Chapter 46
He wasn’t sure what it was called anymore. Was it a lecture, a meeting, an input or something else? Whatever it was, it was now, thankfully, over. He clicked his pen and shoved it into his jacket pocket, screwed up his notes and doodles then dropped them in the bin.
In the corridor, a colleague touched his arm: “You got time for a brew in the canteen, Thurstan? There’ll be a few of us.”
A wan smile. “Sorry, Geoff, got loads on. Next time.”
He’d been there for an hour and a half and learnt nothing. He’d heard it all before. Obviously, some people hadn’t, judging by their enthusiasm for the subject which led to the extra half hour, but he had. He wondered who the hell kept picking him and what their master plan was. Maybe it was time for a name change.
On his return from the Training Centre, he sifted through the files on his desk, signed off several, wrote some comments on others and settled back to read Sharon Fenton’s surveillance logs.
Hairdressers, shops, a gym in the city centre. A trip to Chester, they’d lost her for forty-five minutes, Cheshire Oaks outlet stores and several liaisons with Brannan. More recently, the hairdresser’s, more shops, another gym, this time on the Wirral, and the meeting with McAvoy.
His phone rang. “There’s a Mister Kamiński at Reception for you.”
Downstairs, he greeted Hirek and they sat down in the waiting area. “Mister Kamiński. What can I do for you?”
He grinned. “Hirek, please. It’s not what you can do for me, Chief Inspector. I have something for you. You seemed to enjoy them the other day so I have brought you a selection. They are from Marks and Spencer and as you know they are very good.” He produced a large box from his carrier bag and handed it to Thurstan.
“Hirek, you really shouldn’t have. That’s very kind of you.”
“Ah, I know you will be worried about your waistline but if you do not eat them all at once, it will be no problem. Feel free to share them to your office. Now, I have to go. I have a bus to catch. This place is very handy for the buses, is it not?”
Thurstan looked out the front entrance at the new bus terminal that left very little room between it and Police HQ and laughed. “More so now than ever. Let me escort you to the door.”
On the third floor, he grabbed a saucer from the tray by the kettle, selected the best two, hesitated then picked up another. Walking away he called: “Cakes there! Help yourselves!”
He sat in his office brushing the crumbs off his pants then wiped his lips with his fingers. Degsy pushed the last bit of an éclair into his mouth and put the saucer down on the desk.
“Mmmm, very nice. Haven’t had one of those for a long time,” he mumbled between swallowing. “Right. McAvoy update. As you know, we dug up his mum’s garden and recovered twenty-five thousand pounds in a taped-up carrier bag and another fifteen thousand from under the floor boards at that swanky little place on Devonshire Road he’s just started renting. He says he won it on a horse but it’s quite clear he wouldn’t know one end of a betting slip from another. The wrappers have been dusted and we’re waiting on the result. Meantime, he doesn’t know we know about his meeting with Sharon.
“In respect of the trainer prints, he admits he borrowed the narrowboat but says he took it in the other direction with a couple of mates. Refuses to name them, says they’re wanted on warrant and he’s no grass. Currently clinging to no comment. I’m having a check done on intel for known associates, particularly those on warrants, just in case he’s telling the truth in that respect.” He dropped his notes on the coffee table.
Thurstan leaned back and sucked the top of his pen thoughtfully. Degsy sat and watched him. Eventually: “Ok. There’s no way round it, Derek, we’re going to have to cut him loose again, however, I do have some good news. The DSU have been freed up again.”
“Was that the firearms job this morning?”
Thurstan grinned. “Yep! Great timing as it turns out. I spoke to the Chief earlier and he’s rubber-stamped it. So! A press release, I think. Something like, ‘Following raids in connection with investigations into the death of a man found hanging from a bridge over the Leeds and Liverpool canal, police have recovered a considerable amount of cash from two addresses in the Toxteth and Clubmoor areas of the city.’ That should be enough for his mates to recognise who we’re talking about. I doubt very much he was totally honest with them moneywise.”
“There’s a hint of danger in there, Boss. Do you think the Chief will be ok with it?” The DI squinted at him.
He laughed. “Completely. He wrote it. In his words, ‘Light the blue touch paper, sit back and see what happens.” He opened his drawer and produced a brown paper bag, briefly offered it, then popped a boiled sweet into his mouth before returning the bag to safety. “Incidentally, Derek,” he mused as he sucked. “Has Darius got a phone on him this time?”
“Yes, he has. And a quick look at the texts confirmed he’s had it a long time before the Brannan job. Some interesting stuff so far, meeting requests both in and out. Unnamed pay as you go.” He hesitated. “Are you thinking we check it for GPS? I’m pretty sure Sammy will have earmarked it for that but I’ll call him and double-check.”
“How come we never got it last time?”
Degsy shrugged: “He must have ditched it somewhere when he was locked up. His bird and his Mum denied all knowledge when asked and it never surfaced in any of the searches.”
Thurstan dropped the pen he’d been twiddling on the blotter. “I’ve been thinking. The gloves recovered from his girl’s place came up negative for forensics. Check if we went through the bins at the same time. If we didn’t then tell whoever did the original search to check collection day and, if we’re still in time, sort out a warrant and get back down there soonest. I think it might have been Iqbal and Mark. Right. That’ll do for now. What about GMP? Any progress?”
“Yeah, I got in touch with a bloke I know at Bootle Street and he was able to give us the low down. The victim was a central figure in a paedophile ring. GMP had located her in Liverpool but by the time they raided it, she’d gone. No signs of forced entry so she was obviously expecting someone and opened the door to them. Four in the chest and then three in the head as she lay on the floor. GMP Intel reckons she was trying to get money and a passport to do a runner. Their DCI thinks it’s gang-related and they did her away to save money and stop her talking when she got locked up.”
“Hmmm. Is Nickson still taking money out in Berlin?”
Degsy nodded. “Last time was two months ago. A thousand in all.”
Thurstan made a clicking sound and sighed, “It could be him. Or it could be gang-related. I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin. “Well, despite the Berlin thing, after his little cock-up in Budapest that time, I'm still pretty certain he's living in Hungary. It's a good deal cheaper there, overall, but I can’t see that lasting him for two months though. We should do a hotel check ...” He saw the face.
“I know!” He waved his hand in surrender and attempted an impression of his DI. “We’ve got too much on at the moment, Boss!” He chuckled. “I’ll put it on the back burner, come back to it when we’ve got some breathing space. Happy?”
Degsy smiled, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Boss. It’s part of my job to point these things out. You’ll thank me eventually.”