Howard Linskey - The Dead

With two murder trials behind us and the police off my back, I was keen to be rid of the rest of my problems. Only one man could help me do that.

Amrein was taking afternoon tea in his hotel on the Quayside when I arrived. He was sitting on his own at one table, with two burly bodyguards occupying another, watching over him.

‘Amrein, I keep telling you, I need you to persuade this crazy Russian you set me up with that I don’t want to climb into bed with him, no matter how much he is offering. I need you to scare him, buy him, kill him if you have to, do whatever it takes, but I want him off my back permanently. Have I made myself incredibly clear about that?’

‘Yes you have… it’s just…’

‘It’s just what?’

‘Okay, you pay us for this kind of thing, usually, I understand that and so do the people I work for. They are highly sympathetic to your plight but we have a major problem here that we are thinking is beyond our capability.’

‘I don’t believe this.’

‘We anticipated you would be reluctant to do this kind of business with him, for obvious reasons, but the man is not known for accepting a refusal of any kind.’

‘I gathered that.’

‘And now you know a little of his plans, he will be even more reluctant to allow you to carry on outside of his Krysha , as he calls it.’

‘Are you telling me he is not scared of your organisation? Not in the slightest?’

‘The FSB and the GRU have been trying to get Vasnetsov for a decade. You think he is frightened of us?’

As well as attracting the ire of the FSB, Vasnetsov had to contend with the GRU, the Russian Foreign Military Intelligence service. He had made some powerful enemies.

‘Then kill the fucker.’

‘This is exactly what the Russians have been trying to do. They’ve had agents penetrate his organisation with the sole purpose of assassinating the man.’

‘And?’

‘They were exposed by his men and killed. He has some very clever people working for him and he pays them crazy money.’

‘What about a tribute of some kind; a pay-off, to make him look in another direction for his supply line.’ I was getting desperate now and I knew it, just as I knew Amrein’s answer before he gave it.

‘The man is worth twenty billion dollars. His fortune will increase massively if he can get this African oil project off the ground. What use does he have for your money or ours?’

‘And you can’t protect me from him?’

‘We could,’ he assured me, ‘if you were willing to live your life in something resembling a witness protection programme; change your name, your appearance, move to another country, never see any of your friends and family again then, yes, we could save you from this man, but that would be expensive, and how long could you continue to pay for this service if you are running your company from a desert island?’

‘Not long,’ I admitted, ‘this business doesn’t exactly take kindly to sleeping partners. You’d soon be dealing with someone else in Newcastle and then I’d just be an expensive house guest.’

‘Regrettably so,’ he told me, with characteristic honesty.

‘So then, in summary, I’m fucked.’

Amrein said nothing. It was the first time he hadn’t contradicted me, which told me everything I needed to know.

‘Let me ask you something Amrein, what would make the Stevic brothers come all the way from Belgrade to take me on?’ He opened his mouth as if to answer but I cut him off, ‘and don’t give me that bullshit about them thinking we’re weak.’

‘That is usually the way they operate.’

‘Since when has taking over Newcastle, Glasgow and Edinburgh been a sign of weakness?’

‘What then?’

‘It’s Vasnetsov,’ I told him. ‘He’s the man behind them. He’s got to be. I wasn’t certain until I offered them money to walk away.’

‘Money you had no intention of paying?’

‘I needed to be sure.’

‘It would explain why they turned you down,’ he admitted, ‘if they already have his money.’

‘Remember what he told me about Krysha ? If ever I have a problem I could come to him and he would make it disappear.’

‘And the Serbs would return to Belgrade and you would think it was because of him.’

‘And it would be,’ I said, ‘he’d send them home because he was the one who ordered them over here in the first place. How else could they get something on an Assistant Chief Constable? He set that up.’

Amrein thought for a moment, ‘I think you may be right, but what can you do about it?’

‘I can show him I don’t need his help to get rid of the Stevic brothers.’

As soon as I concluded my meeting with Amrein I took Palmer to one side. ‘I need you to use your skills and contacts,’ I explained, ‘the guys you knew from your time in the intelligence services.’

He was immediately evasive, ‘I was only ever seconded to those guys for short periods…’

I interrupted him, ‘Can we cut the crap, Palmer, because I haven’t got time for it? How long have I known you? I’ve seen what you can do. You weren’t seconded to anyone. You were the real deal, so can you afford me the courtesy of stopping with the denials?’

Palmer thought for a moment then said, ‘Sure. What is it you want?’

‘I need you to go off the grid for a while. Can you do that?’

‘Of course.’

‘There’s something important I need you to do for me.’

As DI Sharp walked into the station he immediately realised something was wrong. The whole atmosphere seemed different and he soon learned why. The top brass were here. He could see them at the far end of the room, across a sea of desks, but they hadn’t spotted him yet. They were standing outside his boss’ office, deep in conversation. He could tell they were waiting for something or someone and his first impulse was to turn around and march straight from the room. He’d go back down to the car park, climb into his car and drive away as fast as he could. He knew he’d not get far, but Sharp would take his chances that way rather than be arrested here in front of everybody he’d worked alongside for years. Ten years minimum , he thought and felt sick.

To the left and right of him, desks were occupied by fellow officers but nobody acknowledged him. They all knew. He’d witnessed this kind of thing before. An unsuspecting detective would walk in one day to find a reception committee waiting for him; senior brass, his boss, a couple of hand-picked fellow officers, chosen for their bulk and ability to quietly contain him without a fuss being made. Everyone would know in advance, no one would blink as he was arrested on suspicion of corruption, then escorted from the building.

Sharp was about to turn on his heel when his boss DCI White spotted him and shouted across the room, ‘Sharp!’ he called, just loud enough. Sharp couldn’t possibly claim he hadn’t heard.

‘Boss,’ replied Sharp, with a strained smile, but he could already feel his cheeks burning with shame.

DCI White nodded towards his vacant office, ‘We’d like a word.’

I was at home when the call came through. He didn’t say who it was but I didn’t need him to. The sound of those deep, rasping breaths was enough.

‘I didn’t tell you everything,’ he wheezed, ‘there’s something you want to know, but I’m wanting another five grand for the information.’

‘Really?’ I replied, astounded at the cheek of this guy, because I seriously doubted he had anything new to tell me, ‘and what would that be?’

‘The name of the man who killed your fatha.’

Like most pubs, the Newcastle Arms is busy at the weekend, particularly on a match day, but quiet during the week. I met my asthmatic informant in a near-empty bar.