Nick Oldham - The Last Big Job

He groaned inwardly. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the gung-ho Superintendent walking boldly towards him. Henry half-expected the idiot to call out his name.

Then his eyes flickered to the toilet corridor. Gary Thompson emerged from the men’s cloakroom, hitching up the last inch of his flies and adjusting his tackle.

The two men were on a collision course, Henry at the apex of it.

Thompson stopped unexpectedly in the corridor and extracted his mobile phone from his jacket pocket, put it to his ear and turned round, sticking a finger in the other ear.

Henry saw his chance. He shot out of his seat and walked swiftly towards Davison, almost colliding with him. Out of the corner of his mouth Henry whispered urgently, ‘Follow me, don’t speak.’

Davison’s face dropped the beaming smile it had been displaying. He slotted in behind Henry just as Thompson turned and ended his phone call.

Henry moved quickly across the wide foyer and hit the stairs by the reception desk. He bounded up on to the first-floor landing, decided not to stop there and went up the next flight on to the second floor. Davison appeared a second or two later.

‘ You have almost compromised me,’ Henry spat venomously into Davison’s surprised face. He forced his room key into the man’s clammy hand. ‘Go to my room and stay put until I get there.’ He sneered with disbelief at the Superintendent, heaved his way past him and headed back down the steps.

Thompson was sitting at the table, looking slightly agitated and annoyed.

Henry sat. ‘Sorry — forgot my diary.’ He smiled at Gary and breathed out as he thought, Just what the hell am I doing this for?

Henry spent a very productive hour with Thompson doing business. They parted amicably, Henry a little bit more impressed with Gary than he had been previously. He seemed to have a fairly cool, logical head on his shoulders and bargained hard without a trace of embarrassment. Henry played the game with him even though he knew he could have given the whisky away for free. What was important was that Thompson believed he was buying stolen goods and that he was starting to trust Frank Jagger. The ability to build trust was an integral part of an undercover officer’s skills. It is always the first step in a relationship and once the trust is built, then it’s very easy to set someone up for a fall.

They settled on?3.50 a bottle because Henry gave the impression he wanted rid of the stuff as soon as possible. A deposit was to be paid in a couple of days’ time — in cash — prior to the delivery of the first part of the goods. Henry negotiated this short time delay because he wanted to ensure that from this moment on, each stage of the process of luring Thompson into a trap was properly documented and recorded for future evidential purposes. That also meant proper back-up for Henry and the technology to go with it.

‘ Speak to you soon,’ Thompson smiled, shaking Henry’s hand. The big BMW pulled up outside the hotel on the double yellows, having responded to a phone call from Thompson a few minutes earlier. Henry wondered what Gunk and Drozdov had been doing to pass the time; if they had been cruising around they could easily have spotted Davison’s arrival. Henry prayed they hadn’t.

He accompanied Thompson to the hotel steps, but did not wave him off — that would have seemed too normal for a crim; however, he did make sure Gary got in the car and it moved away into the traffic. Henry twirled round, forgetting the pain in his body, and headed purposefully back into the hotel, building himself up for the coming encounter with Davison.

Halfway across the foyer, his mobile chirped its idiotic, irritating ring in his pocket. He kept striding and answered it. ‘Jagger.’

‘ Connor.’ It was the DCI from Greater Manchester.

Henry halted mid-stride. ‘Go on.’

‘ Just to say I went looking for the sealed master tapes. Neither one is in the tape library — or at least if they are, they’re not where they’re supposed to be. Can’t find them, in other words.’

‘ You’re saying he’s got the masters, as well as the working copies?’

‘ I’m saying the masters are not where they should be. You make your own assumptions.’

Henry thumbed the call-end button. A feeling of savage anger gushed through him. Two minutes later he was outside his hotel room door, rapping with his knuckles. ‘Come on, open up, it’s me.’

‘ You’ve taken your time,’ Davison bitched on opening the door.

Henry burst in, taking the man completely by surprise. In a flash he overpowered Davison and spread him across the double bed, one forearm crushing his windpipe, his free hand bunched into a fist which hovered only inches away from Davison’s face.

‘ Not only have you nearly just blown my cover sky high, but you nearly got me killed last night, you prick! You lied to me by saying you hadn’t mentioned my statement to Thompson and Elphick, didn’t you?’

‘ No, Henry,’ his victim spluttered with difficulty. ‘I don’t know what the hell you’re on about, but if you don’t let go of me now you can wave goodbye to your job and your pension.’

‘ Bollocks!’ Henry rasped, spittle coming out with the word. He applied more pressure to Davison’s windpipe and re-bunched his fist for effect. Davison’s eyes squinted in anticipation of the punch. He struggled, attempting to break free, but Henry’s heavier bulk kept him pinned there. Henry moved his face even closer to Davison’s. They were nose to nose. Davison picked up every nuance of Henry’s sheer anger.

‘ I know what you’re about, you bastard,’ Henry uttered through clenched teeth. ‘You’re trying to save your career at the expense of every other fucker around you. You’re a dangerous bastard and someone should have put you out of this job years ago; but I’ll tell you something…’ Henry’s voice lowered into a growl… ‘you’re mixing it with someone who’ll take you on, because when I’ve finished with Gunk and Gary, I’m coming for you and I’m going to take you down — and out. Got that? You are dead meat as far as the police service goes.’

Henry eased off with a glare of disdain, leaving the higher ranking officer sprawled across the bed, massaging his throat, looking angrily at Henry’s back as he left the room.

Take-off was never a problem for Danny; it was the slow glide back towards ground as the plane lined up for the runway which gave her the, sharp pain in the middle of her head. She swallowed in an attempt to put some balance back and squirmed uncomfortably in the narrow seat. She adjusted her long legs once more, trying to keep her knees out of the seat-back in front of her which, as the flight had progressed, seemed to creep closer and closer to her.

But how could she possibly complain, as three days after discovering the identity of the third corpse, and for the second time in her career as a Detective Sergeant, she was travelling abroad at the firm’s expense? The first time had been a ‘jolly’ to Florida to pick up a reluctant witness, a journey which had turned out to be a nightmare of the first degree. Now she was very close to landing at Reina Sofia Airport on Tenerife for a job which she hoped would be less fraught with danger than the American trip had been. That trip had been done on Business Class, this one was economy-sardine. The difference was incredible and not just the price variation. Danny did not really mind though, because when she landed she was going to be put in a decent hotel, would probably have the opportunity to do some sunbathing, be able to pick up some duty-free cigarettes and perfume on the way home — and in between all that have a chat with former Detective Inspector Barney Gillrow about one Malcolm Fitch, deceased, who, it had transpired, used to be one of Gillrow’s informants.