The avon rogue, p.16
The Avon Rogue, page 16
The BMW went through another red as it turned right onto London Road. It was a 30 mph speed zone but they were doing 70. At the roundabout ahead, Hussain had three options. He could turn left, which would eventually lead him onto the motorway. He could take the second exit, but that was a very bendy stretch of road, or he could take the third exit. This was the bypass and was a dual carriageway. He opted for the third option, where he hoped he could outrun the cop car and lose it.
As soon as he hit the dual carriageway, Hussain put his foot to the floor and was soon doing 120, but the cop car was not far behind him. ‘Shit, the bastards are still behind us. Sit tight. This could get a little bumpy.’
The white guy looked scared. He had been assured by the Rat that this was a regular arrangement that had worked perfectly well for months. Now, with all the drugs and cash in the back of the car, he could be locked up for a very long time. He had only taken the job as he had a two-year old daughter, and he wanted the best of everything for her and her mother. Another roundabout was fast approaching and Hussain hit the brakes. He slowed down to 40 and flew across it, narrowly missing a Jeep. He knew that this road led to Chippenham and the motorway. But he wanted to avoid the motorway at all costs as the traffic cops would deploy a T-pack, whereby three traffic cars would surround him and force him to stop. His best option was country roads, where he might be able to shake off his pursuers, unless of course they deployed a chopper.
With Alexander keeping control up to date with their route, a plan was being hatched to deploy a stinger at the roundabout at Corsham. This was a bed of nails that would gradually deflate the BMW’s tyres, forcing it to a halt. Hussain was on the road to Corsham, which was both winding and with a steep hill to climb. The road was also narrow, making it extremely dangerous to try and overtake. The cop car had little chance of overtaking and bringing Husain’s car to a stop. Hussain hit the gas once again and the BMW responded by hitting 90. Skelton backed off slightly as he did not want to panic the driver and cause him to crash. At this speed the occupants of the BMW would in all probability be killed. That was not on Skelton’s agenda.
Hussain was now on the steep climb up the hill towards Corsham. He could see a garage coming up on his right-hand side and there was a car parked opposite, on his side of the road. He would have to pull out to his right to pass the parked car. Then he saw the truck speeding down the hill towards him. He could see that it was a cement truck, if he hit that head on, they were both dead. All he could do was to hit the brakes and drive straight into the parked car. Hussain and his passenger began screaming seconds before the impact. There was a very loud bang then everything went black. The air bags had deployed as they had been designed to do. They had saved the occupants of the vehicle from certain death.
‘Crash, crash, crash!’ yelled Alexander into the radio. ‘We need paramedics and the fire brigade.’ Alexander was still relaying information to control as Skelton jumped out of the car. Spurrey and Turnbull were right behind him. People from the garage were running across the road to help. The windscreen had been smashed to pieces in the collision. This allowed Skelton to get his hand inside and open the driver’s door. Hussain was out cold but breathing. The air bag had probably knocked him out. Skelton could not see the passenger due to the inflated air bags. Spurrey had managed to open the passenger door.
‘Sir, this one is alive, but he’s been knocked out. Should I try and lift him out?’
Skelton walked around the back of the car and called to Spurrey.
‘No, we best leave them as they are, in case we injure them. The fire brigade will have to cut them out. Just check his airways are clear in case he chokes to death.’
Spurrey did as he was told and then searched the guy’s pockets. He retrieved the man’s phone, wallet and keys.
‘This guy is called Andrew Osborne and lives in Bath. I think I’ve seen him hanging out with Jake Ratten.’
Turnbull had checked the driver, who was still out cold and had retrieved his wallet and phone. The credit cards confirmed that he was Ali Hussain. Skelton opened a rear door and pulled out the Gucci bags and placed them on the bonnet of the police car. He opened the first bag, which had been behind Hussain. It was full of cash. The other bag contained what appeared to be pure cocaine. This was one hell of a drugs bust. Another traffic car had arrived, as had a paramedic. Very soon two fire engines were on scene and the crews set about cutting the occupants from the wreck. The phone that Spurrey had taken from Osborne began to ring.
Skelton said, ‘Give that to me,’ and he looked at the screen. The caller ID said Jake Ratten.
‘Yeah man?’ Skelton listened intently as Ratten spoke.
‘Did you get it, Andy?’
Skelton looked at Spurrey and spoke into the phone. He knew that he could not hide his soft Scottish accent, so there was no point in pretending to be Andy.
‘Yes, Andy delivered the cash to Ali and picked up the coke. Unfortunately, Mr Ratten, they were involved in a car accident and are now on their way to the RUH. But don’t worry, the drugs and cash are safe with me.’
Skelton listened. ‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Detective Chief Inspector Skelton.’
The phone went dead.
Alexander joined them at the bonnet of the police car.
‘That’s been a great day’s work, team. I want Chris and Ross to go in the ambulances. Handcuff them both as I don’t want them running off. Those two are going to prison for a very long time. If we can get Osborne to talk, we might be able to put the Rat away as well. But even if we don’t get the Rat, he’s lost a hell of a lot of money and the drugs. So he is going to be very pissed off with us, for a long time.’ Skelton exchanged high fives with his team. ‘Come on, Bill, let’s get this lot back to the station and have a few pints to celebrate.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
Skelton was sitting at his desk, finishing off a square sausage sandwich. He washed the last piece down with some tea. He had the file on Fergus Walsh, the missing father of PC Fergus Walsh, open in front of him. Included in the file were some bank and credit card statements. They were dated around the time of his disappearance and he assumed that they had already been carefully checked. An investigator will always check for any unusual activity in the bank and credit card accounts. Was there any evidence of blackmail? Had he made a substantial withdrawal of cash to fund his getaway? Skelton studied the credit card statements first, these covered the months of May, June and July. There was not much activity on them, just a handful of purchases totalling nearly £300 each month. The outstanding balance was cleared each month by direct debit.
He then turned his attention to the bank statement, which covered the same three months. On the credit side, there was only one credit each month, which was his salary. He had been a partner in a firm of chartered accountants; he had been well paid. Next, he looked at the monthly debits. There were no mortgage payments, so it appeared that the mortgage on the house had been redeemed, which left a healthy surplus in the bank account. He could see that a significant cheque was withdrawn but it did not identify the payee. He would need to look into this in case the cheque was to a third party.
There were monthly direct debits for council tax, the water, gas and electricity. There were numerous cash withdrawals from the ATM which totalled £1,000 each month. He used his debit card to pay for the shopping and petrol. On one of the statements, there appeared to be a quarterly standing order to the council for £75, but it did not detail what the payment was for. It seemed an insignificant amount and had obviously not drawn further investigation. He then picked up a photocopy of a Nationwide Building Society passbook. He quickly reconciled the large monthly cheque withdrawals from the bank as matching the cheque deposits to the building society. There was no financial suspicious activity whatsoever. Skelton sighed and leaned back in his chair. The man had clearly not intended to disappear, that was evident.
He picked up the Criminal Record Report. Walsh had never so much as received a speeding ticket. He then turned to the witness statements. Mrs Nancy Walsh had reported her husband as missing. It was a happy marriage and they had no financial problems. Mr Walsh had no health issues and had never consulted his GP with any mental health problems. They had a son, also called Fergus, and he was a seventeen-year-old schoolboy. It was the summer holidays when his father went missing. He had some lunch with his father at home before going out to play football at 2 pm. Mrs Walsh said that father and son got on well together. She stated that she had no idea where her husband had gone and further stated that she was certain that no other woman was involved. She also expressed that her husband was well liked and had no enemies. They both attended church every Sunday morning.
Skelton then read some more witness statements from friends and neighbours. These corroborated everything that Mrs Walsh had said. No one had any idea what could have become of Mr Walsh. There was also a witness statement from young Fergus Walsh’s teacher. He said that Fergus was a model pupil and well liked by his classmates. He was well behaved and very respectful to the teachers. He liked playing both football and rugby.
He rose from his chair and picked up his mug and plate and went to the canteen to rinse them. He bumped into constable Dave Lake, who had served in Bath for many years and was only five years away from retiring. ‘Hello, sir, that was a great drugs bust you made the other day. You surprised us all by your driving skills, we all thought you couldn’t drive.’
Skelton chuckled, ‘I prefer to walk, Dave, or let someone else drive, that way I can have the odd pint or two.’
Lake laughed, ‘Yes we do know that you and Bill enjoy the lunchtime pint.’
‘Dave, I’ve got a complete mystery on my hands. I have just spent the morning reading the file on Fergus Walsh, who went missing eight years ago. Since then, there have been no sightings of him, nor have we found his body. You worked the case back then. What are your thoughts on it?’
Lake rested against the wall and thought for a second. ‘I remember the case very well. Nobody had a bad word to say about the guy and no one thought he was the sort that would top himself. The thing is, sir, if he was murdered or he killed himself, surely, we would have found his body by now?’
Skelton rubbed his chin. ‘That’s what I can’t understand, Dave, but my money is on him having been murdered. Whoever did it must have found the perfect place to hide the body. But I’m fucked if I know where he is.’
Hussain and Osborne had been discharged the next day from hospital. Skelton and Alexander had interviewed them, but they were saying nothing. It was obvious that Osborne was scared of the Rat, even if they put him away behind bars. They did not have enough evidence to charge the Rat, but they were both happy that he had lost £250,000 in cash as well as the drugs. Murray was sitting tight for the moment, which had surprised Skelton. Maybe his little visit to Murray had had the desired effect. He certainly hoped so. DI Patrick Rees had been in touch from Bristol almost every day. He reported that both Mickey Chadwell and Ben Naylor were often seen together, so that partnership appeared intact. There was no evidence to suggest that Naylor was joining forces with Murray in Bath. Maybe their fears of a turf war in Bath and Bristol were unfounded.
Alexander knocked on the door and entered. Skelton was putting on his suit jacket. ‘Good timing, Bill, I could go some fish and chips in the Saracen’s Head. I saw a couple getting tucked into some the other day, and it looked delicious.’
Alexander smiled. ‘You must have been reading my mind, I fancy some fish and chips today and a couple of pints. But I am putting a blindfold on you today in case you recognise another drug dealer and we end up going hungry again.’
Skelton laughed. ‘All right, Bill, my eyes are shut tight. You lead the way, my friend.’ Skelton closed his eyes and pretended to be blind, and Alexander led him by the arm.
They got to the Saracen’s Head without incident and they walked in the door. Toby the barman was behind the bar and greeted them warmly. They ordered their food and drinks and returned to the same table that they had occupied on their previous visit. ‘How did it go at court this morning, Bill.’
Alexander had attended Bath Magistrates Court that morning where Hussain and Osborne had appeared charged with conspiracy to supply drugs and money laundering. Hussain had also been charged with dangerous driving. ‘A piece of cake, Dan. They were both remanded in custody and their case was sent to Bristol Crown Court for trial. My guess is that with the evidence we have against them, they will plead guilty so that they get twenty-five percent knocked off their sentence. But they will still get ten or twelve years each.’
They both lifted their pints and clinked glasses and smiled.
‘Well, that was certainly a great result, Bill, but we aren’t making much if any progress on the Stephen Cox case. I know Peter is up and running on the Gaydar website but so far nothing of interest has turned up. We have quite a dilemma here, Bill. If the killer is searching for another victim, he might not choose the profile that Peter is using, and some other poor soul ends up with his throat cut. On the other hand, the killer might have had enough and simply goes to ground. Neither scenario is good for us. I honestly don’t know if we will solve this. I just wish we could get a lucky break. Talking of luck, I’m going next door to the bookies, William Haggas has a horse running this afternoon at Newmarket in a maiden’s race. I think his horse will take some beating.’
Chapter Thirty-Six
James Murray had instructed Ben Naylor to set up the meeting with Jake Ratten. It had not been easy to arrange, as Ratten had been concerned by the visit from the police warning him that Murray was in town and was likely to make a move against him. However, Naylor managed to convince him that Murray would be on his own and that he could have his own minders with him, meaning it would be three against one. The meeting would take place at Ratten’s flat, which meant that the Rat and his minders could have weapons should they need them. Murray would agree to being searched by Ratten’s minders before getting close to him.
At precisely 8 pm, Murray approached the door of the flat. Naylor had picked him up from the house and dropped him off across the road from where the Rat lived. Naylor had then driven back to Bristol where he met his girlfriend. They had a table booked for nine at his favourite Indian restaurant where he was well known by the staff. The restaurant also had extensive CCTV cameras which would give him a perfect alibi should something sinister happen to the Rat.
Murray rang the bell. It was immediately answered by the Rat’s minders, Jason Andrews and Jeff Roberts. ‘Good evening, gentlemen, I see that you were expecting me.’
The minders closely looked him up and down before nodding that he should come inside. As Murray brushed past them, Andrews gruffly said, ‘Just wait there. We need to search you properly before you go any further.’
Murray smiled. ‘Go ahead, boys, but I am not carrying anything except my wallet and keys and a couple of pills for having a good time with.’ The minders carefully patted Murray down. He was clean. They were content that should he decide to, they were man enough to cancel out the threat.
‘Follow us through. Mr Ratten is waiting for you.’
The Rat was sitting in a large armchair, a gin and tonic was resting on a small table to his right. The three men entered the sitting room and the Rat got up to meet his visitor. Murray was slightly larger than him and was smartly dressed in a navy-blue blazer, trousers and a white shirt, which was open at the neck. The Rat was wearing blue jeans and a short-sleeved blue shirt with his initials on the breast pocket.
‘Hello, I’m Jack Ratten. You must be James Murray.’
The Rat extended his right arm and Murray did likewise. They shook hands and Murray said, ‘James Murray at your service. I have heard a lot about you. All good of course.’
The Rat laughed and said, ‘Yes and I have heard quite a lot about you. Not many guys kill a cop and get away with it, that’s for sure. Can I get you a drink?’
Murray smiled and said, ‘Actually, a gin and tonic would go down rather well.’
The Rat nodded to Roberts to fix the drinks.
Murray was sitting opposite the Rat and the minders were seated on the sofa. ‘Well, James, what brings you to Bath and what is it that you want from me?’
His tone was businesslike, almost formal. Murray took a sip from the glass. ‘That’s a lovely gin and tonic. You have trained your barman really well.’
They both smiled and raised their glasses in salute. ‘Jake, this is just a social visit, so to speak. I know that you run Bath and I respect that, and I am only here to pay you my respects. As you probably know, I run a large manor in south-east London, which keeps me in a comfortable lifestyle. My reason for coming to Bath is simply to keep my head down in this beautiful city. Since I killed that cop in London, I am not very popular with the police, as I am sure you will understand. I thought that by moving here, I could semi-retire whilst my guys back in London minded the shop for me.’
The Rat had been listening intently. He knew that Murray was talking bullshit. That copper Skelton had warned him to expect trouble from Murray, but so far his actions were very far from being hostile. In fact, Murray had put himself at great risk by coming here alone unarmed. Suddenly, the Rat was asking himself the question, ‘Had Skelton tried to start a war, knowing that he could get either man killed?’ The Rat was confused. Murray was not showing any signs of being dangerous. Could it be that Murray was actually a potential friend, rather than an enemy? The more he thought about it the more he became convinced that Skelton was the real enemy, not Murray. The Rat ordered Roberts to get more drinks and he began to relax.
