by David Lowe
‘They’re under strict orders not to get involved in any of the hands-on side of the investigation,’ George said fighting to remain calm, ‘they’re there solely to work in the SO15 offices as an intelligence source.’
Waving his arms Edge said, ‘Strict orders my arse. Since when has Hurst obeyed orders?’
‘He is one of the best DS’s and team leaders in this office sir.’
‘Oh fuck off George. He despises authority and thinks he’s a British Dirty fucking Harry. He’s just a Scouse prick that’s been fucking lucky and he knows you’re one fucking soft touch. Order him back here by tonight and he’s to see me. I’ll give him orders, that if he ignores I’ll have him out on his arse.’
‘Who do you think you are speaking to?’ George said standing up, ‘Respect goes two ways sir and you can’t bully me. You’re just jealous of his successes,’ Then leaning over Edge’s desk, ‘remember this you fuckwit, it was his actions seven months ago that got you promoted.’
Edge took a deep breath to control his temper and said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you George.’ He reeled back in his chair, holding his hands up in a submissive manner remembering George had connections that could affect his career. ‘I think it’s time you considered going to pastures new. You see the problem with you George is you’ve never accepted the new ways of police management. You’re a good detective. I won’t dispute that, but you’re too much of an old school DI and with that comes the old school ways of managing officers. I don’t want that with the managers on my team.’
‘That’s fine by me sir,’ George said walking towards the door. ‘I’ll clear my desk now, apply for a couple of weeks leave and I don’t give a fuck where you get me posted.’
‘Sit down George. Don’t take it the wrong way,’ Edge said shifting uncomfortably in his chair realising he had pushed George too far. The last thing he wanted was losing the DI whose successes made him look good to senior officers. ‘I didn’t say there isn’t a place for you in this department. I’m just asking you to think about changing how you run the teams under your command.’ Ignoring Edge, George began to walk out of his office. ‘DI Byrne, sit down now. That’s a fucking order,’ Edge barked out in a loud voice.
‘Fuck you,’ George said storming out of Edge’s office. Striding down the corridor housing the ISB’s senior officers, his temper was up. He just wanted to get out of the building to gather his thoughts before saying anything further that could have a detrimental effect on the officers in the teams he managed. He knew that once he left the department, Edge would have no compunction in making life hell for any officer that showed the slightest loyalty to him.
Having heard the shouting coming from Edge’s office, Alex Bullard saw her DI walking quickly through the large open plan office. After hearing the raised voices, she knew something serious had happened between her DI and Edge. Getting out of her seat, she ran over to George as he was about to open the main door leading to the ISB department. ‘Are you alright sir?’
‘No I’m not,’ George replied forcefully opening the door leading to outside the building. ‘If you’ve got any sense, you’ll go back to your work and leave me alone.’
Walking a few paces ahead of her, Alex raised her voice slightly and said, ‘George, you’re more than my DI, you’re also my friend. What happened between you and Edge? Come on, you can let off steam with me.’
George stopped walking, turned round and looked at the young DC. ‘If you value your career you’ll leave me alone.’
‘I’ve never seen you like this,’ Alex said, ‘something bad must have happened between you and Mister Edge.’
His temper subsiding, he said, ‘That fucking shit of a detective superintendent has pushed me too far this time. He’s as good as said I have no further role in the Branch.’
* * *
At a bistro opposite Gloucester Road Underground station, David and Debbie were eating breakfast. As the temperature was already starting to rise significantly, Debbie wanted to eat al fresco and enjoy the bright July morning sun. Mopping up the runny egg yolk on her plate she said, ‘I’m enjoying this.’
‘It’s very nice, but eating on the pavement, the ambience gets lost with the sound of the heavy traffic, the fumes, as well as the hundreds of people going to and coming out the tube station.’
‘You’re a miserable sod at times. It’s a nice sunny morning. Let’s do what the locals do. You’re in Kensington, London now not Kensington, Liverpool.’
‘If you wanted to mingle with the tin hat toffs that live round here, you should have ordered croissants and freshly squeezed orange juice for breakfast, not a full English. If we were in Kensington, Liverpool you’d only be paying five pounds not twenty! ‘
‘For once in your life just let the class thing go and enjoy breakfast as well as the few hours we have to ourselves.’
‘Anyway, what did you find out before you came down?’
‘You’re not a bit romantic are you? Can’t work wait for a moment?’
David looked at Debbie. He knew she was right. They only had a couple of hours together before she had to report in at Thames House. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently caressing her right hand that she had on the table holding her knife.
‘And so you should be.’ Debbie said smiling. She put her knife and fork down on the plate and reaching into her handbag took out some documents. ‘I can understand your impatience. I printed these from MI5’s files yesterday evening. There’s a link between McCrossan and an old target, Mark Dunn. He’s a scrap metal dealer based in West Gorton, Manchester. Dunn’s parents were Irish and he was believed to be a sympathiser. During the Troubles, he housed PIRA operatives when they came over to the mainland. There’s little else on him. Dunn started his business nine years ago and according to our files he’s made quite a bit of money and his business is still thriving.’
‘So he could be the money behind any operation McCrossan’s planning?’
‘Possibly, but the stallholder you saw talking to O’Byrne is an interesting character and is a possible link. His name is Michael Pickup and he’s a Liverpool lad. He’s living in a flat in Ullet Road Liverpool, by those big houses you showed me last Saturday when we went to your parents. He has quite a bit of form, all from his teenage days. His last conviction was in 2008 where he served nine months of a fifteen month sentence for burglary. That’s not the interesting part. I think the stallholder role is a front for his main employer, a Declan Murphy. He’s a former PIRA operative. After his release following the Good Friday agreement Murphy went back to his cousin who lives in Wallace Road, Lisburn, Northern Ireland. This is unconfirmed, but word has it he’s one of those former PIRA members that’s disaffected with what’s happening in Northern Ireland. While he was in Ireland, he had a row with local Sinn Feinn members claiming they sold out the republican cause by working alongside Loyalist politicians in the Northern Ireland Assembly and he would not rest until the last “Brit” was out of Ireland.
‘Murphy’s made his money in the building game and is an owner of a company based in the North-West of England. Over the past few years the company’s grown and he’s got contracts all over England and Wales. The irony is, he’s been president of local business groups giving him regular contact with local politicians and he’s a patron of a number of charities based in Cheshire. According to our files, MI5 suspect his current lifestyle gives him a cloak of respectability from which he has powerful local figures and even senior police officers on his bankroll. He lives in a big house close to Frodsham, off Hollow Lane in Kingsley, Cheshire and he makes frequent visits to his family in Lisburn.’
‘That links into what Jimmy told us when we saw him on Monday. Do you think he’s the financial muscle behind McCrossan rather than this Dunn character?”
‘Possibly. I was interested in the fact you saw O’Byrne arguing with Pickup at
the market on Saturday. I made some more enquiries and found that Murphy was in PIRA’s Tyrone Brigade alongside O’Byrne. Murphy was living in Strabane then. It’s more than mere coincidence that we saw O’Byrne talking to Pickup and that you met O’Byrne in a pub that’s only a short distance away from Ullet Road. I’ve alerted our office in Leeds and the two MI5 officers in Liverpool are checking out the connection. O’Byrne could be staying at Pickup’s flat in Ullet Road, that’s owned by Murphy. It looks like Murphy’s more likely to be the money behind whatever it is they’re planning and I reckon they’ve already started sorting out what targets they intend to hit.’
‘We know Alan Trevelyan’s one target for McCrossan. No doubt that’s from when he was a Court of Appeal judge when he turned down McCrossan’s appeal.’
‘That’s why we’re going to the Atrium Club tonight. We’re going to offer Trevelyan and you on a plate to see if he makes a move.’ Having topped up David’s cup, she was pouring another coffee into her own cup when Debbie said, ‘Once we’ve finished breakfast, I suggest we go to Thames House straight away and report to Jenny. She’ll give us the full details of what’s planned for tonight. I’ll let her know we’re coming a little earlier than planned.’ Debbie ate the last mouthful of her breakfast. While chewing her food, she made her phone call as David finished his coffee then walked over to the cash desk to pay for their breakfast. Once paid, he returned to their table. ‘Are we all set?’ she asked.
‘Yes we’re paid up, come on let’s go,’ David said, ‘but just to let you know, we’re being followed. It’s the bloke standing by the entrance to the tube station with dark hair wearing the red shirt and sunglasses. I spotted the little prick at Blackfriars tube station last night. While we were standing on the platform, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the three of us and I thought it looked a little funny. Not in a subtle way, he followed us to the Chinese restaurant and the hotel Steve and I are staying at in Tottenham Court Road.’
‘Do you think he’s with McCrossan?’
‘There’s no doubt he’s with him. I thought McCrossan would have been more careful and sent someone with more experience to tail us. Don’t worry, I’ve let SO15 know he’s following us and we’ve got a nice surprise planned for him’
‘I hope it’s a nasty surprise,’ Debbie said picking her handbag up off the table as they began to leave the bistro.
‘Not too nasty, we don’t want McCrossan to think we’re onto the fact that he sent someone on our tail,’ David said pressing the “wait” button at the pedestrian crossing opposite the Underground station.
Numerous assorted vehicles travelled noisily along the road, occasionally blocking out the view they had of the young male who was keeping them under surveillance, forcing them to wait until they could cross the road. ‘I’ve got news for you and Steve. Jenny’s booked you two into the Strathmore as from tonight. We’ve got a double room,’ Debbie said. ‘As well as working hard, we can play as hard as we like,’ she added moving her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head.
‘Thank god for that. It’s a flea pit where we’re staying in. It’s all we could get on the meagre expenses GMP give us.’ As the lights changed, the green man signal illuminated, and David said, ‘Let’s go over to the tube station and act as if we haven’t seen him. I had to laugh, while we were having breakfast he walked past us a couple of times and then got a table at the back of the bistro by the cash desk and had a coffee. A few minutes ago he left the bistro and went and stood over there where he made a call on his mobile. I reckon he was telling McCrossan what we’re up to. He won’t know who you are. He’ll think you’re from the Branch. We’ll get off the tube at Victoria. Ben’s team are in position there to distract him so he’ll lose us and then we’ll get a taxi to Thames House. I don’t want McCrossan to know we’re working with MI5 so early into the investigation.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘I’ll let Ben know we’re getting the tube train now so he can relay to his team to get ready and do their bit at Victoria.’
* * *
‘Did your tail disappear this morning as planned?’ Ben asked David who was in a taxi with Debbie on their way to Thames House.
‘Like a dream. That stunt with the suitcase opening was brilliant. He really went arse over tit. There was a bit of shouting. Your team let me know what happened and told me that when they helped him up and tried to brush him down he got even more irate. Thanks for that,’ David said.
‘Brilliant. Once you finished at Thames House contact me.’
* * *
Greeted warmly by Jenny Richmond, one of the head’s of intelligence at MI5, as they entered her office at Thames House, Debbie noticed a look of thunder on Jenny’s face and said, ‘Something’s bothering you. I recognise that look.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with you two. Come in and sit down, I’ve ordered us some tea and coffee. I’ve just had one almighty row with your boss David and I’m mightily pissed off.’
‘Which boss?’ David asked.
‘Detective Superintendent Paul Edge. How the hell did he get to that rank? What was Bernard Gamble thinking of making him the head of the ISB in Manchester?’
David grinned and asked, ‘What’s he been up to this time?’
‘He informed me that you’re one of his officers and not to be used at our beck and call. He added that if I want to use any of his staff on investigations in the London area, I should contact him directly and he will decide whether or not they can be spared. Then he had the effrontery to tell me that terrorist activity in the provinces is equally as important as terrorist activity in the capital. As if I don’t know! He went off on this tirade and I couldn’t get a word in. Then he told me that I should not bypass him and use an “old boys” network adding that he had better officers to assist me than you and that it was his role in deciding who should come down to London to assist us. Well that was it. When he allowed me to speak, I asked him who the hell he thought he was talking to and that in any counter-terrorist investigation we think nationally not provincially like he does. I told him that he’ll do as he’s jolly well told. I wasn’t going to enter into an argument with him and I added that he should learn the procedures we deploy in joint operations when policing national security. I terminated the conversation there and then. Once I put the phone down, I contacted the Home Secretary straight away and got her to get the policing minister to contact him directly to put the jumped up little prick in his place. How the hell do you work with people like him?’
With great difficulty, but don’t take it personally. He hates most people he has to work with, but he really hates me.’
‘It must have been bad, I’ve hardly ever heard you swear,’ Debbie said
‘I just hate dealing with jobs worth buffoons like him,’ she replied.
‘What did the policing minister say?’ David asked.
‘He was in total agreement with me and said he would speak to Edge personally and then speak to your chief constable. Do you know Bernie?’ Jenny said.
‘I’ve only met him a couple of times on official business, but he did come to visit me in hospital after the Chechen job. If you call him Bernie, it sounds like you know him quite well.’ David said.
Jenny gave a knowing smile and said, ‘Actually I know him rather intimately. When he was a DI in Special Branch, our paths crossed on a few occasions when we worked on the same operations. We got on so well, the enquiries we made eventually led to the bedroom. Why David, you’re blushing,’ Jenny said seeing his apparent discomfort that she could talk so openly.
‘He blushes a lot when you get onto the subject of women, romance and definitely when you talk about sex,’ Debbie said.
‘Bernie’s a lovely man, but it never worked out. We’re still friends. In fact, I might give him a ring later and put him in the picture regarding that Paul Edge. I’ll apologi
se for causing the policing minister to ring himand start the downfall of that stupid little man while raising your profile David. I’ll tell him what an excellent ambassador you are for GMP’s ISB, he likes that kind of bullshit,’ Jenny said.
‘Thanks, so telling him that I’m a good officer’s just bullshit then?’ David said grinning.
Jenny smiled. ‘No,’ she said turning to Debbie, ‘When I look at you two, it reminds me of Bernie and I, and how special that time was. Provided you don’t go off and become a chief officer, I think you two should stay the course. You don’t want to be promoted do you David?’ Jenny asked.
Blushing again, David said, ‘No, I’m already at the highest rank I’ll ever achieve in the police.’
There was a knock on Jenny’s office door and after telling the caller to enter the room she said, ‘Here’s Simon with the tea and coffee.’ Jenny made some space on her desk and instructed Simon to place the tray on her desk. After thanking him, she passed out the drinks saying, ‘now to business. Are you looking forward to the Atrium Club in New Square by Lincoln’s Inn Fields tonight?’
‘Yes,’ Debbie replied, ‘Alan Trevelyan, us two, Chloe as well as David’s brother, Peter and his wife will be there.’
‘I thought I would try and get as many of those who Sean McCrossan hates together under the one roof and Alan Trevelyan’s club seemed as good a place as any. Seeing how he was so eager to have a shot at you and Steve, it’s a good chance he might show up,’ Jenny said. Looking directly at David she said, ‘You’ll have to be on your best behaviour. Just follow Debbie as to which knife and fork to use and how you wear your napkin at the dining table.’
David sighed and said, ‘I’m not falling for it. If this was our first meeting, I would’ve told you in no uncertain terms where to stick your knife and fork, and it would hurt too.’
Jenny laughed, ‘Good, because you’re going to need that thick skin at the Atrium. I’m afraid it’s full of lawyers and judges for whom the right postcode, accent, university etcetera is very important. So bite your lip and play the game. Debbie will be by your side as will the sharp witted and equally sharp tongued Chloe Byrne.’
