Liam crouched down in front of the bonnet and pulled at the grille. ‘These cars have a space behind the grille, see. Just big enough for a few bits and where the filth would never look.’ He stood up. The “bits” consisted of two Stanley knives, taped behind the large VW badge.
‘Stanleys?’ Haden took one and looked at his brother.
‘They’re effective and if you do get tugged with ’em, you can get away with them as tools. Not like the fucking meat cleaver you kept under your driver’s seat.’
Holding their Stanley knives, Haden led the way back to the wooden gate, still hanging off one hinge. ‘I still wish I had my cleaver.’
* * *
Back in the house, the three men began to relax, and the smoke thickened when Ian brought out the weed.
‘So what do we do now?’ Dee waved away the proffered joint.
‘Now? We have a couple of spliffs, my friend!’
‘And then?’
‘Then?’ Ian sat back and stretched his legs out. ‘Then we have a conversation about what we want to do with the four grand.’
‘What about getting Baurman his cut?’ Dee picked up a cigarette and put it down again.
Ian turned to look at him. ‘Stop worrying, man. Listen, I’ll give him a bell, tell him we took him up on his offer and then go see him with his money. That gets us safe, he lets the Skinners know that we’re working for him, and we ride off into the sunset with our prize.’
‘Baurman told us to wait though, didn’t he? He was going to make some arrangements.’
Ian sat up. ‘Yeah, he did. But we ain’t fucking kids now, are we? What happens if we let Baurman tell us what to do right from day one? We get to be in exactly the same fucking position as we were with the Skinners. Haden told me himself that they would never give us a bigger tab, because we couldn’t be fucking trusted. We’re doing five grand a week most of the time, and scraping by. Fuck that, man, I want out of this shithole and that means a bigger fucking tab. We turn up at Baurman’s gaff with sweetener of a grand of the Skinners’ money, he sees us for what we are, proper hardcore.’ Ian felt around him for the remote, and Kanye West blasted out into the room.
* * *
Haden kicked the gate from its remaining hinge. Liam was carrying an iron bar from the car, and used it to block the front door, preventing it from being opened from the inside. The brothers made their way round to the back. The door there was made from solid wood, but Haden had come prepared. He carried a heavy iron tool, known by the police as ‘the big red key.’ He gripped the handles and swung the sixteen kilos of hardened steel into the door. Its three locks popped, Haden tossed aside the red key and the Skinner brothers entered the house.
Dee stood up and turned off the music. Ian made for the front door, and began struggling to open it, shouting, ‘The fucking keys!’
But Haden had already reached Dee. Taking advantage of a moment’s hesitation, he brought the Stanley knife up, slashing Dee from his abdomen to his armpit. Dee bent forward and stumbled. Liam came from behind his brother to deliver a coup de grace to the bridge of his nose, and he collapsed against the sofa.
Ian and Matty had found the keys to the front door. Ian fumbled and dropped them and had just unlocked the door when the Skinners turned their attention to them. Ian looked back at his stricken friend and gasped.
‘So, Ian. I guess we didn’t talk this through properly earlier. What did you think? That we would just fuck off? Leave our money here and fuck off?’ Haden spat.
‘He fucking cut me!’ Dee had pushed himself up against the wall. One hand was pressed to his chest and blood ran out between his fingers.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Liam moved back to Dee and sliced through his right ear and into the back of his head. Liam pressed the knife blade into Dee’s neck. ‘‘Now you fucking listen! You ever pull a fucking knife on someone, you better know just what you’re gonna do with it, understand?’ Dee’s breathing was erratic, and he tried to nod.
Haden stood close to Ian. ‘Where’s our fucking money, Ian? I don’t have time to piss around.’
Ian appeared to hesitate.
‘Listen, if I don’t have my money in ten fucking seconds, then your Paki friend is gonna be the one to come out of this the best, you understand?’
‘It’s through there, in the bedroom . . . a . . . a loose board under the bed.’
Liam left the room. Haden stood staring at Ian, then caught a slight movement to his right. Matty was beginning to edge towards the baseball bat lying on the sofa.
‘Pick it up if you fancy a go,’ said Haden, waving the Stanley knife.
Liam emerged from the bedroom carrying a black bag.
‘Thought so.’ Haden turned to his brother, who was digging through the bag, sending the notes spilling out as he tried to count them.
‘Forget it, bruv. If it’s short we’ll be back for the rest,’ Haden glared at Ian, ‘and we won’t be so patient next time.’
‘You’ve got what you wanted,’ said Ian.
‘Have I? You think this is just about the money? You’re small-time, a fucking little gnat, so I expect some respect from you. How long we been doing this? I give you the gear, you sell it to your mates, take your cut and give me mine. We both earned out of this and now you’ve gone and fucked it up.’
‘I’m sorry, Haden, I just—’
‘Shut up!’
Ian looked down. There was a long pause and then Haden sprung to life. He leapt forward, thrust the knife into Ian’s abdomen, and twisted. Ian let out a sigh and slid to the floor. Clutching the black bag, the odd banknote fluttering loose, Liam followed his brother out of the house.
Chapter 23
The smile on Inspector Craig Jacobs’s face seemed a little forced. ‘Sir, this is Ed Kavski.’
‘Mr Kavski. I’ve heard a lot about you already. Inspector Jacobs here speaks very highly of you.’ Graham Huntington shook the proffered hand.
‘And so he should,’ Kavski replied.
Ed and Jacobs both laughed.
‘Please, take a seat.’ Huntington indicated the table, covered with a crisp white cloth. He had chosen the venue after some thought. Paul’s restaurant was at a distance from Langthorne House Police Station, and too expensive for most people who worked for the police. In fact, it was attached to his golf club. Huntington just hoped they didn’t look too out of place.
Huntington wore a shirt and tie, as did Inspector Jacobs, now trying to loosen his. Ed was in jeans and a Hugo Boss T-shirt with the short sleeves rolled up over his considerable biceps. Huntington tried to avoid staring at the large, faded tattoo that wound around Ed’s right arm. A waiter materialised, carrying three menus and a tea-light candle, which Huntington waved away.
Jacobs picked up the menu and flipped through it. ‘And you said that coffee place was overpriced.’
‘That coffee place is overpriced. I believe in value for money. I was also keen to keep Mr Kavski here away from Langthorne. It wouldn’t do for me to be seen lunching with him at this stage. No offence, you understand.’
Ed waved a hand. ‘Makes sense.’
‘So you’ll have questions for Ed here, I expect?’ said Jacobs.
‘Plenty, and not just for Ed, I might add.’
The waiter delivered their drinks — coke for Ed and water for the other two — and vanished.
‘Fire away.’
‘Okay then. Ed, I’d like to hear your view of this idea and the reasons why I should be trying it in Langthorne?’
Ed crunched ice and put down his glass, missing the coaster. ‘I’ve had a very brief chat with Craig — with Inspector Jacobs here — about your problem. From what I’ve heard, the Epping Hill Estate is pretty much the same sort of area as we’ve worked in before. The guv’nor came up with the idea that we’d go in there as civvies and rattle some cages. It was amazing what results we got, and quick too. The civvy angle really works. It gives us real freedom in dealing with people.’
‘And you were
made aware that you would be treated the same as anyone else, if you were found using violence,’ added Jacobs.
‘That’s right, we were.’
‘I said no prompting.’ Huntington wagged a finger at Jacobs.
‘Well, we were anyway,’ Ed continued. ‘I mean, Inspector Jacobs explained to us beforehand that we could be a bit physical and that no one would make any complaints to the police, and he was right. I mean, we didn’t go over the top, but more than you can do as a copper. Anyway, we knew that these sorts of places have pretty much the same structure. You get the junkies at the bottom, that have to fund their habit with all the petty crime that makes a mess of your monthly figures. Key Performance Indicators they were called in the Met.’
Huntington nodded. ‘They’re KPIs down here too.’
‘Right, well, your KPIs for stuff like thefts, housebreaking, theft from motor vehicles, that sort of thing, are pretty much guaranteed to be your junkies, the bottom feeders, and we’d been targeting them for years without effect. You’d lock one of the fuckers up and two more would be waiting for you to turn your back so they could carry on. And because you’re talking minor stuff, the ones you caught would be back out in twelve hours anyway. And because they’d been locked up all day, they would be desperate for their script, so there’d be people released from custody getting nicked for a street robbery on their way home.’
‘Mr Kavski, you’ll excuse me for reminding you that I know all this. This isn’t my first day.’
Ed sniffed. ‘Of course you do. You’ll see my point, though. The idea is not a new one, but we did it by starting with the bottom feeders. We were put in with a backstory already in place, so everyone in the area thought we were badass gypsy types. Then we leant on a few of the junkies to find out where they were getting their gear from. The next layer up was those that dealt in order to source the stuff for their own use.’
The waiter reappeared. ‘Gentlemen, are we ready to order?’
The three men sat back, each barked their choice in turn and the waiter picked up on their tone. He offered no small talk, just a firm underline on his pad and an accompanying nod and he was gone.
‘So then,’ continued Ed, ‘We’d lean on the next layer, who were getting their stuff from bigger fish, usually a local with a bit of muscle or a screw loose. Someone everyone knew and everyone was intimidated by. We’d change our game plan accordingly and go in hard. The next layer would be based outside the estate in a nicer area, but close enough to keep control of their patch, and we needed to step up our game a bit more to earn our intel. After that came the proper bigwigs, the ones that were supplying all over the country. We got information on importations of large amounts of class A, the lot. It was beautiful.’ Ed took a drink, the ice clinking against the side of the glass.
Huntington was beginning to respond to the idea. ‘Easy as that, eh?’
‘It didn’t even take long. By the end, which was, what, five months or so, we had earned a reputation and the major players were coming to us with job offers. We could have formed links with major importers from all over Europe, the whole damned planet if the Met chief hadn’t suddenly lost his balls. The man’s a fool. He could have claimed all the glory and what glory it would have been. We had enough names and information to bring down the entire UK drug supply network. He was welcome to the glory too, as far as we were concerned. We just wanted a chance to get it done.’
Huntington sat back, already visualising himself as the man responsible for an operation that branched out into Europe and beyond.
‘And you have a team of people all ready to go?’
‘Four people, plus me. I found five has the dynamics right. We talked about us pitching up in caravans, but the problem in Epping Hill is that it makes us a little vulnerable. We need to be able to put in a fair amount of kit — computers, listening devices, notes et cetera, the sort of stuff that would make it pretty obvious that we’re snouts. There are a few empty council properties on the estate. I wondered if there’s any way of getting us housed in one of those?’
‘I know a couple of people on the council,’ Huntington said. ‘One of them in particular owes me a favour. I’ll make a call and see what I can do.’
‘Great. I think it would make a lot more sense. There’s still a fair amount of preparation to be done. We’ll create our identities like we did last time — criminal records, warning markers, slides for the uniform briefing, fake police records for our vehicles, and so on. It’s all set up from the last op. All we need from you is to sign some paperwork giving authority for the fake records to be entered onto the computer. It’s done all the time with diplomatic vehicles and politicians to ensure—’
‘As I said, Ed, this isn’t my first day. I’ve signed off similar requests.’
‘Of course.’
‘Chicken Caesar salad?’ The waiter had reappeared unnoticed with the meals, and they waited for him to leave.
Huntington tugged apart a granary roll. ‘So, talk to me about timing.’
‘Well, I’m supposed to give four weeks’ notice at the moment, but I get the feeling they won’t insist on it. I can assemble most of the team pretty sharp. The background work will take a week or so, and then we’ll be good to go.’
‘What sort of timescale did you have in mind, sir?’ Jacobs said.
Huntington was aware that he hadn’t yet agreed to the operation. He took the bait. ‘Soon as possible. Inspector Jacobs, you will be running the op on the ground. I want you two to be in daily contact, and I will expect to be kept fully informed. I will have specific tasks for you to complete. There have recently been some nasty incidents in Epping Hill, and we need the culprits identified. I assume when you talk of “rattling cages,” you can also get people to talk about who might be responsible for knifepoint robberies, for example?’
‘No problem,’ Ed said through a mouthful. ‘Same tactics, just different questions.’
‘Good. I’ll make sure Inspector Jacobs here has all the details you need. Once that’s done, you can turn your attention to the many layers of Epping Hill. You do have to understand, though, I am not authorising the use of force against any persons in Epping Hill at any time. If you choose to use those tactics, you are on your own. Understand?’
Ed nodded. He and Jacobs exchanged a smile.
‘This total faith of yours in the culture of these places, and Epping Hill in particular, that they won’t just go to the police when you exert pressure on them, you’d both better be right because I won’t be backing you up in the dock if I’m asked. Do you understand?’ Both men nodded. ‘And, Ed, you will have no direct contact with me. You take orders from me via Inspector Jacobs. I will be running this thing day to day. If at any time and for any reason I feel that I need to pull it, then you immediately up sticks and leave the area. Do I make myself clear? No questions asked.’
‘Clear as can be. You’re the boss. I know this doesn’t sit easy, but you will have full control and you will get results from this. You just have to take a bit of a punt.’
‘A punt?’ Huntington shrugged. ‘A punt it is. Let’s get the ball rolling.’
Chapter 24
‘I knew you’d be in here.’ George smiled at his wife, sitting in the easy chair that had been positioned next to the cot. They had both been expecting to spend a lot of time here, comforting their new addition and watching her sleep. When Charley had arrived, it had been one of George’s favourite times. He would simply sit and watch how content she was, and listen to her gentle breathing, the occasional sigh. Mornings were also special — when Charley first woke up, she would still be a little sleepy and liked a cuddle. She’d lean into his shoulder as he held her in his arms, sometimes gripping on to his finger with her tiny hand.
Sarah shifted a little and the plastic cover crackled under her weight. ‘We’ve not even taken the wrapper off this. We’ll get a full refund.’
Not for the first time, George had no reply to this. Since that morning in the ho
spital, his heart had ached, becoming a sharp pain whenever he looked into Sarah’s eyes. She wasn’t coping well. The doctor had warned him that it would hit his wife hard. Sarah had carried their daughter for nearly nine months. Since coming out of hospital, she had been spending more and more time in this room, which had been meticulously prepared for the new arrival. They had considered everything. Except that it would never be needed.
‘She would have been so happy here, you know,’ Sarah said.
‘Of course she would.’ George looked round the room. It was all in neutral soft colours, they had been waiting to add touches of blue or pink.
‘And so would we, George. We would have been happy too.’
George rested the palm of his hand against her cheek, and bent down and gave her a gentle kiss. ‘We’ve always been happy, Sarah. Even when we’ve been tested, we’ve come back and been happy all over again. We’ve got so much going for us. I know we’re hurting at the moment, but it will get better.’
‘When?’ Sarah snapped. She looked up at him through eyes brimming with tears. ‘When will I stop feeling like this? It hurts so much.’
George put his arms round her and held her tight. ‘It takes time. It just takes time. We’ll get through this together.’ He felt Sarah’s shoulders shake with her sobs.
Chapter 25
It was six a.m. The front door to the basement flat of 72 Shellend Street was suddenly kicked open, crashing against the wall. Several people stumbled to their feet. A man crawled away from the sudden burst of daylight, still carrying his beer.
Flanked by two colleagues, Ed Kavski stood over the crawling man. The fourth was positioned at the back door, where a woman trying to stagger out, bounced off him. Next to Ed, a team member raised his Taser, the red dot on the chest of one of the room’s inhabitants. It prompted him to a panicked question.
‘What are you doing!? I got raided the other week and you found nothing. I drink, so what? I’m a registered alcoholic, all right, that’s it.’
BODILY HARM a gripping crime thriller full of twists Page 11
