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Day Three
Gandalph sat at a table in the back, sipping a small glass of red.
Nicks entered Keith’s Wine Bar, a favourite haunt in the old days, and looked around. Gandalph waved. What he didn’t see was the casual recognition that passed between Nicks and the taxi driver hidden from his view around the corner. Phil had an eye for an undercover bizzie. If there’d been such a thing as an annual competition, he’d be one of its all-time greats, hall of fame stuff. Certifying the place and its surroundings clear of any hidden dangers hadn’t taken long.
Nicks sat down, house red in hand. “What have you got for me?”
“It’s not much but as I’m probably in the shit with the boss when I tell him what I’ve already told you, you might as well know the rest. I found something interesting.” He lowered his voice and his head followed automatically. “I hacked SB’s system and found a file that mentioned Pilgrim. There’s no need to go into it but a covert reference in the contents led to me briefly hacking MI5.”
He saw the impressed look on Nick’s face. “It’s nothing. I did it last time and that’s how we nearly caught you. Anyway, I found a reference number with a comment next to it suggesting Pilgrim and Hobo were above board and authorising disposal. No idea where it originated from, the reference meant nothing to me and never appeared again but it carried authority because that’s exactly what happened.”
“So, you think the Police investigation was influenced through Special Branch via someone at MI5?”
“Looks like it.” Gandalph hesitated. “I’m not saying the companies weren’t legit, I’ve no idea of knowing, but someone wanted to expedite their clearance. Lisa MacMahon sold them shortly after to Edward Warren. Now, I’m not an expert in this by any means, but my ex Sergeant was pretty hot at it and I gleaned a few things from her. I can’t find anything that lets me know Warren had enough money to finance the purchases. Someone must have bankrolled him some of it at least.”
“Is it possible for you to go back in and take another look?”
Gandalph shook his head. “Too risky. They’ve probably recognised there’s been an incursion of some sort and they’ll be ready for another. I’m sorry, but it’s just not worth it.”
A pensive Nicks sat back. “With everything you told me about Warren, are you satisfied he’s who I’m looking for? Score of one to ten?”
“I’d be happy to say nine at the moment,” he replied, leaning forward as he lowered his voice when the waitress walked past.
“What about Spilbury?”
He grinned. “Well, he was always a six. I just didn’t realise you’d get so excited. Anyway, I’m still working on pinning Warren down; homes, associates, club memberships, that sort of thing.” He was lying. He’d built up the picture but he needed to retain something to keep him onside with his DCI.
Nicks looked thoughtful. He downed his wine and stood up. “I appreciate everything you’re doing, believe me. If you come up with anything else, don’t hesitate.” A quick smile and a hand on the shoulder.
“You’ll be off the hook soon, matey.”
He wandered back up the street towards Aigburth Road and, after thirty metres, slipped into the car alongside Anca who’d been patiently waiting, watching and wishing they were safe at home on a hill in Romania.