A Real Job (38 page)

As they walked into the living room, David looked down and saw Jimmy’s body lying on the floor with a large part of the back of his head missing. David paused for a moment as he looked around the room at the blood splattered patterns on the walls.

‘Messy isn’t it?’ Tim said, ‘it was a double tap to the back of the head.’

‘And it’s worse when it’s someone you know,’ David said as tears started to well in his eyes. Gathering his emotions together, he said, ‘As I walked in, there didn’t seem to be any sign of a forced entry?’

‘There’s not, so we’re assuming Jimmy knew whoever it was that killed him. We got the call about forty minutes ago. The neighbour in the flat above heard the gunshots and called the police. Although she wouldn’t be pinned down, the forensic pathologist reckons that would have been around the time when he died.’

Staring blankly at Tim, David said nothing for a moment. ‘The bastards! It was just over forty minutes ago when Jimmy called me. He said he was at Reilly’s in the city centre. He always went there on a Sunday afternoon to meet the other Irish ex-pats for a pint. There’s no way he could’ve got to the flat from the time he made the call to me, to when he got shot. He must have been here all the time.’

‘That’s important. What did he say?’ Tim asked.

‘He said he had to see me urgently as he had news about what’s going down with the Real IRA targets we’re dealing with and he said he was having a ciggie outside Reilly’s and that I was to meet him here at the flat. There was something else. Jimmy’s always been full of the old Blarney, but he went on about how he saw me as a good friend and how he valued what I did, as well as the fact he trusted me. It was how he said it that had me thinking, it was in a real sentimental way and then he abruptly ended the call. That’s not like him. He’s not sentimental at all and he always says good-bye along with some smart arsed comment. This time he didn’t.’ David paused for moment. He looked at Jimmy’s body, picturing what Jimmy’s last moments must have been like.

‘A penny for them,’ Tim said, ‘What are you thinking?’

‘It’s a fucking set up. They got Jimmy to call me so I would be out of the way in Chester. They’re up to something and that something’s happening right now. I reckon it’s also a warning. That’s what Jimmy must have meant when he said I had to watch my back.’

‘Seeing O’Byrne escaped from hospital a few hours ago, it could have been him that killed Jimmy?’

‘He’s what?’ David exclaimed, not believing what he had just heard.

‘Didn’t you know?’

‘No,’ David said shocked at hearing this.

‘As the Branch officers outside O’Byrne side room went to the toilet, he whacked the other Branch officer sitting by his bed, took his clothes, wallet, mobile phone and warrant card and ran off through the fire escape.’

‘When was this?’

‘Around half eleven this morning apparently.’

David looked at his watch. It was half past two. ‘It could have been him. He would’ve had enough time to steal a car and drive over from Liverpool, but the question is how did he know Jimmy was my snout? I suggest you get some of our lot down to Reilly’s straight away and question all the Irish punters in there. I’m with one of the Cheshire lads and we’d be more than happy to help,’ David said hoping the DCI would agree.

‘As you’ve a personal involvement in this death, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Apart from that, you’re needed back in Chester,. You could be right, it was a ruse to get you over here so you’re out of the way with what they plan to do next.’

‘I’ll make my way back to Chester now,’ David said as it dawned him that McCullagh was still in the Branch office in Chester with Debbie and George.

Chapter Thirty
Car Park outside Cheshire
Police Headquarters,
14.30,
Sunday, 7
th
July
 

As Debbie put the key in the ignition, she felt something push against her ribs. Looking down she saw McCullagh had a 0.38 revolver pointed at her. ‘Don’t fuck me about and do what I say,’ he said, ‘slowly, hand me your pistol.’

Debbie reached between her suit jacket and blouse where her 0.22 automatic pistol was in its holster. Holding the butt with the thumb and index finger, slowly she took it out of the holster and handed the weapon over to McCullagh, who put it in the foot-well of the front passenger seat. Praying for someone to pass by, especially George she said, ‘So you know that we know what you’ve been doing.’

‘What do you know that I’ve been doing?’ McCullagh asked.

‘That you’ve passed on intelligence reports to the IRA during your time in Special Branch.’

‘Well done. It’s only taken you bastards around twenty years to find out. I’m a proud Irishman. When I was eighteen, I got a job on my uncle’s farm in Enniskillen. That’s when I joined the Provisional’s. Being an unknown boy from the south with no criminal record, my brigade commander decided I’d be more useful if I joined the police in England. Being a small country force, Cheshire seemed a good choice and I worked my arse off to get into the CID so I could join Special Branch. Coming from Ireland they snapped me up for undercover work on the Provo’s. What they didn’t know I was working undercover for them.’

‘When did you realise we were onto you?’ Debbie asked, her mind working on how she could get out of this situation alive.

‘I was wondering why you were still in the office. I knew you’ve been up all night and hadn’t had any sleep. I also knew DI Byrne was tied up with Alec’s death and you’ve no role in that. As the rest of the team are out, including your boyfriend, it dawned on me why you were still there. Knowing three of the boys were arrested in Liverpool last night, I had a feeling your suspicions would’ve been confirmed by one of the three telling you something when they got interviewed. Knowing Danny and Rory wouldn’t talk, I realised the weak link was Michael Pickup. I put myself in his position. If I was arrested and questioned in relation to acts of terrorism and my criminal past was only being a simple tealeaf, I’d shit myself. I’d deny anything to do with terrorism and tell you what I knew. I can’t take the risk what the other two told Pickup about me before they got arrested so I need some insurance and you’re it. When I called into Alec’s room and saw you on e-Bay, I knew you were killing time waiting for George Byrne to return. That’s not what someone does when they’ve nothing to do for a few hours and they’ve had no sleep’

‘I’m impressed.’

‘We haven’t got much time,’ McCullagh snapped back impatiently, ‘Get your mobile, switch it off and hand it to me.’

Taking the phone out of the driver’s door compartment, she did as McCullagh requested. Handing it over to him, she said, ‘I see you’re taking no chances.’

Snatching the phone off Debbie he said, ‘Mine’s switched off too, so they can’t triangulate our position and we won’t be using the fancy sat-nav you’ve got in your car either. Has the car got a tracker?’

‘No’

‘Good and I hope for your sake you’re telling me the truth. Switch the engine on and head for the A55. We’re going for a little drive in the Welsh countryside and no-one will know where we are.’

*     *     *

Driving back to Chester, David got Tony to put his mobile phone on the speaker system in the car and he called George. ‘George, its David Hurst. Are you still with Debbie or has she turned in for the day?’

‘No. After I finished with Professional Standards I went to Alec’s office where she was supposed to wait for me and she wasn’t there. Before I go on, is it safe to speak?’

Giving the phrase he used to confirm it was safe, he said, ‘It was Norman Whiteside who stopped Everton getting the treble in 1985.’

‘Now just stay calm with what I’m going to tell you, I don’t want you going off the deep end.’

‘What the fuck’s going on George?’ David said recognising the tone in George’s voice that something bad had happened. Taking his foot off the accelerator and steering the car to the first lane he said, ‘Go on George, I’m still driving but I’ve slowed down. What’s happened?’

‘McCullagh’s the mole. With Debbie, I was going to arrest him after I finished with Professional Standards. As she wasn’t in Alec’s office, I asked if anyone had seen her. The only one who saw her was the security guard at the entrance to Cheshire’s Headquarters. She was with McCullagh and he watched them, get into her car. He said they had a brief chat before they set off. Her mobile’s switched off and she’s not answering her radio. On top of that her sat-nav’s also switched off, so we can’t find her position.’

‘Shit! I reckon he’s worked out you’ve found out he’s the mole and he’s on his toes. He’s probably conned her into taking him somewhere. Something’s not right. With Debbie’s poor sense of direction, she never switches the sat-nav off. McCullagh’s playing clever, making it hard for us to find them.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘I’m on the M53 just approaching Chester. It’s just an idea, but have you tried her personal mobile?’

‘I didn’t know she had one.’

‘Very few do and hopefully McCullagh won’t know either. If I give you the number, don’t ring it. If she’s smart, she’ll still have it switched on. See if you can get it triangulated so we can find out where she is. The number is zero seven zero one four nine eight three one three five.’

‘I’ll get onto that now.’

*     *     *

Driving along the A55 on the approach to Holywell, Debbie asked McCullagh, ‘Where are we going?’

‘A little place just outside Holyhead. When we get closer, I’ll direct you. Today is my last day in the police, so I’m picking up my pension this afternoon.’

‘Who are you meeting?’

‘Seeing how I’ll be well gone before you can do anything about it, it’s Declan Murphy. He’s paying me off.’

‘Is that with the money he got from Al Qaeda?’

‘In one,’ McCullagh said, still keeping his revolver pointed at Debbie. ‘I believe the paymaster is another friend of Hurst’s? A Mohammed Sayfel.’

‘You know it is,’ she said seeing the signs indicating there were road-works ahead. To get out of this position, she was hoping there would be a traffic queue. Even if there was a queue forcing her to stop, having a gun in her ribs, she knew it would be difficult to disarm McCullagh.

‘I read the report on that Al Qaeda job he was involved in a few months ago. I have to say, that was pretty good police-work. Being on Sayfel’s hit list as well as ours, Hurst’ll be lucky to survive long enough to pick up his pension.’

‘Don’t you worry, he can look after himself,’ Debbie said seeing that one lane was blocked by large traffic cones filtering traffic from the offside to the nearside lane. Although it forced her to slow down, the traffic was too light to form a queue.

‘I’m not worrying about him anymore. Once Murphy pays me, I’m out of the country.’

‘What about your wife and children, aren’t they joining you?’

‘The kids are old enough to look after themselves and I stopped loving the wife years ago. So I’ll be a free man and where I’m going not even Hurst could find me.’

‘If you do anything to me, he’ll find you and make you pay,’ Debbie said accelerating back up to seventy miles per hour having gone through the road-works.

‘That sounds like you think I’m going to kill you.’

‘Aren’t you? Surly leaving me alive will be too risky?’

‘Unless you do something stupid, I’m not going to harm a hair on your head. No, if everything goes according to plan, I want Hurst to find you and know that I could have killed you. From what I’ve seen, that will eat the Scouse bastard up. Every time he looks at you, he’ll remember that there was nothing he could do to help you,’ McCullagh said as he started laughing, ‘and knowing it was me that nearly got Steve Adams killed in ninety-six, it’ll really eat him up.’

Approaching Caeryws, Debbie remembered when travelling along this section in the past with David, he always slowed down saying that North Wales Police Traffic Department regularly had speed traps on this section of road. Accelerating up to over ninety miles per hour, she hoped they would be about and stop her for speeding. Sensing the car was picking up speed, McCullagh looked over at the speedometer and saw they were travelling at just over ninety miles per hour, heading up to a hundred. ‘Nice try,’ he said, ‘slow back down to seventy. We don’t want Traffic catching you speeding and making you stop, do we?’

‘I was trying to make good time. You don’t want to miss Murphy and his payout do you?’

‘Don’t worry about that. We’ve got plenty of time.’

*     *     *

George rang David back. Answering the phone, he said, ‘Make your way onto the A55. We’ve picked up the signal and she’s travelling through Wales, approaching St. Asaph. I’ve contacted North Wales Police and alerted them to what’s happening. They’ve circulated Debbie’s Saab, the registration number and their current location to all their patrols in the area.’

‘Thanks George, I’ll keep going along the A55 and see if I can catch them up.’

‘If you do, don’t get involved. Let North Wales do the stop. As I’ve a feeling McCullagh’s armed they’re sending armed response vehicles to the area. Once they’ve stopped the car and arrested McCullagh then you and Tony can assist North Wales.’

Switching on the blue lights discreetly placed behind the front grille and the siren on their unmarked Special Branch car, David accelerated hard. First a kidnap and potential murder attempt on his sister, now his life partner was in danger. This was personal. All Hurst could think of doing was getting hold of McCullagh and killing him.

Chapter Thirty-One
Park Road, Liverpool,
15.10 hours,
Sunday, 7
th
July
 

‘We need to meet,’ O’Byrne said calling Declan Murphy’s mobile phone from a public phone box. Feeling frustrated, not only had it been difficult to find a public phone box, but the first two he found had been vandalised. He was also frustrated because he wanted to deeply hurt David Hurst. Having found out his parents’ address in Isaac Street, he wanted to kill them to show their son how the Real IRA could get to his family. After the failed kidnapping, this was still unfinished business for O’Byrne. Knowing Mary and James Hurst were old, the Irishmen knew his physical strength could easily over power them. After fruitless and loud knocking on the door, Mary Hurst’s next-door neighbour came out and told him they had gone away on holiday. With what happened the previous night, O’Byrne knew it was no holiday they had gone to, it must be an MI5 safe-house.