A Real Job (14 page)

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Authors: David Lowe

BOOK: A Real Job
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‘You wouldn’t think George was a son-in-law to a Law Lord would you, ‘ Steve said.

‘To be honest, no,’ Ben said as the three men walked out of the station, ‘I mean George’s a nice bloke but he’s just an ordinary working class man.’

‘And?’ David said.

‘No offence, but you don’t see someone like George or us three marrying into that type of family,’ Ben said unlocking the unmarked SO15 car. The officers got into the car and Ben started the engine. Looking at David sat next to him in the front passenger seat, he said, ‘Knowing your socialist principles, I suggest we change the subject back to McCrossan before we get into a discussion on social class. At least what your snout said has put him back into our sights. We’ve got a detail watching Lord Trevelyan and he’s been briefed, but he isn’t happy about having his movements checked with us first. He’s a real strong character that’s quite independent.’

‘Have you managed to find McCrossan?’ Steve asked as Ben was slowly making his way through the heavy traffic towards the SO15 offices at New Scotland Yard.

‘No, not since he tried to kill you two last week, but we’ve got officers at all the locations we believe he frequents.’

‘Leave that to us,’ David said, ‘we’ll find him.’

‘No you don’t,’ Ben said, ‘you’re under strict orders to do nothing more than gather intelligence and sit tight until we tell you to do otherwise.’

*     *     *

Checking the intelligence on the Real and Continuity IRA as well as former PIRA members at the SO15 office, David and Steve huddled around the screen of the PC on Ben’s desk when David’s mobile rang. Picking it up, he saw it was Debbie calling. ‘Hello love, is everything alright?’

‘Yes fine. I got your text message to say you arrived safely. I’m coming down to London first thing in the morning. I’m getting the twenty past seven train from Manchester Piccadilly and it gets in at half nine. Could you meet me?’

‘Of course. I know how you can’t bear to be parted from me.’

‘While that’s true, I have to meet Jenny at Thames House. Craig wangled it so I can help you out with MI5 records and any other assistance that you may need on your Irish enquiry. He contacted Jenny and I’ve spoken to her and she’s very interested in your hypothesis on the IRA position. Once I arrive, we can go to the hotel and I’ll drop my bag off and the three of us can go to Thames House. Is Ben with you? I just need to pass on a few details that might help him.’

‘Yes. Do you want to speak to him?’

‘Please, then ask him to put you back on.’

*     *     *

With frustration building on the slow progress SO15 were making in finding McCrossan, David and Steve ignored the instruction not to get involved operationally in the investigation and decided to visit locations in London likely to be frequented by him to try and draw the Irishman out. ‘Here you are Davey,’ Steve said handing him a pint of bitter in the Lord Nelson pub, opposite the Trafalgar pub by the Old Bailey courts. ‘Seeing how Debbie’s coming down tomorrow, we’d better make the most of a lads’ night out.’

‘You’re not getting tired of Debbie being around most of the time are you?’ David asked.

‘Not at all. I think she’s the best thing to happen to you for ages.’

‘Thanks, I don’t want to lose your friendship because of her.’

‘There’s no worries on that score.’ Steve took a sip of his beer, then placing his glass on the table, he said, ‘If we’re having a lads’ night out, this is not quite what I had imagined it would be. How long do you want to wait to see if we come across McCrossan?’

David looked at his watch, ‘It’s just gone eight so we’ll give it another half hour or until Peter joins us. I called him when you were getting the drinks in. As his chambers are only round the corner from here, I asked him to come out for a drink. He said once he finished off reading a brief for court tomorrow, he’ll join us.’

‘Good, because then we can relax and have a good night. You are getting a bit fixated with these Irish lads. Have you forgotten, we’re under orders not to get involved in the street work, or as usual, are you ignoring orders?’

‘No, I’m still following orders, We’re out for a drink after work that’s all. If we bump into McCrossan then so be it.’

‘I understand why you’re frustrated at the pace of the investigation. As Ben’s DCI told us, we are in effect victims of a crime that took place last week and our judgement can be called to question. She’s right. You’ve dragged me round London over the last four hours in areas you think McCrossan will be.’

‘This is the last place on our list McCrossan’s likely to frequent.’

After taking a sip of his drink, Steve said, ‘Our list? Don’t you mean your list. I’m doing this because you’re a good mate and to keep you out of trouble. I mean, what do you plan to do if we see McCrossan?’

‘Lift him of course.’

Prodding his right index finger on the table Steve said, ‘And how are we going to explain to SO15 how we came to arrest him? Tell me that.’

‘Simple. We went out for a drink and saw him.’

Sitting back in his chair Steve folded his arms and said, ‘You really piss me off at times with your pig headedness. You’ve done this job as long as I have and on both occasions we’ve seen him outside a police cell or court, he’s tried to kill us. So it isn’t going to be that easy.’

‘Stop nagging. To shut you up we’ll call it quits, have a drink without thinking about McCrossan and wait for Peter. Then we’ll leave here for a good night on the piss,’ David said sulkily picking up his drink.

‘Good. If anyone knows how you feel it’s me. I’m just as pissed off as you about the slow progress. I want to get my hands on the Irish fucker just as much as you do, so let’s do this properly and work with SO15 not against them.’ Looking over to the door Steve saw Peter Hurst enter the pub, ‘say no more about it, here’s your Peter now.’

David got up and walked over to his brother, ‘Hi Peter, I’ll get you one in. Bitter? The Director’s bitter is good in here.’

‘It’s just what I need,’ Peter said raising his hand to Steve while David ordered Peter’s drink, ‘it’s been a long day and I could have done without this fraud brief I got. Fraud trials are complicated enough and this one’s a pig to get your head around.’

As the barman was pulling Peter’s pint, David said, ‘Well you’re a QC now so you’re going to get the tough cases from now on. You’ll sort it, you always do.’

‘Excuse me a minute, I need the gents,’ Peter said, ‘do us a favour and take my drink over, I’ll just be a minute.’

‘Sure, when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.’

Peter walked over to the far end of the bar area that still had that old London pub feel to it. Preferring it to the Trafalgar, he liked the fact that not only was the Lord Nelson restored to the original Victorian decor, there was no music. It was a pub for meeting friends and having a drink. Standing at the urinal he was conscious of being joined by another man at the urinal next-door to him. Keeping to the conventional protocol of not looking over to another man standing there urinating, Peter was surprised when he heard the young man say in a soft Northern Irish accent, ‘You’re the barrister Peter Hurst aren’t you?’

Looking over he saw a smartly dressed man in a light blue and white shirt opened at the collar with spiked gelled hair. Estimating him to be in his early twenties, Peter quickly started to look at the wall in front of him as he said, ‘I am. Do I know you?’

‘You represented a mate of mine a few years back.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Peter said zipping up his flies while making his way to the wash basin, ‘I don’t remember you.’

‘I suppose you wouldn’t. I sat at the back of the court with his family. I’ve got to say you’re good.’

Rinsing his hands, Peter said, ‘Thank you.’

Buttoning up his flies, the young man turned round, ‘I suppose you get well paid for what you do? Are you on your own?’

Feeling uncomfortable at the way he spoke, grabbing a paper towel Peter furiously started drying his hands. Avoiding eye contact, he started to walk out of the gentleman’s toilet, ‘It may seem a lot to most people but for the work I have to do it doesn’t seem enough at times.’ Throwing the used towel into the waste bin, Peter quickly made his way out of the toilet and joined his brother and Steve.

‘You look a little flushed there Peter!’ Steve said passing him his drink.

‘I think I was getting chatted up in the gents,’ Peter said sheepishly.

Both officers starting laughing, and David said, ‘I always said you were the prettier of the two of us. Who was it?’

‘He’s still in the toilets. That’s the trouble with some of the pubs round here, just because they think you’ve got a few bob the occasional rent boy comes in here trying to tap you up,’ Peter said picking up his drink, ‘Let’s drink up and go for something to eat.’

*     *     *

‘The pictures Sean sent us were right. That was Peter Hurst who went to the toilet. He must be with his brother and the other peeler, Adams. He’s gone back into the bar, see where he sits,’ the young Irishman said on his mobile to his friend while still in the gents’ toilets of the Lord Nelson pub.

‘I see him now and the two men he’s with fit with Sean’s description of the peelers he’s after. I’ll tell Patsy to join you and the two of you can walk out of the pub together. I’ll keep an eye on Hurst.’

Chapter Eleven
Warwick Lane,
London,
Tuesday, 3
rd
July, 18.35 hours
 

Walking out of the Lord Nelson pub Steve said to Peter Hurst, ‘You don’t look that gay. I wonder why he picked you out?’

As David passed Steve a cigarette, Peter said, ‘You don’t have to look gay. Some of the rent boys know that a few in my profession have gay tendencies and knowing we work long hours, they see us as an easy pick up as well as an easy way to make some money.’

As the three men were walking down Warwick Lane towards Blackfriars tube station, Steve said, ‘I went to the bog in there and I didn’t get chatted up.’

David started laughing, saying, ‘Not only are you an ugly fucker, you’re too butch for them!’

Handing his lighter to David, Steve said, ‘At least I know I’m God’s gift to women, not just think I am like you do. Where are you taking us to eat Peter?’

‘You said you fancy Chinese,’ Peter said, ‘I know a good one in the Kings Road. We can get the tube at Blackfriars, it won’t take us long to get there.’

‘I’m starving,’ David said, ‘and I could do with a few beers after that.’

‘Just like you didn’t have at my do last Saturday. I know you and Debbie were being careful because you saw that Sean McCrossan and it was a reason why you didn’t drink anything on Saturday,’ Peter said, ‘that reminds me I’ve got some information you might find useful, that rent boy chatting me up distracted me. I was talking to a colleague this morning in the barristers’ robe rooms in court. That’s why I called you earlier.’

Stood at the kerbside waiting for the traffic to clear so they could cross the road, David said, ‘Come on, get to the point.’

Stepping off the pavement, Peter said, ‘You’re so fucking impatient at times. You know me and Felicity want an extension to the house, I was mentioning this when he said he knew a good builder, adding it would have to be cash in hand job. We got talking and he said the builder he used was Sean McCrossan. It might be a different McCrossan to the one you’re after, but he did say he was from Ireland. I thought how that was a bit too much of coincidence, as he only had the work done a couple of weeks ago.’

‘You’re kidding,’ David said.

‘No, I couldn’t believe my ears. So I got talking about how reliable he found McCrossan, you know that sort of thing. He told me that McCrossan went on about how he’d done building work for a few lawyers, even a judge. You’ll never guess who the judge was McCrossan had done work for?’

‘Who,’ Steve asked.

‘Only your DI’s father-in-law, Alan Trevelyan.’

‘Fuck me!’ David exclaimed.

‘I don’t know if this links in with what you’re investigating and I’m not soft, I know he’s the reason you’re both back in London so soon. McCrossan asked my colleague all sorts of questions about Trevelyan, like what he’s doing now, where he drinks and so on.’

‘Fuck! You’re right to be cautious,’ David said, ‘Who’s your colleague?’

‘Rupert Mercer,’ Peter said, ‘he’s a QC and senior partner in Hanover Chambers.’

As they started descending the staircase leading towards the circle line platform at Blackfriars station, Steve said, ‘Give us the address and any other contact details you have for this Rupert Mercer, we’ll need to interview him.’

‘Sure.’

‘What you’ve told us confirms information we received about Trevelyan being one of McCrossan’s targets,’ David said.

‘So you two aren’t the main ones he’s after?’

‘No, we’re just target practice according to our snout,’ Steve said, ‘we believe he’s after Trevelyan and a senior politician.’

‘I can see why Trevelyan is a target,’ Peter said, ‘he turned down McCrossan’s appeal.’

Unaware someone was following them down the steps of Blackfriars tube station, the person tailing them made a phone call. ‘That lawyer Hurst and the two Special Branch peelers are getting the tube at Blackfriars now.’

‘Stay with them,’ McCrossan said, ‘I need to know where they’re staying and who they meet up with. I’ll have them this time.’

Chapter Twelve
Euston Station,
London,
Wednesday, 4
th
July, 09.25 hours
 

Waiting at the top of platform eleven at Euston station, David looked among the passengers disembarking from the Manchester train for Debbie. As she began to walk up the slope from the platform to the station concourse, they both caught sight of each other. She waved to David as he walked down towards her. When they met he hugged her, kissing her gently on the lips. ‘I’ve missed you. Was the journey OK?’ David said picking up her bag.

‘Yes thanks. The train was busy and as I couldn’t get the quiet coach, I had to put up with the banal banter of people trying to sound important on their mobile phones. Why do they have to shout so everyone else on the carriage has to listen to what they have to say? Have you had breakfast yet?”

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