‘Shit — pinch me,’ Donaldson breathed once they had cleared the room. ‘He doesn’t want to put me under pressure? Is the man mad? Jeez, I did not say that. The President of the United States is not mad, understand, not mad. Guys, did that really just happen?’
They stopped at the top of a flight of stairs.
‘Yes it did,’ Kramer said cruelly. His veneer of pleasantness so beloved by the public and the media had vanished. Underneath was the harsh, ruthless man with massive ambition. ‘And, let me make this clear on behalf of the prime minister that just because he did not come out and state that the pressure is on all of you, it is. ACC, I expect to be kept fully informed of all developments as I will be briefing the PM regularly.’
FB nodded unhappily. He did not seem to like Kramer as much as he had done forty-eight hours earlier. FB led them down the steps, Henry being the last in line. Before he could step down, Kramer took hold of his arm. ‘Chat, please, inspector, if you don’t mind.’ Kramer’s eyes were grey, tinged with steel, laced with snake venom.
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘We all have choices.’ He steered Henry across the corridor and drew him into a room, very similar to the prime minister’s.
‘What’s this? The big warning?’
‘You could say that.’ Kramer’s voice reflected the message in his eyes. ‘I hope you have no ambition left in your job, Inspector. Because if you do, you’ve just fucked it up by laying your hand on me. Nobody denies me, Inspector, not in any aspect of my life, least of all a low-ranking dickhead like you — no one.’
‘Your ambitions must be rather warped then, if you can only achieve them by intimidation.’ Henry sniffed.
Kramer raised a hand to strike Henry in a flash of violent temper. Henry did not flinch. The hand remained raised, ready to strike.
‘If you hit me,’ Henry said, ‘I promise your reputation will never recover.’
‘It would be my word against the word of a police officer who had a past which, to say the least, is littered with complaints, violence and mental instability — who do you think would be believed?’
‘It seems I have nothing to worry about, then, does it? As I have no job prospects, which is what you intimate.’ Henry smiled dangerously. ‘But I’ll leave it at this: if you lay one uninvited finger on Andrea Makin again, I’ll have you. Above board and bang to rights — promise.’
‘What’s this then?’ FB said scornfully, a trace of jealousy as Henry joined them in the hotel foyer. ‘Hob-nobbing with government spin doctors?’
‘That’s me, sir, a real high-flyer, but now I’m back to earth with a bump and I’d like to get on with the job I get paid for.’ Henry’s tone brokered no argument, even from FB, who sensed something not quite right.
‘Good,’ said FB. ‘And remember,’ he looked around at all three with a wicked grin, ‘no pressure, absolutely no pressure.’
Twenty
Henry and Donaldson drove in a CID car to South Shore and onto Winston Road where Joey’s flat was situated. They prowled slowly up the street looking out for signs of life in houses or flats with the intention of disturbing the occupants to ascertain if anyone knew of a ‘military type’ in the area.
Unusually for Blackpool, a town close to operating twenty-four hours a day, there was only one light to be seen in the whole street and no one responded to the knocking of the two law enforcement officers.
‘Damn,’ Donaldson said.
They were standing on the front steps of the house with the light on. Their breath steamed in the cold night air and they rubbed their hands to keep warm while they chatted.
‘Already this is beginning to frustrate the hell out of me,’ Donaldson complained. ‘Everything is, like, coming into it so halfway.’ He turned to Henry and with a pleading tone said, ‘How do I catch a bomber who has evaded the FBI for the last six years, despite all those resources being thrown at him? Who’s to say he’s still here anyway? He might have done his job and gone by now. I have absolutely no leads to go on here.’
‘We could start with lodgings, rented property, I suppose,’ Henry thought out loud. ‘Where would a guy like that stay?’
Donaldson pondered. ‘Somewhere quiet where he could work, assemble his devices, somewhere he’s unlikely to be disturbed. So, not a hotel — maybe a rented cottage in the sticks?’
‘We can get that rolling in the morning, get someone to contact all local letting companies to start with, then expand it as necessary.’
Just for the hell of it, Henry whacked the door once more. As he turned he saw a Neighbourhood Watch sticker in the corner of the window. That reminded him of something he had not done. He still got no answer at the door, though.
‘But you’re right, pal,’ he said to Donaldson. They trotted back towards the CID car. ‘We’ve come into this whole thing part way. We need a good new starting point.’
Henry opened the driver’s door, dropped in and started the engine, flicking the heater on to full. A frustrated Donaldson plonked miserably down next to him and turned the heater down. ‘I can’t believe it. Just my luck, the president telling me to get a result on a job I don’t have an earthly chance of solving, as much as I personally want to nail the bastard.’
They sat in the car. Above them, the sky was beginning to lighten, becoming less black as the first hint of dawn crept in. Each man was deep in thought at how best to unravel the whole mess.
Simultaneously, their heads swivelled. They looked at each other jubilantly.
‘We need to go right back to the beginning of all this,’ Henry said.
‘Yeah.’
‘We need to go and rattle a cage or two, poke some sticks at the wild animals therein. We need to get to grips with Hellfire Dawn, for cryin’ out loud. I even said it to the PM, maybe not in so many words, but that’s it — we get into their ribs, find their weak link and snap it.’ Henry tried to twist the steering wheel as he spoke.
‘Great minds think alike.’
‘Let’s do it, then,’ Henry said enthusiastically.
Henry held out his hand. Donaldson shook it.
Moments later they were en route back to the police station having been called back urgently by Andrea Makin.
Makin was at the door of the communications room, a message pad in her hand. She had circulated details of Joey’s murder to all forces, asking if anyone had anything similar on their patch recently. Because of the time of day she had not realistically expected anything back before mid-morning.
Two forces had surprised her. Surrey had responded that they had something similar about six months before but would be unable to give further details until later in the day. Cheshire police gave an even better response. A sleepy control room inspector at their Chester headquarters, on reading the message had immediately recognised the similarity with a double murder in Wilmslow which his son, a thirty-year-old detective inspector, was investigating.
‘This is a possibility,’ Makin said, handing the message to Henry. ‘Three weeks ago in Cheshire.’ Henry read it, absorbed it, passed it on to Donaldson.
‘Let’s call the DI now,’ Henry said, noting the time with a wry smile. It was one of the drawbacks of being a detective inspector — telephone calls at unsociable hours. Tough, he thought, picking up a telephone and dialling the number on the message switch. ‘Heard from your undercover man yet?’ he asked Makin. She shook her head. The phone started to ring and was answered almost immediately and brightly despite the time of day. Once the apologies and introductions had been made the business began. Henry stuck a hand over his ear to cut out the background noise of the communications room and also because there was still a ringing noise in his head from the bomb blast earlier. He cradled the phone between shoulder and jaw and scribbled notes as he talked.