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Betrayed (Powell Book 4)

Page 13

by Bill Ward


  “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Powell apologised.

  “I was not upset. Just surprised and confused. It made me very happy that you wanted to kiss me but I didn’t understand why you didn’t kiss me again. I thought maybe it was because of someone you met at the house.”

  “There was no one at the house. I kissed you because it seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

  Afina smiled. “I hope I will not have to wait so long again for your next kiss.”

  Powell suddenly leaned forward and kissed Afina on the cheek. “That wasn’t long to wait.”

  She smiled, picked up her toast and started eating.

  Powell devoured his food and they kept to small talk. As they came towards the end of breakfast, he knew he could no longer postpone the difficult conversation. He decided it was best to come straight to the point. “Afina, I want you to take the first available flight back home.”

  “Isn’t it easier to take a train to Brighton rather than fly?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Brighton is my home.”

  “I knew you would be difficult.”

  “I am not being difficult.”

  “Afina, you can’t go back to Brighton. It isn’t safe. Scott or his police friends will find you and either use you as leverage to get to me or will just kill you.

  “I can stay with Mara,” Afina suggested.

  “No you can’t. The police records show you were friends and it would be one of the first places they look for you.”

  “Then I can stay with you.”

  Powell had to choose his words carefully. “Afina, I need you out of harm’s way. If you stay with me, I will be for ever worrying about you. That could get us both killed. I need a clear head.”

  Afina was thoughtful for a few seconds. “Okay, I will go stay with my mother.”

  “I’m going to check you get on the plane,” Powell warned. “And I will call you at your mother’s. I still have her phone number.”

  “There is one condition.”

  “What?”

  “You call Jenkins and get him to come up here and help.”

  “I was thinking of doing that anyway,” Powell agreed with a big smile. Jenkins had helped him previously deal with terrorists and gangsters. Powell trusted him implicitly and hoped he wouldn’t be tied up on some other work. “When we go back up to our room, I’ll phone Jenkins and then I’ll also book you a flight.”

  “Please be careful,” Afina cautioned. “They will kill you if you give them a second chance.”

  Powell and Brian met Jenkins at Paddington station. Afina was in mid-air, having caught a 2.50pm flight from Luton airport to Bucharest. As Jenkins walked through the barrier, Powell was encouraged by the sight of his friend. His leg was going to be a huge hindrance if he was to engage in any fight and the presence of Jenkins at his side would more than compensate.

  They headed for a café just a short walk from the station. Powell briefed Jenkins while Brian went up to the counter and ordered the coffees.

  “Another fine mess you’re in,” Jenkins summarised in his strong welsh accent. “I think I may have to move to Brighton just to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Have you spoken to Hattie’s parents?” Brian asked as he re-joined the others.

  “I gave her mother a call this morning. I didn’t give her all the details but enough so she understood her daughter is a dangerous menace.”

  “I don’t suppose she wanted to hear that?” Jenkins said.

  “Not really. I advised her to try and get her daughter away from the commune or she was likely to end up spending a long time in jail.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Brian commented. “Getting her away from the commune, I mean. Hopefully she and all the others can look forward to a long stay in jail.”

  “I don’t want to be in the cell next to Scott,” Powell quipped.

  “We won’t let that happen,” Jenkins promised.

  “Did you bring the photos?” Powell asked.

  Brian took a dozen headshots of police officers from his pocket and handed them to Powell. “From your descriptions, I reckon the two bent coppers are in this pile.”

  Powell quickly turned over the first couple of pictures then smiled as he stared hard at the next photo. “This is the man I saw handing over the suitcase.” He looked at the remaining pictures but none were familiar. “I never had more than a glimpse of the driver and then it was mostly his back. He could be any of these men.”

  Brian took back the photo and looked on the back. “Inspector Doug Williams. Now we have a name, I’ll soon find out who he works with.”

  “Be discrete,” Powell cautioned. “We don’t want them going to ground.”

  “After what’s happened, if they have any sense, they’re likely to do that anyway,” Brian replied.

  “Maybe,” Powell agreed.

  “So what’s the plan?” Jenkins asked. “I assume you didn’t invite me up here just to sit on my arse drinking coffee all day.”

  “We need to go on the offensive,” Powell replied. “And you’ll be pleased to learn, you are leading our attack.”

  “I always fancied myself as a striker. They get all the glory. What position are you playing?”

  “I’m the midfield General.”

  “I guess I’m on the subs bench,” Brian said.

  “It’s an important role, Brian,” Powell replied. “You have to be ready to come on and save us if we get in a mess.”

  “Talking of messes,” Brian said. “I had to smooth things out with the car hire company. The repair bill for the BMW is going to run into thousands.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Jenkins’ credit card had already proved useful, hiring yet another car and paying for their hotel room. They had moved to a boutique hotel opposite Hyde Park, not planning to spend more than one night in the same hotel. It had been twenty four hours since Jenkins arrived. They had spent the previous night having a few drinks and remembering old times. It was the lull before the expected storm.

  The hire car came with a Sat Nav and once they entered the post code of where they were going, it was an easy two hour drive to their destination. They arrived an hour early, having allowed extra time for possible traffic delays. They parked in the car park and knowing they were very early, felt safe stepping out the car and stretching their legs.

  “Let’s take a walk,” Powell suggested. “We can check out the route and get a coffee.”

  They followed the path downhill and quickly identified the café behind the walled garden.

  “Does she meet him inside or out?” Jenkins asked, spotting the patio area with tables.

  “Didn’t know to ask that,” Powell replied. “You best sit outside.”

  They went inside the café and purchased two takeaway coffees, then returned outside and sat at one of the wooden tables.

  “Not too many people about,” Jenkins commented.

  “I guess this place is quite quiet in the week, when the kids are at school, which is a good thing. The fewer witnesses the better. I’ve been here a few times at the weekend, when it’s been very busy but not for many years.” Not since Bella was young. Everywhere he went locally seemed to remind him of his daughter.

  “By the way, how is Mara?” Jenkins asked.

  “She’s good. Afina sees her regularly and I get to see her on special occasions.”

  “I must take her for a drink while I’m down here. She still in the same line of work?”

  “She’s still an escort,” Powell confirmed. “Seems to be very happy and plans to build a property empire.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s just purchased a house and is letting it out to students. I believe she paid a very large deposit with cash.”

  “I must be in the wrong line of work.”

  “You don’t have feelings for her by any chance?” Powell queried.

  “Not the way you mean. I just enjoy her compa
ny, as I do Afina.”

  “Sorry I had to ship Afina off to Romania but she was in danger if she stayed.”

  “Afina’s quite a girl. You and her…?” Jenkins left the question unfinished.

  “No. We’re just good friends as they say.”

  “You’re mad. Afina loves you and I know you love her. What the hell is stopping you two getting together?”

  Powell had wrestled with the question many times, especially since their recent kiss. All the old doubts had resurfaced. He was too old for her and she would inevitably want children, something he couldn’t contemplate doing again.

  They hadn’t spoken about the kiss before she left. They both acted as if it had never happened. Perhaps he was attaching too much importance to a single, brief kiss. They had been cold and tired. The kiss had been a momentary celebration of their escape from danger. Their emotions were running high and they were freezing half to death. It was easily explainable. But if the train hadn’t arrived when it did, he would have kissed her more passionately and who knows where that would have led.

  One thing was certain, eventually Afina would meet the right man. Someone who could offer her the life she deserved. A life free of danger. What Powell wasn’t sure about, was how he would react when that day arrived. It would feel a bit like the first time Bella brought home a boyfriend.

  “Let’s concentrate on the job in hand,” Powell suggested. He had sent Afina away for her safety but also so he had no distractions. “I’d better get back to the car park. I’ll call you when Carol arrives.”

  Back at the car, Powell didn’t have to wait long for Carol to arrive and she was easy to recognise. She was driving the very familiar Land Rover. She seemed very relaxed as she stepped out of the car and headed for the path down the hill. She had a large shopping bag over her arm, which Powell assumed contained the package for delivery. She didn’t bother looking around for signs of danger. She’d made the same exchange many times before without incident.

  Powell pressed the fast dial button on his mobile and Jenkins answered.

  “She’s on the way,” Powell said. “Will be with you in a couple of minutes.”

  He wished he could be in the café but he wasn’t very mobile and couldn’t chase after anyone, if it became necessary. There was also the distinct possibility Carol would recognise him before she made the exchange and flip out, warning off the man she was meeting. Powell could only sit in the car and impatiently wait for Carol to return.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Jenkins spotted Carol walking towards the café. She was easy to detect as she was the only single woman in the vicinity. There were no single men sat at any of the tables so he reasoned her contact hadn’t yet arrived.

  Carol walked past him and once inside the café, Jenkins watched through the window as she ordered a drink, before taking a seat at a small table suitable for only two people. Jenkins nonchalantly followed her inside, walked up to the counter and ordered another coffee and a slice of Carrot cake. Carol was still sitting alone and didn’t even glance up from the book she was reading.

  Jenkins sat at a table where he could observe everyone entering or leaving the café. He also had a good view of Carol, who seemed oblivious to his presence. He saw her look at the watch on her wrist and was prompted to do the same. It was a couple of minutes before three, which was the time she had informed Powell, the exchange always took place.

  Jenkins tensed as a single man entered the café. He was in his late twenties or early thirties and wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. He was tall and athletic looking. Jenkins noted he walked with an air of confidence. With his dark, Mediterranean looks, Jenkins would have guessed he might be Italian.

  The man followed the routine of going to the counter and ordering a drink. He then went and sat opposite Carol. He was carrying the same type of supermarket bag as Carol, which he placed on the floor. It was obvious how they planned to execute the exchange.

  They exchanged pleasantries like two old friends. Jenkins could hear everything they said as they discussed the weather and the park. They smiled and laughed. The man ate his cake and they drank their coffees. Anyone watching would see nothing suspicious in their behaviour.

  After about ten minutes, Carol said goodbye, stood up, picked up the bag brought by the man and headed for the door. Jenkins smiled at the smooth operation and remained seated.

  The man took a minute to finish his coffee, then stood up, picked up the bag belonging to Carol and headed for the door. He appeared to be very relaxed.

  Jenkins watched the man leave, then was quickly on his feet and followed the man out of the café. Jenkins hung back until the man was outside the walled area of the café. With him momentarily out of sight, Jenkins then hurried to the exit in the wall and wasn’t surprised to see the man heading up the hill, towards the car park.

  Jenkins was wearing running gear and started jogging. The man heard his approaching footsteps and glanced behind but seemed unconcerned by the sight of someone out for a run. It was a common sight in the park.

  Jenkins accelerated his pace and as he drew level, turned and smiled at the man. As the man turned his head slightly in Jenkins direction, he hit him flush on the side of the jaw with a short jab. The man collapsed to the ground and Jenkins grabbed for the bag that now lay by the man’s side.

  In just seconds, he was once again running up the hill towards Powell. There was hardly anyone about and even if they called the police, the man he’d assaulted wouldn’t be reporting a crime. Jenkins didn’t bother looking over his shoulder. The man had been too dazed to respond or offer any threat.

  Powell was anxiously waiting for Carol to reappear. When he saw her casually walking up the hill, he breathed his first sigh of relief. The greater sigh would follow when he knew Jenkins had been successful. He didn’t have long to wait for confirmation as he spotted Jenkins running up the hill, quickly gaining on Carol.

  Powell stepped out of his car. He was only ten metres from Carol but she seemed miles away in her thoughts and didn’t register his presence.

  “Hi Carol,” Powell said, walking towards her and waving his hand to catch her attention.

  An initially welcoming smile was quickly followed by a look of puzzlement on her face. “What are you doing here?” she asked as he approached.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have much time for explanations. I need to relieve you of your bag.”

  A small smile crept across Carol’s face. “Scott will blow a fuse.”

  “True. I think it would be best if you describe my friend here as the one responsible.”

  Carol looked confused for a second and then realised he was talking about Jenkins, who had joined them. She noticed the bag he was carrying. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It is,” Powell confirmed. “Listen, it’s important you don’t mention seeing me. Otherwise, Scott might wonder how I knew about the exchange. A stranger ran up behind you, grabbed the bag and pushed you to the ground. Feel free to give a description of him.”

  Jenkins held out his hand for the bag and Carol passed it over. “You may want to rub a bit of dirt on to your clothes, where you rolled on the ground,” Jenkins suggested. “Your contact will be back up on his feet shortly and headed this way.”

  “We need to go,” Powell urged. “You can come with us if you want. If you don’t want to face Scott, I can get you away from here and help you get started afresh somewhere else.”

  “And miss seeing the look on Scott’s face when I tell him he’s been robbed? No thanks.”

  “You’re certain?” Powell had been concerned from the outset not to put Carol in any danger. That was why it was important for Jenkins to take both bags. Carol and her friend from the café would both give the same description of their assailant, which should hopefully stop suspicion from falling on Carol. Scott and the other party would no doubt argue about who was to blame for what occurred. There was no link to Powell.

  “I’ll see you around,�
� Carol said with a broad smile.

  “Be sure of it,” Powell agreed. He turned away and hurried to his car, followed quickly by Jenkins.

  Powell drove and Jenkins looked inside the two bags. His raised eyebrows told Powell the contents were significant.

  “Seems Scott was selling cocaine,” Jenkins said, holding up a white bag of powder. “About fifty thousand pounds worth of the stuff, looking at these bundles of cash.”

  “Sounds like we just caused him a whole load of pain,” Powell said, grinning.

  “Not just him; he’s going to have a very pissed off customer,” Jenkins answered. “He has no money and no drugs.”

  “It’s a step in the right direction. We need to keep twisting the screw.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Scott had insisted Doug went with him to the meeting, despite his protests. It was Doug who arranged the original introduction and Scott believed Doug’s presence would help ensure his safety. Even the most violent gangster would think twice about killing a cop or someone else in front of a cop.

  Doug didn’t wish to be seen meeting with a known criminal in a public place but Scott insisted he must show solidarity and attend. They would keep the meeting short. They were partners and had to share the good and bad times. This was a very bad time.

  Scott knew the Italian’s reputation. Luigi was known for his temper and emotional outbursts. He made no pretence at being a modern day business man. He was a throwback to the old days of gangsters and a violent son of a bitch. There were plenty of stories circulating, which demonstrated his ruthlessness. Most of the stories centred around someone who had upset Luigi, literally ending up in pieces.

  For Luigi, it was not just a matter of the financial loss. His son had been assaulted and his property stolen. It was an affront to his dignity and he would be looking for vengeance. Others would hear about what happened and may perceive it to prove Luigi was getting weak. Rivals may try to move in on his business.

 

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