by Bill Ward
Once Roger had departed, Powell and Jenkins wasted no time in also leaving. Roger had some money in his pocket and might decide to place an anonymous call to the police, divulging Powell’s whereabouts.
Jenkins drove for a change so that Powell could phone Tina and ask Samurai to widen his search for information.
“Any news?” Powell asked, after brief pleasantries. In theory it would be easier to speak directly with Samurai but he didn’t interact well with anyone except his sister.
“My brother would have called you, if he had any important news,” Tina stated.
“I know that but I’d still like an update.”
“I’ll go speak with him and call you back in five minutes.”
It was more like ten minutes when Tina called back.
“I have a summary report,” Tina said. “But don’t get too excited. There is very little concrete information,” she quickly warned. “Scott has little money in his personal bank account and no other assets. Williams has a little more money, a savings account with a few thousand and a mortgage on his home. In other words, neither of them have any obvious signs of wealth. However, that doesn’t mean they don’t have millions offshore in a Swiss bank account.”
“What about the commune?” Powell asked, with a touch of impatience.
“I was getting to that,” Tina replied. “The commune is run as a Limited company under the name of Lindfield Social Enterprises. There is only one director, an accountant for a large firm in London. Scott is a signatory on the bank account, which basically means he has access to all the funds. The shareholders are both offshore companies based in The Cayman Islands. Peter hasn’t yet been able to establish if Scott has any involvement in those companies.”
“In a couple of months, Scott is expecting to get his hands on a large sum of money from a Hattie Buckingham, who lives at the commune. We could be talking several millions. Ask your brother to think about where that money might end up.”
“I’ll ask him,” Tina confirmed.
“What about Tintagel?” Powell had asked Samurai to investigate who owned the property and any connection to Scott.
“Tintagel is owned by a property company,” Tina answered.
“I know that.”
“Powell, can you please let me finish. The property company is based in Panama and all of the shareholders are other companies based in Panama. My brother believes what he has found could suggest someone is trying to hide the true ownership of Tintagel but equally it could just be a company trying to avoid taxes.”
“Is he going to keep investigating?”
“My brother loves solving riddles. He’ll get to the bottom of who really owns Tintagel.”
“It seems odd both the Commune and Tintagel are owned by offshore based companies.”
“It’s really not that unusual,” Tina explained. “Most companies and individuals with money to spare, will keep it offshore to avoid taxes. It isn’t illegal.”
“Okay. Can you please let your brother know, I believe Scott has a silent partner. I’ve no idea in what way they are partners but I’m sure there will be a financial implication and I wouldn’t be surprised if they are involved in something illegal. I need to know his name.”
“Or her name,” Tina added.
“Or her name,” Powell agreed.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Scott placed the call to Luigi, pleased at last to have something to tell the damned Italian. Luigi was running around acting like he was Don Corleone, threatening to kill anyone responsible for his misfortune.
Scott hadn’t appreciated the way Luigi handled Carol. He had slapped, punched and kicked her before Scott called a halt. That had set off another ugly confrontation, which was only cooled by Tommy’s presence. Luigi didn’t like anyone telling him to stop!
Scott didn’t believe Carol knew anything of value and even if she was no longer his favourite woman in the house, he wasn’t happy watching her getting beaten up. He was also seriously worried Luigi was so angry, he might kill her and that was risky. It could lead to further questions and unwanted attention. It was necessary to keep a level head.
Thanks to Tommy, Scott finally had confirmation who was responsible for Luigi and his own problems. Tommy had returned to the supermarket and explained his car had been pranged the previous day, while parked in their car par. He spoke with the man in charge of security and asked if they could check the CCTV.
The man was reluctant at first but two hundred pounds in cash changed his mind. The security man was shocked when he saw the truth of what happened in the car park but knew if he said anything, he would lose his job.
Tommy caught a brief but clear look of Powell when he stepped out of his car. Scott hadn’t been entirely surprised by the revelation it was Powell. After all, he had plenty of reasons for wanting to get back at Scott. They had all underestimated Powell more than once but wouldn’t do so again. Luigi could focus his attention on trying to locate and kill Powell and that should keep him out of Scott’s hair. Luigi was motivated not just by the thought of revenge but the belief Powell would still have the money and drugs. Luigi wanted his property back.
With the police also hunting for Powell, it was surely just a matter of time before he was found. Scott would prefer it to be Luigi who found Powell as that would be the cleanest outcome. A talking Powell could still be an issue in a police cell. On the other hand, if it could be proved he was killed by a drug dealer, it would just implicate Powell further in the drug business in general.
Luigi intended to kill Powell, although not before he lived long enough to regret his actions. There could be no reasoning with Luigi. His mind was set. Scott had reason to hate Powell but didn’t want to be present when Luigi took his revenge. He would send Tommy in his place.
Williams was almost as much trouble as Luigi. He was running scared and talking about fleeing the country. It must have been Powell, who broke into his house but the answer was to find and kill Powell, not to run away. If the police did capture Powell, Williams was going to have to silence him before the proverbial hit the fan. By that point they would be in the last chance saloon.
Scott’s phone rang but the caller’s number was withheld, so he answered with a simple, “Hello.”
“It’s me,” was enough introduction. Scott recognised the distinctive voice. “I expected you to call me with an update.”
“I was just about to,” Scott lied. “I’ve been talking to Luigi.”
“Who the hell is Luigi?”
Scott forgot he’d never shared the name of his customer. “He’s my largest customer.”
“For that filth you pedal. We have more important matters requiring our focus.”
“Luigi can help us solve that problem. Powell stole a large amount of product from Luigi, who needless to say isn’t a happy man. Neither am I for that matter as he also stole a great deal of money from me. Anyway, Luigi is what is colloquially referred to as a nasty piece of work. He’s ruthless and committed to finding and killing Powell.”
“That’s all well and good but first you have to find him.”
“Luigi is well connected. He’s circulating Powell’s photo to all the Italians who work in or around the airport.”
“You think he’s staying around the airport?”
“It’s a starting point. Between the police hunt and Luigi, we will find and silence Powell.”
“Make sure you do. We’ve both invested far too much time in this relationship for it to go wrong now when it’s so close to fruition.”
Scott ended the call wondering why he was always on the receiving end of threats from so called partners. He decided to go find Hattie. It was appropriate that it should fall upon her to relieve his stress.
At least the time spent with her had never been a chore. He had struck the jackpot when he discovered she was not only attractive but sexually uninhibited. He would miss her when it came time to leave but the blow would be cushioned by five million pounds.
She thought she was giving him the money as a business loan so he could buy Tintagel but the fifteen million dollars was to be split between Scott and his partner. It wasn’t an equal split but then it had not been his idea in the first place. Scott agreed to take a third but would have settled for less.
Once the money was in his Swiss account, he would be on the plane back to Australia. He didn’t plan to hang around any longer than was necessary. He suspected it would be a very long time before he thought of returning to the UK. Not that he was going to be committing any criminal offence.
He didn’t fully understand the legal jargon but it had something to do with the structure of the companies and the outcome would be that Lindfield Social Enterprises would be declared bankrupt and unable to repay Hattie’s loan.
He would finally achieve his lifelong aim of financial independence. He planned to stay out of the spotlight for the next few years. He would buy a boat and sail around the coast, partying with beautiful girls at every stop. Just two months to go to see his dreams realised.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Powell and Jenkins decided to eat in their room and discuss what they would do next. Powell was glad to be rid of Roger and what they had learned at the Cement Works was invaluable.
They both ordered a large steak and chips with all the trimmings plus a couple of bottled beers each. They had already drunk the beers in the room’s mini bar. While they waited for the food to arrive, they went over the day’s events and what should be their next step.
“This Luigi guy might prove useful,” Powell said. “Roger described him as a proper gangster. If so, he’s going to be putting pressure on Scott to get his money back. He won’t accept excuses like it’s not Scott’s fault.”
“Perhaps Luigi will break Scott’s legs,” Jenkins suggested with a smile. “That’s a fun thought.”
A light went on in Powell’s brain. “He will if we make him think Scott’s ripped him off.”
Not long after the word went out, Luigi received a call from a contact, claiming a man fitting the description of Powell, had checked into the airport hotel where the informer worked and was sharing a twin room with someone called Jenkins. They were booked in for two nights. The contact was a porter on the night shift, who had carried their bags to the room.
When he mentioned Powell appeared to have a slight limp, Luigi knew the information was solid. He thanked the man for his help and promised him a hefty bonus.
An hour later, Luigi despatched four of his most trusted men to the hotel. He would have liked to go in person but those days were long gone. He had a family and preferred to remain in the background. He was well known to the police but hadn’t been in jail since his twenties. He’d been arrested a couple of times but the cases had always been dropped for lack of evidence. It was pointed out to witnesses, it would be unwise and hazardous to their health, to give evidence against Luigi.
The men were under orders to find out what had happened to the missing drugs and money. They were to inflict as much pain as possible on the two men inside the room and once they had the information they needed, they should leave the men dead. It was important it should not be a quick death. They were to have their tongues cut out and their manhood cut off and stuffed in their mouths. It was to be a clear message that you did not steal from Luigi and if you did, you would meet a very violent death.
The men, who were all of Italian descent, knew the room number where the targets were staying. The leader of the men, called the hotel while standing outside the entrance. He asked to be put through to room 316. As soon as the phone was picked up, he disconnected the call. He had the confirmation at least one of the men was in the room.
As the four men entered the hotel foyer, they looked like any other guests, dressed smartly in dark suits. They headed straight for the lifts without attracting any unwanted attention.
On the third floor, they easily found Room 316. It was 7p.m. and they didn’t hang about in case other guests should suddenly appear in the corridor. There was no certainty both men would be in the room but given they were on the run from the police, it seemed highly likely they would be holed up in their room as much as possible.
Three of the men stood to the side of the door, out of sight of anyone inside using the spy hole. They were armed with guns and knives for the task ahead. They knew they had to move fast to silence the men inside the room before they could raise the alarm.
The fourth man was in charge and he would be first in to the room. He knocked firmly on the door, prepared to announce himself as the manager of the hotel, needing to speak to Mr. Jenkins about a delicate matter. There was a problem with his credit card. In the event, the story was unnecessary. He had only to wait a few seconds before the door was opened.
When the knock on the door came, Jenkins stood up to open the door. “About time,” he said. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s hope they cooked the steaks properly,” Powell replied, also standing. He liked his steak medium rare but airport hotels weren’t renowned for their cuisine. His expectations of the kitchen getting it right, weren’t high.
He walked to the bathroom and closed the door, leaving it ajar just enough so he could still see into the room. The police were hunting him and it was important to keep hidden as much as possible. His photo could have been circulated to hotel staff.
Jenkins waited until the bathroom door was shut. He was too hungry to bother to check the spy hole. He was also desperate for another beer. It had been a long day.
The Italian burst through the door, the moment it was opened, and was quickly followed into the room by his three fellow assassins. He was surprised it was opened by a middle aged woman but landed a punch on her jaw, which sent her falling back into the room as his friends entered, ready to deal with the other occupants.
“Who was at the door?” a middle aged man asked, emerging from the bathroom, wearing just a white towel around his waist. His face turned to a look of horror when he saw his wife on the floor and the intruders. He bolted for the door of the room but had no chance of escape.
Two of the assassins rushed to the man and grabbed him by the arms. He started to scream but one of the men cut off his airwaves with a large forearm. They dragged him back towards the bed and the man offered no fight when he was made to sit on the bed. One of the Italians stood close beside him with a large knife in his hand. The towel had fallen from his body and he was completely naked. The man covered his genitals with his hands.
“What have you done to my wife?” the man implored, looking at her unmoving body, lying on the floor.
“Keep quiet,” the man who had knocked on the door commanded. He already suspected this job was a complete fuck up. They must be in the wrong room. He was going to have words with the idiot who provided the tip. But right now, he had to make some quick decisions.
“We don’t have much money,” the naked man said.
“I said keep quiet. Otherwise, we’ll cut out your tongue.”
He was in charge and he could see the three other men looking at him for instructions. They also realised they were in the wrong room. He took out his phone and called Luigi.
“This isn’t the right room,” he explained. “There’s some middle aged couple here. No sign of the people we want. What do you want us to do?”
He listened to Luigi cursing and then ended the call. He knew what was necessary but wanted confirmation from his boss. None of the men had been too concerned about the occupants of the room seeing their faces. They were going to end up dead. This couple were just unlucky to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They couldn’t afford to leave witnesses behind.
He had his back to the man on the bed while he was talking on the phone. H
e took out his gun, which already had the silencer attached and in a quick motion, he turned and shot the man between the eyes before he had time to know what was about to happen.
He walked over to the wife, who was beginning to stir and shot her in the back of the head. He didn’t like killing women or children. In fact, he didn’t like killing any civilians unnecessarily but he knew there would be an extra payment forthcoming for clearing up this mess.
He placed his gun in the hand of the dead man so it would have his fingerprints.
“Hold the woman up,” he instructed his men.
Then he held the dead husband’s finger and pulled the trigger, depositing another bullet in the wife’s back. This would leave residue on his hand that proved he’d shot the gun. Finally, he dropped the gun on the bed by the husband as if it had fallen from his hand. Hopefully it would look as if the man shot his wife as she was trying to leave and then shot himself. If luck was really on his side, perhaps the cops would discover she was having an affair.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said to the other men.
He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Luigi. He knew his boss was going to be in a foul mood, which would only be appeased by the deaths of Powell and Jenkins. Next time, he would personally check any lead they were given. When he called the hotel, he should have asked for the men by name not just asked to be transferred to the room. He’d made a mistake but he’d rectified the problem.
For all he knew, Jenkins could be in the very next room and the contact had given the wrong room number. He hoped that wasn’t the case but even if it was, there was nothing he could do about it right now. They had to get clear of the hotel.
Jenkins opened the door and stood back to allow space for the girl to push the trolley into the room. She removed the tin covers from the food and identified which steak was medium rare and which was medium.
