by M. C. Dutton
He asked her when she last tried to ring him and she said she was up all night and tried regularly, about every 30 minutes in the end. She said he would never leave her like this on purpose. He always rang her and told her when he was going to be late. She asked why it was different that night, he hadn’t rung her at all.
Jazz, at a loss to know how to answer, went on to say what a dedicated officer he was and that if he found a lead, he was enthusiastic and determined to find out the facts, and he sometimes got carried away with his work. He added what a fine upstanding Detective he was. She liked to hear this and agreed with Jazz.
He said that there were at least 100 officers searching for him as they spoke. This may have been a slight exaggeration but, in fact, those dealing with the gang raid, the CCTV, the phones and everyone in the police stations in the East End were doing what they could to find out where Tony was, and that was a lot of officers. He suggested she went home and waited. They were all getting on with the job of finding him and he wanted to be out there too. Numbed by worry, the fight had gone out of Mrs Sepple and she got up and left. She turned at the door and said she wanted to be kept informed of what was happening. Jazz readily agreed and said she would be the first to know. She hesitated for a second and added chillingly, “If he is hurt or…” she hesitated for a second, not daring to say the word “dead, it will be on your head. You will be to blame and I will take you through every court in the land to get you put away for a long time.” With that, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Jazz exhaled. He had been holding his breath and the tension could be cut with a knife. He had to hold on and keep control.
He called for the PWC who was waiting outside the room to arrange for a car to take Mrs Sepple home. He suggested she should stay with Mrs Sepple until there was further news. This was agreed and they left the station. Jazz sighed with relief. How on earth was he going to tell her when they found Tony? He pulled himself together, he had work to do and time was running out. A quick drink from his flask helped. He tried to shrug off the look in Mrs Sepple’s eyes; she had spooked him.
He wanted to see Bam Bam. Jenny would be ready for him at about 10 a.m. He had been held up longer than he wanted to by Mrs Sepple but he reckoned he still had time to see Bam Bam first. He knew he was in trouble there as well. Bam Bam’s men had been raided and were banged up at some police station in the area. He would be none too pleased to see Jazz. Gee, what a start to the day, was all he could think. Once outside, he took a cigarette and inhaled deeply. It was still a bit early but he had his flask with him and the spare one filled too. He took a small swig, just enough to fire him up. He hadn’t had time for breakfast and there had to be some protein in the vodka, he presumed.
It was now nearly 9 a.m. and he wondered if it was a bit early for Bam Bam to have arrived. He saw his car and realised of course he would be early. His men had been rounded up that morning. He was lucky it hadn’t been him as well. In fact, he wondered why he hadn’t been arrested with the others. On reflection, he knew that everyone was aware that Bam Bam didn’t deal in drugs and wasn’t anything to do with all that was going on. That’s what made him so helpful to Jazz; he might not deal in it but he knew what was going on in his patch. No one knew of their special relationship. They would never be friends but Bam Bam owed Jazz big time and although he would never call himself a grass, he reluctantly threw useful snippets of information to Jazz when pushed.
This meeting would be a test of their special relationship. Bam Bam was not alone, his right-hand man was with him. He was spitting nails in the direction of Jazz. “How dare you arrest my men? How dare you bring them into your gang round-up? Everyone knows it’s nothing to do with me.” He was getting very red and hot under the collar. His huge belly wobbled with the exertion.
Jazz held up his hands and apologised and tried to say something helpful but failed miserably. “I know you’re mad about what’s going on. I’ve just come to check how you are. I was concerned, but I see you’re OK here and you have…” He waved a hand at the other man, not knowing his name and not knowing what to call him.
“If you mean Jimmy, then yes, I have Jimmy with me. That would have been too outrageous if he had been taken to the police station as well.” Jazz nodded to Jimmy. He would try and remember his name next time.
Jazz tried to calm the situation. “Look, this is all getting out of hand, Bam Bam. Between us we have got to put a stop to this. I’ve come for your help. Is there anything you can tell me that will get this back on track? 17 murders in a few days is just a bit too much for this town and it’s got to stop. My DC is still missing and I understand there is a good chance he was murdered. Killing a police officer is about the worst thing any criminal can do. Everyone is out there looking for him and when he is found, and if he is dead, there will be no peace in this town until the murderer is caught.” Jazz sat down. He was feeling worn down by the scale of events and needed some help now.
Bam Bam asked Jimmy to find some tea and cakes for them both. God, this man has a sweet tooth no matter how dire the situation, Jazz thought. Bam Bam wanted a moment to think so Jazz sat and waited. He didn’t have much time but Bam Bam was worth the wait.
“I am not certain, Jazz, but I think you are looking at both the Triads and Snakeheads here. They formed some sort of alliance. They were working to take over the cocaine factories, you know that, but something spooked them into action and triggered all these killings.” He looked at Jazz and waited for a reaction.
Jazz thought there was something not quite right here. “I saw three of the murderers and they weren’t Chinese,” Jazz said.
Unruffled, Bam Bam uttered, “Ah, I don’t suppose they were.” Jazz wondered what that meant.
There was a moment’s silence as the tea and cakes were brought in. Tea was given out to Bam Bam first, with the offer of a cake, and then to Jazz, who took the tea and declined the cake. Bam Bam sipped his tea and finished a small cake before he was ready to continue. “You really should try one of these, they are beautifully cooked.” Bam Bam said as he proffered a coconut cake. Jazz shook his head and said no thank you. It was infuriating to watch this gross man eat, but Jazz knew he had to sit calmly if he wanted any information.
After wiping his mouth and setting his cup down, Bam Bam turned his attention to Jazz. “Of course they have hired people to do their work for them. It makes sense. This is our town and we are not going to jeopardise our men by getting them to do the dirty work. It would have been planned and everyone would have ensured they had an alibi that night. I am nothing to do with it but my men all have alibis too.” Jazz, shocked, asked why the fuck Bam Bam hadn’t told him this was happening. Calmly, Bam Bam, eyeing up another cake, said, “There was no time. I only got wind of it about an hour before it happened and I was busy getting everyone together somewhere public. We all went to the Gurdwara and donated money. We were well remembered.”
Jazz asked, “If you have nothing to do with the killings, why did you need an alibi?”
Bam Bam looked at him almost with pity. “You think we would have been spared if we didn’t have alibis? Don’t be naïve, you know as well as I do, if the cap fits…” Jazz looked away, he knew that could be true.
“The gunmen were South Asian not Chinese, explain that.”
Bam Bam looked at him again as if he was a stupid cretin. “If you are buying guns for a job, you pick the best. Sikhs are warriors and they were the best and they were available immediately.” He shifted in his chair, picked up the cake that he had been eyeing and took a huge mouthful. He continued to talk with difficulty as he chewed through the thickness of the coconut and icing. “I know who they are and they left the country as soon as they had finished. Very professional and slick.” He caught a look in Jazz’s eyes and quickly added, “Don’t even think about getting me to identify them or bringing me into this. It is not my war. I am on the side lines and that’s where I am staying. We have a good working relationship, don’t screw it up
.”
Jazz goaded and Bam Bam sidelined him for the next half an hour. There was no more information to be had. Jazz asked again if he knew what had happened to his DC, Tony Sepple. Bam Bam said he had made enquiries but no one was talking. Jazz told him that the gunmen had told him they had killed Tony and they laughed about it. Bam Bam stopped eating for a second and sat in silence, thinking. “I had no idea, Jazz, I wasn’t told that. Are you sure?”
Bam Bam said he wanted everything to settle down. The police were making his work difficult and everyone was on edge. The relationship between the Holy Trinity was getting quite strained, the police were interfering and, all in all, the East End was not a nice place to be. To kill a policeman was the height of stupidity and caused everyone to batten down the hatches. He promised Jazz that if he got an inkling of who ordered this, he would tell him. He wanted the police off his back. It was obvious Jazz would get no further with Bam Bam but he asked him to keep making enquiries. They needed to find DC Sepple. Jazz left feeling uneasy but was not sure why.
He phoned Sharon to find out what was happening and she told him they would have more information soon. He made his way to the mortuary, where he was meeting Jenny. Tom Black rang him and said he would meet him there. When Jazz asked how the interviews with the various gang members were going, his reply was simply, “Fucking bollocks.” It was beginning to feel like everyone was rushing around chasing their own tail and someone was watching them, laughing at their stupidity and ineffectiveness.
He suddenly felt very alone and out of his depth. For a moment, he missed the blind loyalty of his mother. She never understood his work but she understood her love for him and in her eyes he could never do wrong. He missed having someone who was proud of him. At the moment, he had nothing to be proud of and he took the blame for Tony’s disappearance fully on his shoulders. He didn’t know how he could face himself let alone Tony’s mother or his colleagues if Tony was found dead. His answer was to take another quick swig from his beloved flask. The heat of the vodka as it trickled down his throat, kissing his tonsils as it passed, gave him some strength and purpose to carry on. He knew he was on a route that would lead to them finding Tony dead and then he would be confirmed as a murderer. He would face his demons then.
THE BEAT GOES ON
Jazz arrived at Jenny’s office to find Tom and DCI Radley with him. Jenny was off doing something important in the next room; she coulbe heard swearing and slamming cabinet doors. Jazz tentatively walked into what felt like the lion’s den. DCI Radley lost no time in asking him what the hell was happening in his manor. Jazz sat down, composed himself and repeated what the Asian gang had told him by about Tony. DCI Radley slumped down and exhaled a wearisome and defeated sigh. “I had heard but wanted to hear your version. I hope it’s not true.” Tom and Jazz both murmured their agreement. With a slightly lighter tone, he asked, “So what happened this morning? I understand you have a contact in the gangs feeding you information.”
Jazz cringed at such an explicit choice of words. “Please, Sir, don’t mention out loud that again. He’s a very valuable contact and if anyone gets an inkling, he would be dead meat and I would lose a contact.” DCI Radley nodded gravely and said it wouldn’t be mentioned again. He went on to ask what news he had.
Jazz told him the Asian killers were specially commissioned from outside to do the job. The Snakeheads and Triads combined forces for this one. They wanted the Viets out and to take over their cannabis factories but didn’t want to bloody their own hands. The killers had left the country. In answer to the DCI’s question, he nodded and said, “Yes, the same ones that told me they had killed Tony.” Again, he was asked why he was spared and Tony was killed. It didn’t make sense; why Tony, what did he see? They knew now why they weren’t bothered about killing a policeman. It was obviously because they were leaving the country so the problem wasn’t theirs. “I bet the Triads and Snakeheads were pissed off though,” added Jazz.
DCI Radley told them both that he wanted to follow up the leads from Jenny and the CCTV. He told them he was fed up just waiting for results. He had nothing to tell the press and the raids on the Triads and Snakeheads wasn’t getting them anywhere. They all had the same alibi. He added that even Bam Bam had an alibi for his men, which he thought was strange. Everyone had a cast-iron alibi. It was very frustrating. He was going to spend the day seeing what cropped up.
Tom and Jazz hid as best they could the feeling of depression that their boss was going to step on their toes at a crucial time. They wanted to do things their way and not have him poking his nose in. The truth was that the murder squad from the Yard wanted to muscle in on this and DCI Radley was having none of it. He was going to follow Jazz’s example and go AWOL. He hoped that something concrete would turn up today to finish the case and give the credit to Ilford Police and not the Yard murder squad, who were always poncing about on the television. It was a depressing thought, but he knew that if nothing was found today, it was likely he would go down with Tom and Jazz as officers who were only fit for school playground watches.
Jenny, unaware of the conversations that had taken place, breezed into the room carrying papers, plastic bags and other objects related to her job. “Well don’t bloody stand there! Take some of these from me,” was her grumpy welcome. She had in total 40 bags and a sheaf of paperwork. There were bullets in most of the bags.
“Gees, how many bullets were fired?” Tom exclaimed.
“Actually there were in excess of 60 bullets fired. Some are still in the bodies; no time to do an autopsy on all of them yet though. We had a count up as best we could. And these,” she pointed to the smaller bags ,“are the bullets retrieved from three bodies and the walls.”
This time it was Jazz who whistled and said, “My God! It was meant to be an outright slaughter.”
DCI Radley stepped forward and looked at the bullets. “Ah, Glock I see, most probably a Glock 26. Fires up to 33 rounds and with three men that is quite some firepower.”
Jenny looked suitably impressed. “Well, actually yes, you are right, DCI Radley.”
He smiled. “Oh call me Johnny.”
Jenny smiled coyly and nodded.
Jazz, watching this, could only think, For goodness sake, get a room! This is a murder enquiry and I have a pair of losers flirting with each other. He butted in and loudly asked, “So what does this mean?”
Jenny let Johnny answer and he said convincingly, “This means they were hired killers. The Glock 26 is the preferred gun for law enforcement agencies in America and for hired killers. It is the gun that never lets you down; it’s light to hold with a smooth firing action and with 33 rounds per magazine, it’s going to get you out of any trouble and do the job quickly.” He noticed the looks of surprise from Tom and Jazz and explained with a wry smile, “I studied guns and had a Glock 26 for a few years.”
The silence made DCI Johnny struggle to carry on the conversation. “I belonged to a Metropolitan Police gun club. I’m quite a good shot but rusty now.” He wanted to move this conversation on so with a smile he turned to Jenny and enquired, “Fingerprints?”
She nodded and said the majority were accounted for. Her team had checked with the home office and found most were here on visas, only three were not known and illegal immigrants. There was a dramatic pause and Jenny continued, “The one that will interest you is Tran Tan Giap. He was there; found him slumped in a corner behind some boxes.” It made sense, this was a takeover and Tran Tan was the head of the Viets. It fitted in with what Jazz had been told. It looked like the gang war was over, but they still didn’t know who had organised this. Was it the Triads, the Snakeheads or both working together.
At this point, the DCI stold them that Interpol was on standby for any information he had. He got on his mobile phone to tell them about the Asian killers that were said to have left the country. He needed any leads they may have as soon as possible. Tran Tan Giap was also mentioned and he wanted to know anything that might help them with t
his case; where he had travelled and with whom and any associates they knew about. He turned to Tom and told him to check up on his men to find out if any of the interviews had pulled anything in. He spoke to a gatekeeper in the office and checked that officers were out on the beat asking questions. He added that he didn’t want Ippledips* doing this work, he needed experienced officers.
He left Jazz for last and said that now he wanted to see Sharon and what was on the CCTV cameras. The three of them made their way to the door and into the waiting car. Jenny shouted after them that the autopsy results would wing their way to them when completed. Johnny shouted back that he wanted a phone call and the results would be collected immediately then, as an afterthought, he shouted, “And make that today.” Jenny’s swearing was muffled but the sentiments were understood. They laughed, wheel spun the car and put the blue light on to save time. The air buzzed with action, Jazz felt more animated than he had done for a while and was anxious to get going and find Tony and solve these murders. He was beginning to like this DCI now he was getting his hands dirty instead of sitting in his office.
They moved at speed to Plaistow Police Station, where Sharon had commandeered a fleet of rooms. She was enjoying the power of it all. A police officer was missing and she was getting everything and anything she wanted. A room for was set up for CCTV with three officers working full time on looking at the footage and another negotiating with out of area command centres for CCTV. In another room was the mobile phone work and in another were interview statements and anything that might help find Tony. Sharon was in her element and proud to say she was making magnificent progress. Her goal was to find Tony alive. If he was found dead, it would be her fault and that just couldn’t happen.
