem to be the case; a missing villain is a dead villain.’
‘But by then Arnie Rainbird was a rising star. I was taking orders from him even though we started out together. By the time “Legs” Connolly vanished, Arnie Rainbird was getting a nice, well-earned reputation for being an evil swine of a villain. I mean, by then Arnie was collecting victims like they were going out of fashion; I mean, collecting them like there was no tomorrow. You know how it is in the other world.’
‘The other world, Charlie?’ Penny Yewdall asked. ‘What other world?’
‘The other world to your world, darling,’ Charlie Magg whispered as though he feared a hidden microphone was in the agent’s room. ‘You don’t get in and move up except in two ways: you do bird, you get some jail time under your belt, it’s that what gives you street cred, it means you are not some cardboard cut-out. If you have no street cred you’re just a cardboard cut-out and you never get to be anything but a gofer.’
‘Fair enough.’ Ainsclough nodded. ‘I can understand that. So what’s the second way?’
‘The other way, the other way up.’ Charlie Magg once again looked nervously to his left and right and lowered his voice as if fearing a hidden microphone. ‘Well the other way up is the way Arnie Rainbird did it. You take a scalp, then you take another scalp . . . you take a few scalps.’
‘You murder?’ Penny Yewdall sought clarification. ‘You take life . . . you kill?’
‘Yes.’ Charlie Magg once again glanced to his left and right. ‘That’s the second way, and that’s how Arnie Rainbird got into “Legs” Connolly’s firm and that’s how he moved up the ladder. He was just very good with his fists and with his feet; handy in an argument, like I said. Well handy. He would be right in there with his fists, and putting the wellie well in; turn some old warrior’s face to mush by stamping on him.’
‘Again, not unlike you and your victim, Charlie.’ Tom Ainsclough raised his eyebrows. ‘Seems like you and Arnie Rainbird are like peas in a pod.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Charlie Magg sneered, ‘so if that’s the case what am I doing in here and he’s out there living the good life? Naw, he rose, I didn’t; he owns houses, yachts . . . and all I have got to show is five large in the Post Office. We are not so much alike, me and Arnie, not alike at all.’ Magg sighed. ‘You need to do more than I did if you want to move up. I mean, just put a Turk in hospital, even if you put him on a life-support machine for a week or two . . . that won’t get you very far up.’
‘A month or two,’ Yewdall coldly corrected Maggs. ‘He’s been in a coma for ten weeks.’
‘Still doesn’t cut it,’ Magg replied equally coldly. ‘You have to take a scalp, deliberate like. If Stevenson dies it wasn’t intentional on my part. You need to take a scalp intentionally, deliberately.’
‘That’s how Arnie Rainbird got started?’
‘Yes.’ Charlie Magg shifted position in his chair and once again looked around as he leaned forward and spoke in a near whisper. ‘Yes, that’s it. You have to take a scalp. Arnie Rainbird got noticed, so the story goes, when “Legs” Connolly wanted this geezer iced; he gave Arnie a chance to prove himself. So he sends Arnie and two blokes as his escort out to do the business. So this geezer is living in a flat in a council high-rise, isn’t he, living with his old lady, just him and her, no kids to worry about making things untidy. So Arnie and a couple of boys went to this earthling’s drum one night about midnight and they got through the front door like it wasn’t there. The old lady starts to kick off, so Arnie Rainbird slaps her and she becomes very cooperative, most silent.’
‘Because she’s been knocked out?’ Penny Yewdall commented drily. ‘I know what sort of slap you mean.’
Charlie Magg shrugged. ‘Then Arnie slaps the boy, but him, the boy, him he keeps awake, it’s Arnie’s way of doing things. Arnie Rainbird keeps his victims awake so they know what’s happening to them, keeps them conscious right up to the end.’
‘That’s interesting.’ Yewdall turned to Ainsclough. ‘The skulls . . . they were not damaged.’ Then she turned to Charlie Magg. ‘Sorry, Charlie, carry on, you are doing well for yourself.’
‘All right.’ Charlie Magg seemed to focus his thoughts and continued. ‘So . . . well . . . Arnie Rainbird and the two escorts truss this soldier up, I mean truss him well up, very neatly using cable ties to keep his wrists fastened behind his back and then push both ankles under the wrists. Can’t get out of that, the ankles pull against the cable ties. No one can free themselves from that little old number. Then they wait . . . real calm like, watch a bit of late-night television. Then, at about two in the morning, they give the old lady another slap because she has woken up and is starting to make noises, but before that Arnie Rainbird gives a little advice about what will happen to her if she identifies anyone in a police line up.’ Magg paused. ‘Then they wait a bit more, and then they drag out the geezer, who is well out of luck, and by this time he knows it, I mean, he has messed himself something rotten and is making many pleading sounds, until Arnie puts some sticky tape across his north and south, thereafter he is most silent.’
‘So you were told, Charlie.’ Yewdall clasped her hands together and rested them on the table top. ‘I mean you were definitely not one of the two redcoats who were provided as Arnie Rainbird’s escort?’
Charlie Magg smiled and winked at Yewdall.
‘Just get on with the
story, Charlie,’ Tom Ainsclough prompted, ‘you’re doing well.’
‘All right . . . all right, so after two of the clock in the forenoon and once the late film is over, Arnie Rainbird and the escorts drag this old geezer out of his flat and along the corridor to the lift shaft, and the poor old shaking, quivering sod is bunged into the lift and up they go to the top floor, twelve storeys.’
‘High enough,’ Yewdall commented.
‘It’s the way Arnie wanted it. So on the top floor there is a steel ladder going up the wall to a trap door and the roof, and the trap door is always kept padlocked. No problem because Arnie did a recce the night before and has with him a very handy pair of bolt cutters, and then the padlock is no more. So they put a rope round the geezer’s neck, haul him up to the roof and carry him to the edge of the roof, where below him is all of London Town very like a Christmas tree with many lights shining. So Arnie props the boy up and lets him have a last look at all the lovely lights and the buses and cars on the road, then the boys step back and leave it to Arnie Rainbird. The boys are there to help and to witness but the last bit is down to Arnie Rainbird if he wants to make a name for himself, if he wants to rise then he’s on his Jack Jones for the last bit. It’s just the rule of the game.’
‘OK,’ Tom Ainsclough said, ‘understood.’
‘So Arnie Rainbird pushes the boy to the edge, so by this time he’s lying on his side facing outwards and Arnie leaves him like that for a few minutes, then he gently rolls him over the edge and the geezer is well topped. Very well topped indeed. That was Arnie Rainbird’s first scalp.’
‘You’re being very informative.’ Penny Yewdall smiled. ‘You can’t be frightened of Mr Rainbird.’
‘Hey.’ Charlie Magg held up his huge, fleshy hand. ‘We agreed, I sign nothing. Anything I tell you is just between you and me. I’m helping myself as much as I can short of grassing Arnie Rainbird up. I am not giving evidence.’
The Garden Party Page 9
