Guns Of Brixton (20 page)

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Authors: Mark Timlin

BOOK: Guns Of Brixton
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    'You
saw about this thing down on the motorway the other day,' said Detective
Inspector Alan Mobray once Sean was seated in the uncomfortable visitor's chair
in front of Mobray's desk. The DI didn't like anyone to feel too comfortable in
his presence, including his own troops.

    'Thing,
guv?' The DI was known to be a bit of a poet on the quiet and didn't always
explain exactly what he was thinking about, rather hoping that his subordinates
could read his mind.

    'Drugs
exchange at a Little Chef near Basingstoke. It's all in the morning's orders.
Someone told tales out of school. Local drug squad nicked a couple of krauts
with the dough. Some kid got away with the gear and wreaked havoc on the M4.'

    'Yes,
guv,' said Sean. 'I saw it. What's it got to do with us?'

    'Maybe
nothing. But a whisper came up from the nameless, faceless grass who's been
feeding the drug squad information and whose identity we're not privileged to
know.'

    'A
whisper about what?'

    'Who.
An old villain who's been a bit quiet lately.'

    'Guv?'

    'John
Jenner. Know anything about him?'

    Sean
felt his stomach lurch. Of course he knew about Jenner. His father had been in
his gang, and of course the father of Jenner's adopted nephew, Mark, had been
murdered by Jimmy. Then there was that business with Linda…

    'No,
guv,' he said.

    'Then
you're just about to. Take anyone who's free and give our Mr Jenner a visit. Bobby
Childs will probably be best.'

    This
was the moment Sean had been dreading since he'd been transferred to Streatham
nick. A face to face with Jenner.

    'Yes…
Childs,' said Mobray looking at his watch. 'Dig him out of the canteen. That's
where he seems to spend most of his time lately.'

    Childs
was a DC coming up to retirement. A good, solid, old fashioned copper which was
probably why he'd been sidelined from promotion. Good, solid coppering was out
of fashion in the new Metropolitan Police Service - as opposed to the old
police force, which was what Childs continued to call it. Force being what he'd
been used to wielding in the good old, bad old, days before PACE and when PC
still meant police constable. 'He'll fill you in,' Mobray went on. 'They've had
their share of run-ins in the past.'

    'Jenner
got much of a record, guv?' asked Sean, although he probably knew it as well as
his own name.

    Mobray
shook his head. 'Slippery bastard,' he said. 'Never done a stretch. Time on
remand is all. Then, before the trial, witnesses start forgetting such things
as their own names or else relocate somewhere quiet and far away like the
Hebrides.'

    'I
know the type.'

    'Well,
get to know this individual,' said Mobray. 'He may be a bit past it, but I'd
still like to see him do some time.'

    Sean
nodded.

    'Go
on then,' Mobray said when Sean made no attempt to move.

    'Sorry,
guv,' he said, and left the room closing the door quietly behind him.

    As
Mobray had had predicted, Childs was sitting at a table in the canteen drinking
a cup of something warm. 'Bobby,' said Sean.

    'Yes,
young man. What can I do for you?'

    'John
Jenner.'

    'Christ.
That's a name from the past.'

    'Could
be current.' Sean told him what the DI had told him.

    'Beautiful,'
said Childs. 'That's one fucker I'd love to see banged up before I go. Would
make growing my sweet peas down in Kent even sweeter.'

    For
their retirement, Childs had bought himself and his wife a freestanding caravan
on a site near Canterbury. He often showed photos around the squad room of its
interior, all swagged curtains and etched glass. Outside was a large garden
that Childs intended to turn into a new Eden.

    'Let's
see what we can do then,' said Sean.

    They
signed out for an unmarked car and headed towards Jenner's address. An address
that Sean knew well, though he feigned ignorance. 'Nice gaff,' said Childs.
'The wages of sin. Had it for years. Used to live there with his missus Hazel.
Fabulous woman, I've got to say. What she ever saw in that bugger I'll never
know.'

    'Children?'
asked Sean.

    'Strange
one,' said Childs. 'One daughter. Martine. Like her mum. Then there's the lad.'

    'Yeah?'

    'Yeah.
One of our own.'

    'How
do you mean?'

    'The
son of a copper. Billy Farrow. DS shot dead in Brixton way back in the early
eighties. The boy was brought up by his mother. But she fell in with a bad lot.
Started on the sauce, got married to a right bastard. Then she died and he
disappeared. Meanwhile…' He let a moment pass. 'Meanwhile, the boy - Mark I
think his name was - was being looked after by Jenner and Hazel and some old
lag who drives Jenner about. Part of the family. Seems there was some history
between Jenner and Farrow. Boyhood friends. I think the Met tried to intervene
but the kid wanted to stay at Jenner's. All sorts of lawyers got involved.'

    'Where
is he now?'

    'Who?'

    'The
boy.'

    'Dunno.
He took it on his toes too. Years back. All very strange.'

    'So what
about this Jenner then?' asked Sean, still feigning ignorance. 'What's his
story?'

    'What
isn't? He's been a face locally since the 60s. Into everything. Drugs,
protection, armed robbery. The whole nine yards.'

    'But
you've never been able to get him.'

    'No.
He had some help for a while from a bent copper named Sharman. Kept him one
step in front of us for years until the bastard got found
with
his
fingers in the drugs cupboard at Brixton nick and slung out. He was still
around 'til recently, pretending to be a private detective. But now he's gone
missing too.'

    'A
lot of people go missing round Jenner.'

    'You
can say that again. Vicious bastard. Here we are.' The car drew up outside John
Jenner's house and the two coppers got out into the cold morning air. The black
Mercedes was parked opposite with two up. Childs nudged Sean. 'What do you
reckon about that?' he asked.

    'God
knows.'

    'Maybe
we will too. I've got the number.' Childs rang the bell next to the gate.

    'What?'
a voice demanded after a minute.

    'If
that's Chas,' said Childs. 'Be nice now.'

    'Who
is it?' the voice asked.

    'DC
Childs from Streatham nick and DS Pierce.'

    'What
do you want?'

    'To
come in?'

    'Got
a warrant?'

    'Don't
be silly. Just a chat. Nothing heavy.'

    The
speaker was silent for half a minute and Childs pulled a face. Then, without
warning the gates swung open. 'Welcome to the house of fun,' said Childs and
they walked up the drive past the cars parked there.

    The
door was opened by Chas, who stood like a statue with a sneer on his face.
'Childs,' he said. 'I thought you were dead.'

    'Hoped
more like,' said the detective.

    'If
the cap fits.'

    'This
is Detective Sergeant Pierce,' Childs said. 'New in the manor. Come to make
your acquaintances.'

    Sean
just nodded.

    Chas
pretended that he didn't know the younger man, but he would've recognised him
in a crowd. He was the spitting image of Jimmy Hunter at the same age, and it
took all of his self control to keep his hands off him. Billy Farrow had been a
friend of his, and Chas was a firm believer that the sins of the father should
be heaped upon the son unto several generations.

    'Come
in then,' he said. 'Mr Jenner's in the living room.'

    John
Jenner was sitting in his armchair, a rug around his knees. 'I'd stand,' he
said as the two policemen came in. 'But I've not been well.'

    'I'm
sorry to hear that,' said Childs.

    'Course
you are.'

    'This
is DS Pierce,' said Childs, introducing Sean. Jenner gave him a look that could
have frozen meat, and Sean had a sudden intuition that Jenner knew exactly who
he was. But how could he?

    'Sit down,'
said Jenner. 'You're making me dizzy.' The coppers sat on the sofa and Jenner
said: 'So what brings you here?'

    'Your
name came up,' said Childs. 'With regard to a drugs deal. You might've seen it
on TV or in the paper. Day before yesterday down near Basingstoke. There was a
car chase…'

    'Can't
say that I have,' said Jenner. 'Don't read the papers much these days, the news
is too depressing. And I prefer nature programmes on TV.'

    'Yes,
John,' said Childs. 'Of course you do.'

    'Mr
Jenner will do nicely,' said Jenner. 'I'm not your mate.'

    'You
can say that again.'

    'So
what do you want?'

    'Just
to see if you had any idea why someone would mention your name.'

    'No
idea.' But Jenner was very interested. Very interested indeed. He wanted to
know who'd put his name in the frame so that he could deal out retribution. If
not personally, at least through a third party. Mark Farrow to be precise. A
whisper had reached him that the word was out about the exchange and the word
had turned out to have been correct.

    'So
who was it?' he asked, hardly expecting an answer.

    And
he wasn't to be disappointed. Childs grinned and almost laughed out loud.
'Never you mind, Mr Jenner,' he said. 'Just let's say that someone doesn't like
you.' Of course, he didn't add that neither of the coppers knew who the
informer was either. But Childs had always pretended to know more than he did.

    'Nothing
new there then,' said Jenner.

    'Fair
enough. Mind if we take a look round?'

    'Mind
if I look at your warrant?'

    Childs
smiled again. 'No warrant. But as you're an upstanding citizen we thought you
might like to help.'

    'I'd
like to help you leave,' said Jenner. 'All my life people like you have been
coming here on the off chance. And what did you ever get to show for it? A few
months on remand. I'm a businessman. My name is known. People don't like my
success. They get jealous. They try and stitch me up.' He shrugged as if to
say: 'What can you do?'

    'Your
name's not as well known as it used to be,' said Childs.

    'Just
as well. Keeps you lot out of my face.'

    'Nice
car,' said Childs, changing the subject suddenly.

    'What?'

    'The
Bentley. Nice motor.'

    'They're
famed for it,' said Jenner.

    'Expensive.'

    'I
can see you don't miss much. What are you driving these days? A Nissan or
something?' Childs ignored him.

    'And
the Range Rover. Whose is that?'

    'Mine.
I took it in payment for a debt.'

    'Something
from Basingstoke, was it?'

    'You've
got bloody Basingstoke on the brain. No.'

    'And
who's in the Mercedes parked opposite?'

    'Friends.'

    'Not
good enough friends to invite in?'

    'Look,
Childs,' said Jenner. 'And you, whatever your name is,' he added in Sean's
direction. 'Come to the point or do one.'

    Childs
could see that they weren't going to get much from the interview and all Sean
wanted to do was leave. Jenner had been giving him stony looks from the off.

    'Well,'
said Childs. 'Thanks for all your help, Mr Jenner. We'd better be on our way.
We'll see ourselves out.'

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