A Day at the Races (15 page)

Her father had made sure; they had more than enough funds to start a new life in England.

They had prospered, and Odibodi had built up a successful import export business, and was supplying new and second hand upmarket cars to Nigeria and Ghana. His Company was importing cocoa and palm nut oil for processing into a wide range of products in Europe. He had also built up a major transport and trucking company, with depots throughout the UK and on the Continent.

Reichert got out his car and greeted Odobodi.

“Hi Emanuel, did everything go ok?”

“Absolutely no problem, but Miller was giving them the third degree, trying to find out who was behind the deal, but Amos who is from Brighton put on his dumb Polish act, and Watson who is from Liverpool pretended to be a deaf Ukrainian, so he got no info out of them.

The cars are on their way to Tilbury as we speak, they should be loaded on the “Queen of West Africa” tomorrow, then be on their way to Nigeria before the end of this week!”

“That’s great Emanuel, that’s wonderful news, have you got something for me?”

Odibodi handed him a small suitcase.

“There is £514,000 in there in twenties as you asked for, but I suggest we get into your car and count it, as I want to be sure you are happy with everything.

Also we found this, about 5 kg of what I believe, is pure cocaine in one of the cars when we were checking them out. It was found inside a panel in the boot, does it belong to you? ”

Reichert was taken aback and was shocked at this news.

“No but I think I know who it does. Look Emanuel drugs are not my scene, so if you want it, take it, and do as you think fit, I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

“OK I will pass it down the line to some of my people in Lagos, this is worth a serious amount of money, they will have a ready market for some of the coke heads down there. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“Positive Emanuel, I have no intention of getting involved in drugs, that’s not for me”

Reichert counted the cash, then after a long time, he signalled his approval that it was all there as they had agreed.

“I will bid you goodnight Emanuel, I need to get back to Manchester in a hurry, as I have a meeting later on today, thanks again for your help and of course you know you got a good deal.”

“Anytime I can get a 30% plus discount on cars like this, and a coke bonus I will take it every time. I will do very well on this deal, thanks a lot Dick.”

They bid one another good day; Reichert put the suitcase behind the drivers seat, and then drove off back to Manchester.

* * *

Detective Chief Inspector Dave Hilton was in his office on January 29th, when a call was put through to him.

“Hello Sir, its Peter on the front desk, there is a guy on the phone who says he has information on drug dealing in the Manchester area. He is a bit difficult to understand, I think he could be African, but I think you should talk to him.”

“OK Peter put him through.”

“Detective Chief Inspector Dave Hilton speaking, I understand you have some information?”

“Chief Inspector Hilton, I don’t want to give my name, but I have some information that you might be interested in. A well know member of the community in Manchester, is dealing in drugs and is running his operation from Central Cars, and he goes under the name of John Miller.”

The person spoke with a strong West African accent, and the Detective Chief Inspector, was trying to figure out the country.

“How do you know this?”

“I have had dealings with this person, you can take it from me, this information is true and correct, but its up to you if you want to do anything about it. He is importing cocaine, hidden inside top of the range cars, coming in from the continent, that’s all I am going to say.” With that he put down the phone.

Chief Inspector Hilton immediately called a meeting with his senior officers and the drugs unit, and he conveyed to them the conversation he had just had with the telephone caller.

“Its hard to know if this guy was genuine, he sounded West African, possibly from Nigeria or Ghana with the odd twinge of a Manchester accent thrown in, but the gist of what he says is, that John Miller from Central Cars is running a drugs importation racket.

My gut feeling is that the information could be genuine, and that we should put Miller under close observation, and this could be an important lead for us. Miller has already been seen in the company of Mc Alpine, a known drug dealer and our prime suspect in the Wetherby robbery.

Remember the fire at the Steel Brick works, where we found all the drugs paraphernalia, well that place was owned by Miller from Central Cars and we are still investigating that, so this could be the missing piece of the jigsaw that we are looking for?”

It was decided at that meeting, to put in place a full-scale operation to monitor Miller and any of his friends. They applied for permission to put phone taps on his business and private telephone no’s, and this was granted.

After a few weeks of a detailed monitoring program, the Police felt they had sufficient evidence to mount raids. Timing was of the essence and they wanted to act as soon as they had enough evidence to arrest those involved in the Wetherby robbery, as well as the people responsible, for the huge upsurge in drugs that were being offered for sale in the north of England.

Chapter 18

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28th February, operation “PEEL TOWER” was launched.

This involved a large force of Police both in the UK and on the Continent and it was decided that Dermot Mc Alpine, would be the first person on the hit list.

The raid was to be carried out, by the special task force against organised crime and was led by Commander Philip Dunlop of the Metropolitan Police. They had surrounded Mc Alpines mansion in Cheshire, armed Police were positioned all around the outside perimeter wall of his property.

A JCB removed the large steel gates at the entrance of the imposing property, as quickly and quietly as they could.

Police moved as silently as possible, up the long winding driveway that was lined with thick vegetation that luckily shielded then from view from the house, and they were rapidly inside, along with a few support vehicles.

It was a bitterly cold morning with a heavy ground frost, the breath from all the officers involved, was forming like small clouds around the perimeter wall, and Detective Chief Inspector Hilton was afraid it might give the game away, so they would need to act fast.

They cut the telephone lines to the property, to cut off any chance of outside contact, and a number of the armed officers, scaled the high perimeter wall around the property and dropped silently to the ground, and took up their positions.

The front door of the property was deemed too secure to gain access, so it was decided to go in through two rear doors, one leading into the kitchen and another one through into a sunroom.

When all the officers were in position, the signal was given at 5.30 a.m. and the squad moved in and knocked down the doors, with their heavy battering rams. Armed officers raced into the building screaming Police at the top of their voices and in general making as much noise as they could.

They cleared the rooms on the ground floor, throwing in stun grenades before entering room after room, but found no one.

They were just climbing the stairs to the first floor, when suddenly a tremendous burst of gunfire rang out from the landing.

Bullets sprayed everywhere, plaster was falling from the walls and the noise was deafening, as bullets thudded into the brickwork, all the way down the stairs large splinters of wood flew everywhere, as bullets ripped into the woodwork of the ornate panelled staircase. Doors and windows shattered, under the hail of bullets, and the smell of cordite was everywhere.

“Take cover and pull back.” Shouted the lead officer.

The firing stopped.

“One man down Sir, it’s Regan he has been hit in the arm and upper leg, I have dragged him back into the kitchen.”

They all took cover, then waited for the next command. The injured officer was taken outside to a place of safety. He was given first aid in the command vehicle, thankfully his injuries were not life threatening, but he was removed immediately to hospital.

The operation was being lead, by Commander Philip Dunlop.

He was a veteran Policeman of over twenty five years service, and he quickly called his lead officers together.

“I didn’t expect that, it sounded like an AK47, that’s a bloody lethal weapon and I don’t intend to lose any more men. It’s time for a change of tactics. We will fire in tear gas from the outside and try and flush them out. Make sure all officers have their gas masks on, check your body armour and keep under cover until I give the signal.

It is obvious that they have no intention at this stage, in being taken alive or surrendering, so I am giving you the order to shoot to kill.

We cannot take the risk of any of these guys escaping, so the minute you see any of them, unless they drop their weapons and place their hands in the air, which I think is very unlikely, let fly with as much lead as you can. Let’s silence these bastards as quickly as possible, but remember keep your heads down, I don’t want anymore casualties.”

The lead Officers briefed their men, as to what they had to do, then organised the various groups into their battle stations.

Expert Police marksmen took up their positions, and on command several canisters of tear gas were fired from outside, through the windows into most of the bedrooms on the first floor.

Soon afterwards, a number of shots were fired from the windows at the police, but none of them hit their targets.

Gas was seen pouring out of the broken windows on the first floor at the front of the building and it was hard to understand how anyone could stay in there without the proper breathing apparatus.

It could also be seen coming from under the door where the suspect was thought to be hiding. These were tense moments as Police waited with their weapons trained on this area.

Suddenly after about 5 minutes, a door on the first floor landing burst open, and a gang member armed with an AK47 in each hand and a towel wrapped around his head covering his mouth, burst out, spaying dozens of rounds at the police as he raced across the landing. He was making for a stairs that led up to the top floor of the building.

He didn’t make it, several Police marksman, opened up rapid fire with their Heckler & Koch rifles. The first rounds hit him in the neck, and a dozen more rounds hit him in the back of his head and removed most of his brain. Brain tissue and fragments of bone splattered onto the walls and blood was pumping out profusely from what remained of his head. The force of the impact of the incoming lead sent him cart wheeling across the landing, as a dozen more shots thudded into his lifeless body. He was hit in excess of fifty times and most of his head had been removed and his limbs were barely recognisable and he looked like a bloodied rag doll.

The police ceased firing.

“I suggest that you all throw down your weapons, you are not going anywhere, you are completely surrounded, and I don’t want to see any more casualties.”

There was silence – nothing - no one moved - after a further wait, police advanced slowly up the stairs to check for other members of the gang; all the time their colleagues covered them.

They couldn’t identify the victim, he was too badly injured with most of his head and face removed, but at first glance, one officer who new Mc Alpine said it wasn’t him, he wasn’t tall enough.

By now most of the tear gas had evaporated, although a pungent smell still hung in the atmosphere.

They threw in a stun grenade, before they entered to check the bedroom the gang member had come from, but found no one else.

“Mc Alpine is still our main target and our information is that he is in here somewhere, but there are sixty nine rooms in this house and he could be anywhere, so be on your guard, he is a nasty piece of work.” said Commander Dunlop.

They systematically went from room to room, thoroughly checking every place that he could hide. Every room on the first floor was checked, but there was still no sign of Mc Alpine.

“He has to be on the second floor then, I suggest we use some more shock and awe tactics, by now they must know we mean business, but we have more fire power than they do. So lets go to it and end this as quickly as possible, but be on your guard.” said Commander Dunlop.

The lead officer nodded, and on the signal, Police raced up the stairs to the second floor, shouting at the top of their voices and banging on the walls to create as much noise as possible. They went from room to room, throwing in stun grenades and breaking in any doors that were locked, but there was still no sign of Mc Alpine.

Substantial double doors at the end of the corridor caught their attention, but they were locked, so they called for the battering ram, and after a couple of thumps burst them open. They threw in a stun grenade, before racing inside, screaming at the top of their voices.

As the smoke cleared, they could see that the room was empty, except for a large oversized bed in the middle of the room that had crumpled bedclothes on it.

Officer Boden felt the bed.

“Its still warm, somebody must have been in it recently.”

They looked under the bed, but it was clear, they opened a couple of wardrobes, but they were empty except for a few clothes.

There was a small door on the wall, about four feet from the floor, with small double doors about two eighteen inches square.

“I wonder what the hell that is, it’s far too small for an access door?” Said one of the officers.

They cautiously opened the door, and it revealed a metal lined square chute.

“Looks like an air conditioning duct.” said officer Barnes.

“No, I think it’s a laundry chute.” said officer Boden.

Cautiously they looked up the chute but it was too dark to see anything, so they shone a torch up, but the chute came to an abrupt end. They then shone the torch down the chute and couldn’t believe what they saw.