The Last Big Job (51 page)

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Authors: Nick Oldham

Tags: #thriller, #crime, #police procedural, #bristish detective

BOOK: The Last Big Job
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She managed a smile and nodded compliantly.

It was twenty-four hours later, the day after Henry had met
and questioned Alexandr Drozdov. Henry and Danny were standing in
an interview room in the main police station in Santa de la Cruz,
Tenerife, having landed from England only a couple of hours
previously. Two Spanish detectives sat behind them, looking bored,
observing their heated exchange with indifference. On the other
side of a huge, two-way plate-glass mirror sat the lone figure of
the man who had phoned
Crimestoppers
and demanded to speak
urgently to DI Henry Christie.

The mystery caller had claimed, ‘I have information for you
that will lead you straight to the man who planned and pulled the
M6 robbery and who also killed those three people in Blackpool. I
know him personally and I know where you can find him. I live in
Tenerife and I want you, Mr Christie, to come out here personally
and talk to me - now. And I want the reward money, because I know
that the information I give will lead you to his arrest and
conviction. But you must give me protection.’

Henry had taken a deep breath and said, ‘How can I believe
you? I’ve had hundreds of calls claiming the same since the robbery
happened. I can’t afford to go off on a wild-goose, chase.’ Henry
had to be cagey without losing the man because, somehow, he sensed
this was the big break, and it needed to be handled
correctly.


Here’s a titbit for you. If you are any sort of detective,
you should have found this out by now - and it’s not something
you’re likely to reveal to the press just yet. One of the security
guards was in on the job. His name was Colin Hodge.’

Henry looked quickly at Danny and winked. The strong suspicion
that Hodge was the inside man had not been revealed to anyone
outside a very privileged few.


I take it from that pause I’ve hit the nail on the head,’ the
man said.


Tapped it, perhaps,’ Henry said, trying to contain his
excitement. ‘Can you give me any further details?’


He came out to the island before the robbery and had a
planning session with the man who is behind it all. I might have
been able to guess the first bit, but not that - so, are you coming
out here?’


Yes, I think so.’


I want three grand up front - and I also want you to remember
that because I’ve made this call, my life isn’t worth shit now. If
he finds out, he’ll do me in, guaranteed.’

Henry was thinking fast. ‘The up-front money is no problem.
Ring me back in an hour and I’ll tell you what’s happening, unless
you want to give me your number.’


Yeah, sure. Think I was born yesterday, do you?’


OK, that’s fair enough. You’ll need a code-name,’ Henry said.
‘We don’t use real names over the phone - just in case.’


Nero,’ the man suggested quickly.


OK, Nero - give me one hour,’ Henry reiterated. ‘Ring back
via
Crimestoppers
again - it’s safer that way.’

By the time that hour had passed, it was almost midnight. FB
had been woken up and apprised of the new development. Groggily he
had said, ‘You and DS Furness go if you think it’s necessary.’
Henry had also arranged for three thousand pounds to be paid to him
from the informants fund. Booking a flight or accommodation had
been impossible at that time of night.

Sixty-one minutes later,
Crimestoppers
connected Nero through
to Henry’s extension. ‘The money has been sorted and I can come and
see you. Obviously I can’t book a flight at this time of day, that
will have to wait until morning. Call back at ten - we’re in the
same time zone, aren’t we?’


OK - but if you haven’t sorted out a flight by then, the
deal’s off. I can’t afford to wait around.’

Henry smirked, knowing he was being bullshitted. He had vast
experience of dealing with informants, or ‘sources’ to use police
jargon. They rarely stopped once they’d started because they are
usually driven people - driven by revenge, greed, or both, or they
actually like being informants, enjoy playing the game, being a
double-agent, living on the edge of what has often been a worthless
life. ‘Don’t worry,’ Henry said, ‘everything will be sorted ... but
there is one thing.’


What?’ asked the source dubiously.


Give me something else now, prove your
credentials.’

Henry heard the man clicking his tongue, thinking.


It doesn’t have to be mega,’ Henry encouraged him.


Maybe tomorrow,’ he said and hung up.

Henry and Danny spent the remainder of that night at the
Training School in separate rooms, and were up by seven. After a
hurried breakfast, they both drove back to Blackpool to their
respective homes. Henry had breezed into his house like he was
doing the most normal thing in the world, dashed around like a
whirlwind, finding his passport, stuffing clothing and shoes into a
holdall. He kissed Kate in passing, gave Jenny and Leanne a quick
peck on the cheeks and was gone, with no real explanation, no
proper conversation, just a hurried, ‘Got to get to Tenerife. . .
might have cracked this job. . . shouldn’t be gone too long... give
you a bell, love... bye!’ Then breezing quickly past a speechless
wife.

Pulling away in his car he felt an absolute bastard and when
he glimpsed the stony-faced figure of Kate standing in the bay
window, he felt physically sick. Yet he pressed on and was back at
Headquarters before nine to find Danny had beaten him and was
already phoning around for flight tickets. Henry sorted out money
and accommodation and made brief contact with the Criminal Justice
Support, National Criminal Intelligence Service at Scotland Yard
and the Spanish police in Tenerife to tell them all, as a matter of
courtesy, his plans.

Danny quickly secured two cancellations on a holiday charter.
The tickets would be made available at Manchester Airport and they
had to be there at 1p.m. for a 2.30 p.m. flight. She then booked a
hire car for collection at the airport in Tenerife.

The source rang again on the dot of ten. ‘This is
Nero.’


How are you?’


Getting jittery already - but never mind that. What’s
happening?’


I should be in Tenerife by seven this evening, landing at
Reina Sofia. What arrangements do you want to make to
meet?’


That’s too close to home. I can’t see you there. What about
Santa de la Cruz, ten tonight?’


Cuts it pretty fine, doesn’t allow for any
delays.’


I’ll wait for you - for a while, anyway.’


Where shall we meet?’


At the cop shop. You parade up and down in front of it and
I’ll approach you. It’ll be safe enough there for me, I
guess.’


I’ll arrange it,’ Henry said quickly. ‘How will you know
me?’


I’ve seen your picture in the papers, apart from which you’ll
be the only arsehole parading up and down outside the police
station.’


Fair point. So ... can you give me something else now?’ Henry
asked.


Let me think ... something a bit tasty. How about an ex-cop
living out here with very close ties to the man you’re after? I’ll
blow the whole caboodle on him, too.’ He hung up.

Henry turned to Danny and FB, who had arrived by then, and
said, ‘He’s going to give us Barney Gillrow too.’

Just over twelve hours later, Henry had met Nero outside the
police station in Santa de la Cruz and hustled him into an
interview room.

Arranging facilities with the Spanish police had been easy.
The relationship between the Spaniards and the British police was
extremely good, mainly because the international drugs problem is
common
to both countries, as are many of
the criminals. In his time on the RCS Henry had worked in Spain, -
though not the Canaries - on a number of occasions, mostly on
surveillance jobs.

Henry went alone into the interview room. Danny watched and
listened through the two-way mirror.


First things first. I need to know who you are,’ Henry said
as he sat.


No,
my
first things first. Where is my three thousand
pounds?’


You’ll get your money when I’m satisfied that your product is
worth paying for,’ Henry said firmly. ‘Let me make something
crystal clear from the outset. I am in charge of this process, not
you. I decide how it goes. I understand you want to come out of it
with a bucketful of money, probably with protected status too, and
I don’t have a problem with that. At the same time you have a
desire to tell me, for whatever reason, about someone who has
committed very serious crimes. Whilst I am eager for you to give me
this information, you must understand that all it does is support
my own evidence. I will arrange for the money and the protection,
don’t worry about that. But the agenda is mine - all mine.’ Henry
paused and looked squarely at the man who had a face full of
bruises and a left hand wrapped with grimy bandages which stunk.
‘What is your name?’


Lawrence David Brayfield, born sixth June 1953. My friends
call me Loz.’


Thank you - Loz.’

In
the other room, Danny scribbled
these details down and was on the phone a minute later, checking
him out.


Speaking broadly, Loz, not specifically yet, what information
can you give me?’


The name of the man who murdered three people in Blackpool
and the definite reason why he killed two of them. And the name of
the man, the same guy, who pulled that big security van job on the
M6. I can blow open wide the drug-smuggling operation this guy
operates from here. I can give you names of suppliers, dates of
deliveries, names of couriers ... fucking everything. I can also
tell you about an ex-cop who was on the take from this guy
too.’


What is the man’s name?’


Billy Crane. Barney Gillrow is the ex-cop.’

As easy as that, Henry thought triumphantly.

 

 

So that Crane would not be alerted, Henry decided it would be
prudent if their singing informant was to continue to lead a normal
life, run Crane’s legitimate businesses in and around Los
Cristianos whilst he was bled white of information during regular
debriefs. Once there was enough to move against Crane, Henry would
then arrange for Loz to meet a Witness Protection Officer who was
due to fly out from the Metropolitan Police. From then on, Lawrence
Brayfield’s life would change for ever.

Although Henry’s decision was perfectly sound, there was a
personal angle to it as it gave both him and Danny time to spend
together. They were in adjacent rooms in the hotel in Los
Cristianos Danny had stayed in previously and were able to divide
their time between speaking to Loz and indulging in wonderful sex,
wine and food (in that order) as their love blossomed in the
sub-tropical heat.

Loz grassed everything. It was obvious he was a man bearing a
huge grudge against Crane. He blew apart Crane’s drug operation,
revealing that many young travel company representatives were on
the payroll, eager to supplement their meagre earnings by
identifying potential mules amongst their clients. Loz openly
admitted his part in the operation, that of actually employing the
mules, packing their cases for them with gear and paying them. He
said he had employed Cheryl Jones and packed her case for her. He
gave the names of the drugs suppliers from whom Crane bought his
stocks, gave details of other names, dates and places which Henry
and Danny enthusiastically noted down. He told them of Don Smith’s
role of distributor in the UK and gave a list of further contacts
in England. He also told how angry Crane had been to lose the
£50,000 worth of drugs carried by Cheryl Jones; how he had punished
Loz by feeding his hand to a lion (so there
is
a lion in Los Cristianos, Danny
had thought at that point. My ears weren’t playing tricks with me).
And how Crane had gone to England to exact revenge which would give
out a clear message to other mules who might be stupid, by killing
Cheryl and her boyfriend. He provided Henry with some bank account
details, too.

He had told Henry how annoyed Crane had been on his more
recent return from the UK when Loz had bragged to him about
‘sorting out’ the woman detective. Henry wrote down the exact words
Loz said Crane had uttered about the M6 robbery, the deaths
associated with it and his admissions about killing Cheryl, Spencer
and another man - Malcolm Fitch.

Loz did mention Barney Gillrow, but did not really have as
much information about him as he had initially
maintained.

On the third day of their stay in Tenerife, Henry formally
requested the assistance of the local police to arrest Billy Crane
who was believed to be residing in his villa on La Gomera, after
which extradition proceedings would be instituted. The basis of his
request - made through the necessary legal channels - was on
Crane’s involvement in the robbery and the murders he had
committed. He didn’t tell the locals too much about Crane’s
Tenerife-based drugs business, because they might have wanted to
deal with that first, which would have slowed things up
considerably. Henry wanted to get Crane back to the UK as quickly
as possible.

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