Day of Reckoning (14 page)

Regan and the Major.' He turned to Helen Black. 'How
would you fancy an excursion into the London underworld, Sergeant Major?'
'Why, I can't think of anything I'd like more, Brigadier.'
'Good, let's be on our way, then,' and Ferguson led the
way out.

LONDON

10

Salter and Billy were in the Blind Beggar, one of London's
most famous pubs, in its heyday the haunt of gangsters such
as the Kray brothers, the Richardsons and others. It was
crowded and busy at that time in the evening, although a
lot of the crowd were tourists, for organized trips were very much a part of the scene.
Salter waved to a small man, an albino in a black tee shirt and suit. 'One of the best lock and safe men in the business,
Billy. Manchester Charlie Ford. The big black guy with him
is Amber Frazer. Very good with his hands, though, mind
you, he's got a brain. They're an item.'
'What do you mean, an item?' Billy asked.
'You know, gay. Homosexual.'
Billy shook his head. 'Well, all I can say is they're missing out on a damn good thing.'
'Takes all sorts, Billy. We'll have him over.'
He beckoned, and Ford approached, with Frazer by his
side. 'Charlie, my old son, and Amber.' Salter shook hands.
'My nephew, Billy. Watch yourselves. He's a right villain.'
Aren't we all?' Ford said.
'Join us for a drink. I might be able to put a bit of business your way.'
He'd already heard that Ford and his friends were booked
up, but was testing the water.
'What are you suggesting, Harry?' Ford asked.
'Well, I'm organizing something big. I won't say what,
but I'd need a top man with your skills, and let's face it,
Charlie, you
are
the top man.'
'When are we talking about?'
'Next couple of weeks.'
'No way, Harry, I mean, next month could be all right,
but I'm booked right now.'
'Well, good for you. It's a nice one, I hope.'
'Very nice, Harry, very special.'
'Say no more. What I don't know, I can't talk about.' He
kept the faqade going. 'What about Phil Shapiro?'
'Got turned over last week. They're holding him at West
End Central. You could try Hughie Belov. Mind you, he
claims to be retired, but he taught me a lot. Depends on
what you're offering.'
'Thanks for the idea,' Salter told him.
At that moment, the Jago brothers walked in and stood at the end of the bar. Ford said, 'Got to go, old son. See you around.'
'Take care,' Salter told him.
Ford and Frazer joined the Jagos. Billy said, 'That settles
it, I'd say.'
'Yeah. But we still need to know exactly what they're up
to.'
'How do we do that?'
'The old-fashioned way. Follow them to see where it leads. Come on.'
Baxter and Hall waited in the Range Rover parked up the
street. Salter said, 'Don't bother with me, I'll get a taxi.
You wait with Billy. The Jagos are inside, with Manchester
Charlie Ford. When they come out, follow them. You've
got those night glasses in the glove compartment, Joe, the Russian things.'
'Sure have, Harry.'
'Get on with it, then,' and Salter walked away.
It was half an hour later that the Jagos emerged, with Ford and Frazer. They went up the street to a Ford station wagon,
got inside, and drove away. To Billy's surprise, they were
aiming for home territory, Wapping. There was plenty of
late evening traffic and Baxter stayed well back. The station wagon finally turned into a narrow road between old warehouses, mostly refurbished.
'St Richard's Dock,' Baxter said. 'They turned all the old warehouses into offices and such last ear.'
'Any housing, apartments?' Billy asked.
'No.'
'Then what the hell are they up to? Pull in at the end of
the street and give me those glasses.'
Baxter parked in the shadow of a wall and they got out.
Billy focused the glasses, as the Jagos and the other two got
out and went down stone steps to the shingle beach beside
the river. They started to walk, and Billy watched, for they
were clearly seen in the strange green glow of the glasses.
'The tide's out,' Hall said. 'Otherwise, they'd be swim
ming.'
'They've disappeared,' Billy said. 'We'll wait.'
It was ten minutes later that the Jagos and the others
reappeared and walked back along the beach. They climbed
the steps, got in the station wagon, and drove away.
'Okay,' Billy said. 'Get the torch from the Range Rover,
Joe, and we'll take a look.'
He found what he was looking for with no trouble, an
arched entrance to a tunnel, dark and wet, lichen growing over the ancient stoneware. There was a damp river smell
to everything. He led the way, probing the darkness with
the torchlight, and came to a huge rusting iron grille gate.
There was a lock, everything corroded tight.
'So what are they up to?' Baxter asked.
'God knows, but we'll find out. Back to Harry,' and he
turned and led the way out.
In his personal booth at the end of the bar at the Dark
Man, Harry Salter sipped beer and listened. 'St Richard's
Dock. I've got a piece of that, Billy.' He called to Dora and
she came round the bar. He put an arm round her waist.
'Have a look in the file in my office, love, St Richard's
Dock.'
'Anything for you, Harry.'
'Yes, I know that, only just get me the bleeding file.'
She was back in a couple of minutes. He opened the
file, took out a plan and checked it. 'Two merchant banks,
estate agent, property developers, two restaurants, the White
Diamond Company.' He sat back. 'Jesus Christ, no, they
couldn't. I mean, a place like that these days. It's state-of-
the-art security. The bleeding works. I can't believe this.'
Strangely, it was Billy who said, 'Just take it slowly, Harry.
Let's consider what they were doing on the beach in that
tunnel.'
'You're right, Billy, you're learning.' He turned to Hall.
'Have a look in the saloon bar. See if that old geezer Handy Green's in. He usually is. Used to be a barge captain. There's
nothing he doesn't know about the river – more than me,
and that's saying something.'
Hall went off, and returned a moment later with an
ancient and wizened man, all shrivelled up inside a reefer
coat and jeans.
Salter said, 'Handy, my old son. Come and join us for a
drink. I think you might be able to help me.'
'Anything, Harry, anything I can do, you know that.'
'The thing is, Handy, I've got a problem. You know St Richard's Dock?'
"Course I do, Harry.'
'They've redeveloped all the warehouses, office, all that.'
'Finished it last year. I used to work the boats, the old
sailing barges from there when I was a kid.'
'There's an interesting thing,' Harry said. 'Billy happened
to be on the beach there and noticed the entrance to a tunnel.'
'Well, he would, if the tide was out. If the tide's in, the
entrance is covered. It's called St Richard's Force.'
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' He took the
large brandy Dora brought and gave it to the old man.
'Oh, it's a medieval thing. Force meaning pressure, and
when the tide goes up, the water goes in that tunnel like
you wouldn't believe.' Handy swallowed his brandy greedily.
'The thing is, Harry, it's an interest of mine, London under
the ground. There's tunnels from Roman times, Norman
times, Tudor sewers, then the Victorians covered everything
up. I mean, all these modern multi-storey buildings and office
blocks haven't the slightest idea of how many tunnels and
sewers go through their foundations.'
'And you do?'
'Always been an interest of mine.'
'And St Richard's Dock?'
'Riddled, Harry, it's like a honeycomb down there.'
'Are you sure?'
'Harry, I've got old books with maps, Victorian.'
'Really?' Salter turned to Billy. 'Do me a favour, Billy,
take Handy round to his place and get these books. I'll
phone Ferguson, tell him what we've got.' Which he did, and Ferguson, alerted on his mobile, returned to Pine Grove.
An hour later at Pine Grove, Handy Green sat with Roper
and showed him some very interesting plans in some very
old books. Roper checked the information, then got to work.
Ferguson and Salter watched with Billy. Baxter and Hall
were in the canteen. The screen came alive with ground
plans.
'Extraordinary,' Roper said.
'What is it?' Ferguson asked.
'A network of Victorian tunnels and sewers adjacent to
the St Richard's Dock infrastructure. There are places where you'd only need a sledgehammer to smash through Victorian brick into the St Richard's basement.'
'So what's that bleeding mean?' Salter demanded.
Roper said, 'Let me check the St Richard's specifications.' His fingers moved on. Finally, he nodded. 'Interesting. State-of-the-art security, but it's all external. If you come up like a mole, you're home free.'
'That's it, it must be,' Salter said.
'I'd say.' Roper turned to Ferguson. 'Brigadier?'
'Looks like it, but when are they going to do it, that's the thing.' He turned to Salter and his nephew. 'Will you stay on the case? We know the place, but we need to know the time.'
'Well, I don't think it's on Tuesday, if you follow me. Not
from what Manchester Charlie Ford indicated. It'll be a week
to two weeks.'
'Well, do what you can.'
A pleasure, Brigadier. It makes a change being on the right
side for once. Come on, Billy, we'll leave and take Handy with
us. Tell you what, we'll keep an eye on the beach.'
They left, and Ferguson said to Roper, 'Do you have
anything for me on County Louth?'
'I've extracted everything I can from Regan. From what
I've surmised, I've done a breakdown on the Kilbeg place.
Do you want a quick look?'
'If you like.'
When Roper was finished, Ferguson sat there thinking
about it. 'A tricky one.'
'Very.'
'But I think it should be done sooner rather than later, in
view of what's happened.'
'I'd be inclined to agree.'
'Let's have something in the canteen and wait for Dillon
and Blake.'
'Just one thing, Brigadier.'
'Feel free.'
'I'm an old Irish hand, and I tell you now, there's no way
you can drive into that coastal area of County Louth and
pretend to be tourists.'
'Yes, I can see that. You're suggesting a sea approach?'
'It's the only way.'
'Show me County Down, Louth, the Scottish coast.' Roper tapped it up obediently. 'There you go.'
Ferguson said, 'What would you say about Oban on the
west coast there? Would that be a suitable point of depar
ture?'
'Perfect, Brigadier.'
'Excellent.' Ferguson took out his mobile and called Hannah
Bernstein at the office. 'Dillon not in yet?'
'Just landed at Farley Field, sir.'
'Good. I want him down here, Blake, too. Things are mov
ing, Superintendent. We're going to make an Irish expedi
tion. Speak to transportation. A motor cruiser, that kind
of thing.'
'Certainly, sir. Home port?'
'Oban. Any equipment Dillon needs, we'll call him when
he arrives. Make the meeting here and come yourself. I'm
sorry, but I may have to put you in harm's way again.'
'It's what I'm paid for, sir.'
Dillon and Blake wolfed bacon and eggs and listened to
Ferguson and Roper.
Hannah said, 'I think it might be useful if Dillon and
Sergeant Major Black had another chat with Regan, sir, just
to make sure he's being honest.'
'A sensible idea,' Ferguson said. 'Let's do it.'
They went up to Roper's suite first and he showed them
the situation at Kilbeg on the screen. 'It's very remote, a
village on the coast, population a hundred or so. Scattered
farms, hard-line Catholic Republicans. You couldn't move
an inch without the whole countryside knowing.'
'So it's got to be by sea,' Ferguson continued.
Dillon nodded. 'That's right. We'll go under cover of
darkness. Do a frogman job, if necessary.'
'Transport's already arranged a suitable boat from Oban,'
Hannah said, 'called the
Highlander.
They'll need to know
what equipment you want as soon as you can.
'No problem. I'll draw up a list. Are you coming, Blake?'
'I sure as hell am.'