Cut to the Chase (41 page)

‘Long bow my arse! She's the only one who could have supplied that photograph. They've been onto her, either Kalim or the police.'

‘Well, that doesn't answer our other questions does it?'

Wallace thought deeply for a moment, and clenched his fists against his temples.

‘It bloody well could,' Wallace answered finally. ‘Let's assume it was Kalim, or if not him personally, some of his bloody henchmen in Australia who contacted her. Somehow we've been compromised and I reckon it could be through Ben Wakefield. Remember that phone call? She knew everywhere I would be likely to go in England. I have friends and relatives in London, Surrey or Birmingham.'

‘But she wouldn't know you were in England would she?'

‘Whether she did or didn't, if someone else told her I was here, they could then ask where I'd be likely to go, who I would contact.'

McKay sat bolt upright, and considered it. His brow puckered as he thought over the possibilities, and he gave a brief nod.

‘Possible,' he said slowly. ‘That's very possible.'

‘Another thing I've just thought of,' Wallace added, and a trace of excitement must have come into his voice. ‘Ben Wakefield. Ben and I went out one night to the pub, he took a lot of time locking up, he said he'd recently had a burglary, somebody had broken in but he couldn't find that anything had been taken.'

‘Maybe they were disturbed by neighbours, or by Ben himself, sometimes burglars do leave empty handed. Wait on! I've just had a thought.'

‘What?' Wallace asked.

‘Maybe they did leave empty handed, but were they empty handed when they went in? Could they have left something behind?' McKay drummed his fingers on the deck.

‘Like what?'

‘A bug. Could they have placed a bug on Ben Wakefield's telephone? One that picked up and transmitted all his calls, incoming and outgoing.'

‘Why should they…?' Wallace began, but then the answer became obvious. With what they had in mind for Ravindran, and the plan to involve Wallace in it, they would have taken all eventualities into account. If Wallace was going to be used as the patsy then knowing his movements, where he was likely to go and where he was likely to be at any given moment would be an asset, in fact it would be an essential.

‘Who else would you be likely to call on while you were here?'

‘Norman Harrison, my cousin in Surrey, and an uncle and aunt in Surbiton.'

McKay sat back and plucked at his chin as he thought.

‘I have to make some phone calls,' he said. ‘Give me the addresses of your relatives here, especially the cousin in Surrey. Does your friend Fred have a mobile telephone?'

‘Doesn't ASIO supply those these days?'

‘Yes they do, smart arse! But I left mine in the car at Albrighton.'

Fred did have a mobile telephone. There was no problem lending it to McKay who took it on deck and commenced dialling. Wallace knew who he was ringing, he heard him say ‘Alan?' So he gathered McKay was calling his colleague Alan Kelsey at the High Commission. Wallace decided to stay in the cabin with Fred as he had offered both of them a cup of tea and Wallace felt it would be churlish to leave him alone. McKay returned after about a quarter of an hour.

‘Thanks Fred,' he said as he handed the phone back. ‘Just a call to London, but they'll be ringing back sometime if that's OK?'

The boat ambled slowly on through Birmingham inner suburbs, there were many locks to negotiate as Wallace had discovered to his cost on the way up. Fred had had to call in to a depot to pick up some cargo and to offload some, so they had a day in Birmingham. McKay and Wallace decided to go into the city for the afternoon while Fred dealt with his cargo. Apparently he was carrying pipe ware from Dudley, which was his main cargo, but he was picking up two cases of engine parts also destined for the capital.

Wallace and McKay didn't want to be hanging around as they felt they would stick out like sore thumbs and could attract attention. They arranged to meet with Fred half way down a bank of locks south of the main city, Fred grinned broadly as he stressed the half way aspect so they could do some more heavy work for him. They had no objection, they were glad of being able to give him some recompense for putting up with them.

After a day in the city streets and wandering around the shops, they made their way back into the canal system, and bought a few items of groceries on the way. They saw his barge approaching from way off up the bank of locks, so they walked up to meet him. Fred saw them coming and gave a wave.

‘They bin callin' thee,' he said to McKay, and indicated his mobile telephone in the cabin.

‘Thanks Fred,' said McKay. ‘We'll open this lock first then see what it is.'

He was on the telephone for about fifteen minutes. Wallace was standing by the bow when he came back while Fred was busying himself by the stern. McKay looked serious, but there was also an air of satisfaction.

‘Bingo!' he said.

‘What?'

‘It's with regard to your cousin, Norman Harrison, who lives in Leatherhead. Alan Kelsey has various contacts in MI 5 and the police, and has found out that apparently your cousin had a break-in a few months back, nothing was taken, but the mode of entry was the same. Whether this means his telephone was tapped I don't know…yet…but information has been passed to the local detective who was dealing with the case, and he's going to carry out an investigation now that he knows what he's looking for.'

‘What about my uncle in Surbiton?'

‘No joy as yet, but Alan's getting some of his contacts to follow it up.'

‘What about Saul Prosser?'

‘Nothing! Prosser's office is in a building that is very secure, as you probably know. But in view of your relationship with him Alan called there in person, he explained to Prosser what it was about and they took all his telephone instruments apart – nothing.'

‘Good! How is Saul, did Kelsey say?'

‘He said that Prosser just passed on a message; he was asking about John Springfield's jobs in USA, Alan told him you were sick but you'd be in touch. What was that about?'

‘Too bloody right I'm sick,' Wallace snorted. ‘It was a seminar where he'd fixed for me to give an address, over two months away.'

‘Hmmm! Well you might make it yet, we'll see how things go.'

Wallace grunted. The thought of being in the USA certainly appealed right now, he wondered if he would ever manage to fulfil that engagement. But he didn't want to cancel it yet.

‘Something else,' McKay went on. ‘Alan has been in touch with Bramble, they're going to check things at the Australian end.'

‘Oh Christ! Not bloody Bramble!'

McKay raised one hand.

‘Look, I don't like bloody Bramble any more than you do, I think he's a sanctimonious and swell headed prick but there's one thing he isn't…he's not incompetent. He knows what he's doing and if anyone or anything has dropped you in it from that end he'll sniff it out.'

‘What now?'

Fred had been sitting puffing away at his pipe at the other end of the craft during this exchange, McKay turned to Wallace.

‘We'd best put Fred in the picture, but leave the talking to me.'

They went astern where Fred was filling the air with cloud of smoke.

‘What am yo' a goin' to do now, then?'

‘Do you pass near Knowle, Fred?' asked McKay.

‘Ah! It's the way ah goos to London. It's where ah'm a-goin' now, I passes through Knowle.'

‘Why Knowle?' Wallace asked.

‘We're going to check Ben Wakefield's telephone.'

‘But surely we need to get to…!'

McKay looked at Wallace meaningly.

‘We must check Ben's phone, it will answer a lot of questions.'

‘OK!' Wallace said reluctantly.

‘Yo' ain't cummin' to London wi' me then?'

‘No,' McKay said. ‘You've done enough for us as it is, you've saved our bacon and we don't want to impose on you too much. You've got your living to consider, it's no good to you and your family if you finish up in jail. We'll make our own way from Knowle, I've made some arrangements. It's best you're not involved with us for too long, Fred.'

Fred sat and held the bowl of his pipe, and then nodded.

‘Yo'm probably right,' he said. ‘When we meet other boats, they'm allus comin' aboard for a chat, it won't be easy to explain two strangers, especially wi' yo' picture in the pairpers.'

‘In the meantime, we'll operate the locks.'

Fred grinned and blew a cloud of tobacco smoke in the air.

‘Now yo'm a talkin' sense,' he grinned. ‘Sounds arright to me.'

They made good time, McKay and Wallace stayed below most of the time, though they also gave Fred a hand with steering the craft, they decided they would only have one man on top at a time. Both McKay and Wallace made sure they sat hunched up when one of them was on deck and they wore one of Fred's old caps. They still remembered how they had been sprung at Smethwick West when Rivera and his men had been leaning over the road bridge and spotted them below on the railway truck.

The journey was uneventful. They passed out of Birmingham and eventually reached Bordesley Junction where the canal was joined by the Birmingham and Fazeley canal, which was a link to the Trent and Mersey canal. The amount of traffic increased and Fred decided it would be best if he took over the steering of the craft.

‘We don't wan' no accidents now, or drawin' attention to ourselves,' he said laconically.

They couldn't disagree with that.

The boat was now on the Grand Union canal, and the traffic remained heavy, a high proportion of commercial craft with several pleasure craft also on the water. Fred exchanged greetings with some of the regulars, one suggestion to come aboard for a chat and cup of tea was met with the rejoinder that Fred would like to but he was running late due to some engine trouble and had to make up time. He paused long enough to exchange a few items of news and then the boat headed south once more.

Fred thumped on the deck when the boat was in a deserted stretch of water. They cautiously popped their heads through the doorway. Another canal boat was astern of them and moving away.

‘Yo'm right,' he said seriously. ‘That was Tom Ainslie, mate o' mine. He jus' cum up from down south, he wuz searched at Napton Junction.'

‘Where's that?' asked McKay.

‘I know where it is,' Wallace cut in. ‘It's just past the Braunston Tunnel, this side of it. Did he say who by?'

‘Police, he reckoned,' Fred said. ‘An' I'd take his word for it; Tom can smell a copper a mile off. Any'ow, it looks as though they'm onto the cut as a means of travel, maybe somebody blew the whistle.'

‘Who?'

‘Mebbe yo' mates at Smethwick,' said Fred. ‘Mebbe they've lost you and they're using the police to find you.'

McKay nodded.

‘You may be right,' he said. ‘OK, when would we be near to Knowle?'

‘Tonight, I reckon,' said Fred. ‘Say about nineish.'

‘Tell you what, I'll rustle up some Aussie chow,' said McKay. ‘If it suits you we'll hop off in the morning.'

‘Aussie chow?' Fred grinned broadly. ‘Good idea.'

The following morning they disembarked. They were both sorry to leave Fred; he had done his best to make them comfortable, and had not stinted with meals and his beer stocks. McKay tried to offer him money so he could replenish his food stocks when they left, but Fred shook his head.

‘Yo' mate saved me from a beatin' two weeks back,' he said. ‘Me and Bert could have finished up in hospital for a few days, mebbe longer, and time's money on the cut these days. Harry saved me more than ah'd ever spend on a few rashers o' bacon and a few beers.'

So that was it. They solemnly shook hands as they parted, and Fred clapped Wallace on the shoulder.

‘I'll be watchin' the newspairpers,' he said. ‘Good luck.'

Wallace was near to tears, and panic, when Fred cast off and the barge slowly made its way up the canal with McKay and Wallace standing on the bank. It had been cramped aboard the boat, but for some days it had been a home that gave security, and Wallace felt lost as they stood on the tow path and watched him go. They all waved and then the boat vanished under a bridge.

‘Where now?' Wallace asked. ‘Ben's house?'

‘No.' McKay shook his head. ‘We can't do that, he'll be at work, and it's possible from what you said that his wife could be there on her own if she's come back from Scotland. If she is back and she's been reading the newspapers we could be in trouble, depending on how well you know her.'

‘Not well,' Wallace conceded. ‘But I know his sister very well, and she lives close by.'

Wallace blushed as he said that, McKay looked at him as he finished saying it and Wallace thought he had an inkling of Wallace's interest. But again he shook his head.

‘Not on,' he said. ‘They know that Ben's a friend, and that possibly we may re-surface there. That could not only endanger us, it could endanger them.'

‘What then?'

‘Stratford-on-Avon. He's got an insurance brokerage there hasn't he?'

‘Yes, what are you suggesting?'

‘Well I haven't been quite straight with you, but I didn't want to give too much away in front of Fred. Don't think I don't trust Fred, I reckon he's a bloody good bloke, but if he's questioned by the police he's got to tell the truth, if he starts telling lies or stretching the truth they'll pick it and then he's in trouble. If he doesn' know then he doesn' know. They'll know when he's telling the truth.'

‘What have you got in mind?'

‘I never contemplated going to Knowle, or at least to Ben Wakefield's. But we do have to contact him, preferably at Stratford.'