by Taylor Leon
On my left, Arnie whispered. ‘You may get Norris after all, Erin.’
‘Who’s in the picture?’ I asked him.
Arnie put a finger to his lips.
‘What have you got to say now Mr Norris?’ Hunter challenged inside the interview room.
Norris stared straight ahead. ‘No comment.’
‘No comment?’ Hunter mocked. ‘No comment, are you serious? Can you see what I’m looking at?’
The interview room door flew open and two suits stormed in.
‘Clear the room please,’ one of them said, holding up a sheet of paper that I couldn’t read from where I was.
‘What is this?’ Hunter yelled back, as both he and Morgan jumped to their feet. ‘We’re conducting an interview here.’
‘What the hell?’ Arnie said and pushed past me. I followed him out into the corridor where two more suits were waiting to confront us.
‘Gregson, what the hell is going on?’ Arnie bellowed.
‘Pull your men out of there please Arnold and turn the tapes off,’ the tall suit with dark curly hair said calmly. ‘I’ll be continuing this interview.’
Arnie stared hard at him, without saying anything.
‘Do you really need to see the authorisation?’ said the younger man, called Gregson. He reached inside his suit and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Arnie shook his head and waved his hand.
Hunter and Morgan came out of the interview room, two suits in tow closing the door behind them, shutting Norris and his PA inside.
‘What’s going on boss?’ Hunter asked.
‘MI5,’ Arnie said, his eyes fixed on Gregson who replaced the document inside his pocket.
‘Thank you Arnold,’ Gregson smiled, then indicating the suit on his left he said, ‘Jack here has some forms you are all required to sign.’
‘You’re kidding me,’ Hunter said. ‘No way.’
Gregson frowned at Arnie. ‘I had hoped for a better attitude from your men, Arnold.’ He turned to Hunter. ‘It’s a confidentiality agreement to ensure you don’t repeat anything you’ve heard this evening.’
‘Do I have a choice?’ Hunter asked.
‘No, you don’t.’ Gregson said.
The suit called Jack stepped forward and turned the clipboard around, handing Hunter a biro. ‘Sign next to the cross,’ he said tersely.
Hunter looked across at Arnie who nodded his assent. ‘This is fucked,’ he muttered only glancing at the text before scribbling his name at the bottom.
Jack passed the board over to Morgan, Arnie and then myself and we all signed our names next to one another.
Hunter looked at Gregson and then at Arnie in disgust, and without saying another word hurried down the corridor.
‘Thank you Arnold,’ Gregson said, before he stepped forward and opened the interview door. ‘Miss Buckingham would you kindly step outside please. Mr Norris, you wait there and I’ll be back with you shortly.’
Sandra came outside. ‘Would somebody tell me what is going on?’ she snapped at us.
Gregson smiled apologetically. ‘I must ask that you step into a waiting room with these detectives Ms Buckingham. I need a private word with Mr Norris, please.’ He gestured down the corridor with his arm and looked up at Arnie for support.
‘DS Morgan, please take her to interview room two,’ Arnie sighed.
‘There’s going to be hell to pay,’ Sandra said. She shot us each a fierce glance, finally resting on Gregson. ‘I need to make some phone calls,’ she added.
‘By all means,’ Gregson said. ‘But if I were you I wouldn’t give anyone Mr Norris’ whereabouts at this stage. That really wouldn’t be good for his new image.’
She shot Gregson a hateful look, before she pushed past us and followed Morgan down the corridor.
I started to follow Arnie into the side room, so we could watch the rest of the interview.
‘I’m afraid you can’t go back in there,’ Gregson said.
‘What are you talking about?’ Arnie snapped back.
‘This will be an informal and unrecorded private interview,’ Gregson said, accentuating each word slowly.
‘Don’t push your luck,’ Arnie said. ‘We just signed a confidentiality agreement. That son-of-a-bitch is protecting the men who killed my brother, Lloyd Tanner, Angel Tanner and maybe John Cade. I’m damn well going to stand in there and watch what is said, even if you don’t record it. Erin, come on.’ I followed him back into the small side room.
‘You and Gregson know each other?’ I asked, as I closed the door behind us.
‘We have history,’ Arnie muttered, staring down at the screen.
44
NORRIS WAS WAITING as the vultures circled around him.
Round and round and round and round.
Gregson came into the interview room, all young, brash and cocky looking. He took his jacket off and placed it carefully on the back of a chair. Then he leaned over the table.
‘You’re one lucky bastard,’ he said. ‘They were about to nail you.’
‘Lucky?’
‘Lucky I got here. The DCI out there? His brother’s just been found dead. One of his men is in a critical state after being shot. He reckons it was the same people that killed Lloyd Tanner and his daughter. People are starting to look at you closer than ever.’
Norris shook his head, and looked up in our direction. ‘They don’t have anything.’
Gregson snatched Hunter’s photo up off the table. ‘They have this,’ he said.
Norris watched him impassively.
‘You’ve got nothing to say?’ Gregson said, folding his arms.
‘What is it you want?’ Norris said calmly. Ever the politician.
‘Him,’ Gregson said. ‘I want him.’
‘I have no idea where he is.’
Gregson suddenly slammed his fist on the table with a loud thump. ‘Bullshit Norris.’ He leaned further forward so he was right in his face.
‘It’s true,’ Norris said, eyeballing Gregson, his voice still calm and even.
‘He killed the Tanners and the Kanes, didn’t he?’ Gregson said, ‘He murdered DCI Shenker’s brother and left another officer dying in hospital.’ He paused for breath before continuing. ‘And right now, he’s armed to the teeth and planning…what?’
‘I told you, I don’t know where he is.’
Gregson reached forward and grabbed Norris by the lapels. ‘How is it even possible?’
Norris looked away.
‘Lee Riley is supposed to be dead,’ Gregson snarled.
Lee Riley was Mark Riley’s father. We thought he had died in a car crash in Spain.
‘How would I know?’ Norris said.
Gregson nodded and stood up straight, lifted his jacket and started towards the door. ‘He’s all yours,’ he said to us as he passed the camera.
‘Wait!’ Norris called, twisting around in his chair. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, then opened them again. ‘He faked his death. Stuck some dead tramp’s body in his car and sent it over a cliff. His brother ID’d the body as being his and that’s it. He was dead. Then he paid some other people to get a new name, a new birth certificate.’
Gregson came back and leaned into him. ‘Where did he get the money to do that?’
Norris looked back up at him, knowingly.
‘Oh, shit,’ Gregson whispered. ‘You funded him?’
‘No, you funded him,’ Norris said.
Gregson flung his jacket over the back of a chair and sat back down opposite. He was about to say something, but Norris held his hand up before continuing. ‘He wanted a fresh start. He lost his son. Mark died because of me.’
I looked over at Arnie who was watching, his face tense.
Inside the interview room, Gregson closed his eyes, tilted his head up and pinched his forehead.
‘You wanted Mark Riley and George Hilton and I gave them to you,’ Norris continued.
Gregson dropped his hand an
d stared over at him. ‘That was five years ago, Norris. Right now, we’ve got a lunatic on the loose and we need to find him.’
‘I can’t help you because I don’t know where he is.’
‘Then you better give me something.’
‘Or what?’ Norris gave a small smile.
Gregson stood up, came around the table and bending low he put himself right in Norris’ face again. ‘We have enough evidence of your dirty past to put you away for several lifetimes.’
Norris stared right through him. ‘People would want to know why you covered up for me.’
Gregson straightened up. ‘You served a purpose.’
‘The greater good, is that it?’ Norris smiled. ‘Richard Kane and his son were killed by Riley because he thought Kane gave his son up. Is that your greater good?’
‘Richard Kane was a grass,’ Gregson said.
‘But he didn’t give you Mark Riley did he?’ Norris said. ‘I did.’
‘What about Hugo Marr?’ Gregson said. ‘One of your old associates who has suddenly disappeared off our radar. Did he sell Lee Riley these weapons?’
‘Possibly, but I don’t know.’
‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Have a guess.’
‘My guess is as good as yours.’
‘I’m guessing he’s six feet under.’
Norris sighed. ‘Maybe Riley wasn’t a hundred per cent convinced Richard Kane gave his son up, and was looking for an alternative.’
Gregson frowned. ‘Anyone ever considered you?’
Norris shook his head. ‘No, but that was why you planted those stories about Hugo Marr; just to muddy the waters.’
Gregson sat back down and pressing his fingers together, he watched Norris intently for a couple of minutes as though he was gathering his thoughts or trying to read his mind.
‘Let’s talk about Duke Best,’ he said suddenly.
Norris visibly flinched when that name was mentioned.
‘What about him?’
‘You called me,’ Gregson said. ‘You told me he was going to be a problem.’
‘He was.’
‘Was? Did you have him killed?’
Norris shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you.’
‘Duke Best has vanished as well,’ Gregson said.
Norris shrugged. ‘Well I can’t say I’m sorry to see the back of him,’ he said.
Gregson folded his arms. ‘We have his laptop. We have all his notes.’
Norris stared across at him. For the first time, he looked unsure.
Gregson leaned forward. ‘We have it all,’ he said. ‘You understand what that means, don’t you?’
There was silence before Gregson continued. ‘One call from me and that information goes public. The beatings, the rape of those three Spanish girls a couple of years back. Your sidekick who beat the Asian shopkeeper to within an inch of his life…’
Norris started to say something but Gregson held up his hand. ‘Don’t even think about threatening me. There are a lot of people out to get you. They aren’t interested in me, or MI5. They just want you. All the PR in the world won’t save you.’
Norris watched him steadily. I waited to see who would blink first.
Gregson smiled, realising he had the upper hand now. ‘I want Riley and I want him now, or those files will be all over the press in the morning.’
‘And if I do give you something?’
Gregson held his hand up. ‘I disappear out of your life. For now.’
‘For now?’ Norris said.
Gregson glanced over in our direction. ‘Do you want more of our money or not?’
Our money.
MI5 was funding Norris’s campaign.
‘Son of a bitch,’ I hissed.
I looked across and saw Arnie, a small throbbing on the side of his face indicating he was as frustrated and disgusted as I was.
‘I don’t want you standing in this election,’ Gregson said.
Norris clenched his fists on the table. ‘What?’
‘We’ll continue to fund you, ready for a bite of the cherry next time around.’
‘And what do you expect me to do until then?’
Gregson glanced in our direction. ‘You run and hide, Anthony,’ he said. ‘It is going to get very hot around here.’
Norris slumped back in his chair. ‘This time….I can win this time.’
‘Stick around and there won’t be a this time or a next time,’ Gregson said, turning to face him again. ‘The game’s up for now, but you’ll be back. You’ll have money. I’m sure you will still be able to drum up support in four years’ time.’
‘And if I call your bluff and refuse to stand-down?’
Gregson leaned across the table. ‘Then you’ll find out I’m not bluffing and I won’t be there to protect you from all those people who want to bring Anthony Norris down.’
Norris swallowed hard, uncertainly.
‘So, I’ll ask again,’ Gregson said. ‘Where is Riley?’
Norris sounded less confident, and his voice was tighter. ‘I don’t know where he is, I swear.’
‘Then tell me what you do know, Norris. Right now, or I’m walking out of here and you are on your own.’
Norris closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. ‘This weekend is the anniversary of Mark Riley’s murder. Lee Riley plans to commemorate it by….’ He hesitated just for a moment. ‘He plans to carry out an attack.’
Gregson looked at us through the monitor. ‘What sort of attack?’ he said.
Norris shook his head. ‘I don’t know. A bomb I guess. Just like Mark used.’
‘When, where?’
‘He never told me,’ Norris said opening his eyes and looking up. ‘It’ll be this weekend, but I swear I don’t know where.’
Gregson whirled around and grabbed Norris by the throat. ‘I need more,’ he hissed. His face darkened and I could see real anger there.
‘I don’t have more,’ Norris said impassively. ‘That’s all I know.’
****
‘We’re looking for a needle in a haystack,’ Arnie said to Gregson, when he stepped out of the interview room, moments later.
Gregson didn’t look so sure of himself now, his jacket in his hand, white shirt sleeves rolled up. He pushed his way past us.
‘People are dead because of your dealings with Norris,’ Arnie called after him. Gregson paused, debating whether to take the bait. ‘My brother, my friends. Not to mention an innocent teenage girl.’
That last bit clearly got to Gregson, because he spun round on his heel and glared back at us. ‘You think I don’t know that?’ he spat. ‘I am sorry about your brother, and Lloyd Tanner, and his daughter. All of it. Believe it or not Arnold, we are on the same side here.’
‘Convince me,’ Arnie muttered.
At that, Gregson took three paces forward and went nose to nose with him. ‘You naïve prick,’ he said. ‘I’ll put it down to understandable high emotions. But do you know how many people would have been killed by Mark Riley and George Hilton five years ago, if we hadn’t got Norris to talk? I have to make decisions like this every day, and some of them are not black and white. I wonder if you had been in my position five years ago, what you would have done?’
Arnie stared back at him, but didn’t answer.
‘I thought so,’ Gregson said in a lower voice. ‘That is why I do what I do.’
‘What happens to Norris now?’ I cut in.
Gregson turned to me. ‘We’ll send him packing. Somewhere far away.’
‘You still won’t lock him up?’
Gregson cast me a look, and then decided he’d had enough.
He looked at his watch. ‘It’s almost midnight,’ he said. ‘The weekend is here in ten minutes, and with it a possible terrorist attack, so right now I suggest you help me find Lee Riley, and fast.’
45
HE WAS THE only one at the cemetery so early in the morning.
/> Lee Riley/ Wayne Young climbed out of his car and straightened up, stretching the stiffness out of his joints. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he looked up the hill and the row upon row of gravestones.
Everything here was so peaceful and quiet. Maybe it was true what they said. You only find real peace when you are gone.
He glanced over his shoulder, then all around just to be sure no one was watching, before striding up the dusty path that cut between the two halves of the cemetery.
As he approached the grave, the tears started to flow just like they always did.
My son. My son.
There was no one to hear him, and that was how he liked it. That was why he always came here, three times a week, late in the day when there was no one else around.
That’s the way it was. That’s the way it should always have been. Me and my boy Mark.
He stood facing the headstone, clasping his trembling hands together.
MARK GARY RILEY. BELOVED SON AND BROTHER. FOREVER MISSED.
‘I may not be back here for some time,’ he said. It pained him to have to say it, to be parted again. ‘But we need to finish what you started. What you died for.’
He was conscious that he was shuffling ever so slightly from side to side. Nerves? Anticipation? Excitement?
‘There is a chance that-’ He let the sentence hang. He knew he might not make it through the day.
I don’t plan to die a martyr.
But then neither did you, Mark.
‘If that does happen then I’ll see you tonight,’ Riley said, and he realised that a large part of him hoped that it would end like that. He wasn’t afraid to die.
I’ve been through in this life for the last five years, he thought.
‘I love you son,’ he said.
Someone cleared his throat, and Lee turned to see Judith Riley’s boyfriend, Chris Bramble, standing there, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a bomber jacket and a claret and blue West Ham United scarf. His hair was thinner, but his beard was a lot thicker than it had been when Riley had last seen him many years ago.
‘You’ve aged badly,’ Lee Riley said.
‘You look the same,’ Bramble replied. ‘Surprising, considering you’ve been dead for several months.’
