Blindside (21 page)

‘Your colleague doesn’t think that I’m a legitimate businessman.’

‘I’m not in a position to comment,’ Irvine said. ‘And right now I don’t really care. There are two murder inquiries ongoing and that’s my only concern.’

‘We had nothing to do with them,’ Junior said loudly, leaning forward. ‘So why don’t you fuck off.’

Irvine stared at him.

‘Everybody out,’ Parker Senior said sharply.

No one moved.

‘I mean now.’ His voice was even but firm.

The goons got up and shuffled to the door, followed quickly by the weasel in the glasses.

Junior stayed put, but shrank back in his seat.

‘You too, son.’

Junior glared at his father for a long moment before sliding across the leather seat and out of the booth. He slammed the door as he left.

‘I apologise for my son’s ignorance,’ Parker said. ‘That’s not how I like to do business.’

‘Frank,’ Armstrong said, ‘cut the bullshit, okay? You’re not impressing anyone here.’

Parker shrugged.

‘Who was Russell working for after he left you?’

Parker flicked at an imaginary piece of fluff on the lapel of his suit jacket.

‘If you tell us, we’ll be going after them hard. Maybe help take out some of the competition.’

‘I don’t know what you mean by competition.’

Armstrong sighed. Irvine felt that his intervention was proving counterproductive.

‘Mr Parker,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you would be just as pleased as we would be to take a killer off the streets. Make it safer for everyone. That’s my aim here. Nothing else.’

She maintained eye contact with him, hoping that Armstrong would stay quiet.

Parker looked from Irvine to Armstrong and back. ‘I appreciate what you’re trying to do,’ he said eventually. ‘If I can help I will.’

Irvine nodded.

‘Do you know who Mr Hall was working for after he left your employment?’

‘I heard it was someone … new to the business scene.’

Armstrong turned his face away from Parker and snorted.

‘Anything you can do to help us would be appreciated,’ Irvine said.

Parker regarded her silently for a moment. ‘Andrew Johnson,’ he said finally.

Irvine wondered if he was joking.

‘The Andrew Johnson who’s dead? Murdered. I mean, it was all over the newspapers. I’m one of the investigating officers.’

‘Yes, that Andrew Johnson.’

‘So what are you telling us? Did Russell Hall kill Johnson and take over his organisation?’

Parker smiled benignly.

‘I would be very surprised if Russell had big enough balls. I mean, Johnson was out of his league. A proper psychopath.’

‘I’m not following what you’re telling us.’

‘Russell worked for Johnson until his unfortunate meeting with a bullet. Now he works for the man who succeeded Johnson.’

‘And is this man still alive, or do I have another body to discover?’

He laughed this time.

‘I don’t know his name. But I understand that he is very much alive.’

‘I’d appreciate it if you would let me know if any of your sources of information can identify this man.’

Parker looked at her for a long moment without blinking.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘But whoever he is, I’d stay well clear, you know. Anyone crazy enough to take out Johnson is deserving of respect.’

Irvine took a business card from her pocket and placed it on the table in front of Parker. She stood and waited for Armstrong to do the same.

‘Thank you for your assistance, Mr Parker,’ Irvine said as Armstrong started to rise.

‘I know how to deal with these scumbags,’ Armstrong said, his voice rising.

Irvine stared at him from the passenger seat of the car.

‘And you don’t treat them like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Giving them any respect or legitimacy.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘He’s a drug dealer and a gangster.’

‘Did we advance the investigation?’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘Maybe not to you. Look, it’s obvious that this guy has done something to get at you in the past. I don’t need to know about it. But he gave us a lead. The rest of it I’ll leave to you SCDEA boys to take care of. You brought me in to look at the deaths. That’s what I’m doing.’

Armstrong looked ready to argue but the fight seemed to drain out of him. He started the car and put his hands on the steering wheel.

‘Ask me about him again when this is all done.’

‘Okay.’

‘But for now you’re right.’

‘What he gave us, if it’s correct, is good stuff. We can link the Johnson case to Hall and Lewski. Get all these cases closed. This is real progress.’

‘Let me see if I follow,’ Armstrong said. ‘Hall goes to work for Johnson. Johnson’s outfit is the one selling the bad gear. For whatever reason, Johnson gets killed and the new boss takes over.’

‘Right. And this new guy must be the one who killed Hall.’

‘It’s a safe bet that Hall gave the drugs to Lewski for sex and then when she died he dumped her body to get rid of the evidence. Or, at least, that was his plan. Then what? Hall’s boss has him taken out for making such a mess.’

‘Seems like he covers his tracks in extreme ways. The boss, I mean.’

‘I agree.’

‘This new guy is obviously a very serious individual.’

15

Armstrong dropped Irvine off before heading over to the SCDEA HQ in Paisley to see if he could find out anything more about a new face on the scene – either from his colleagues or from street contacts. He said he’d call if he got anything concrete.

Irvine opened the CCTV file from Murphy’s e-mail and settled down for a long afternoon. She started watching, fast forwarding through stretches of film that were clearly of no help.

After more than an hour, she noticed a silver Mercedes saloon that she had seen on the film before. She moved backwards and forwards through the film, following the car as best she could. It went south towards the river and out of sight for about twenty minutes before reappearing heading north.

‘What were you doing down at the river?’ she said aloud.

Dumping Joanna Lewski’s body
.

She reviewed the film again until she found a clear shot of the car’s licence plate and wrote it in her notes before calling DVLA. When she got through to the section she needed she explained who she was, gave her warrant card number and asked for confirmation of the registered keeper of the Mercedes.

She wrote down the name that the operator gave her: Russell Hall.

She called Armstrong and told him what she had found – asked if he had heard anything from his colleagues.

‘Nothing so far. Most of the guys here didn’t even know that Hall had left Frank Parker’s organisation. He’s covered his tracks well.’

‘You coming back here today?’

‘Probably not. There’re still some people I can talk to. Maybe hit the streets as well, to find some sources.’

Irvine looked at her watch. It was approaching four in the afternoon.

‘I guess we’ve done what we can today,’ she said. ‘It all starts again tomorrow with the lab results from Hall’s scene.’

‘We’re a step closer than we were. That’s something.’

‘Sure,’ she said, not convinced.

‘You heard from your new best pal yet?’

She didn’t know what he was talking about and said so.

‘Frank Parker.’

Irvine sighed. ‘No. And get over it.’

Part Eight:

Brothers in Arms

1

Seth Raines dressed in a pair of Khaki Dockers and a black shirt. He was watching TV when his mobile phone rang. He recognised the number as being the passenger that he had taken up to the compound.

‘Everything is checked out at my end,’ the man on the other end of the line said. ‘Now it’s up to you. When do you want to exchange?’

‘I need to speak to my team.’

‘I appreciate that there’s a lot to prepare.’ The man paused. ‘Do you have any security concerns?’

Raines wondered if the man was also having him followed and knew about his FBI shadows. Whatever. Honesty was how he liked to do business.

‘The FBI are following me.’

‘That’s unfortunate.’

‘They don’t have anything on me. It’s harassment.’

‘Why?’

‘In the past I’ve had occasion to put some things in writing that may have upset some people. Given them a false impression of who I am and what I might do.’

‘False impression?’

‘Yes. Plus, we think that one of them was trying to infiltrate our team.’

That brought a long silence. Raines said nothing for the duration.

‘This is the first I have heard of this.’

‘It’s sorted now. And, anyway, he never got close enough to know what we were planning.’

‘But they suspect something?’

‘They don’t have a clue what this is about.’

‘In my experience, they are not lateral thinkers.’

‘I agree. We’re safe.’

‘Do you have a contingency for dealing with the current FBI interest in you?’

‘Yes.’

They both knew what he meant.

‘Good. You’ll be in touch when the final timing is set?’

‘Yes.’

The man ended the call without saying anything else.

Raines knew that he needed to make at least one final trip up to the mountain compound before he finalised the arrangements with the man. That would prove awkward with the FBI tail. He wondered if it might be possible to go part of the way by bus or train and get one of the team to pick him up at the other end. That might be enough to get them off his tail.

He dialled Matt Horn’s number.

‘How’s your head after last night, Seth?’

‘I’m fine. I didn’t have much anyway.’

‘Can’t say the same. What’s up?’

‘I got a call from the guy this morning.’

‘And?’

‘He’s looking to finalise things. You’re okay with that now?’

‘Yes. But it doesn’t mean I have to sing and dance about it.’

‘No one’s asking you to. Listen, I need to go to the mountain to wrap things up. You have to be there as well.’

‘I know. When?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘What about your friends at the FBI?’

‘I’m still thinking about how to deal with them. Leave it with me.’

2

Cahill left the hotel room after seven on Thursday morning with Logan still asleep. He went down to the bar area and sat by the window before calling Tom Hardy. It was mid-afternoon back in the UK.

‘Tom, it’s me. I’m going to need to visit that contact you were arranging over here.’

The gun
.

‘Sure. Want me to e-mail you the details?’

‘Yeah. You got it now?’

‘I do. I’ll hang up and send it.’

‘Who is he?’

‘She. It’s a woman.’

‘How do we know her? I mean, what’s her background?’

‘I didn’t enquire. She runs a legit gun shop. Does a sideline for those in need of something untraceable. I’m told that she is very careful to ensure that it’s only those with right on their side that she deals with.’

Cahill smiled.

‘Use my name,’ Hardy said. ‘That’ll be good enough.’

Cahill took a taxi to a suburb in the predominantly white South Denver area. The city was like a lot of the big metropolitan centres in the US – the neighbourhoods were divided largely by race. In Denver it was African
Americans in the east, Hispanics on the north and west sides and whites in the south. There were always exceptions and, as the cab drew up on the opposite side of the street from the gun shop, Cahill saw a black woman behind the counter. It was eight-thirty and the shop was already open.

He got out of the cab and spent a little time checking out the area. It was unremarkable. Neither particularly affluent nor poor, and the houses were clean and tidy with small, well-kept front yards. It was a good place for wanting to go unnoticed.

Cahill walked across the street and went into the shop, a bell above his head ringing as he pushed the front door open. The woman behind the counter looked over at him and smiled. She was serving a man in a checked shirt wearing a Broncos cap.

‘Be with you in a minute,’ she said to him in a Boston accent – all elongated vowels. ‘Have a look around.’

Cahill nodded and said he would. He didn’t know if she recognised him as one of her
other
customers.

He walked around the small shop, marvelling again, now that he was home, at the availability of such destructive weapons to members of the public and seeing posters advertising gun clubs and shooting ranges. He was a trained soldier and knew how to use these things, but any idiot could walk in here and buy one if they checked out okay.

Cahill was at the back of the shop when he heard the bell ring again as the other customer left. He walked over to the counter and smiled at the woman, offering his hand in greeting. She shook it.

‘I’m Elizabeth Holmes. Call me Lizzie. What can I do for you?’

She had a firm handshake and wore a white T-shirt with a Smith & Wesson logo. Cahill could see the slender, well-toned muscles of her forearm as she shook his hand. Her hair was short and she had wide-set brown eyes. He made her for late forties.

‘Tom Hardy said I should come see you if I was in town,’ Cahill said.

She held his hand a moment longer then released it, putting both her hands on her hips. It was a girlish pose, but she pulled it off.

‘I’m always happy to meet new friends,’ she said.

‘Likewise.’

‘You an ex-cop or what?’

‘Army then Secret Service.’

‘You get around. What you up to now?’

Getting to know you
.

‘Close protection. Corporates, politicians. That kind of thing, you know.’

Her eyes opened wider. ‘Any celebrities?’

‘Sometimes. I mean, try to avoid them.’

‘Very sensible. Bet they pay well, though.’

‘That they do, Lizzie.’

She looked at him for a moment and walked around the counter, heading for the front door.

‘Give me a second to close up and I’ll take you downstairs.’

She turned a lock on the door and put a sign in the window telling her customers that she’d be back in a half-hour.