Nick Oldham - Substantial Threat

‘How?’

‘Jack is well in with a number of bent drivers.’

‘Thought as much. So he’s been importing people in general and prostitutes in particular? The people get dumped and the hookers end up working in grotty flats — am I on the right track?’

‘More or less, except that Marty being Marty, nothing was quite so easy. He needed a lot of start-up money, apparently, which he didn’t have, so he took out loans from the Spaniards. Trouble was, Marty was terrible with money. He couldn’t add up, but he managed to subtract a lot into his own wallet and lost a lot through gambling: horses, casinos, the lot. The loan repayments kept being extended until such time as they were called in and Marty found himself repaying to a deadline, which he could not meet. In a panic, Marty skimmed from Ray, but could not accumulate enough and blamed others?’

‘Such as JJ?’

‘Yes. Then he had the big idea to get all the money together in one fell swoop.’

Henry was puzzled.

‘Apparently Ray counts his weekly takings in a little terraced house in Rawtenstall. Marty simply arranged to rob him. Hired four dimbos from Manchester to do the business, but Marty being Marty, it all went wrong. Two of them got whacked, two got away and one of Ray’s trusted men got greedy and did a runner with all the takings in the confusion. About two-fifty, two-eighty grand, supposedly.’

Henry whistled. ‘Marty gets left with nothing other than debt and gets executed by a very pissed-off bullfighter. Things are slotting into place now. So Ray doesn’t show any feelings about Marty’s death, he accuses Jack of sleeping with him and beats her up, so Jack is really pissed off with him and decides to drop him in it.’

‘The money is still on the run and Ray wants it back because it’s his and because — and get this for a kind of rough justice — the Spaniard has threatened Ray and told him he now carries the debt incurred by his brother.’

Henry laughed. ‘What goes around comes around.’

‘Ray’s got two goons trailing the man who stole Ray’s money as we speak. A guy called Miller and that one who was at Ray’s when we went round.’

‘Crazy.’

‘And those two are very dangerous guys. They’re the one’s who took out the guys who tried to rob Ray, then dumped their bodies over the county line. They’re also the ones who came off best in McDonald’s. They’ve also been contracted to murder the Spaniard.’

‘What about the King’s Cross shooting?’

‘Ray and Marty did that. Crazy drove them.’

‘Wow,’ said Henry, taking it all in. ‘So how’s Jack? Will she put pen to paper, do you think?’

Jane nodded confidently. ‘She’s up for it.’

‘We’d better get it done as soon as possible. These people need to be taken off the streets — Oh,’ Henry had a thought, ‘did she say anything about the dead prostitute?’

‘No, didn’t ask. Sorry.’

‘Okay, you’ve done bloody well so far. What I want to do now is keep her on the move. I’d like to get her to the rape interview suite at Morecambe, just for today. It’ll give us some breathing space and while you’re sorting her out statement-wise, I’ll get a move on with the witness-protection stuff. She needs to be moved soon for her own safety, I reckon. From now on I think we should all watch our backs until we get Ray, Crazy and this other guy Miller into custody. I’d say they’ll be out to get her and anyone daft enough to get in their way — i.e., us.’

The entrance to the car park at the back of the police station was by way of a rough road through a small area of derelict land and some grassed-over humps. It was easy enough for Miller to position his car to have a view of all the comings and goings at the rear of the station without arousing too much suspicion.

Henry came off the phone, which seemed to have been pressed to his ear for over an hour. He had been making arrangements, letting the right people know what was happening, but not letting any names slip. By 9 a.m. he had done the necessary to get the ball rolling, but could not help but feel nervous. He knew he was up against a ruthless gang who had their backs to the wall. They would stop at nothing to protect themselves and destroy others. Henry knew he had to assume there was a very substantial threat against Jack Burrows, even though one had not yet been made. The phone call she had sneakily made last night worried him. It meant that Ray had been alerted. But what could he have achieved overnight in terms of pulling something in place to get at Jack Burrows this morning? Henry pondered. Nothing, he assured himself. Ray did not have a clue where she was and once Burrows committed herself to paper later today, there would be no way in which Ray could ever find her, unless she was foolish enough to compromise herself.

But Henry was on pins and needles.

She was safe and secure in the police station. Once outside on the road she became vulnerable.

He went upstairs and found Jane Roscoe, Rik Dean and Jack Burrows in the TV lounge. He beckoned Jane out to the landing.

‘The rape suite isn’t being used at the moment and though I know we shouldn’t really use it for this, I’m going to. We can spend some time debriefing her and getting it all recorded.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘I want to move as soon as possible, cos I’m starting to get a bit jumpy. We’ll travel to Skem and pick up the M6 from there. Probably take an hour to get to the suite.’

Jane nodded. ‘I’m beginning to feel jittery, too.’

‘I’d like an armed escort, but the only trouble with that is the bureaucracy. It would waste time and I want to get her moving as soon as. What do you think?’

‘I know what you’re saying, but it isn’t likely that Ray knows where she is at the moment, is it?’

‘No, but she’s still under threat. I don’t want to put her in any unnecessary danger. I’ll speak to Bernie Fleming about it.’

He went back downstairs to the CID office and called Fleming on the land line and put the conundrum to him.

‘Well,’ said Fleming, ‘under the circumstances, just get her moved, then we can have a proper look at having pre-planned firearms escorts for any future movements, once she’s made her statement.’

I’m not a happy chappie, Henry said to himself as he hung up.

Henry emerged from the front door of Ormskirk police station and walked across the small concourse to the traffic lights at the junction. On the opposite corner was the library and opposite that was the traffic-free road leading down to the main shopping centre. He breathed in the fresh air and watched the traffic flowing for a while, before strolling down the slight incline away from the town centre, then cutting across the grassed area and walking back into the car park behind the station.

His eyes were roving constantly, seeking potential problems, searching for signs of danger.

There was nothing. People were coming and going all the time. Many cars were parked on the waste ground outside the police station walls. A guy in motorcycle leathers, helmet on, was standing astride his bike, chatting to another man in a car, both smoking. They didn’t even look at Henry. He did not give them a second glance.

Yet he was still feeling pretty unhappy.

He reversed his car to the rear door of the police station. As soon as he got there, Rik Dean came out and did the same with his car, parking it in front of Henry’s so they were in convoy. Henry waited for him and they both went back into the station. Jane and Jack were waiting behind the door.

‘We’re ready,’ Jane said.

‘I’m not,’ said Henry. He left the three of them standing there and went into the CID office where a lone detective was beavering diligently away at paperwork. Henry picked up the phone and dialled the divisional communications room. He asked where the Armed Response Vehicle was at that moment. Chorley, he was told. At least twenty minutes away.