by Paul Kirby
“So you want me to take the fall, do ya?”
“No, not really. They want you on their side, but let me tell you, when your pal Lightfoot got pulled this morning, it was no coincidence,” said Butler, feeling he was now holding all the aces.
“Ah yeah? So what did you think you got from him that might link him to me?”
“You know, we got fuck all but we’re all over that move, mate.”
“Really? You done well there, Mr. Butler. Poor bloke was going away for a few days’ holiday with his brother and you lot thought you were gonna put something on me? You’re fuckin’ good, you lot. No wonder this country’s fucked if we have to rely on people like you to keep us safe. You must be worth every penny of your salary. I bet the powers that be are well happy with you and your team, mate. I’m glad you don’t work for me. Do you have me down as an establishment man, Mr. Butler, or have you overlooked my background?” asked Dell, beginning to get a little bored with the situation. Dell thought about Lightfoot’s situation and could really do with Butler shutting up so he could alert him or one of the boys to the problem they now faced.
“No, no, Joe, I would never underestimate you, mate, my friend, but please will you let me explain? I’m sorry about the events at Dover earlier, but we had to act on information received.”
“Information received! From who? Someone’s pullin’ your pisser, Mr. Butler,” said Dell, trying to deflect the unwanted attention. Bloody hell, who the f**k spilled the beans here? thought Dell, but he never let it show. He kept a poker face that gave absolutely nothing away.
Amazingly, at this stage Butler had yet to manage to get out what he’d come to say. Eventually he did finally get Dell’s full attention. As Butler explained the program, Dell’s mind started to wander again. Right now, his main priority was to let Lightfoot know the move had to be aborted.
Dell listened for a while longer and then knew he had to cut the conversation short. This would have to wait for another day. He wasn’t going to let this lot hold him over a barrel. If he was ever going to join forces with them, he was going to make sure he had his arse and those of the rest of the boys covered. Anyway, by now Butler had said enough and Dell had gathered enough information for his own purposes. The pair cut the meeting off, but not before they had arranged another confab in the next day or two so Dell had time to consider the proposition.
Butler sighed as he was shown the door, but as the proposed target hadn’t yet been revealed, he felt confident he could win Dell and his boys round. How right he would be, but as of now, Dell needed to get hold of Funnel and let him know what Butler had revealed about Lightfoot and Sweden. This was an urgent matter. People needed to be told of the situation and quickly.
Dell waited for Butler to vacate the premises before he left his apartment and set out to get hold of the other two. He didn’t feel safe to call from his place just in case it could now be bugged. He headed straight for Big Burt’s to let him know no cash transactions were permitted from the prearranged account and to get hold of Funnel. Lightfoot was hopefully not too far into Europe yet and they’d be able to stop him. Dell knew this would cost them a few quid, but that was better than losing a few good men.
Burt got hold of Funnel easily enough and then he, Dell, and Richards met on the shop floor at Burt’s. It was there that Funnel had to notify Lightfoot to either turn his trip into a break or turn round and get back on English soil, and to ditch their non contract phones and purchase some more and regroup.
Obviously, Dell had to tell the boys of Butler’s proposal and how he didn’t have time to hear him out to the full because of Lightfoot’s position, but he noticed their change of expression. They looked like a pair of hyenas about to scavenge for their first meal in weeks. The three of them sat in the bookie’s shop and contemplated their futures and the futures of many others around them.
Chapter 32
Strangely enough, they weren’t the only ones considering their future right then. Dick Durley suddenly got struck with a bout of reality, like someone had hit him with a brick. This could well be the first time in his miserable little life this had happened to the man. He sat alone, thinking about the position he and his son were now in. Things couldn’t get any worse, he thought, contemplating spending the autumn days of his life in prison. He took to drink, gulping back bottles of gin, and serious depression quickly engulfed him.
The devious self-centred Bart wasn’t going to help matters either. He was looking to put the blame on his dad in any way he could and considering their ages, the old man was pretty much going to have to bear the brunt of it by himself. Although the pair were only in prison a week or so, Dick knew he didn’t want any more of it. Bart didn’t fancy going back either. But even in his short time there, he had managed to become another man’s bitch. So, in a way, it wouldn’t be too bad. Being no stranger to those situations, at least he could cuddle up with someone!
Gerry was happy for the time being, given what he looked at as a license to kill. He carried on business as usual and kept the money flowing into the DSTC’s coffers. This arrangement delighted Butler as it was playing the terror mob right into his hands as planned. The only end that hadn’t been tied up properly was the Dell part of the operation.
As Butler mulled over this rather large problem, Dell put through another call to Ronnie Slaughter from his new number to ask more about the in-laws’ arrangements for Armistice Sunday and to talk to him about the situation in London.
“Still, they’re comin’ at me, Ron, different names, same old faces!” moaned Dell.
“Told ya, didn’t I?” came Ron’s terse reply.
Dell asked whether Ron had heard any more about his son coming over with his mum and her parents. Ron confirmed he had and they were. This was great news for Dell. He could now make firm plans to meet his son. However, Dell wasn’t the only one with a trick or two up his sleeve, as listening in on the conversation were Wilson and an MI5 agent. Butler received a transcript almost as soon as Dell put the phone down.
Dell may have changed his phone and gotten a new number, but that didn’t matter. MI5 naturally had the most sophisticated listening equipment and they’d caught Dell on a voice recognition device. Butler was ecstatic. He now knew that the only bit of family Dell had was coming over for Remembrance Sunday and were going to be at the targeted Legion at the intended time of impact.
“Perfect, bloody perfect!” rejoiced Butler as all three agents high-fived each other. Now they didn’t need to try and get mud on Dell. They’d use his son as a lure. He’d become a sort of hostage and Dell would become the hero who rescued him.
Later that day, Dell and the boys ended up huddled around a table in the pub discussing what they should do about Butler’s proposition. All three were quite excited by it all, but they needed to know more. They would want some proof for starters, guarantees and assurances that this was government work and that Butler wasn’t setting them up. Also, they weren’t going to show their hand. Dell would remain poker-faced and try to drag as big a bounty out of it as possible.
Although he wasn’t quite as keen as the others, Dell was happy for a second chat with Butler. He would apply the same tactics as last time, but this time, Dell might be a little more attentive. Butler was eager to cut a deal with Dell. The clock was running down and Dell was aware up to a point of Butler’s desperation, but of course unaware of what Butler now knew. The second meeting took place the day after the first, but this time the pair met at a local church where they wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.
Butler arrived early and sat in a pew at the back of the church, waiting patiently for Dell, who arrived on time. A couple of old ladies fussed around flower arranging, but did not bother the pair.
“Morning, Mr. Butler,” said Dell quietly.
“Morning, Joe.”
“Bit of an ironic venue for a meeting, don’t you think?”
“Not really, Joe. We’re on neutral turf but common ground, and besides that, he’s on our side,” replied Butler as he looked up.
“Ha ha, yeah, I s’pose he is,” chuckled Dell.
Butler knew he’d divided Dell’s attention last time by trying to frighten him about Lightfoot. This time, he’d go about it the right way. He should have known scare tactics would not work on Dell. They made a little light conversation before getting down to business. Butler had made a good choice of venue; no one would suspect them of anything. They had both dressed smartly, Dell sporting his poppy on the lapel of his two-piece suit, no tie and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. Butler was similarly dressed, but with a tie and no poppy. They looked like a pair of city gents coming in to pay their respects to the big man upstairs. In a way, they were doing his work one way or the other, at least Butler was.
Dell listened properly this time as nothing was here to distract him, although he wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about something of this nature in a church. Butler, however, was a lot more at ease than yesterday and after eavesdropping on Dell’s conversation, didn’t think it was necessary to try and win him over. But he had to make it look and sound good. Dell felt there were other mobs in London better equipped for the job, but Butler was having none of that.
“Joe, if you were writing out ya team sheet for a London Eleven, you three would be the first names on it. You lot have been together for a long time now, apart from the odd vacation. Together you’re a force to be feared and certainly respected. Forget the East End and that mob over South. You and your boys are the ones. No one else has your experience. You were born for this and this is your calling. You could look at ya’self as a sort of underworld civil servant.”
“Yeah, exactly. A servant. You said it. I ain’t about to become your slave, Mr. Butler,” said Dell, wanting to swear but thinking that was inappropriate in a church.
“It’s not like that, Joe. It would be a one-off job with a nice few quid on the table.”
“Hmm, you’ll have to do better than that,” said Dell.
Butler knew he could do better than that, much better. He paused for a moment as he looked Dell straight in the eyes and then dropped the bombshell. He lit the fuse and sat back and watched.
Dell’s face was a picture. He actually looked like he was about to explode, but managed to contain himself.
“Let’s go outside for a walk,” suggested Dell, as he needed some air.
They walked around the peaceful grounds of the churchyard, hands in their pockets, only taking them out to gesture as both men asked questions or made their point. Butler knew this would work and really felt God was on his side as he said to Dell, “I like to think that my enemy’s enemy is my friend. Don’t you, Joe?”
“Depends who it is and what they’ve done or intend to do. But in this case, you’re spot on,” said Dell.
The two men spent all morning together, going through all kinds of details. A strange bond was formed. But would it be for one night only?
Eventually the pair adjourned their meeting. Dell was going out for a late lunch, but didn’t want to be seen in Butler’s company. His head was spinning. He was experiencing all kinds of emotions. Butler on the other hand was simply a very happy man and felt victorious. He’d finally got his man.
Chapter 33
Rita had got her man too and she also felt elated. But for her husband, life was quite the opposite. Two weeks is a long time, and how things can change. One thing that didn’t change, though, were the panic attacks father and son kept experiencing as they both started to face up to their current predicament. It had been good fun at the time, but it wasn’t at all funny now. Rita was well rid of him, or so she thought. She and Ifty carried on as usual and she felt no need to hide it. She hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. They went for a drink later that afternoon and showed their faces down at the pub as usual.
As they showed their faces, two other now-familiar figures also showed theirs. Badini and Dasti turned up awaiting Gerry’s arrival. As they had arrived early, they took the opportunity for a quiet word with Ifty. They were after a stolen car, one that had to be taken to order in the next week or so, one that wouldn’t stand out too much and that was not from anywhere near here. This was very important to them, as they had a very important use for it. Ifty knew what sort of thing they were after, but he had no idea what they wanted it for and he certainly wouldn’t ask. But they had asked the right man. He could sort that out for them, no problem. They shook hands and left the details with Ifty.
Butler reported back to his superiors with the good news and had visions of promotion or even early retirement. Dell called his lieutenants and arranged a meeting in the pub as he felt a chat over a drink was appropriate for what they were going to discuss.
Cairo meanwhile was getting herself ready for another visit to the Legion while The Ayatollah was putting the final touches on his battle plan. The poor Durleys were having to prepare themselves for yet another quiet night home on tag.
That wasn’t an option for Dell and the boys; he’d called it and now they needed to get busy. He explained the deal. It wasn’t exactly new territory, but it was certainly a new contract and a new client. As Sweden had gone wrong, a new source of income would be very welcome indeed.
Secrecy was the order of the day and compliance with Scotland Yard, Butler, and MI5 was now very much at the top of the agenda. Sweden was as good as forgotten about as a lot had to be discussed on this latest issue. All were in agreement that it had to be dealt with, but a lot of questions needed answering first. Top of everyone’s list was payment. How much? This issue would have to be taken up with Butler and nothing would be guaranteed until they’d all agreed on a price. After all, they would be putting their lives at risk.
During this one-off court meeting, they returned to the subject of Dell’s quieter family life. Although he’d been out of prison only for all of about five minutes, one man had already lost his life and several others were about to be put in front of a firing line in order to fulfil a government contract. So how quiet did he want it?
One thing was certain, though. All three were willing to meet with Butler and his men and to get things moving along quickly as they didn’t have loads of time left. But then again, would they really need it? There couldn’t be that much to sort out. Killing for a living wasn’t exactly new to any one of them.
“Let’s stop messing about, then, and get on with it!” said Dell.
“Okay, let’s do it,” the pair replied.
Over at the other end of the pub, Gerry’s eyes told another story. They were scanning the pub, working overtime. He was nervous and looking everywhere for unwanted faces as he prayed to God none of Butler’s mob would turn up. That incident had shaken him up, but he had to carry on with his work. As he sat with his two Asian mates, it was a scary position for him to be in and he didn’t like it one bit. The only people he overlooked were the pair of undercover cops who had been using the pub for so long now they’d almost become part of the furniture. He’d taken them as a young courting couple and was completely unaware he was the reason for them lingering so long in the pub.
As Ifty and Rita sat at the bar, Ifty’s mind drifted, thinking of what sort of car the two Asians would be happy with and what they’d want to pay. After a while, he went over and had a quiet word with one of them the word “inconspicuous” was used. “Inconspicuous” ran through Ifty’s head for a while and slowly he got a picture in his mind of the type of motor that would suit them. As Ifty knew dodgy types of people of all colour and creed, he knew he would have no problem delivering what was required when it was required.
Dell’s firm were all agreed. They’d meet Butler the next day and would most likely engage with his project. They were angered by what had been said, but they were also quite excited by the offer, so they’d tie up the loose ends and get involved. They had a few more
beers and then joined Burt and Mickey at the bar. Not a word was mentioned of Butler and his scheme and it would only ever be spoken about amongst the three of them.
It’s funny how things happen. Once upon a time, if you were a member of the police force, or for that matter, any person in authority, the Country was a very hostile establishment to enter, but all of a sudden the police were welcomed with open arms. The English, when pushed, will unite in the face of a common enemy. Some of the strangest liaisons occurred that way. Dell’s firm was no exception. They loved their country and its way of life, the same as everybody else. And it now looked like the bad boys and the good were going to join forces. It was therefore hoped that everyone present at this meeting would be satisfied with what was on offer and they could get on with Operation Desert Storm.
A restaurant in the Buckinghamshire town of Beaconsfield was chosen as the venue for a table for five. A short journey up the M40, out of West London, it was calculated to be just far enough away from the prying eyes of the big city for the men to merge into the scenery and talk the whole thing out unnoticed. It was a good choice as the restaurant was spacious and a table reserved in the very back would be perfect. They could conduct business without any unnecessary interruptions.
* * *
Dick Durley had had an exceptionally bad night descending into even deeper, darker depression, home alone, with no wife or son for company. Dick bombarded Rita with calls and texts, which all fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t sympathise with her husband whatsoever and felt very strongly that his current predicament was all of his own making. She was just happy to be away from him. He used to drive her mad before all this. What did he expect? Get on with it was her attitude. Bart on the other hand wasn’t quite as bad because he felt he had a chance and in his selfish little mind would let the old man become the fall guy, panic attacks or not.
