‘Bill… Um… Billy… Billy Thompson. But call me Bill’
‘Thank you Bill. I’m going to ask you some questions about the events of today. Are you happy to answer these questions for me?’
‘Yeah, ‘course I am. Anything to ‘elp.’
‘Thank you Bill. Are you aware of the events in Soho today?’
‘Not really, no. You see, I ain’t got no ‘ouse, so I ain’t got a telly. Makes it ‘ard to keep up with current affairs.’
Sniggers in the operations room were silenced by a famous Virani hand gesture.
‘But you’re aware of an explosion in Soho earlier today?’
‘Yeah, the old ‘omeless grapevine was full of that one. I had a lucky escape, as it ‘appens.’
‘How so, Bill? Were you there?’
‘Yeah, just doing the pub rounds, you know, looking for leftover drinks, forgotten fags. Speaking of which, do you mind if I have one? A drop of the Vodka would go down a treat, keep the chill off.’
‘Certainly Bill, I’ll get you a cigarette. As for the chill, well it’s the middle of summer, so I don’t think you’re too cold, but I’ll get you a drink anyway.’
‘Fanks mate. When you get to my age, and live on the streets, you never quite feel warm enough, no matter what time of year it is.’
Virani looked at Nick, eyebrows raised. Nick paused the recording.
‘So do we think he’s really a tramp, Nick?’ She asked.
‘I’d say so, he comes across in such a genuine manner that he’d be Oscar nominated if he’s bullshitting.’
‘Okay, carry on.’ She instructed.
Upex pressed Play.
‘So you were in Soho. Where were you heading?’
The sound of a lighter wheel being rotated, the lighter fuel igniting, the first inhalation of a cigarette. Then Bill started coughing. He managed to regain control of himself before continuing.
‘The John Snow. Usually good for an unfinished pint or two. Punters sometimes forget they put their fags or baccy on the window-ledge. Easy pickings for me. And as it’s right on the street, a public footpath, they can’t move me on without a bit of a struggle. Not that I ever would cause any grief, of course.’
Virani signalled for the recording to be paused again.
‘Neil, I want you to take a photo of our new best friend Billy to The John Snow. I believe the current proprietors went unscathed and are now back there, shame the pub itself didn’t do so well.
‘Ask if they know of Billy. See if his story holds water. If he’s there a lot, they’ll know who he is. Especially if he’s been a bit of a problem for them. Which, by his own admission, he has.’
Neil Barford, a middle-aged fitness fanatic stood to leave.
‘Get a car sorted Neil, I believe Alasdair is at our beck and call today.’
‘Don’t worry, Jay, I’ll take my bike. It’ll be quicker.’
Jay nodded her approval.
‘Well, be careful. The road’s full of maniacs like Alasdair. Right, Nick, lets carry on.’
Play was pressed again. Nick’s voice echoed around the Operations Room.
‘And did anything unusual happen while you were there?’
‘Well when I was walking down from Oxford Street, on the corner of… oh what’s it called Ber… Ber.’
‘Berwick Street?’ Nick interjected.
‘Yeah, Berwick street. Well I got to the corner of Berwick Street and the street that the pub’s on.’
‘Broadwick Street.’ Nick proffered.
‘Yeah, that’s the one. Well this bloke comes up to me. He was a big fella, I mean big. Gave me hundred quid.’
‘What was that for, Bill?’
‘Nuffin’ really, just to put some rubbish in the bin. Told me not to bother looking in the bag, there wasn’t anything to eat, drink or smoke in it.’
‘Sorry, Bill. You were given one hundred pounds, by a stranger, to put some rubbish in the bin?’
Once more, Virani signalled a pause.
‘Sam, once we’re finished here, get back on the CCTV and see if you can find a shot of Billy with his benefactor.’
‘Sure thing, Jay.’ Replied Sam.
Virani nodded to Nick. The recording continued.
‘Didn’t you find that a bit strange, Bill? One Hundred Pounds to put a bag of rubbish in a bin which was, what, thirty metres away at most?’
‘Of course I thought it was strange, but an ‘undred quid is an ‘undred quid. Can get a lot of gin with that. I just took the money and did what I was asked.’
‘And then what?’
‘Just went about me business.’
‘Is this the first time this has happened?’
‘Well if it kept ‘appening I’d be a wealthy man by now.’
Sniggers around the room once more.
‘So just the once then.’
A silence-filled second before Nick’s voice was heard again.
‘Bill nodded his affirmation. Moving on then, Bill, can you describe the man who paid you’
‘Well, like I says, he’s a big bugger. Big as in muscled though, not fat. About forty-five, I’d say. Short hair, almost a skinhead. Bloody scary looking. If he tells you to do sumink you’d do it all right.’
‘I presume you’re getting a photo fit made up?’ Enquired Virani.
‘Details have been sent to the artist.’ Upex replied, ‘But the best is yet to come.’ He grinned, a knowing grin. The recording continued.
‘Strange tattoo. Not to my liking, anyway.’ Bill explained.
‘Please, go on.’ Upex encouraged.
‘Well it’s a devil, I think. Looks like a cartoon. But he’s crying, shaking. Looks like he’s biting his fingernails.’
Sam’s attention was piqued. Shit. I know that tatt. He thought. Bill was heard having another pull on his cigarette.
‘I was told there’d be a bite to eat and a shower if I came in and ‘elped. Any chance of that ‘appening?’
‘Of course, Bill, we won’t be much longer, then you can clean yourself up, have some dinner and be on your way.’
Nick stopped the recording.
‘Well, that’s pretty much it. He’s eating now.’ Nick said. ‘At least he’s trying to get some food in him, in between smokes.’
Sam raised his hand.
‘Yes Sam?’ Virani enquired.
‘I know this bloke, Jay.’
Sharp intakes of breath around the room. Silence followed, until Jayshree asked.
‘Socially? Professionally? Please don’t tell me he was the best man at your wedding, Sam. That could put us in a very awkward situation.
‘No, no, nothing like that. I’ve bumped into him a couple of times. In my local boozer, on the train.’
‘What, in Andover?’
‘Yes, Jay, in Andover. You know the place, about fifteen miles from Salisbury Plain. An hour by train to London.’
‘Well?’
‘Well what, Jay?’
‘Well did you get his name?’
Chapter Fifteen
‘Okay, listen up!’ Virani’s voice boomed like thunder across the operations room. The room once again fell silent.
‘Sam, I still want you on CCTV. Find an image, make sure it’s the same person. If it’s a squad tattoo, it might not be him. We need to be sure.