Питер Джеймс - Dead if You Don’t

Bob Carter, his Chief Operating Officer, had already sent him an email querying the transaction from the client account, checking to see if Kipp was aware of it, and that they weren’t victims of an online fraud over the weekend.

He was trying to think of what to reply, wary that emails were dangerous because of the trail they left that could never be erased. Sometime very soon he would have to go along to Carter’s office and give him an explanation.

But what?

What could he spin him that would extricate him from the very deep shit he was in?

There was no way he would even try to persuade Carter to help him cover up this loss. That could lead to a prison sentence for Carter and the end of his career. Kipp was going to have to take the blame, and the consequences, himself. The price he had paid to try to save his son’s life.

If it came to a prosecution, he could only hope for sympathy from the judge. But his own career would be finished.

Shit.

His mobile phone rang.

‘Kipp Brown,’ he answered, trying to sound brighter than he felt.

‘Kipp, it’s Edi.’

Edi Konstandin, his biggest client. They spoke around this time most mornings, with the Albanian wanting updates on the overnight stock market movements, or on Mondays, those influenced by any weekend events.

‘Hi, Edi, how are you?’

‘More to the point, how are you? You have your son, Mungo, back safely?’

‘I do.’

There was a brief silence before Konstandin spoke again. ‘I owe you an apology, Kipp.’

‘An apology?’

‘I need you to believe me, please, Kipp. I had no knowledge of your son’s kidnap, which was done by my crazy, reckless nephew, Jorgji Dervishi. Please believe me.’

‘Of course I believe you, Edi. You are a trusted friend.’

‘I think I have some nice news for you. Jorgji has gone away and will not be a problem ever again. But before he went, I made him pay the quarter of a million pounds he extorted from you, to me. I’ve arranged for it to be transferred to you this morning. My bank tells me it will arrive in your account before midday.’

Kipp could scarcely believe his ears. ‘That’s amazing, Edi. I–I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t need to say anything, Kipp. My mission in my declining years is to show that my countrymen — those over whom I have influence, at any rate — are decent people. I won’t tolerate anyone stepping out of line. Jorgji crossed that line. Now he has made restitution. I hope we are square?’

‘We are square!’ Kipp said, trying to play down the elation he felt. ‘Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever really thank you properly.’

‘I’ll tell you how,’ the old man said. ‘By just keeping doing what you are doing. Keep making me money, OK? Deal?’

Kipp grinned. ‘Deal,’ he said.

Monday 14 August

Moments after Kipp ended the call with Edi Konstandin, a text came in from his horse-racing tipster.

Good morning Mr Brown, we have two bets today. The first horse is MUNGO and take the 4/1 with Betfred. Also back KAYLEIGH’S MOTHER and take the 5/1 with Paddy. Both horses should be backed this morning taking the early price and both are WIN bets. Good luck — TONY FORBES.

He stared at the text in disbelief. A horse called Mungo. A horse called Kayleigh’s Mother.

He rang Forbes.

‘Tony, is this some kind of a joke?’

‘Joke, Kipp, what do you mean?’

‘These horses are real?’

‘Absolutely. Both horses are working really well at home and they are strongly fancied. I would be very keen on both of them today.’

Thanking the tipster, he ended the call. Unreal. It had to be a bok. His luck, finally, was on the turn. He had a guardian angel!

He dialled his private bookmaker who placed all his bigger bets for him. ‘Justin, there’s two horses today and I want one hundred thousand on each of them.’

‘Are you sure? Two hundred grand, Kipp?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. Can you take it?’

‘That’s some way above your normal range — I’d have to have collateral — and I’d need to lay some off.’

‘I can give you collateral.’

‘How much?’

‘The full amount if you need it. I should be able to get it to you by around 1 p.m.’

‘OK.’

Ending the call, Kipp Brown sat very still. Those two horses had to be a sign, didn’t they?

He emailed his COO back.

Bob, the money will be back in our account later today with massive interest. Used it for an investment opportunity too good to turn down.

Then he sat, very still, deep in thought. Had he just been dug out of one hole only to fall into another?

Shouldn’t he just count his blessings?

Every half-hour throughout the rest of the morning he checked his account. But no money came in. At 12.30 he called Edi Konstandin who apologized profusely, but his computer system was down and he was unable to make any transactions. His geek was on it.

Konstandin’s geek was still on it, two and a half hours later.

Kipp was shaking with frustration. His bookie was unable to place the bets without a major portion of the cash being deposited.

It wasn’t until close to 5 p.m. that the money finally hit his account.

Despondently, he checked the racing results online. In the 3 p.m. at Brighton, Mungo had come under starters orders, but then refused to leave the gate. The moment a horse came under starters orders, the bet on it was valid. He would have lost the entire amount. In the 4.15 at Doncaster, Kayleigh’s Mother had been three lengths clear when a nutter had sprinted, naked, across its path, freaking out the horse, which threw its jockey.

Relief surged through him. Maybe, he thought, some days you should count your blessings — however few and far between they were.

ANPR— Automatic Number Plate Recognition. Roadside or mobile cameras that automatically capture the registration number of all cars that pass. It can be used to historically track which cars went past a certain camera, and can also trigger alerts for cars which are stolen, have no insurance or have an alert attached to them.

CAD— Computer Aided Dispatch. The system where all calls from the public are logged and, if they require police attendance, the live time record of who is attending, how it is developing and what the outcome is.

CID— Criminal Investigation Department. Usually refers to the divisional detectives rather than the specialist squads.

CIM— Critical Incident Manager. A chief inspector who has responsibility for the response and management of all critical incidents within the force area during their tour of duty.

CSI— Was SOCO. Crime Scene Investigators (Scenes of Crime Officers). They are the people who attend crime scenes to search for fingerprints, DNA samples etc.

EOD— Explosives Ordinance Disposal. Specialist Military bomb disposal teams.

FLUM— Flash Unsolicited Message. A direct short message sent between computer screens, mainly in the control room, to alert other controllers or supervisors to either a significant incident or an important update on an ongoing incident. It flashes up, alerting the recipient to its content immediately.

HOLMES— Home Office Large Major Enquiry System. The national computer database used on all murders. It provides a repository of all messages, actions, decisions and statements, allowing the analysis of intelligence and the tracking and auditing of the whole enquiry. Can enable enquiries to be linked across force areas where necessary.