The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) (30 page)

Annette interjected. “Because some fat cat wanted a pair of rare books.”

“Exactly. Those books were stolen to order and we need to know more about them. Who owned them originally and did they steal them in the first place? Carmen, what was the thief’s name being mentioned on the web?”

“Larry Benner.”

“OK, I’ll find out what I can about him. Was there any mention of where the books were to be stolen from and who the middle-man was who brokered one of them to Jules Robinson? And what about the man in Paris? Berger.”

“Not so far, but if I had a bit more time…”

“You’ve got it. Focus on that after you’ve given Liam everything he needs.”

“You mean ten pints of beer and a lads’ mag?”

It was the first joke Carmen had cracked since she’d joined them and everyone laughed, even Liam who tried for an offended frown then gave up and joined in.

“After that. You know where all the internet chat-rooms and back doors are. I want names; the original owner or owners of the books, the thief or thieves who stole them and details of all the middle-men in Belfast and Paris. Also, chase up the new buyer here.”

Annette gave a puzzled frown. “But why do we care, sir? Isn’t this work for cyber-crime?”

“Yes and no, Annette. We’ll hand over everything at close of play today, but my instinct says that the M.I.A won’t be content with just killing the people they’ve already killed and destroying the books. They’ll want everyone linked to the books they can find. They’ve only managed to kill two middle-men as far as we know; Jules Robinson and the man in Paris with Jennifer Weston. He was probably Berger but we need that confirmed. A café in the Marais was also mentioned, so was there another man there? If we know that these other people exist then so do the radicals and they’ll want them all dead. Davy, you know about rare books. A serious buyer would have put the word out that he wanted the books, yes?”

“Yes. That w…would have set people running to find them. Auctioneers, booksellers like Jules Robinson and all-out thieves.”

Craig nodded excitedly. “We have two locations; Belfast and Paris. That means the books were most likely owned by people in Europe somewhere, possibly two different owners, and stolen by European thieves. If the books were in Europe it’s probable that the buyers are as well. All of those people are sitting ducks just waiting to be killed.”

Annette nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. “We’re trying to prevent all these murders?”

“Yes.”

“Apart from the fact that it’s a nice thing to do, sir, surely it’s not our job? Unless…”

“We have a week left before we go on leave and I don’t like loose ends.”

Annette burst out laughing. “At least you’re honest about it. OK, let’s see what we can get. I just hope that in the process we don’t become targets as well.”

***

3 p.m.

Between Carmen and Davy working on the Ethernet, Liam squeezing every contact he had in Belfast, Craig doing the same in London and the Fraud Squad reluctantly opening their books to Annette, by three p.m. the trail had led them to two names and one of them was more familiar than Liam would have liked.

“What the hell is Tommy doing getting involved in this crap?”

Craig shook his head tiredly and swung his chair round to gaze out his window, trying to make sense of this latest twist. Liam hadn’t finished his rant.

“The stupid wee get. I thought he was going clean for the baby’s sake. And to think we got him a new house.”

Craig held up a hand to still his rant. It had been going on for five minutes and looked as if the steam Liam was generating was going to propel it for five more.

“Once a thief… anyway, we can debate Tommy’s ingratitude once we have him safely in an interview room. Get Reggie to lift him, Liam. Just say I want a chat. We need to find out what part he had in all this.”

“We know what part! He stole at least one of the books to order for Jules Robinson. An ex-cop in bed with Tommy Hill!”

The note of indignation in Liam’s voice almost made Craig laugh. He wasn’t offended by Tommy still walking a crooked path; he was offended that a cop had been working with him.

“Robinson may not have known that the book was stolen.”

Liam pointed out the window. “There goes that flying pig again…”

“Point taken. But either way, we’re not going to prosecute Jules Robinson’s corpse and all we have on Tommy is rumour, virtual rumour at that. I want who Tommy got the book from; they’d already stolen it from someone else. This isn’t about theft; it’s about preventing these fanatics from killing more people.”

He waved Liam out. “Tommy in High Street by four o’clock and we’re interviewing him together. I’ll meet you there.”

“What are you doing till then?”

“Trying to work out how to prevent the CIA putting him on a plane to Guantanamo.”

***

The name of the second book’s buyer was unfamiliar to Craig but it wasn’t to Ken Smith.

“I was right. It is the same Troy Keaton. Keaton’s one of the biggest illegal arms dealers in Europe; the bane of the legitimate military’s life. Every time we thought we had the guns off the streets in Kabul more would appear. He had a sales technique. He’d give the freedom fighters the first dozen guns free; so that everyone would see them and want one, then he’d make his profit off the next thousand they ordered. After that he’d introduce more sophisticated weapons so they would buy those and discard the old ones.”

“Smart marketing. Newer flashier versions to make people discard the old; just like mobile phone companies.”

Smith nodded at the analogy. Craig was making a list in his head, now he grabbed a flip chart and put it down.

“These are the names we have so far. Troy Keaton, the man lined up to buy the book in Paris.” He swung to check where Davy was. He was tapping furiously at one of his screens. “Davy. Do we know where Keaton is now?”

Davy thought for a moment then gave a half-nod.

“Why the hesitation?”

“W…We know where he was this morning. At home in Geneva. But he left for the International Airport thirty minutes ago.”

“On the run.”

“Probably. He must have heard about the explosion and put two and two together.”

“OK. It’s time to get him off the street, if only for his own safety.”

Craig turned to find Annette. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Nicky, where’s Annette?”

“She said she was following up a hunch.”

Craig smiled. He liked people to follow their hunches, even if they didn’t pan out.

“OK. Nicky, get onto the Cantonal police in Geneva and ask them to hold Troy Keaton at the airport until I get in touch. Tell them it’s on the basis of suspected theft and for his own protection.”

He turned back to Ken. “Liam’s gone to lift someone else for me, which leaves us with the local buyer Jules Robinson had lined-up for the first book; someone called Neeson according to what Carmen found on the web. That’s right Carmen, isn’t it?”

Carmen glanced up from the sandwich she was examining suspiciously. She was vegetarian and the pink substance inside had a distinctly carnivorous tinge. “His name is Jack Neeson. I have more on him if you’d like.”

“Please.” Craig waved her to take the floor.

“Jack Neeson, sixty-three years old. Retired banker who made his money in the City of London and started acquiring antiques when he was in his thirties. It’s rumoured that he has quite a collection of paintings and books.”

Craig raised a hand to stop her. “That reminds me; get onto the Antiquities’ Squad please. It’s time they got involved. Carry on.”

“The word is Neeson’s turned more to rare books in the past few years and he was definitely the name mentioned in association with Jules Robinson’s book.”

“Where is he living now?”

“Hillsborough. Near the castle.”

It was one of the wealthiest areas of Northern Ireland.

“How sure are we that he’s the Neeson mentioned on the web?”

Carmen smiled, not at the fact she knew the answer but at the trust in Craig’s voice. He’d trusted her opinion quickly; it made a refreshing change from the second guessing in Vice.

“One hundred percent. He’s the only one that ticks all the boxes.”

Craig nodded to himself, imagining Jack Neeson in some rural idyll playing golf, totally unaware that his steal-to-order request was about to disrupt his life.

“OK, Carmen contact C District and explain what’s happening. Neeson needs to be brought to High Street for questioning.”

He turned back to the flip chart but not before he saw Carmen’s excited smile. She’d handled the web side of things well, there was no reason she shouldn’t do the same with this, although he knew Liam wouldn’t be pleased by her autonomy.

“OK, so we know both buyers: Keaton and Neeson, and the likely thief Larry Benner. Carmen, get him lifted as well, please, wherever he is. We know that two of the middle-men are dead; the man in the bank who we think was Alain Berger, and Jules Robinson. Ken, until Annette comes back I want you to work with Davy on confirming Berger was the man at the Banque de Paris and finding the previous owner or owners of the books. When Annette returns track them down and do the same as we have with the buyers. The longer they’re out there unprotected the likelier it is that they’ll be killed.”

Craig glanced at his watch. “Right, it’s three-fifty. I’m heading to High Street to interview someone with Liam. We’ll reconvene at five for an update. Can I have a one page summary from each of you then please, ready to be handed over to the CIA.”

Carmen groaned. “Do we have to give it to them? They’ll wreck everything.”

“Yes, we do. They’re good at what they do and the special relationship has to be maintained. Ken, get onto Agents Ross and Mulhearn please and tell them I want them here at five, with an update on the location we gave them in Pakistan.”

Smith looked puzzled. “How will I contact them, sir? Through the American Embassy?”

“You could do. Alternatively you could just look out the window. They’ve been sitting outside in their car again for hours.”

***

High Street Station. 4 p.m.

By the time Craig reached High Street Liam had his feet up in the staff-room and was munching on a custard cream. Craig smiled hello to Jack Harris and deliberately knocked Liam’s feet off the coffee table as he walked by.

“We need to start; we have to be back by five. Where’s Tommy?”

Jack answered him. “Having tea and biccies in interview room one and ranting about the injustice of it all.”

“Injustice my foot. The only injustice here is that we ever believed he was going straight.”

Craig poured himself a coffee and headed for the door while Liam slipped some biscuits into his pocket for later. One minute later they were sitting opposite an unrepentant Tommy Hill who was munching noisily on a Rich Tea.

“Do you know why you’re here, Tommy?”

Tommy squinted at Craig, trying to muster up his animosity of a year before but failing. Craig and the ghost had done all right by him; they’d done for the scrote who’d killed Evie and now he’d got a nice new house in a posh area where he could live out his remaining days. So instead of his customary scowl, Tommy grinned at them. It wasn’t a sarcastic smirk or a pitying smile, he actually grinned, happily, like a normal person. Liam gawped at the old lag and then at Craig, who shook his head in disbelief.

“Tommy, are you taking this seriously? I repeat; do you know why you’re here?”

Hill maintained his sunny demeanour and gave an amused shrug. “’Cos you’ve nathin’ better tee do?”

Tommy was going to play the denial game and they didn’t have the time. Craig had come prepared. He took something from his pocket and set it on the desk so Hill could see. It was a photograph of Jules Robinson. They both saw the glimmer of recognition in Hill’s small eyes.

“Don’t bother denying that you know him, Tommy. How?”

Hill yawned and reached into his pocket for a cigarette, putting it un-lit into his mouth. The silence that followed said he was going to play games, so Liam did what he did best. He roared.

“We know you were working with him, Tommy. When did you two meet?” Liam slammed his palm down hard for emphasis making Hill jump back.

“Here, don’t be starting all that. I’ve dun nathin’”

Craig cut in. “You’ve done enough for us to take your new house away, so talk if you want any hope of holding onto it.”

Craig had no intention of blocking Hill’s house move but he needed answers and fear seemed like the quickest route.

Hill’s affability switched to a familiar scowl and he hissed at them under his breath. “I’ll kill both of ye if you try. See if I don’t.”

Craig rarely raised his voice but he did now. He rose to his feet and loomed over the small man.

“You stupid bastard, we’re trying to save your life here. Just answer the question. How do you know this man?”

Hill reared up so that his face was six inches from Craig’s and Liam watched as they stared each other out. Tommy blinked first and sat back heavily in his chair.

“He nicked me a few times, back in the day.”

Craig retook his seat. That may have been true but it was a more recent acquaintance he cared about. “Recently. What contact did you have with him recently?”

Hill considered for a moment, thinking about his new council house. His shoulders dropped, signalling concession. “He contacted me about some aul books he wanted.”

“And asked you to do what?”

“Well he didn’t ask me to buy them for him in Waterstones, did he?”

Liam leaned forward. “You stole them?”

Hill shook his head, surprising both men. “Nah. They was in England. I got a mate of mine tee nick them. He brought one over on the Liverpool–Belfast last week. I paid him and Robinson paid me.”

“Was your mate’s name Larry Benner by any chance?”

A quick creasing of Tommy’s forehead said yes.

“Did you meet him while enjoying Her Majesty’s hospitality?”

Still no answer but Craig was undeterred. He tried a different tack. “What happened to the second book, Tommy?”

Hill shrugged. “Benner got a better offer from some bloke in Paris. I only got one of them.”