Graveyard to hell, p.27
Graveyard to Hell, page 27
‘Absolutely.’
‘Doesn’t make sense then, does it?’
‘It does if O’Connor was just a front man.’
‘I suppose so. Just try proving that and see where it gets you. I know one thing – if it is Vernon’s place then someone certainly has it in for him.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘My God, it’s almost eleven. Too late for me. See you two in the morning.’
He moved away and Brady turned to Miller. ‘Ready to go, Nick? Not much more we can do here.’
‘You know, Grant’s right,’ Miller said. ‘Whoever set this little lot up for us must really have it in for Vernon. Hang on a minute. I want to make a ’phone call.’
‘Checking on someone?’
‘That’s right – Duncan Craig.’
‘Not that again, Nick,’ Brady groaned. ‘Why don’t you leave it alone?’
Miller ignored him and went to the ’phone box on the corner. Harriet Craig sounded cool and impersonal. ‘Harriet Craig speaking.’
‘Nick Miller.’
‘Hello, Nick.’ There was a new warmth in her voice. ‘When are you coming round to finish your supper?’
‘Almost any day now. I’m just waiting for the crime figures to fall. Is your father in? I’d like a word with him.’
‘I’m sorry, he isn’t. He’s working late tonight. Was it important?’
‘Not really. I’ve got a rest day Saturday and I thought he might be interested in a game of golf.’
‘I’m sure he would. Shall I tell him to give you a call?’
‘Yes, you do that. I’ll have to go now, Harriet, we’re having a hard night.’
‘Poor Nick.’ She laughed. ‘Don’t forget to keep in touch.’
‘How could I?’
He replaced the receiver and went back to Brady. ‘Now there’s a thing – guess where Craig is at this very moment? Working late at the factory.’
‘Gulf Electronics is only just down the road,’ Brady said. ‘The big new block. You can see it from here. There’s a light in one of the top-floor offices.’
As Miller turned, the light went out. ‘Let’s take a look.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Brady said as they moved to the car. ‘But I think you’re making a big mistake.’
As they drove away there was a low rumble of thunder in the distance and quite suddenly, the light rain which had been falling steadily for the past hour turned into a solid driving downpour. The main gates of Gulf Electronics stood open and Miller pulled into the side of the road and switched off.
At the same moment, the glass entrance doors opened and Duncan Craig appeared, the night guard at his side with the Alsatian.
‘That’s old George Brown,’ Brady said. ‘Sergeant in “B” Division for years. Got himself a nice touch there.’
Brown went back inside, locking the doors, and Craig stood at the top of the steps, belting his raincoat and pulling on his gloves. He turned up his collar, went down the steps and hurried into the darkness of the car park. A second later, two men moved out of the shadows at the side of the door and went after him.
‘I don’t like the look of that one little bit,’ Miller said, wrenching open the door. ‘Come on!’
He turned in through the gates, running hard, and from somewhere in the darkness of the car park there came a scream.
Duncan Craig had almost reached his car when he heard the rush of feet through the darkness behind and swung round. A fist lifted into his face as he ducked and he staggered back against the car, flinging himself to one side. One of his assailants raised an iron bar two-handed above his head and brought it down with such force that he dented the roof of the Jaguar.
A razor gleamed in the diffused light from the street lamps on the other side of the railings and he warded off the descending blow with a left block, and kicked the man sharply in the stomach so that he screamed in agony.
There was another rush of feet through the darkness and Miller and Brady arrived. The man with the iron bar started to turn and Brady delivered a beautiful right to the jaw that had all his fourteen stone behind it.
There was a sudden silence and Craig laughed. ‘Right on time. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
Miller snapped the cuffs on the man who was lying on the ground and hauled him to his feet. ‘Anyone you know, Jack?’
Brady held the other one against Craig’s car. ‘They’re not off our patch, that’s certain. Specially imported I shouldn’t wonder.’
Miller turned on Craig savagely. ‘Maybe you’ll listen to reason from now on.’ He sent his prisoner staggering into the darkness in front of him. ‘Come on, Jack, let’s take them in.’
Craig stood there in the darkness without moving until the Cooper had driven away and then he unlocked the door of the Jaguar and climbed behind the driving wheel. He knew something was wrong the moment she refused to start. He tried several times ineffectually, then took a flashlight from the glove compartment, got out and raised the bonnet. The rotor arm had been removed, an obvious precaution in case he’d beaten them into the car. He sighed heavily, dropped the bonnet and moved across to the main gates.
It was only twenty past eleven and there were plenty of late buses about, but in any case, he would be able to get a taxi in City Square. He crossed the road quickly, head down against the driving rain.
Someone moved out of a doorway behind him, he was aware of that, and then the pain as a sharp point sliced through his raincoat and jacket to touch bare flesh.
‘Keep walking,’ Billy Stratton said calmly. ‘Just keep walking or I’ll shove this right through your kidneys.’
They turned into a narrow alley a few yards further along, Craig walking at the same even pace, hands thrust deep into his pockets. A lamp was bracketed to the wall at the far end and beyond, the river roared over a weir, drowning every other sound.
‘A good thing I came along, wasn’t it?’ Stratton said. ‘But then I have an instinct for these things. I knew something would go wrong just as I knew you were trouble from the first moment I clapped eyes on you. But not any more, you bastard. Not any more.’
Craig took to his heels and ran and Stratton cried out in fury and went after him. The cobbles at the end of the alley were black and shiny in the light of the old gas lamp and beyond the low wall that blocked the end, the river rushed through the darkness.
As Craig turned, Stratton paused, the knife held ready, a terrible grin splitting the white face, and then he moved with incredible speed, the blade streaking up. To Duncan Craig, it might have been a branch swaying in the breeze. He pivoted cleanly to one side, secured the wrist in a terrible aikido grip and twisted the hand back in the one way nature had never intended it should go, snapping the wrist instantly.
Stratton screamed soundlessly, his agony drowned by the roaring of the river. He staggered back clutching his broken wrist, mouthing obscenities, and as Craig picked up the knife and moved towards him, turned and stumbled away.
Craig went after him, but Stratton thundered along the alley as if all the devils in hell were at his heels, emerged into the main road and ran headlong into the path of a late-night bus.
There was a squeal of brakes as the bus skidded, a sudden cry and then silence. A moment later voices were raised and when Craig reached the end of the alley, passengers were already beginning to dismount, men crouching down to peer under the wheels.
‘Oh, my God, look at him!’ A woman sobbed suddenly and Craig turned up his collar and walked away quickly through the heavy rain.
11
The disk shot high into the air, poised for one split second at the high point of its trajectory and disintegrated, the sound of the gunshot reverberating through the quiet morning.
The rooks lifted into the air from their nests in the beech trees at the end of the garden, crying in alarm, and Duncan Craig laughed and lowered the automatic shotgun.
‘I’m not too popular, it would seem. Let’s have another.’
As Harriet leaned over the firer to insert another disk, Jenny came out through the French windows. ‘There’s a gentleman to see you, Colonel Craig. A Mr Vernon.’
Craig paused in the act of reloading the Gower and turned to Harriet, who straightened slowly. ‘Does he now?’ he said softly. ‘All right, Jenny, show him out here.’
Harriet came to him quickly, anxiety on her face, and he slipped an arm about her shoulders. ‘Don’t get alarmed. There’s nothing to worry about. Not a damned thing. Let’s have another one.’
The disk soared into the air and this time he caught it on the way down, a difficult feat at the best of times, snap-shooting from the shoulder, scattering the fragments across the lawn.
‘Am I supposed to be impressed?’ Vernon said and Craig turned to find him standing in the French windows, Ben Carver at his shoulder.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t Mr Vernon,’ Craig said. ‘And to what do we owe the honour?’
Vernon nodded towards Harriet. ‘What about her?’
Craig smiled faintly. ‘Anything you say to me, you say to Harriet. She’s my right arm.’
Vernon took a cigarette from a platinum case and Carver gave him a light. ‘All right, Colonel, I’ll put my cards on the table. I made a mistake about you, that I freely admit, but I know when I’m beaten.’
‘I wish I knew what you were talking about,’ Craig said.
Vernon obviously had difficulty in restraining himself. ‘Let’s stop beating about the bush. I’ve lost the Flamingo and my place up the York Road and then Billy Stratton meets with a nasty accident. You aren’t going to tell me I’m just experiencing a run of bad luck?’
‘It can happen to the best of us.’
‘All right – I’ll lay it on the line. You’ve had your fun – you’ve broken me, so I’m getting out just as soon as I can find a buyer for what’s left. I’m asking you to leave it alone from now on – all right?’
‘Oh, no, Mr Vernon,’ Craig said softly. ‘Not in a thousand years. I’ll see you in hell first and that’s a very definite promise.’
‘That’s all I wanted to know.’ Far from being angry Vernon now smiled amiably. ‘You’re being very silly, old man. I mean it isn’t as if you’ve only got yourself to consider, is it? There’s Harriet here …’
He got no further. There was an ominous click and the barrel of the shotgun swung round to touch his chest. Craig’s eyes seemed to look right through him and the voice was cold and hard.
‘If you even try, Vernon, I’ll shoot you down like a dog. In your own home, in the street – you’ll never know when it’s coming – never feel safe again.’
For a long moment Vernon held his gaze and then quite suddenly he nodded to Carver. ‘Let’s go.’
They walked across the lawn and disappeared round the side of the house. Harriet moved to her father’s side. ‘Why did he come?’
‘For another look at the opposition I think. Nothing like knowing the enemy – a cardinal rule of war and Vernon was a good officer, make no mistake about that.’
‘But what was the point of all that business about selling out and asking you to lay off?’
‘Who knows? It might have worked – perhaps that’s what he was hoping. He may even be up to something.’ Duncan Craig smiled. ‘We’ll have to find out, won’t we?’
‘What now, Mr Vernon?’ Ben Carver said as he turned the Rolls into the main road.
‘We’ll go back to the club,’ Vernon told him. ‘After lunch I want you to drive down to Doncaster to pick up Joe Morgan. I told him to leave the London train there just in case.’
‘Do I bring him back to the Flamingo?’
Vernon shook his head. ‘No more indoor meetings – too risky. I’ll be waiting on one of those benches next to the fountain in Park Place.’
‘Thinking of Craig?’
Vernon nodded. ‘There’s always the odd chance that he has more of those gadgets of his planted around the place.’
‘When are we going to do something about him?’
‘Thursday morning,’ Vernon said. ‘Right after the job and just before we leave.’ He leaned forward and his voice was cold. ‘And you can forget about the we part right now. I settle with Craig personally – understand?’
It was cold in the mortuary and when Jack Brady lifted the sheet to reveal Billy Stratton’s face it was pale and bloodless.
‘But there isn’t a mark on him,’ Grant said.
‘I wouldn’t look any lower if I were you,’ Miller told him.
‘What a way to go. You’re satisfied with the circumstances?’
‘Oh, yes, the driver of that bus didn’t stand a chance. It was raining heavily at the time and Stratton simply plunged across the road, head-down. He’d been drinking, by the way.’
‘Much?’
‘Five or six whiskies according to the blood sample.’
Grant nodded to Brady, who replaced the sheet. ‘Who did the formal identification?’
‘Ben Carver – reluctantly, I might add.’
Brady chuckled. ‘I had to twist his arm a little. He wasn’t too pleased.’
‘Oh, well, I’m not going to weep crocodile tears over the likes of Billy Stratton,’ Grant said. ‘We’re well rid of him.’ He shivered. ‘I don’t know why, but this place always makes me thirsty. They must be open by now. Let’s go and have one.’
The saloon bar of the George had just opened and they had the place to themselves. They stood at the bar and Grant ordered brandies all round.
‘What about these two villains who had a go at Craig last night?’ he asked Miller. ‘Have you got anywhere with them?’
‘Hurst and Blakely?’ Miller shook his head. ‘A couple of real hard knocks. We’ve had a sheet on each of them from C.R.O. a yard long.’
‘Which means they were specially imported,’ Brady said.
Grant nodded. ‘I don’t like the sound of that at all.’ He swallowed some of his brandy and gazed down into the glass reflectively. ‘You know I’m beginning to think I may have been wrong about this whole thing, Nick. It’s just that it seemed such an incredible idea.’
‘Duncan Craig’s a pretty incredible person,’ Miller said. ‘I tried to make that clear at the very beginning.’
‘Have you seen him since last night?’
Miller shook his head. ‘I tried this morning, but he wasn’t available. Gone to Manchester on business I was told. Of course he’ll have to come in to swear a formal complaint.’
‘When he does, let me know. I think I’d better have a word with him myself.’
‘You’ll be wasting your time, sir,’ Miller said. ‘He’ll insist that the whole thing was quite simply a common assault and we can’t prove otherwise.’
‘But Hurst and Blakely won’t get more than six months apiece for that.’
‘Exactly.’
Grant frowned. ‘There’s no chance at all that they might crack and admit who hired them?’
‘If I know Max Vernon, they won’t even know his name,’ Miller said.
Grant sighed and emptied his glass. ‘All in a day’s work I suppose. Let’s have another one.’
‘On me,’ Miller said.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ a cheerful voice interrupted. ‘My round. The same again, Maggie, and make them big ones.’
Chuck Lazer grinned hugely as he climbed onto a stool next to Brady.
‘What’s all this?’ Miller demanded. ‘Last time I saw you, you were on your knees.’
‘With the world falling in on me, but not now, boy. Not with the pressure off.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Max Vernon.’ Lazer shrugged. ‘I mean he’s on the run, isn’t he? Everyone knows his betting shops have taken a hammering since the Flamingo closed and now last night’s little affair.’
‘And what little affair would that be?’ Brady put in.
‘Come off it,’ Chuck said. ‘You know what I’m talking about. That place he was running up the York Road. The cut liquor racket.’ He chuckled. ‘He was making a packet there, too.’
‘You mean Max Vernon was behind that place?’
‘Sure – everyone knows that.’ Lazer looked surprised. ‘Didn’t you?’
Miller looked at Grant. ‘See what I mean, sir?’
Grant sighed. ‘All right. So I was wrong, but just try proving it, that’s all. Just try proving it.’
Park Place was a green oasis on the fringe of the city centre surrounded by old Victorian terrace houses already scheduled for demolition to make way for an inner Ring Road.
It was much favoured by office workers during their lunch-break, but at three-thirty when Max Vernon arrived it was quite deserted except for the cars parked round the edges and the small, greying man in the camel-hair coat who sat on a bench near the fountain.
He was reading a newspaper and didn’t even bother to look up when Vernon sat beside him. ‘I hope you aren’t wasting my time?’
‘Did I ever, Joe?’
‘What about that Cable Diamonds job? I got nicked – five hard years while you sat laughing your head off in some fancy club or other.’
‘Luck of the draw.’
‘You never get involved personally, do you, Vernon? You never dirty your hands.’
‘Two hundred to two hundred and ten thousand quid, Joe. Are you in or out?’
Morgan’s jaw dropped. ‘Two hundred grand? You must be joking.’
‘I never joke. You should know that by now.’
‘What’s in it for me?’
‘Half – you provide your own team and pay them out of your cut.’
‘And what in the hell do you do?’
‘I’ve done my share.’ Vernon patted his briefcase. ‘It’s all here, Joe. Everything you could possibly need and it’ll go like clockwork – you know me. I never miss a trick.’
‘Not where you’re concerned you don’t.’ Morgan shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Fifty per cent. That’s a big slice to one man.’
‘You’ll only need three men in the team. Give them ten thousand each – contract it beforehand. That still leaves you with seventy – maybe more.’ Morgan sat there, a frown on his face, and Vernon shrugged. ‘Please yourself. I’ll get somebody else.’
He started to his feet and Morgan pulled him back. ‘All right – no need to get shirty. I’m in.’
