The Slowest Cut (28 page)

Flanagan shook his head sceptically. “It won’t work, Marc. He’d spot one of us a mile off, and besides, it would take forever to gain his trust.”

Craig interjected eagerly. “Unless he already knows the man.”

Flanagan sprang to his feet indignantly. “No! There’s no way we’re using a known paedophile to catch another one. It would be thrown out of court.”

Craig stared unflinchingly at him and shook his head. “I’m not talking about a paedophile. Let me explain.”

Flanagan reluctantly nodded Craig on and over the next ten minutes he set out his plan. When Craig had finished Sean Flanagan smiled and poured them both another drink.

***

As soon as his father had been killed Ryan had known who’d done it, or helped to do it at least. If it had just been his bitch step-mother who’d bought the farm, he would have put it down to the life she’d led. The fact that it was both of them narrowed it to revenge. It couldn’t have been a kid so it had to have been someone older, someone they’d fucked-up at Marcheson’s. Anyone who’d reached the Newcastle house would never have lived long enough. But most of the kids at Marcheson’s school had been overseas students who’d gone back home. That only left two possibilities; his baby brother and the little bitch who’d disappeared from the school in the move.

Women were all bitches to him. Powerful and powerless in equal measure, but with the ability to fuck with a man’s head like no-one else. That was why he preferred kids. Eileen had been the supreme bitch. She’d taken the cipher that was his father and imprinted her will on him like a hallmark from the first day they’d met. Ian Carragher been a man without personality, shaped by whatever woman he happened to wed. His mother Marianne had been as good a woman as Eileen Burns had been bad, and his Dad had just followed behind them like their slave, doing good or evil, as he was told.

Ryan laughed as the phrase ‘lack of moral fibre’ popped into his head. It had such a World War Two ring to it, but it described his father perfectly. Whereas he had far too much fibre, and all of it immoral. He laughed again, entertained by his own wit. But what about Jonathan? Poor motherless baby, but every inch his mother’s son. Never angry, never cruel, Marianne through and through. Ryan thought for a moment then realised something. Jonathan could never have killed their father, or certainly not alone; he had to have had an accomplice.

When authors write phrases like ‘everything became clear’ or ‘realisation dawned’, it really doesn’t do justice to the facts. Sometimes realisation slipped slowly through the barrier between the subconscious and conscious while you were asleep, and sometimes it crept up behind you and tapped you gently on the back. But at other times it clouted you on the head with a bloody great thump, and this was one of those times. The thump that hit Ryan Carragher was so hard that he wanted to give himself another one, just for being so thick! Of course… The girl the police had shown him! Tian Liu’s double. How could he have missed it?

When he’d joked with the cops that she’d looked like Tian Liu’s love-child he’d been right on the mark! He’d heard Eileen shouting at his father just before Tian Liu left for Hong Kong, but he’d been a teenage boy so he’d ignored it as boring adult stuff. When the Chinese girl had appeared at Marcheson’s on one of his annual trips home, he hadn’t given her a second glance, assuming that her parents were overseas. But now it made sense… She’d been Tian Liu’s bastard. His father’s bastard too. Now she was all grown up and working with his baby bro to get revenge. She was the bitch who’d escaped. Well, well… They’d done him a favour, killing four birds with one stone and making themselves into fugitives. Now he’d inherit the whole estate.

It wasn’t long after his clout on the head that Ryan Carragher phoned his baby brother and told him that he knew he and an accomplice had killed their Dad, but not that he knew the accomplice was the girl. As long as they left the country he didn’t care who his brother screwed. Two hours of talk and persuasion later and Ryan had worked out what to do. Jonathan and his accomplice would leave the country and he would organise their trip. He would inherit everything and the murder trail would go cold. Then he could get back to doing what he was good at, with the children that he loved.

***

The C.C.U. Tuesday. 10 a.m.

“OK. Here’s what we’re doing.”

Craig scanned the faces in front of him, knowing that what he was about to say would shock them all. All except Aidan Hughes who was drinking his coffee and looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I met with the C.C. last night. He’s on board with our two pronged approach; pursue the murderers and help crack the paedophile ring. Davy’s already been onto Interpol on the electronic side of the investigation. Davy, can you update us on that?”

Davy was staring at something on the ground and everyone’s eyes followed his gaze. He was gazing at his feet with something approaching awe and they could see why. Instead of his usual heavy boots he was wearing new shoes. They were black lace-ups with narrow toes and smooth leather, not unlike Craig’s own. They were very stylish and Jake was the first to say so.

“Cool shoes. Where’d you get them?”

Before Davy could launch into a fashion report, Liam kicked him with his size thirteen.

“Get on with it lad or we’ll be here all day.”

Davy did as he was told. “I’ve been onto Interpol, The Met, Manchester and a couple of the other English forces, also, some in S…Scotland and Wales. As you know, they believe that there’s a paedophile ring operating out of Beirut. Interpol have a man undercover there and he says that a lot of the deals and arrangements are being done on the internet. In a chat room on the Dark W…Web. There are branches of the ring all over Europe, including the UK.” He pulled a face. “Apparently Northern Ireland has one of the biggest. I’m digging into that s…side of things.”

Craig picked up the reporting.

“Ryan Carragher is their man in Northern Ireland. According to what Davy’s gleaned from the internet chatter, he’s definitely the ring’s organiser here. So he’s the main focus of our joint operation. Davy’s going to be into Carragher’s phones, computers, even in his house, without him knowing.” He turned to Jake. “That’s partly where you come in, Jake. Jake’s leading on the physical surveillance of Carragher, but he’ll also be coordinating external listening devices with the surveillance team.”

Liam cut in. “Here, can’t we get a warrant to bug his place?”

“I’m working on that, Liam, but even if we do bug it there’s a risk of him finding the bugs and that would blow everything.” Craig scanned their faces gravely. “I can’t emphasise how important it is that Ryan Carragher knows nothing about this. He can’t know he’s under suspicion or surveillance, or it will blow the operation and the paedophile ring here will go underground and be lost for years. Is that understood?”

There was a series of nods and Craig turned back to Liam. “The judge wasn’t keen to give us a warrant to access Carragher’s phone records, or remotely log-in to his computer. We managed it, but I think asking to bug the house as well would be pushing our luck.”

Annette looked thoughtful.

“What’s on your mind, Annette?”

“Well…It’s just…isn’t this going to distract us from the murders? I mean, that’s our main remit really.”

Craig smiled at her straightforward approach to life. “It is indeed and I’ll come to that in a moment. OK. Davy’s on the internet side, Liam’s working with Aidan, as well as Jake supporting them on surveillance. I wouldn’t be surprised if that turned something up on our murder cases. Jonathan Carragher’s only living relative is Ryan. If Jonathan comes up for air he’s going to contact him.”

Annette nodded, starting to see the links.

“We’re also awaiting a truck load of forensics from Des on both cases, don’t forget. Going back to Ryan Carragher for a minute. Obviously Aidan’s team are plugged into networks all across the region, and they’re putting out feelers on possible paedophiles, but they’ll also be running a sting operation with us. Liam, I want you to help with that.”

Liam sat forward eagerly, rubbing his hands. “A sting? Great stuff. We used to run those in the old days. They were good craic.”

Craig laughed. “That’s one word for it. OK. You all know that Aidan and I interviewed Edgar Tate. He hosted the BDSM party at which we found Aurelie.”

Annette gave Craig a confused look. “Is Tate a paedophile?”

“No. That’s exactly it, Annette, he isn’t. We’ve got him on drugs and prostitution charges, but there’s no hint that he’s into kids.”

“So what use is he, boss?”

Craig continued patiently. “Bear with me, both of you, and let me explain. We can’t use a convicted paedophile in the sting, or they’d make sushi out of us in court. But neither can we use a police officer. They would be spotted mile off, as would anyone completely new to the world of Vice. Ryan Carragher would be suspicious immediately. He’s not stupid or he wouldn’t have stayed out of jail this long.”

Realisation dawned on Davy first. “You’re going to use Tate, chief. Excellent move.”

Craig smiled. “I’m glad you approve, Davy. I was even more pleased when the C.C. OK-ed the plan last night. He took a bit of persuading and we were a few whiskies in when he said yes, but he hasn’t retracted permission this morning so I think we’re good to go.”

Liam puffed out his cheeks in thought before he spoke. “So, let me get this straight. Ryan Carragher knows Tate from the parties, OK. But Tate’s only ever been interested in sex with adults.”

“Until now.”

“OK. So you think he can persuade Carragher that he’s suddenly interested in kiddies? Are you sure, boss?”

Craig sighed, not at the question, but at the idea that he wouldn’t already have covered every base. He was about to say something sharp but he bit his tongue. Liam was only asking the questions the C.C. had asked the night before and he deserved an answer.

“It’s a fair question, Liam. OK. Edgar Tate may not have expressed a liking for kids, and he denies he knew anything about the girl being brought to the party, but neither has he ever voiced open disapproval of Ryan Carragher’s pastime in any way. On the negative side, Tate’s a scum-ball who likes the younger prostitutes, late teens preferably. But, on the plus side, the fact Tate’s been quite open about his preference for teenagers, doesn’t make it such a stretch for Carragher to believe that he might be tempted into sex with even younger girls. Reasonable doubt, that’s all we need. If we can make Carragher believe Tate is tempted, we might have our way in.”

Hughes unfolded his arms and joined in. “You see Liam, perverts like to believe that we’re all secretly perverts.”

Liam guffawed. “I bet that’s not the politically correct terminology, Aidan.”

“Whatever it is, it’s true. Tate is filth, but so far he’s kept it legal age-wise. Carragher will always be looking for business, and he’s like all of them, they need to believe that they’re the normal ones, not us. So the more people they suck into their sick little world, the merrier. If I didn’t think this would work, I’d say so, but I think it will.”

Liam nodded, conceding that Craig was right. “What’s Tate getting for his cooperation, boss?”

“Suspended sentence with no jail time, for allowing prostitution and drug use to take place in his house. Oh, and a sense of doing his civic duty.”

Craig said the last words so sarcastically that everyone laughed.

“OK, so Liam will be helping Aidan out with that side. Tate will be wearing a wire when he meets Ryan Carragher and Davy will pick up on the recording side with Jake…”

Davy cut in eagerly. “Does that mean I can actually go out in the surveillance van?”

Craig thought for a minute then glanced at Aidan and Jake. They nodded and Craig turned back to Davy with a warning in his eyes. “Only when Tate is meeting Carragher. And you’re a civilian so you’ll wear whatever protection D.C.I. Hughes tells you to wear and stay in the van. Is that understood, Davy? The last thing I need is Nicky throttling me if you get hurt.”

Davy smiled across at Nicky, his self-appointed ‘office mum’ then he gave Craig a small salute.

Craig threw him a wry look and continued. “Meanwhile Annette and I will be concentrating on the murders.” He glanced at her. “Are you OK with that, Annette?”

She nodded vigorously. “More than OK. The farther away I stay from Vice, the happier I’ll be.”

Aidan grinned and Liam said what they’d both just thought. “Now, that’s not what we heard …”

Annette’s blushes and the ensuing banter declared the meeting well and truly closed.

***

Edgar Tate swallowed hard and then made the call; the prospect of ten years in Maghaberry on drugs and prostitution charges had focussed his mind like nothing else could. The phone at the other end cut to answerphone and Ryan Carragher’s voice came on the line, suggesting that he leave a message. Tate’s eyes widened in panic and he mouthed at Aidan Hughes, pleading to be told what to do. Hughes answer was clear; hang up. When Tate had cut the call Hughes gave him new instructions.

“OK. This time if the answerphone kicks in, say your name and that you want Ryan to call you back on your mobile. If he answers you already have your script.”

Tate glanced at the sheet of paper in his hand. It was a flow chart giving him the options of where to steer the conversation, for each question that Ryan Carragher might raise. Someone had done their homework. Tate didn’t know that Vice had run this conversation before with a thousand different targets.

Hughes nodded at him to dial again and just at that moment Tate’s mobile rang. His panicked look said that it was Carragher. He must have seen Tate’s number and was phoning him back.

Tate stared at his vibrating handset and Hughes hissed loudly. “Answer it.” Then he adjusted his earphones to make sure he caught every word.

Tate swallowed hard and answered the call, adopting his usual tone of voice. “Hello, Ryan. Thanks for calling back.”

There was no sign of Tate’s earlier panic. Not bad. They had a natural liar on their hands. No doubt he’d got plenty of practice negotiating building contracts. Ryan Carragher’s voice came through loud and clear and Hughes gave the recording technician a thumbs-up.