A Deadly Diversion

by David Barry

‘We’ve got the bastard. It’s as simple as that.’

  My turn to blow out my breath. I realised I was perspiring, took a handkerchief out of my pocket and dabbed at my forehead. Alice made a joke of it.

  ‘A handkerchief! Where was your hankie when we were in Peterborough and you needed to wipe off the prints?’

  ‘It’s a learning curve,’ I replied. I wiped my forehead, blew out my breath again, and tucked the hankie back in my pocket. ‘Christ! It’s hot.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying, Freddie, wearing a heavy leather coat seems a bit extreme in this warm autumn weather. Or is it nerves that’s bothering you?’

  I gave her a cheeky grin, heralding what I was about to reveal, opened my coat and pointed to the large pocket on the left. ‘Good for pickpockets this coat. Also a handy size for concealing a small firearm.’ I tugged the gun a little way out of the pocket, showing her the butt.

  ‘You’re armed!’

  ‘You’re observant,’ I joked, letting the gun slip back inside the pocket.

  ‘Have you got a licence for that thing?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I haven’t used a gun since I was in the military back when dinosaurs ruled the world.’

  Hands like talons, Alice gripped the steering wheel nervously. ‘Freddie, listen, ever since my family was killed, I have a revulsion for anything to do with guns.’

  ‘Sure you do, Alice. And that’s understandable. But if we track this evil bastard to where he lives, what do you plan to do? Call the police?’

  ‘I’m sure I can handle it myself.’

  I gave her an ironic chuckle. ‘If you mean what I think you mean, you can forget the martial arts and the Bruce Lee scenario.’ I patted the left side of my coat. ‘This firearm’s a Glock 26 - nicknamed a “Baby Glock” because of it’s handy size. It has a magazine of ten rounds and a bullet from it will travel at roughly 1,400 feet per second. So if you fired at someone standing just twelve feet away from you, it would... well, you work out the maths.’

  ‘I hear what you’re saying, Freddie, but...’

  ‘No, let me finish. There’s only one way of dealing with someone like a professional hitman, and that’s hit them before they hit you. Chapmays killed your kid brother, showing no pity whatsoever. He crossed the line eleven years ago, which means he won’t care or have any conscience about how far he goes or what he does now. That’s why we need to protect ourselves - fight fire with fire. So far we’re playing him at his own game. Using the same method to track him as he used to track your family.’

  Alice shuddered. ‘I know you’re right, Freddie. It’s just that I don’t want to resort to becoming as bad as him. I would still like to retain some moral standards.’

  I patted the bulge in my coat again. ‘This is a precaution. I’ll use it if I have to, but if possible I’d like him alive and in one piece, so we can get a confession out of him and find out who’s behind it all. He’s the instrument. Someone else gives the orders and he jumps. And they’re as guilty of your family’s murder as he is.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is, how come he’s not done anything to try to stop me getting at the truth for the past eleven years, but since I decided to employ private investigators, he’s been murdering some of those involved?

  ‘Presumably you left it in the hands of the police most of that time, and they got nowhere with the investigation. He must have known that. So what was the last contact you had with the police and what did you tell them?’

  An intake of breath as Alice came to a realisation. ‘Shit! It was an argument I had with the Detective Chief Inspector Moss at Surrey Police, after I’d made an initial contact with Jack Dawe. I told him I planned using the private investigator and was confident he might succeed where the police had failed. I said it not so much as a threat but for two reasons. One, I hoped it might galvanise him into continuing with a case which he no longer considered a priority and two, to get him to realise that if I threw enough money at the investigation then I might make some headway. It’s amazing how money will open doors when dealing with certain people. You don’t suppose Moss is corrupt, do you? He might have contacted Chapmays, who was once an undercover cop.’

  I shrugged. ‘It might be Moss. On the other hand, it could be one of dozens of coppers - all it takes is one or two corrupt ones - passing the information to Chapmays. And let’s face it, gossip soon goes around in a workplace or pub. It could be anyone.’

  She was silent as she mulled this over. In the silence, my stomach rumbled loudly. Alice laughed and it broke the tension.

  ‘When was the last time you ate anything, Freddie?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s so long ago, I can’t remember.’

  ‘We don’t know how long he’s going to stay with his son. Why don’t you pop along to the main road and get us a McDonald’s or something?’

  I pulled a face.

  ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’

  I thought how incongruous this was, seeing as how the firm had half a million in the kitty; but I knew she was referring to the choice of takeaways available in the area.

  ‘OK,’ I offered. ‘I’ll pop out and get us something. I don’t suppose it matters if Chapmays leaves the house in the meantime. We can track him wherever he goes. On the other hand, I don’t want to be too far behind him. Ring me on my mobile if you see him leaving and I’ll hurry back.’

  ***

  At five-fifteen, after we’d eaten sandwiches which I bought in a small supermarket, I saw Alice adjust her mirror and peer intently at the reflection.

  ‘Don’t turn round and look,’ she warned me. ‘I think this is him leaving now. Yes, definitely. He’s getting into the BMW.’

  While I slid right down in the seat, Alice picked up a brochure, buried her head in it and pretended to be reading. I felt the vibration in Alice’s car as he zoomed past us, and saw Alice’s eyes following it along the street.

  ‘OK, Freddie, you can sit up now. He’s turned into the main road.’

  ‘Let’s give him three or four minutes start,’ I suggested. ‘Just in case he’s caught up in traffic or stops at slow-changing lights.’

  We gave him five minutes, then Alice started the car and we followed. I took the live tracker out of the glove compartment, which worked pretty much like a satnav, and was easier than staring at the screen of a smart phone.

  We followed him towards central London, but when he branched left for Shepherd’s Bush, I felt a lump in my throat. It was where Bill had lived, in a small studio flat off Goldhawk Road.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Alice asked, sensing my sudden slump.

  ‘That’s where Bill used to live. I’m still finding it hard to get over his death.’

  ‘You know, you mustn’t blame yourself, Freddie. It was as much Bill’s decision as yours to take on this investigation.’

  Difficult to say no, I thought, with someone handing us half a million for the job.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I said. ‘Bill took risks most of his life. Some like you wouldn’t believe.’ I chuckled as one of the memories flitted through my brain. Then changed the subject. ‘You think this bastard lives somewhere well-protected? Block of serviced flats, maybe, with CCTV cameras on every corner?’

  ‘If he does, we’ll have problems. But we’ll just have to work something out. At least we’ve got him in our sights and pretty soon we’ll know where he lives. Maybe we’ll get his real identity. So if he is well-protected, we won’t have to move right away. We can keep him under surveillance until we come up with a plan.’

  I almost smiled as I listened to her. ‘Alice, do you mind if I ask you something, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Since you’re now my partner in the company, and we seem to be getting somewhere with the investigation, yo
u seem to be - well, more relaxed. Almost as if...’ I hesitated, reluctant to reveal what I thought.

  Alice smiled. ‘I seem to be enjoying it. Is that what you were going to say, Freddie?’

  ‘Well...’ I began awkwardly.

  ‘No, you’re probably right. It’s become my raison d’être, and I think I’m becoming addicted to the adrenaline rush. But I still want to nail this bastard for what he’s done, not only to my family but to Ricky Bishop, Bill and Jack Dawe. None of them deserved to die.’

  ‘And we’re still no nearer to knowing the reason why.’

  We were both silent for a moment, lost in our separate thoughts, but probably thinking along the same lines, wondering about Alice’s father and his possible involvement in organised crime.

  We headed south of the Thames, crossing over Putney Bridge, not that far behind Chapmays. From there we followed his trail to Mitcham, along Purley Way near Croydon, until we reached the M25. From there the tracking took us west, until we reached Junction 5, which was where we went a bit wrong. The traffic was heavy and we were in the middle lane. Here the road diverged and, before we knew it, we missed pulling out into the third lane which would take is to the A21. Instead, we were heading south on the M25. I grabbed a book of maps from the glove compartment and turned to the relevant page, while Alice fumed and cursed.

  ‘Panic not,’ I assured her. ‘It’s not far to Junction 4 and we can take that exit and double back. It shouldn’t take long.’

  It took us less than ten minutes to get to the next junction, then back on the M25 in the other direction until we reached the A21. From there the tracker took us through Sevenoaks. On the other side of the town, just past a pub called the White Hart, we took a narrow road called Letter Box Lane, and we hadn’t gone very far along it when the tracker indicated that we were very close to our destination.

  As it was now just gone seven the light was fading rapidly. Alice switched the headlights on, keeping them on dipped. Soon it would be dark and there were no street lights here. High and dense rhododendron bushes concealed houses from the road, and there were other tracks or driveways leading to the houses beyond the protective shrubbery. Behind us a car’s headlights lit up, and flashed twice as it slowed to pass us in the narrow lane. Alice eased the car forward slowly, getting as close to the edge of the lane as she dared, in case we got stuck in a rut. Less than a few yards ahead was a track, and a signpost with the name of the house on it: ‘SHANNON’ And beneath it the word ‘PRIVATE’.

  Another car passed us, and the trees lit up like ghostly figures. It looked as if this lane could be quite busy and I worried about our leaving the car parked in this dark corner blocking half the road.

  ‘We can’t leave the car here to do a recce,’ I told Alice. ‘Not unless you leave the parking lights on. Even then it might be a bit dodgy. It’s ridiculously narrow here.’

  Alice nodded towards the signpost. ‘And you’re sure this is it?’

  ‘Unless the tracker’s lying, we’ve arrived. It’s just down that driveway.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he’ll be going out again, do you?’

  ‘Why? What’s on your mind?’

  ‘Why don’t I switch the headlights off, turn into his drive, then we can explore quietly on foot.’

  Alice gripped the steering wheel tightly, so I placed a hand over hers and said, ‘Listen, Alice, let’s not take risks at this stage. We know where to find him. We could always come back mob-handed.’

  ‘Who have you got in mind?’

  Another impatient flash of lights as a car overtook ours.

  ‘I don’t really know. Our old comrades from Bill’s funeral offered to help.’

  Alice sniggered. ‘You’re not serious, are you? Two of them looked as if they were ready to go into sheltered accommodation.’

  ‘Just a thought. Admittedly not one of my best.’

  Alice’s breath shuddered as she exhaled slowly. I could tell she was wound up like a spring, ready to snap. She was so close to her family’s killer, and I knew she didn’t want to just turn around and go home. I couldn’t blame her. I’d have been exactly the same in her position.

  Then, before I had a chance to stop her, she thrust the car into drive, switched the headlights off and drove into the gap in the shrubbery and on to the pitted track. I felt the bumps as we bounced over potholes. It was unnerving. I couldn’t see anything other than dark shadows and I doubted whether Alice could see much either, although she was much younger than me. My side of the car made a loud crackling and scraping noise as it came in contact with shrubs and branches. She jammed on the brakes and cut the engine hurriedly. We had only gone forward on to the track about the length of the car, but at least we were off the road. We sat quietly for a moment, tense and listening. The only sounds we could hear were the occasional cars passing in the road.

  ‘At least we’re off the road,’ she whispered. ‘You got a torch?’

  ‘I’ve got a small penlight. But I don’t think we’ll need it. It’s not pitch dark yet, and our eyes will soon get used to it. Besides, if he happens to look out of a window and sees a torchlight in the trees, we might as well have phoned ahead to let him know we were coming.’

  I tried to open my door but it jammed against the foliage. ‘I’ll have to get out your side, Alice.’

  ‘OK. Here we go.’

  As she opened the door, the roof light came on. ‘Damn!’ She tapped the manual button and extinguished it quickly. ‘I should have realised. Right. Let’s go.’

  I followed her out and clicked the door shut quietly. We walked carefully along the dark drive which curved around with dense trees on either side, our feet crunching on loose stones, but at least the ground was firm and hard as we’d had no rain for a while. Before we reached the end of the curve, and not realising just how short the drive was, we rounded a corner and saw we were almost at the front of the house. We stopped, but too late. Two bright halogen lights lit up the whole area.

  Stupidly, we froze, caught like escaping prisoners in a searchlight. If anyone in the house happened to be looking out, they would see our figures, paralysed for a moment from the sudden shock.

  ‘Quick!’ I grabbed Alice’s hand and pulled her off the drive and into the cover of the trees. We fought our way through the dense shrubbery, branches scratching and tearing, unable to see where we were going. ‘Duck down and stay still!’ I hissed. As we were now out of range of the halogen sensors, after three or four minutes we were plunged into blackness as the lights cut out.

  ‘Sometimes animals, a fox or something, can set those things off,’ I whispered. ‘If he hasn’t seen us he might ignore it. Or with any luck he might have been at the back of the house and not seen the lights come on.’

  We stayed still for a moment, listening for anything like a door opening, footsteps nearby, anything to indicate he might have been alerted to our presence. I couldn’t hear anything, other than Alice’s shallow breaths.

  ‘What about my car?’

  ‘If he hasn’t seen those halogen lights then he won’t bother to look.’

  ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘It’s obvious we can’t get close to the house without being seen,’ I said. ‘So we might have to go back to the car and come back tomorrow, when we won’t have to cope with finding our way around in the dark.’

  ‘There must be a way of getting to the side or back of the house at night without alerting him.’

  ‘What we need to do,’ I whispered, ‘is find some sort of map of the area. Wouldn’t a Land Registry website give us the information we require? Then we can come back tomorrow night. Come on. I don’t think we’ve been rumbled. Let’s get back to the car.’

  We rose and moved through the trees, pushing branches aside, following the driveway until we were certain we were out of sight of the house and safe
from setting off the halogen lights again. We scrambled through the last of the prickly branches and stumbled onto the drive. I could just make out the shape of the car and I was relieved I no longer had to confront Chapmays who had more of a killer instinct than me or Alice. I heard a scuffling sound, and my flesh was pinched through the thick leather of my coat as Alice grabbed my arm to stop herself from falling.

  ‘Sorry, Freddie. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to come unprepared. At least we’ve got a vague idea of the terrain now. We’ll do some research and come back and get the bastard.’

  She spat out the last sentence with anger, and I was aware that it was disillusionment at the failure of our mission. So near yet so far. She held on to my arm as far as the car. ‘Do you want me to drive?’ I offered.

  ‘No thanks, Freddie. I’ll drive. It’ll take my mind off the abortive mission.’

  ‘Not abortive, sweetheart. At least we know where he lives now.’

  I opened the car door and slid over to the passenger seat. Alice settled herself in and I heard her breathing freely, probably relieved we no longer had to take Chapmays on while we weren’t properly prepared.

  As she slid the key in the ignition, I patted her leg. ‘Don’t worry, Alice. We’ll be back tomorrow night and we’ll have the bastard. But next time we’ll come prepared.’

  A sudden jolt as if someone had punched me in the chest, and I heard Alice stifle a cry. The voice from the back seat said, ‘You’re here now, so I’ve saved you another journey. No, don’t turn round unless you want me to blast a hole in both your heads.’

  Chapter 27

  Having seen the lights come on, he must have left by the back door and cut across the land through the trees on the opposite side of the drive.

  ‘I don’t know how you found me,’ he said. ‘Which is very unfortunate - for you that is.’

  His voice was an expressionless monotone and I detected a slight northern tang. I wanted to reply, but my mind was paralysed by fear. Chapmays I suspected was a psychopath, a man with no conscience; a man whose only motivation in life was serving his own selfish needs and desires. He would have no hesitation in killing both of us.