A Real Job (49 page)

‘That’s the Irish in you coming out Hurst,’ Maguire said after seeing Eastgate Street had been blocked off and the immediate area around the solicitors’ office had been cleared. Seeing armed officers armed with automatic rifles standing across the road by the Grosvenor Hotel, Maguire knew the chances of him getting out were limited. Watching the crowds outside the office being shepherded away from the area, he knew Hurst was right. He was cornered. There was no way out alive unless he surrendered to the DS. ‘You’ve more blarney in you than a full blooded Irishman.’

Ignoring Maguire’s taunts, David said, ‘Another way of looking at it is if we kill you, we’ll save the British state a lot of money. There’ll be no need for a trial. If you walk out with me, you’ll end up costing the British state millions. They’ll have to look after you. Plead not guilty and you’ll incur an expensive trial wasting the British taxpayers’ money. You know as well as I do your trial will be high profile. It’ll attract experienced and expensive defence barristers. Just their fees alone will end up costing the state a fortune. Lying back on your Category A cell bunk, you can smile knowing you cost the British Government millions.’

‘You’re a fucking bull-shitter Hurst. I take it asking for a pizza’s out of the question while I think about it?’

David gave a wry smile. ‘Jimmy we’re well used to this game. You know we’ve got all of the aces. The only choice you’ve got is whether you come out in a body bag or in handcuffs with me.’

‘What’s stopping you putting me in a van, driving me to some remote spot in the countryside and killing me?’

‘Those days are over Jimmy. All this is being recorded. I’d never get away with it.’

‘But you’d like to kill me wouldn’t you?’

‘The thought’s crossed my mind. So what’s it going to be? Are you leaving in a body bag or in handcuffs with me?’ David said.

‘Give me a minute to think about it,’ Maguire shouted back. The whole office complex went eerily silent as Maguire mulled over what David said. In the silence time dragged. Sensing the tension increasing among the firearms officers, David raised his index finger to his mouth to emphasise they were to remain silent. Breaking the silence, Maguire shouted out, ‘Are you still there Hurst?’

‘I’m still here Jimmy.’

‘I was told you’re half Irish as your Ma’s Irish and that you’re a good Catholic boy. Is that right?’

‘That’s right Jimmy.’

‘How the fuck did you end up being a traitor joining the security forces and fighting for the British?’

‘It didn’t start that way Jimmy. I joined the police to be a dog handler, but then one thing led to another and I ended up in the Branch.’

‘Yeah, like shooting my old mates that were fighting for the cause. The Brits have turned you Hurst. Seeing how you’re half Irish and a Catholic, that tells me deep down there must be half a decent man inside you. I’ll come out, but I only want you to interview me, no MI5 bastards. No torture. No tricks. No games. Is that fucking understood? I warn you now, one fucking wrong move and you’re a dead man.’

There was a tangible sense of relief among the firearms officers the Irishman was surrendering as David said, ‘I understand Jimmy. Now take your instructions from the firearms officers. They’ll ask you to stay where you are. Then they’ll search you and I’ll be waiting for you at the back door. I’ll take you to the police station, not them.’

‘I’ll do as they say, but remember Hurst, you break your promise and you’re a dead man.’

Chapter Thirty-Nine
Custody Office, Deva
Road
Police Station, Chester,
13.25 hours, Tuesday, 9
th
July
 

Accompanied by Steve Adams, David Hurst escorted the handcuffed Maguire into the custody office at Deva Road Police station. George Byrne was already waiting for them at the custody suite. David related the circumstances of the arrest of four counts of murder, attempted murder and acts of terrorism to the custody officer, who accepted the arrest and authorised Maguire’s detention.

‘Come on you two,’ George said, ‘let’s go into this side room while they book Maguire in.’ After entering the side room, George shut the door behind them and said, ‘You did well bringing him in. The firearms inspector loved the way you cut through the bullshit giving him one of two options of either leaving in a body bag or in handcuffs.’

‘I thought I’d give him the only two realistic options open to him,’ David said sitting down by a small table.

Steve started to laugh, and said, ‘I was also impressed with Maguire who recognised you could bullshit for Britain. What was all that crap about inspiring younger ones back in Ireland to follow his example and that stuff about him coming out alive and having a trial costing the British state millions of pounds?’

‘It worked didn’t it?’ David said.

‘It certainly did,’ George said placing his hand on David’s shoulder reinforcing his approval of his DS. ‘The superintendent here at Deva Road is authorising a delay to Maguire’s legal advice on the grounds it’s necessary to prevent physical injury to others. When I told him Prince William was amongst those who could be injured, he had no hesitation in agreeing to the authorisation. I’ve asked that once he’s been booked in, Maguire be taken straight to an interview room as I need you two to get into him straight away on the whereabouts of Mahoney. I know it’s unlikely he’ll talk, but we’ve got give it a try.’

‘I don’t know. He might talk,’ said Steve, ‘being half Irish, Maguire’s bosom buddies with David.’

‘Don’t knock it Steve, it could be just the in we need,’ David said.

‘Anything else of note happen on while we were dealing with Maguire?’ David asked George.

‘No, only my father-in-law’s been harassing me the past couple of hours.’

‘Is Alan here?’ David asked.

‘Yes, he arrived in Chester around ten this morning. I got one of the Branch officers to meet him and the MI5 officers protecting him. He’s asking after you and wants you to be his personal protection. I told him you were engaged on an enquiry.’

‘If we finish with Maguire this afternoon, I’ll look after Alan this evening if you think it’ll keep him from pestering you all the time,’ David suggested to his DI.

George thought for a moment and then said, ‘After you interview Maguire, I wanted you and Steve to go out and help with the search for Mahoney.’

‘Let David look after your father-in-law. One less out there looking for Mahoney isn’t going to make much difference if it means you get a quiet life George,’ Steve said, ‘I can work with one of Ray’s team or one of the Cheshire teams.’

*     *     *

Having no idea what had happened to his compatriot, Mahoney was still hiding in the cramped, concealed compartment of the disused canal boat. Looking at his watch, he saw it was a quarter to two in the afternoon. Opening his holdall, he took out the agency catering uniform McCullagh provided him with a few days earlier. Once again, he checked the ID card and pass for the reception at the Grosvenor were safely in the uniform jacket. Having managed to dye his hair blonde while staying at the safe-house in Winsford the previous Friday, McCullagh arranged for his photograph to be taken for the false ID card. Finally, out of the holdall he took the spectacles fitted with clear glass lenses supplied by McCullagh. No matter how much his appearance had changed, having his photograph emblazoned in the newspaper and the television over the last couple of days, albeit an old picture, he dreaded someone seeing through the disguise and recognising him. Once he was ready, he checked his bag once more to make sure all the equipment he needed was present.

Mahoney looked through one of the still intact, dirty windows on the boat to see if there was anyone walking along the towpath. There was no one nearby. Pulling the door to the barge open, he made one last cursory check. As it was clear, he stepped onto the towpath. Walking as calmly as he could, his legs feeling stiff having been cooped up in the boat for so long, he made his way along the towpath to the steps of the bridge across a road leading into Chester city centre, which he walked along out of the city centre to where the catering company was located.

Surprised to see so many people flocking into the city, he realised they were getting in early to claim the best spot to get a glimpse of Prince William when he arrived at the hotel. Suppressing a smile, he thought how the waiting crowd would add to the body count of his handiwork. Knowing a firework display was planned for later that evening, he thought how there really would be unexpected fireworks igniting later. Still self-conscious about his change of appearance, he could not help but feel these people were looking at him. Seeing a black hackney cab with its yellow ‘for hire’ sign displayed, he hailed the cab to stop. Pulling up abruptly, a couple of feet away from him, Mahoney got into it. He gave the driver his destination in a Liverpool accent he developed from members of his English family living in the city. As he visited the city on many occasions to see his uncle and four cousins, having made fun by mimicking the way they speak, it was a convincing accent. ‘Henderson’s Caterers in Delabole Street by the industrial estate please.’

To get into role and practice, he was fortunate to have a talkative taxi driver. ‘Have you got to work today while Prince William visits the city?’ the taxi driver asked.

‘Well someone has to.’

‘You’re not local. From that accent of yours, I see you’re a Scouser.’

‘I live in Kirkdale. I normally work at the Liverpool branch, but along with some of my other workmates, I’ve come up to help out with the catering for the reception tonight.’

‘The one at the Grosvenor?”

‘That’s the one. I got the train up.’

‘Did you get a bit lost? Delabole Street’s only a few hundred yards from the station,’ the taxi driver asked, puzzled why his passenger had wandered so far into the city from the station.

‘No, I got in early, so I thought I’d get a coffee and read the paper. You know, have an hour to myself before I get run off my feet,’ Mahoney replied, thinking quickly.

‘As I suppose you’ll be busy tonight, I don’t blame you having a bit of time to yourself. Are you one of the chefs?’

‘No, I’m a driver for the company. I transport the food and that. A lot of the food’s prepared off site and then we deliver it to the kitchens and the cooks finish it off. That posh lot think it’s all cooked in the premises from scratch, but it’s not.’

‘I know there’s going to be a couple of hundred attending that function tonight. I can see why the hotel’s gone for outside catering help. Here we are. That’s four pound forty please,’ the taxi driver said pulling up outside the caterers.

Mahoney took a five-pound note out of his wallet. Handing it to the taxi driver, he said, ‘Thanks mate. Keep the change.’ Getting out of the taxi he approached Henderson’s entrance feeling more confident. Walking through the main entrance gates to the caterers, his only fear was coming into contact with employees from the Liverpool Henderson’s depot that might not recognise him and question who he was. To avoid that, he arrived earlier than the time they were scheduled to arrive in the hope he would be given a van and no one would ask any awkward questions. At the security office, Mahoney showed his false ID card to the security officer at the reception. The grey haired, elderly security guard studied the ID while looking Mahoney up and down. ‘You’re from the Liverpool branch? You’re keen. You’re the first one to arrive,’ the guard said handing Mahoney the ID card back. Pointing to his right, he said, ‘Just go down to the corridor here on the right and take the second door on your left. The drivers’ gaffer is in there. He’ll give you your instructions. Do you know your way around Chester?’

‘Yes, I’ve been here loads of times,’ Mahoney said picking up his holdall. Surprised the guard did not want to look inside it, especially as he would be going to and from the hotel where the heir to the British throne would be visiting, he began to walk off. That thought was broken by the guard shouting after him, asking him what he had in his bag. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. Mahoney turned round and said, ‘A few pounds of plastic explosive, a couple of detonators and me sandwiches.’

‘Very funny,’ the guard shouted back.

Walking down the corridor away from the security guard, he smiled and thought to himself, ‘He asked the question and I answered truthfully. Well not quite truthfully, there’s no sandwiches.’

‘And another thing,’ the guard shouted down the corridor to Mahoney, ‘Knowing what you thieving Scousers are like I don’t want you stealing the food. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.’

Mahoney said nothing,. He did not even acknowledge the guard’s last comment as he thought, ‘Jesus I should have told him I was IRA rather pretend to be from Liverpool. They hate them around here just as much us.’

*     *     *

In an interview room at Deva Road police station, David and Steve had been interviewing Maguire under the superintendent’s authority, without his solicitor present for nearly twenty minutes. Throughout the interview Maguire stayed silent. He only spoke once saying, ‘I’m saying nothing until I’ve seen my solicitor’ when David asked Maguire to confirm his name at the beginning of the interview. The questioning went as both David and Steve had expected. Staring at the floor all the time he was asked questions, Maguire literally said nothing. Once more David asked, ‘Jimmy, what is David Mahoney’s role in your operation?’

Sensing Hurst was getting desperate, Maguire decided to play mind games. As David continued to ask questions, he stopped looking at the floor and stared into David’s eyes.

‘In the solicitors’ office, you said you’d trust me. It would help your cause if you told me where Mahoney is and what his role is for tonight.’

Maguire momentarily grinned at David. Deciding to look through the papers in front of him, David was caught unawares as Maguire said, ‘Do you think I was born yesterday? I’ve murdered four people. I’m in the Real IRA. You’ll get no help from me. I’m no tout like Jimmy.’ As he spoke, Maguire imagined how different this interview would have been if his comrades had kidnapped and killed his sister.