Dead or Alive (31 page)

Sep went around to Manson's side of the desk as Manson brought up a file entitled VF Portfolio.

‘Scroll down it all.'

Manson did as instructed. There were sixteen properties on the file, on which had been scanned all the title deeds and associated contracts and paperwork.

‘Is this up-to-date?'

‘Yes it is.'

‘Because if it isn't, any deal you and I have is terminated.'

‘It's up-to-date. This is all he has.'

‘Save it on the other stick while I watch.'

Two minutes later, Manson unplugged the memory stick and gave it to Sep, who now had a box file and two memory sticks containing details of all Formosa's Manson Estates property.

‘Right. If the children are found on any of these properties, our deal is terminated, as is your future. So, I'll ask you for one last time. Are the children on any of these properties?'

‘No.'

Sep stared at him, trying to glean the truth from his eyes. He decided this man wasn't lying.

‘Does he have any property other than these?'

‘Possibly. These are all the properties he has given me to handle. I believe he has property in London which is handled by a London estate agent.'

‘Whose name is?'

‘Peter Hamilton.'

‘Do you have his details?'

‘Yes.'

Manson opened a drawer in his desk, took out a file from which he produced a complimentary slip from the London agent, which he gave to Sep, who glanced at it, then back at Manson, his aggressive manner still in place.

‘I assume it was you who advised Formosa to buy the land off Strathmore for a knock-down price?'

‘It was me who told him about it and what potential it had, but I didn't advise him to kidnap Strathmore's children so he could get the land almost for nothing.'

‘So Formosa always pays the market price for his properties, does he?'

Manson hesitated before answering. Sep jumped in. ‘He doesn't, does he? I want a list of all the dealings you think might have been done using strong-arm methods.'

Manson stared at him with frightened eyes. ‘You've just asked me to sign my own death warrant.'

‘It's information that won't be used until
after
he's arrested and safely locked away. Once he's arrested we'll freeze off all his assets and once he's convicted we will strip him of every penny he has. He'll be the poorest man on the wing. Money is power to an imprisoned man and he'll have none of either.'

Sep got to his feet and handed Manson a small mobile phone and its charger.

‘You will keep this on you at all times. It is only for you to receive calls from me. Always keep it charged. My caller name will be J Lennon, just like the late Beatle. I will contact you, as and when I need you. Answer the phone the instant my name comes up on the screen. I do not want to hear any automated voices telling me I can't speak to you. And remember, the more you cooperate with us, the brighter your future.'

He turned to go, then he hesitated and turned back, saying, ‘You might be tempted to tell Formosa all about my visit in the foolish hope that he'll somehow be the one to keep you out of prison. Of course that's up to you, but you've just confessed to me that you were involved in the abduction. That alone will send you down, no matter what Formosa does to protect you.'

‘I could simply deny I said any such thing to you,' Manson blurted.

‘No you couldn't.'

Sep reached up to his lapel and, among all his lapel badges, he pulled out what looked like a tiny camera lens which he showed to Manson. Then he opened his coat to display a wire running down his shirt and into his trouser pocket. ‘You can deny it all you like, I've got your confession on video – sound and vision. You're on my side now, you piece of shit, whether you like it or not.'

‘I didn't say I
would
deny it, I just said I could,' said Manson.

‘And now you know you can't.'

‘Yes – now I know I can't.'

‘And don't forget the list of his strong-arm dealings I asked you for. I want financial details, names and dates. I'll call back later to pick it up. I should get it done now if I were you, with me being an impatient man.'

Sep left the office and walked to his bicycle, pulling the wire from his trouser pocket. It was a good idea he'd had to video his interview with Manson but, in view of the fact that he didn't have the right equipment at such short notice, it was a better idea just to fool Manson with a lens from a broken camera and a length of wire leading from behind his lapel to an empty pocket. He made up his mind to buy himself some decent equipment ready for the time when he really needed it. All that was needed right now was for Manson to believe that this undercover policeman had him bang to rights.

Sep put the boxfile into his capacious saddlebag and cycled off. As he rode home he pondered on the balance he'd achieved between the lies and truth he'd told Manson. He had a tried and tested theory; that an alarming truth will always trump a casual lie, especially in a terrified man, but it was very important to get the balance right. Yes, he was happy that he'd got Derek Manson completely fooled.

T
o say that Cope was apprehensive was an understatement. Being summoned into Formosa's office meant one of two things: a severe bollocking or a particularly dangerous job that no sane man would take on. Or perhaps three things. In certain circumstances it could mean the ultimate punishment and Cope was racking his brains to figure out what he might have done so wrong to merit a bullet. It was at times like this that he wondered if the money he was getting from Formosa was worth it. He tried to keep any timidity out of his brief knock, but he was not so bold as to knock and enter. He knocked three times and waited for Formosa to call out, ‘Come.'

The Maltese gangster was sitting behind a desk which dwarfed him. On his face was a look of annoyance, but not with Cope who sat down opposite him.

‘What's the problem, Vince?'

‘Problem? I'll tell you what problem. Twenty-four hours locked in a police cell was something of a problem.'

‘There wasn't much I could do about that, Vince, not without revealing my connection with you. I had to pretend that you being banged up was of no concern to me. You could have pressed charges against Strathmore, you know. He admitted to me that he would have killed you if you didn't tell him where the children are.'

Formosa glared at him. ‘Charging the bastard would be a complication I do not need. In fact, I am totally unhappy with this kidnapping business. It is something I will never do again. Violent parents; too many loose ends; too many people knowing my business. These people need to be eliminated.'

‘Such as?'

‘I sent someone to bring Manson in this morning, but he hadn't gone into work. His wife said he left at the normal time but he did not arrive. My man asked his receptionist if anything unusual had happened and she said no, apart from an odd-looking character who called in to see Manson yesterday. In her opinion he made Manson nervous.'

‘What was odd about him?'

‘He was some sort of a tramp. A man Manson should have kicked off his premises but he didn't. He took him back into his office. The receptionist mentioned something else as well. She said the man told her that he knew Manson from prison. He said they'd both done time together some years ago.' Formosa looked up at Cope. ‘If this is true, I knew nothing about it and I rely on you to vet everyone who works for me.'

‘I vet every new man who comes, but Manson was already with you when I arrived here. I assumed he'd been vetted already.'

‘It is wrong to assume anything in this business!' snapped Formosa. ‘You can vet him now. He gave the receptionist a name – James Lennon.'

‘Jam—! Oh shit. I think I know who he is. I have an informer called Jimmy Lennon. He's a Scottish vagrant but he's very useful. Let me ring Manson's receptionist. I need to know if he spoke with a Scottish accent.'

Two minutes later, the receptionist had confirmed that James Lennon spoke with a Scottish accent and that his description fitted Cope's man to a tee. Cope put the phone down and said to Formosa, ‘It's definitely him.'

‘What the hell was he doing at Manson's place? How would he even know about Manson?'

‘I've got no idea. He's a man who gets about a lot and gets to know stuff. He's been quite useful to me.'

‘A man who knows too much is not useful to me. It appears he's getting to know things about me and I want him dead. If he's your informer you should be able to get hold of him.'

‘I can.'

‘Then I want you to bring him back here today. I want him in my furnace by close of business tonight.'

‘I'll get him.'

Cope took out his mobile and tapped in the number Sep had given him for Jimmy Lennon. Sep answered in a Scottish accent.

‘Aye?'

‘Jimmy?'

‘Aye.'

‘We need to meet.'

Sep knew full well who he was. ‘Who are ye?'

‘The last time we met I saved your skin in a pimp's cellar.'

‘Och aye, inspector. Where'll we meet eh?'

‘Where we first met.'

‘Jesus, this is all very cloak an' dagger by the way. Am I being paid fer what ye owe me?'

‘You are.'

‘Guid man, yersel'. Will I see ye there in an hour, eh?'

‘Yes. One hour from now – ten o'clock.'

Cope clicked his phone off and looked at Formosa. ‘He's meeting me in an hour. He thinks I'm giving him five hundred. The trick is to get him back here.'

‘When he gets here I want him to tell me what went on between him and Manson, who'll be the next to go, and then the Kennedy man. I want all three gone, Lenny. This tramp is just the first. I need to tighten up this organization.'

‘What about the kids?'

‘I'll let them stay alive for a day or two until I decide. Why not? Hell, they still might be worth a couple of million.'

C
ope was already there when the man he knew as Jimmy Lennon walked in the Horse and Trumpet, ten minutes late. The policeman was sitting by a window with two glasses of beer in front of him, one half drunk. He was not looking forward to being joined by the most unsavoury-looking man in the place. With a small movement of his head he indicated that Sep join him.

‘You're late.'

‘It's why I never got on in life.'

Cope scowled. ‘I got you a pint of bitter.'

‘Aye, guid man. Did ye bring me ma five hundred notes?'

‘Not with me. You'll have to come with me to get it.'

Sep sat down and picked up the full pint, asking, ‘And where will I have te come?'

‘To the ex-gratia payments office.'

‘Ex-gratia, hey? They have such a place, do they?'

‘For larger sums, yes.'

‘And what do they call the guy who pays it out, by the way?'

‘What do you mean?'

Sep leaned forward so that his words would only be heard by Cope. ‘I mean, would his name be Formosa and would he be payin' me out in bullets? Tell me, how did he enjoy his night in a polis cell? It's something he'll need te get used te, by the way.

‘Yer see, Mr Cope, I know too much about ye te trust ye. I know yer in Formosa's pay. I know that Lee Dench grassed Formosa up te ye and I know that's why Dench was killed by two of Formosa's heavies – a black guy called Sharky and an Irishman called Spud. Sharky killed Dench with a shotgun and Spud killed the girl with a handgun – shot her through the mouth then they fucked off back te Hull where they used te live when they was alive.'

Cope's eyes widened in alarm at the mention of these names. Not only the names but their descriptions and details of who killed whom. Apart from him and Vince, no one in the whole Formosa organization was supposed to know the identity of any hitman. It was one of Formosa's golden rules designed more to protect him than the hitmen.

Sep continued: ‘I know Jez Copitch had a shoot out wi' Formosa's men and they were all kilt. This was all set up by Formosa himself just te rid himself of excess baggage. I also know that he's got Manson on his hitlist, along with Kevin, the guy who crashed his car into the nanny's car, and of course yer good self. He's clearing the decks is Formosa to prepare for an influx from the Smoke. Have ye no heard he's got men coming up frae London te join him?'

Cope listened to all this with mounting concern. ‘Jesus Christ! Where the hell did you get such rubbish?'

‘Rubbish is it? Can ye swear hand on heart that Formosa hasnae mentioned he wants rid of Manson? Can ye swear he wasn't the one who got rid of Dench when he grassed Formosa up te ye? And what d'ye think happened te Sharky and Spud, the two guys who did fer Dench and his woman? Why has no one seen them around lately? Tell me, Mr Cope, what makes ye think ye so fuckin' bulletproof. D'ye really think Formosa holds ye in such high regard? Has it ever struck ye how Superintendent Ibbotson can afford a new Lexus every year?'

‘What?'

‘Aye, yer boss was in Formosa's pay well before ye came on the scene and that makes one too many coppers for Formosa's liking. He's asked ye ter take me back wi' yer so he can take me out, has he not? After which, ye'll go as well. Killin' two turds with one stone, that's how he looks at it.'

Sep was taking wild stabs at what might be the truth but his stabs seemed to be hitting home. The Ibbotson comment was taking it almost too far but it was the one that might tip Cope his way – if he believed it.

He tried another one.

‘He's just got back off yet another holiday has Ibbotson, has he not? So where's he been?'

‘He went to the Algarve, golfing.'

‘No, he went to Monte Carlo, gambling with ten grand of Formosa's money. We both know Ibbotson likes a gamble, do we not?'