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Ultimate Justice

Page 5

by M A Comley


  “Fair enough.” Her father’s words surprised her. Then he changed the subject, which surprised her even more. “What’s for dinner tonight? If you two are going out, I can fix myself something, it’s no bother.”

  “I’ll get out a couple of lamb chops for you and peel some veg before we go, if that’s all right.”

  Her father gave a slight nod and seemed happy with her choice. He turned around and left the kitchen, heading back to his bedroom.

  “Well, that was weird,” she said after hearing his door close. “I expected him to kick up a fuss. He hates journalists more than I hate black pudding.”

  “Maybe he has other things on his mind.”

  Hmm…‌like what?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The drive into London went easier than expected; Lorne surmised that maybe partygoers stayed away from the City during the week and let rip only at the weekend. However, when they finally located the wine bar where Lorne had arranged to meet Croft, it was bustling with activity. Lorne scanned the dozens of full tables, and after a few seconds made eye contact with Croft. The Ferret had burrowed himself into a dark corner at the back of the bar—was that on purpose? As they approached his table, Lorne watched the smile on his face slip and give way to a scowl when he saw Tony walking behind her.

  “Derek.”

  “Lorne. Who’s this? I thought we’d be meeting alone,” Croft said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Sorry, did I forget to mention that I’d be bringing along my partner? Tony Warner, meet journalist Derek Croft.”

  Neither of the men held out a hand to shake the other’s, and Croft eyed Tony with caution. The Ferret felt trapped. Lorne pushed down a snigger that was threatening to escape.

  “Partner in what, exactly? I heard you left the Met a couple of years ago.”

  “Ah, in a few things, actually. In life as well as two businesses, one of which is a private investigation firm.”

  Croft cracked a smile. “For real? Like Magnum P.I. type of thing?”

  Lorne shrugged. “If you like. Right, enough of the small talk. Let’s get down to it, shall we?”

  “Yeah, I’m dying to know why you rang me. Although, things are starting to lock into place now.”

  “I read your article on the human trafficking incident you witnessed the other day. How did you get away with writing a story like that, Derek?”

  “My contact on the street told me it was going down, so I ran it past my boss and he told me to get on it.”

  Tony asked, “You do know the type of people you’re dealing with here, don’t you?”

  Croft looked at Tony as if he’d just escaped from an asylum. He pointed his thumb in Tony’s direction and asked Lorne, “Is he for real?”

  Lorne’s hand instinctively sought out Tony’s wrist to prevent him giving Croft a bop on the nose. “It was a serious question, Derek. Do you know who you’re dealing with?”

  “Yeah. Scum! Scum of the earth. That’s why I intend bringing the fuckers down.”

  “That’s commendable of you, but also more than a tad foolish,” Lorne said, smiling at him.

  “Yeah I know, but needs must. Why are you so interested in the case anyway?”

  “I’m not. No, that’s a lie. I’m interested in finding out a little more about what you know, but basically I’m more interested in a different case. I have an inkling that the two cases are probably connected.”

  “Not sure I’m following you,” Croft said.

  “The ship that capsized at the beginning of the week—my instincts tell me that we’re looking at a human trafficking operation. It’s yet to be confirmed, of course, but—”

  “But you have firsthand experience in such cases, and your antenna is urging you to get involved,” he finished the sentence for her.

  Lorne laughed. “You know, Derek, for a hard-nosed journo writing a load of bullshit most of the time, you can be quite perceptive when you want to be.”

  “Yeah, I have many different faces. I’m kinda like you in that respect.”

  Lorne knew he wasn’t insulting her and that his assumption was accurate enough; at least it used to be, when she was on the force. Not so much nowadays, but if the need arose, then she could and would easily revert back to her old ways. “You’re probably right. What do you say, then? Are you willing to pool our information to crack the case?”

  He drifted off for a second or two as he thought over her plan. “It depends.”

  “On what, exactly?” Lorne asked. He smirked, and an unwelcome shiver ran up her spine. Despite his boyish good looks, there was something intensely creepy about Croft. However, she’d already decided that she would be willing to put aside her uneasiness in order to get the information she needed.

  “On what information you’ve got. So far, I think my contacts have come up with a lot, but like I said, it depends what you can throw into the pot.”

  “I’m waiting on a couple of calls. I’m not willing to divulge what I have so far—” She stopped talking and her mouth dropped open when Croft thrust out of his chair and headed for the door. What the fuck was that all about?

  Tony was the first out of his chair, with Lorne close behind him. They caught up with the Ferret, who had set off like a greyhound in the car park outside. Croft made it to his car and had inserted the key in the driver’s door before they caught up with him. Annoyed that the journalist had walked out on them mid-conversation, Tony pinned Croft against the side of his car, and Lorne did nothing to stop her husband.

  “Get your filthy hands off me,” Croft said, more out of shock than anger.

  “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to walk out when someone is talking to you?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow and his forearm tight across Croft’s throat.

  “Fuck off. We’re here to swap information, so far that ain’t happening, is it?” Croft managed to say through a restricted windpipe.

  Tony jabbed him in the stomach with a clenched fist. Croft coughed and spluttered, glancing at Lorne for help. She folded her arms and stared back at him. “Did I forget to mention that Tony is ex-MI6? Silly me. Shall we try and start this meeting again in a calm and friendly manner? What do you say, Croft?”

  “Call the gorilla off, and I’ll think about it.”

  Lorne noticed a tremble had developed in Croft’s voice. She nodded for Tony to let go of him. Croft straightened his jacket and rubbed his throat with his hand.

  “Why don’t we sit in your car and finish our conversation?”

  Croft glared at Tony as he spoke. “On one condition. He sits up front with me where I can keep an eye on him.”

  “I can do that,” Tony replied with a grin.

  Croft pressed the button on his key fob and the car unlocked with a clunk. The three of them got in, the two men in the front and Lorne behind the passenger seat so Croft could talk directly to her without wondering what she was up to behind his back.

  Lorne started the conversation off. “If you had let me finish, I was going to say that I’m not willing to divulge what I have at the moment because things are a little sketchy and I wouldn’t want to muddy the water.”

  “Ah, then that’s different. Sorry for any misunderstanding.”

  Lorne smiled at Croft, appreciating his apology. “Have you had any feedback from anyone about the story you ran?”

  Croft laughed. “By ‘feedback,’ I take it you mean threatening calls. Yeah, I’ve had a couple of those. Which only goes to prove that I’m on to something big.”

  “I’d say you’ve more than rattled a few cages. Can I ask why you ran the story? Naming names the way you did?”

  “To be honest, I was in a no-win situation—either I ran the story, or my boss was going to fire me.”

  Tony whistled. “Nice boss. So now your life is permanently in danger.”

  Croft’s nose screwed up. “I wouldn’t say that. I can deal with these guys. I’ve dealt with scummier dirtbags than these over the years.”
r />   Lorne couldn’t believe the naïvety of the man. “What kind of threats have they issued? I take it we’re talking about over the phone?” Croft nodded, so Lorne continued, “Were the calls to your mobile or your landline?”

  “Both,” he said, and shrugged as though it didn’t bother him.

  “Have you noticed anyone following you?”

  Croft shook his head. “You worry too much. I’ll be fine. Once the police have rounded these dirtbags up and locked them away, things will be cool again.”

  “You really don’t have a clue how these things work, do you? Mess with one guy, and he has a whole army of men under him. I doubt very much if you’ll ever bring down the top man, because one of his soldiers will always put himself forward to take the rap—at a cost, of course. He and his family will be taken care of until the day he’s released from prison. We’re talking a multi-billion dollar business here, and as we all know, money talks.”

  “Nah, you’re wrong. The names I’ve been given are small fry.”

  “You’ve not listened to a word my wife has said, have you?” Tony shook his head and sneered at the Ferret.

  Croft thought about this for a few seconds before a light bulb appeared to spark to life in his brain. “So what you’re saying is that we need to find out who the organ grinder is to the operation.”

  At last, the penny drops and you call yourself an investigative journalist. “What’s happening next on your end?”

  “I don’t understand,” Croft said, perplexed.

  “Are you supposed to be running a follow-up story? Have you been back to the warehouse where you saw the girls being unloaded to see if there has been any more activity?” Lorne asked, letting out a heavy breath.

  “Well, Moon—that’s my boss—wants me to run another story at the end of next week. It’s Thursday today, and he wants the next installment on his desk seven days from now, at the latest, ready for Friday’s edition.”

  “Where do you get your information?” Lorne asked him.

  He tapped his nose and winked at her. “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? It’s accurate, that’s all you need to know.”

  Before either Lorne or Tony could question him further, the sound of screeching tyres filled the car. Lorne had just turned to look out of the back window when she felt the impact. Shouting broke out inside the vehicle as it was forced forward. The black tinted windows of the four-by-four blocked out the identity of their attacker. Everything appeared to happen in slow motion, until the front of Croft’s car connected with the rear wall of the wine bar. The last thing Lorne heard was a sickening crunch.

  • • •

  Lorne had no idea how long she’d been unconscious, a man’s scream jolted her awake. “What the…?”

  The inside of the car was dimly lit by the streetlight to the left of them, and the first thing that caught her eye was the way the bonnet of the car had concertinaed and was now positioned halfway up the windscreen. She looked at Croft; he had blood running down his face from a wound on his forehead. He was less concerned about his own injuries, though, and was frantically pointing to the passenger seat. Scared, Lorne leaned forward and frantically shook her husband’s shoulder. “Tony?”

  He mumbled something under his breath as he came around, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Then she broke the silence in the car by laughing like a demented dog. It wasn’t long before Tony realised what she was laughing at and joined in.

  “You two are sick. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Look!”

  Tony reached down beside him and pulled up the thing that had shocked Croft so much. The guy looked as though he were going to vomit any second as Tony waved his leg in the air.

  Lorne heard Croft gag. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right—it’s a false leg.”

  Croft let out a relieved breath and held his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ. I had no idea. To see the bloody thing lying there like that…”

  Tony laughed. “Guess I better take a trip to the hospital to see what damage has been done.” He ran his hands down either side of the prosthetic limb and winced. “Won’t be able to use this one again, the state it’s in.”

  “Any other injuries, either of you?” Lorne asked.

  Croft checked himself over and looked down at the blood on his hands that had come from a wound on his forehead. “It’s just a scratch, I think.” Lorne watched him wiggle his legs beneath the steering wheel, which had surprisingly remained intact.

  “I’m good. How are you, hon?” Tony asked, smiling at her.

  “I’m good…‌Well, I suppose we’d better make the call to report this little incident. Did either of you see anything?” Both men shook their heads. “The windows were blacked out. I noticed the plates were removed. I’ll bet that car intentionally hit us; this is more than a hit-and-run by a scared teenager.”

  “Yep, that seems suspicious in itself. Oops, we seem to be attracting an audience.” Tony said, pointing at the gathering crowd.

  Lorne eased open the back door and stepped out onto the tarmac of the car park. Under the gaze of the crowd, none of whom rushed to offer any form of help, she fished her mobile out of her jacket pocket and dialled 9-9-9.

  “Yes, police, please. There’s been an accident. No, no one was injured. Only the police need to attend.” She gave the girl on the switchboard the location and hung up.

  Tony got out of the vehicle and flung an arm around Lorne’s shoulders for support.

  “I’ll deal with the police when they arrive. I’ll tell them we were chatting with an acquaintance in his car, and then some guy hit us from behind with his car and drove off. I’ll settle you in our car before they arrive.” Lorne helped Tony over to her father’s Nova, which was thankfully parked on the other side of the car park out of harm’s way, near the entrance. After settling Tony in the front seat, she returned to Croft’s beat-up vehicle and surveyed the damage.

  “Hey, it’s a good job I’ve been considering a replacement,” Croft said, standing alongside her.

  In spite of what had happened, Lorne was amazed at how matter of fact he was being. Despite someone trying their hardest to frighten the hell out of them, he appeared totally chilled out; others might have been shaking in their boots by now.

  Lorne shook her head. “Now do you see who you’re dealing with?”

  Croft shrugged nonchalantly. “Makes no odds to me. I’ve got them on the run.”

  “You really don’t get it at all. These guys mean business, Croft. This was a warning, that’s all. If they had really wanted to harm you, they could’ve just killed us.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got a magic weapon now. I’ve got the great DI Lorne Simpkins working with me.”

  His words forced a smile out of her, but left her wondering if she really had it in her these days to deal with the dirtiest criminals around. There was only one way to find out.

  CHAPTER NINE

  By the time they’d given a statement to the police and taken Tony to the hospital to get checked over, it was late, and it was past midnight when they got home.

  Lorne was surprised to find her father still up and pacing around the kitchen waiting for them to come home. “Hi, Dad, everything all right?”

  “I couldn’t flaming sleep. You guys are late.”

  “Yeah, later than we anticipated.” Not wishing to cause her father any unnecessary worry, Lorne hesitated before telling him what had occurred in the last few hours. But the expression on his face told her he had already guessed that some form of trouble had found them.

  “Okay, what went on?”

  Lorne, Tony, and her father slumped into the chairs around the table and Lorne proceeded to fill her father in. He listened intently, without interruption. After she had finished, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Christ! Are you sure you’re okay? Must have been a hell of a fright.”

  “And then some. Yeah, we’re both fine, Dad. The hospital gave Tony a temporary limb to use unti
l a replacement can be made. They gave him the all-clear, too. I just hope Croft recovers from his ordeal of seeing Tony’s leg lying there.” She laughed to break the tension. “Any calls while we were out, Dad?”

  “Actually, yes. Jade called. She said something about arranging a meeting with one of her friends.”

  “Angie—that’s right.”

  “I said you’d give her a call first thing for a chat.”

  “That’s brilliant. Let’s hope I can meet up with her soon. The sooner the better, if tonight’s little tangle is anything to go by.”

  They all said goodnight and set off to bed. Lorne spent the night snuggled into Tony’s back, scared to let him go.

  • • •

  Lorne groaned and hit the alarm beside her bed. Sometimes she hated getting up before the sun rose. Henry licked her face. “All right, I’m coming.”

  She trudged downstairs and let the dog out the back door before she filled the kettle and then flicked the switch. The morning felt crisp, and the mist she could see in the dim light hinted that the day ahead would be a pleasant one.

  After letting the dog back in and feeling more awake, she ran upstairs and threw on her work clothes. An hour later, she had finished all the basic chores outside in the kennels and headed back inside the house. Her father was sitting at the table, waiting for her.

  “Good morning.” She pecked him on the forehead and gazed down at him. His skin looked pale, but she knew better than to point it out. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Not really. I was too busy worrying about you.”

  “Aww…‌come on, Dad. There’s no need for that, I’m a big girl now,” she teased, flinging her arms around his neck and planting another kiss on the top of his head.

  “No matter what age you are, you’re still my baby. Promise me you’ll be careful on this case, Lorne.”

  “Hey, that goes without saying, Dad. I’m always careful. Don’t forget I’ve got Tony by my side, too. That means we have twice the muscle and the brainpower. It’s Croft we’ve got to be wary of. He’s like a bull in a china shop, that one.”

 

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