Vengeance

by Price, Roger A

  ‘I see. It would probably be in some sort of sleep-mode until alerted by the system of something coming towards it, or by a near-motion incident coming from the other way. Otherwise every time a car drove past on the motorway, the system would be kicking off.’

  ‘Makes sense, but why did it have to shut off right at that point?’ Christine asked.

  ‘Come on, let’s go through it again.’

  Vinnie orientated the remote control and then re-ran the DVD once more, and then again using the pause function until he was happy they had it on hold on the very last frame from camera three. It showed the car driving away with its lights on: including the rear number plate light.

  ‘Look,’ Christine shouted, and then ran to one of the bedside tables and returned with hotel pen and paper.

  Vinnie leaned in and could see that the rear number plate was visible for the first time. He hadn’t noticed it on the live playbacks. ‘It’s on the very last frame,’ he said as he looked up to see Christine scribbling.

  ‘Got it,’ she said.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Vinnie said, ‘I’ll get it checked on the PNC – Police National Computer - then I can go and pay the owner a visit.’

  Just then Vinnie’s mobile started to ring. It was Harry. He put a finger to his lips and looked at Christine before he took the call.

  ‘Good timing, Harry, I’ve got something.’

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Five minutes from the nick.’

  ‘Good, will it keep until you get here?’

  ‘Sure, Harry, is everything ok?’

  ‘I’ve just had a very interesting chat with Jim Reedly, albeit only over the phone.’

  ‘And?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘I think he’s bullshitting me, see you in five.’ The line went dead.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Christine asked.

  ‘No, Harry thinks he’s being rubber-dicked, I’d better get back.’

  ‘I’m sure Detective Superintendent Harry Delany would never use that expression,’ Christine said, grinning.

  ‘You’re probably right, but I’m working on him.’

  Vinnie took the piece of paper from Christine, who said she needed to meet her camera crew back at the scene anyway, and record a short piece-to-camera in time for the lunchtime news. Vinnie said he’d ring her later, and they both headed out the hotel.

  Chapter Eight

  Vinnie walked into Harry’s office just ahead of him and closed the door behind them. As Harry sat down behind his desk Vinnie noticed a smaller one at right angles to it that hadn’t been there earlier. It had a desk phone and computer terminal on it.

  ‘That’ll be yours, Vinnie, and I’ll give you a key for the door before you leave.’

  Vinnie nodded, before trying out his new chair and turning to face Harry.

  ‘I take it things didn’t go too well with Reedly, then?’ said Vinnie, feeling like he needed to say something to start Harry off.

  ‘You could say that. I had to remind him that not only had he not been assassinated, but that the man mainly responsible for ensuring so had been.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I rang him hoping to set up a face to face, but DCC Reedly didn’t seem to want this, so I persevered over the phone. I was trying to find out why hitherto unknown villains such as Quintel and Jason-whatever, would want to kill him.’

  ‘He’s always claimed not to know anyone by their known names or descriptions,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘I know that, which was one reason why we thought there were others involved.’

  Vinnie nodded.

  ‘But after poor Charlie’s death, I was hoping he would revisit it and try to help all he could, but all he seemed bothered about was that we catch them quickly as we had “already cocked-up by letting them escape”.’

  Vinnie understood why Harry was wound up, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t run their strategy past Reedly before the mock execution, which he’d willingly agreed to.

  ‘Plus, he seemed to show a total lack of concern about Charlie Parker,’ Harry said, adding, ‘Maybe he should have accompanied me to see his parents last night.’

  Vinnie shuddered at the thought of that task. “Death Warning Messages” as they were called were one of the job’s worst tasks. He recalled each and every one he’d ever had to deliver, all of them vividly and indelibly stamped in his memory.

  ‘He said he’d try and think again, but due to his seniority it had been many, many years since he’d been operational, so was struggling to think it was linked to any cases he had been involved in.’

  ‘A fair point, Harry, I bet it’s twenty years since he felt his last collar.’

  ‘And that’s what worries me. What if this is not job-related? What if he’s been shagging, or whatever? But then it’s all a bit extreme. The whole set up is too organised.’

  ‘If he had been a naughty boy, then the aggrieved would probably want the pleasure of sorting Reedly out himself, that’s what usually happens when that’s the motive.’

  Harry nodded, before carrying on, ‘Plus, as soon as I put the phone down to you I got the chief of Lancs’ office on the blower.’

  Vinnie didn’t believe in coincidences so knew whatever came next wouldn’t be good news. Harry explained that he was now not allowed to ring Reedly without first going through the chief’s office, and when he’d asked why he’d been told it was an order.

  ‘That’s a bit over the top,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘It gets worse. I’ve been told by his office to say that Charlie Parker was just passing the building, when he saw someone breaking in and went in to investigate before meeting his doom.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Harry, those bastards nearly cut his head off. Not the sort of attack carried out by your usual interrupted burglar.’

  ‘That’s what I said, and then I was told that the official line would be that Charlie is suspected to have died from smoke inhalation, and received severe neck injuries by - as of yet – unknown cause, but if pressed, I have to suggest that possible falling girders or similar might have caused the injury, either post death or whilst incapacitated.’

  Vinnie was all for keeping Charlie’s undercover status, and therefore the operation, a secret, but this was going to the extreme. ‘Won’t the home office pathologist have something to say about that?’

  ‘He’s already been put on a confidentiality contract, apparently, and he’s not even seen the body yet, let alone examined it,’ Harry said.

  ‘What about giving out misleading information which could undermine any future court case against those bastards responsible?’

  ‘That’s why I’ve been told to use words like “suspected, unknown and suggest”. And I’ve been told to do it before the post mortem examination, and to refuse comment once the PM’s been done.’

  ‘I see, get the bullshit out there before the PM and never correct it.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Harry said.

  ‘You’re right, Harry, we are being rubber-dicked.’

  ‘What?’ Harry asked, so Vinnie explained the expression.

  They both sat in quiet contemplation for a couple of minutes before Harry asked Vinnie what his news was, so he told him.

  ‘That is a piece of luck. I’m going to need you under the radar even more now until we get a clearer picture of things,’ Harry said, before elaborating.

  Harry told Vinnie that he would have to play along with the chief’s office’s orders for now, and ensure the investigation was limited to the recovery of evidence from the scene and the attempt to trace Quintel and Jason. He would open a sensitive policy log and record the CCTV DVD in it and indeed all of Vinnie’s enquiries. Statements from witnesses such as the depository man could be actioned later when they knew what was going on. Vinnie was to keep Harry fully briefed and he would have to operate alone.

  A twinge of guilt prodded Vinnie regarding Christine’s involvement so far, but he decided not to tell Harry. Now was not the time to add to Ha
rry’s stress. He could see his ruddy complexion already turning purple, and he’d noticed that he’d already given his head an overarm rub, which was another sign of stress. ‘What do you think is going on?’

  ‘Someone has spent a lot of time thinking through this cover story, and not just to protect the covert side of things, and in any event, that would be our job, not the chief’s office, so it looks as if he’s being advised by outside influences.’

  ‘Granted,’ Vinnie said, ‘and not by his staff officer, either.’ Vinnie knew the uniform chief inspector who wiped the chief’s butt. Vinnie had always thought that even that particular task was one that no doubt stretched his normal abilities as it were. ‘It can only be about the true motive.’

  ‘My thoughts too,’ Harry said.

  ‘That would in-part explain Reedly’s lack of compassion about Charlie. Not that I’m excusing his callous behaviour, because I’m not. But it would explain his single-minded concern with catching Quintel and Jason – if that is their real names, even.’

  Harry nodded, and his face seemed to be turning more pink-like once more.

  ‘But surely motive will have to come out during any court case once we do catch them?’ Vinnie added.

  ‘They are probably taking it one step at a time; dynamically risk managing things, if you like. But I know when I’m being lied to, and Reedly was lying, no question. And something else, too.’

  ‘What?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘He was frightened, very frightened, as if he knew the threat was not only continuing; but was only going to get worse.’

  Vinnie said he’d get the car checked on the PNC and follow that lead, while Harry prepared himself for his next press conference later in the day.

  Chapter Nine

  Jack Quintel wasn’t too impressed at having to share a room with Jason, but he’d advised him that a downmarket bed and breakfast was less showy and far less traceable than booking into the usual standard of hotel that he would use. Plus the bored looking youth on reception was happy to take cash as he barely looked up from his wank mag, or whatever shite he’d seemed mesmerised by.

  He’d had a shower to get the smell of smoke off, him having already left his overcoat in the boot of the car prior to checking in. Jason had done the same with his, but had reckoned they could have both been on fire and the dozy youth on reception wouldn’t have noticed.

  He’d just finished a call on his phone as Jason came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him.

  ‘Was that The Man again?’ Jason asked.

  ‘Yes, he’s a little more chilled now. He can be an excitable fucker, but I’ve calmed him,’ Quintel answered.

  ‘I didn’t know you had such a disarming nature, Boss.’

  ‘I don’t, unless there’s money involved.’

  Jason just grinned as he dressed.

  ‘How well do you know Blackpool?’

  ‘I can get around,’ Jason answered, ‘done a few stag dos here over the years. Why?’

  ‘Well, until you’ve had your little chat with Dempster, I don’t want to use him, for obvious reasons, so I’ve rung a contact who knows people around here, and he’s given me a name and address.’

  ‘Another motor?’

  ‘No, the one we have will do for now, but we are going to need other hardware if you are going to earn your pay rise,’ Quintel said, noting the expression on Jason’s face. He carried on, ‘I’ve taken a further call while you were cleaning all your important little places, and target number two will be on the move the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s quick.’

  ‘I know it doesn’t leave a lot of time, though we’ve done most of the pre-planning effectively already.’

  Jason nodded as he finished pulling his sweatshirt down over his jeans. Quintel knew that Jason had spent time in the Signals whilst in the Army, and had impressed him with the reconnaissance he’d previously done. But he’d keep the target’s identity to himself until the last minute. Safer that way.

  ‘I just hope the name you’ve been given is not a tosser.’

  Quintel shot Jason a severe look.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, Boss, I mean because it’s come to you third hand.’

  Quintel said, ‘Explain?’ as he felt his flash of temper subside.

  ‘Well, you don’t know the guy is what I mean, and sometimes these tossers have shit sticks for weapons, and expect proper cash.’

  ‘If you need to break anything to get to the good stuff, do it. We don’t have time to piss about.’

  ‘Fair enough, Boss, I’ll just put my trainers on and I’ll be with you.’

  ‘Then we can grab some food and kip, it could be a busy day tomorrow; we’ll need to make the final arrangements for Friday. And if all goes to plan, this will put the shits right up that worm Reedly. Things might be turning out for the best after all,’ Quintel finished.

  *

  Vinnie thought about what Harry had told him as he drove to the car rental firm who had hired out the family saloon that Quintel and Jason had fled in. He’d been a little surprised to learn it was from a different firm to the other one. Both were national outfits, but at least this one hadn’t reported the car stolen.

  He’d known Harry on and off for several years, but it was only recently that he had worked with him, when they’d been chasing the escaped murderer Daniel Moxley, and as wound up as Harry could get, Vinnie trusted him and his judgement. If he said that Reedly was holding back, then holding back he was. But at least this gave Harry the excuse to cut Vinnie loose on his own. He’d just have to be careful how he went about it. That was when a certain idea started to form, but it would depend on how he got on at the car rental place. Knowing his luck, Quintel could have dropped the motor off at any of the companies national outlets, no doubt wiped clean or worse.

  It was late morning by the time he walked into the car hire firm’s Preston city centre office. Parking was a nightmare in the centre of Preston and Vinnie couldn’t be bothered finding a car park so had abandoned his car on double yellow lines with a two-penny piece on the dashboard. It was many years since he used this ruse and he was unsure if it still worked. It was supposed to tell any passing traffic warden that the plain car parked illegally was that of a copper on duty. Hence the two-penny coin. A one-penny would also have done, but obviously not a silver coin. But back in the day the traffic wardens had come under the command of the local police whereas today they were council run, so it was a risk; the days of getting out of parking tickets were long gone unless you had a big blue light on top.

  Ten minutes later Vinnie retrieved his coin, grateful that there was no ticket on his car, though he still didn’t know if the old ruse had worked or not. The really good news was that the rented car was still out on loan - it had been hired two days ago by a local. Vinnie rang Harry and gave him the details for intelligence checks. He’d also managed to obtain a still photo printout from the company’s CCTV showing the hirer. It wasn’t too clear as the white male had been wearing a baseball cap, but the bloke who’d given it to him had been the same guy who had dealt with the hirer, so was able to add to the description.

  Harry rang back after only a couple of minutes to say that the driving licence used to hire the motor had been stolen from a local burglary over twelve months ago. He should have expected this. He told Harry about the CCTV still and description and said he’d head straight back in to see if any of the local cops could put a name to it, he wouldn’t hold his breath.

  *

  Quintel kept seeing new strengths in Jason that he’d never known were there. True, he had used him for years, but he himself was new to this line of work. If all went well they could make quite a name for themselves, and become very wealthy. Their current client was paying serious money for what was relatively straight forward stuff. He should have made the switch years ago. Importing drugs was just getting harder and harder, taking longer and longer, and with greater risks. Their current work was as easy as robbing ki
ds, which was where it had all began a long time ago.

  No, Jason seemed happy with the sawn-off shotgun and the Glock17 handgun they had bought, together with ammo. Though the little toe-rag they had traded with in a bedsit on a side street off Blackpool’s Central Drive wouldn’t be able to count the money for a while; well, not until his fingers were better.

  As Jason had predicted, the little turd who called himself Shocka – whatever the fuck that meant – had tried to sell them some crap that had clearly spent time submerged. That had plainly annoyed the big man. Quintel had thought he was going to give him a slap there and then, but no, it was when Jason had asked about oil, when he flipped.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought about that, Jay,’ Quintel had said afterwards as they’d walked away, heading towards the promenade.

  ‘They drill it in into you in the Army, Boss,’ he’d replied.

  Quintel smiled as he lay in bed the following morning and replayed the scene in his mind. Jason asking “do you have any oil”? And Shocka’s reply, “If you want bum lube you’ve come to the wrong place”. Though, after all they were in Blackpool, Quintel had thought.

  ‘I hope your contact won’t be upset, Boss?’ Jason had said.

  ‘Don’t worry about that, the cheeky shite got what he asked for, anyway, he can probably only count to five as it is. And we still left the correct amount of cash behind – minus Insult Added Tax of course – we’re not thieves.’

  Jason had grinned, and Quintel had asked, ‘What about the oil, anyway?’

  ‘We’ll manage, it was more for the Glock than the sawn-off and the one we eventually got hold of looks brand new.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he’d said, and then they’d dumped them in the motor and headed off to eat.

  Back to the present and Jason walked out of the bathroom and said, ‘Is that a grin or a grimace, Boss? Last night’s curry repeating itself?’

  ‘No, I was just admiring your work last night. It was a grin,’ Quintel answered before throwing back the quilt. They had better get going; they had a busy couple of days ahead.