Nick Oldham - The Last Big Job

‘ From what you’ve told me, putting 2 and 2 together, I would say he is Jacky Lee’s killer. Jacky was a barrier to the Russians, and they wanted his business. Thompson and Elphick are ambitious etc, etc… I’m sure you’ve already worked this out. What it means is that you’ve got real trouble up there and I think you need to get a big operation underway to disrupt them — NOW!

‘ Will be pleased to assist — in a consultancy capacity, of course.

‘ Best wishes, Karl D.

‘ PS — there was a killing in Paris just over a week ago. We think it could be the work of Ivankov.’

For the first time that year Danny was able to wear a loose T-shirt and cut-off jeans in the open air. With open-toed sandals, a clipboard and a shoulder bag, she set off to find Barney Gillrow. Whilst strolling along she noticed that couples tended to give her a wide berth; she wondered about this for a while until she realised she was in the uniform of a timeshare tout, many of whom were out prowling for their commission along the beach-front.

Twenty minutes of slow walking brought her into Playa de Las Americas, a large, bustling, purpose-built resort with three manmade beaches and three natural ones — dark, volcanic, typical of the Canaries.

She found Gillrow’s apartment block sooner and more easily than expected. It was set back about 800 metres from the Playa del Bobo beach, and was low rise in comparison to the surrounding blocks and hotels.

Danny wandered in through the reception area unchallenged and to one of the four lifts, taking it up to the third floor, stepping out on to a walkway running along the rear of the apartment block, overlooking a narrow side road. She found Gillrow’s apartment and rang the bell. Whilst waiting she rooted in her bag and found her warrant card.

Gillrow answered the door, dressed in a light short-sleeved shirt and slacks, nothing on his feet. He looked very tanned and healthy. Danny gave him her best smile and held up her badge.

It was with a great deal of reluctance that he invited Danny into the apartment, muttering, ‘I told you all I know over the phone. Wasted journey, this. Wasted.’

‘ Well, you never know,’ she said positively.

He gave her a withering look.

The inside of the flat was airy and bright, with patio doors opening out on to a wide balcony overlooking the pool. It was nicely furnished, with broad comfortable sofas and easy chairs. A huge TV squatted in one corner; Danny assumed it was able to receive satellite channels the world over.

Stairs led up to an interior landing off which were several doors — bedrooms and bathrooms, no doubt.

Ceiling fans rotated silently but effectively.

‘ This is very nice,’ Danny acknowledged. ‘Where’s Mrs Gillrow?’

‘ Down at the health club.’

‘ In that case we can have a nice chat, can’t we?’

Barney sniffed doubtfully and gestured for her to sit down at the table out on the balcony.

‘ Lovely view,’ she commented, once seated.

‘ Mmm. Can I offer you a drink? You’ve come a long way for nothing, so it’s the least I can do.’

‘ Thanks. Anything soft will be fine.’

Danny watched him go back in through the patio doors to the spacious kitchen beyond the sitting area.

He looked very well. Life out here in the sun obviously agreed with him. His hair was still dark with the odd streak of grey, swept back from his face, and he had a nicely trimmed moustache. Danny thought he was good-looking and could easily imagine him as a smooth-talking detective of the type to whom she had so often been attracted in her earlier days when she was younger and easily led. She had been very promiscuous way back then and, whilst not proud of it, she wasn’t raked by guilt either. A little regret, maybe, because she had a reputation which often preceded her and the ‘decent’ guys — as opposed to the ones after a bed for the night — avoided her like she had the clap, which she had once had.

Gillrow came back with a long, cool lemonade. Danny thanked him.

‘ I’ll bet you do most of your eating out here. It must be wonderful. I love eating in the open air. Food tastes so much better.’ She was out to do a little softening by flattering his lifestyle if nothing else.

‘ Yeah, we do eat out here mostly.’

‘ What’s the social life like?’

‘ OK. I’m a bit of a loner anyway, so I’m not bothered about mixing all the time, but my wife gets out and about. There’s a lot of ex-pats around here.’

‘ What made you decide to come out here?’

Gillrow opened his arms, looked around and said, ‘This.’

Danny nodded, sipped the lemonade: real lemonade.

‘ OK,’ Gillrow said. ‘Niceties over… what do you want?’

Danny shrugged as if to say, ‘You pushed it.’ She opened her folding clipboard. ‘Malcolm Fitch was found murdered in Blackpool, shot through the head. He was dumped into a vehicle inspection pit with two other bodies, both of whom had connections with the drugs trade from Tenerife. Fitch used to be one of your informants. He hasn’t been seen, or at least we’ve had no recorded sightings of him, for about fourteen years.’

‘ I had a lot of informants. He was one of many, as I remember,’ Gillrow said, making a great show of trying to jog his memory by screwing up his face. ‘He didn’t really give me much. I didn’t use him much, either. So you see,’ he apologised, ‘you have had a wasted journey.’

‘ Mr Gillrow, your record suggests you were a very diligent, highly motivated cop. I’ve got to say, I find it hard to believe you can’t remember more about Fitch.’

Gillrow’s face dropped and set like concrete. ‘I’ve been retired for eight years, Miss. And you are talking about someone I had dealings with — what, fourteen years ago?’ He leaned forwards. ‘I don’t remember — OK?’

Danny swallowed, completely dissatisfied by him, but aware there was nothing else at all she could do about his attitude or his memory loss. She gulped the lemonade, which tasted superb.

‘ If that’s the way you want to play it, fair enough. But remember this, Mr Gillrow. We’re investigating a triple murder with drugs connections all the way from Lancashire to here, Tenerife. I am not going to let that connection go cold, because sometimes it’s those tenuous ones that make a case.’

‘ Are you threatening me, young lady?’

‘ All I’m doing is telling you that I am a very thorough detective — just like you were, no doubt, and I don’t let go easily. There’s every possibility that I’ll be back to see you again — I because I think you’re telling me porkies.’

They eyed each other like two boxers. Danny sipped the last part of her lemonade. The ice cubes crashed against her teeth. She nodded almost imperceptibly and folded her clipboard closed. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Gillrow. It was very enlightening.’

The atmosphere between them was as cold as the ice in her glass. Danny swilled it round and placed the glass on the table. The interview was over. She handed him her business card on the back of which was the name of her hotel and room number. ‘Call me if you get your memory back,’ she said sweetly.

Gillrow closed the apartment door behind her, went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of cheap whisky out of the refrigerator, poured a long measure into a glass and stalked out to the balcony. Troubled, he watched Danny walking across the poolside area of the apartment towards an exit. She glanced up and saw him, gave a nod of acknowledgement. Gillrow did not respond, his eyes blazing towards her, a lump of fear growing in his stomach like a tumour. He swallowed a mouthful of the whisky and it burned his mouth with its cheap coarseness. Then he emptied the rest of it down his throat as he saw Danny disappear down the road towards the centre of the resort.