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Blind Faith, Chapter 2 |
| Written by Philip Neale | |
| Tuesday, 19 August 2008 | |
 With the cat now out of the bag as far as witnessing the execution was concerned, life for the Drakes was about to take a dramatic turn......
It was three days later and Brian's initial fears for their safety had reduced somewhat, when a knock at the door brought the entire incident back to life. He was faced with two men in suits and carrying warrant cards identifying them as officers of the Nottinghamshire Constabulary.
"Brian Drake?"
"That's me; what's this about?"
"I'm Detective Chief Inspector Lewis, and this is Detective Sergeant Palmer. We'd like to talk to you about an incident in Nottingham last week. May we come in please sir?"
Brian ushered the two of them into the lounge and out of the way of prying neighbours, a number of whom had ‘conveniently' found some urgent gardening to do. It was then that he noticed the blue and red lights atop the squad car had which accompanied the detectives.
"How can I help you?" Brian's pulse had started to race.
"Information has come to our attention that you made an emergency call on the Tuesday evening of the local football match. We traced it to your mobile phone sir."
Brian sat down clearly phased by the whole matter, and now aware that any denial would be pointless. His contract phone was traceable, a Pay-As-You-Go would not have been. Another variable - perhaps he should never have bothered, the man was dead anyway and was probably as much of a criminal as those who had killed him.
"Did you witness the killing, sir?" Lewis pressed home the point, seeing the uncertainty in Brian's eyes. "Sir?"
"What? Oh, it was dark and we were lost. I'm not even sure how many were involved."
"Yes you are!" Susie had chosen that moment to make her entrance, having heard the rest of the conversation. "We saw him quite clearly; he was right under that street light. You said you'd never forget that face for the rest of your life."
"Sir?" Lewis raised one eyebrow and stared into Brian's face. He capitulated.
The statement given to the two officers over the course of the next hour was detailed and clear. It was only when Brian realised that they would both have to stand up in a court of law and repeat what had been said, that a sense of foreboding permeated his entire being.
"That will mean we'll both be known to the killers. I don't know if I like the sound of that."
"Mr Drake" said Palmer "Without your testimony these thugs will walk free. Free to carry on with a reign of terror in an area of our city already crumbling under the burden of organised crime."
"We'll also need you to come to Nottingham with us in order to identify those responsible." Lewis interjected "It won't take too long and then you can return home until we need you further. You will, of course, be under police protection at all times."
"You mean a witness protection programme?" Now it was Susie's turn "Because we've heard of people in those schemes before, and they don't seem too safe to me."
"Mrs Drake" Lewis smiled "You mustn't believe too much of what you see on television police dramas. There's really nothing to worry about, and we can move the both of you to one of our safe houses if that makes you feel any better."
Lewis had a disarming smile and he knew it. Sometimes he wished that it would also work on members of the criminal fraternity but life was never that simple. Susie melted under its influence and the both of them agreed to make the short trip from Birmingham to what had become known as the gun capital of Britain. An hour and a half later they were seated in an interview room at the city's Radford Road Police Station. Palmer entered the room carrying a stack of what looked like family photograph albums. Lewis, already in the room, pushed them across the table.
"I know this might take a while, but we'd like you to take a look at some of our favourite local lads. See if anyone looks familiar, and please take your time. This could be a very important break for us."
"That's him!" Brian and Susie had turned only the first few pages each of separate books when Brian jabbed at an image on the third page with his index finger.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Lewis's voice had changed from the genial policeman to the battle-hardened cop.
"Yes, I'll never forget. I was about twenty feet away and in the shadows with a street light shining right into his face. That's him alright, I'm absolutely certain."
Palmer looked at Lewis and nodded.
"On my way boss, and I'll take an armed response unit with me."
"Who is this man?" Susie pointed at the picture, confirming the statement which Brian had made.
"Billy Steel" Lewis spat out the words as if the very sounds were distasteful to him. "Nineteen years old and the youngest member of Colin Carrington's ‘militia'. He's the son of Carrington's sister and on his way to becoming a psychopath."
"And Colin Carrington is............?" Now Brian stepped in, all the uneasy feelings beginning to return.
Lewis went on to explain Carrington's background. Having come to the city as a youngster with his family from Manchester in the 1960s, he earned himself a reputation as a hard but apparently fair businessman. With interests in the motor trade, hotels, betting shops and transport he had quickly built up a network of associates in similar trades. Having laid the foundations for what were, on the face of it, legitimate dealings his interests evolved into the more dubious areas of loan sharking and escort agencies. These in turn led his organisation into the dark and criminal world of prostitution, drugs and robbery. Nothing could ever be tied back to him of course, and there were always a number of his minions prepared to take a fall for an appropriate monetary reward. He had come to regard himself as above the law, and there were whispers that he even had a mole within the police itself. Every attempt to bring him to justice had failed. Now though, it looked as though someone very close to him may have overstepped the mark.
"So what happens now?" Brian asked nervously.
"We bring young Billy in for questioning and an identification parade. Hopefully following on from that we charge him with the murder of Mark Travis. He's the man you saw killed. Carrington's solicitor will try to get the lad released on bail but we'll oppose it and keep him on remand. Don't worry, no-one will know who you are, so you're both quite safe."
As Lewis expected it didn't take long for both Brian and Susie to independently pick Steel out of a line-up, and the youngster was charged and scheduled for the following morning's Magistrates Court sessions. Despite all of Colin Carrington's attempts, Billy was held at Lincoln Prison pending his trial five weeks hence. The Drakes returned to Birmingham now convinced that their involvement was almost at an end. Had they knowledge of a meeting on the far side of Nottingham, their feelings might have been altogether different. Colin Carrington had called a council of war, and senior figures from within his organisation were seated around a table in an upstairs room in a Hockley pub.
"I don't care what it takes, Billy's not going to trial! Alright George, before you start, I know he's a stupid young punk. Anyone else and I'd leave him to rot, but he's our Karen's lad and blood's thicker than water. I'll deal with him myself when this is all over, and he'll wish he'd never been born!"
Loyalty within the Carrington clan ran deep and even extended towards those trusted lieutenants now seated with Colin. Nobody crossed him and lived to tell the tale, and a number of bodies had been pulled from the River Trent in recent years to bear testimony to the man's determination and ruthlessness.
"Mickey!" A balding man in his forties jumped at his name being called out "Find out from our friend on the inside who this witness is. Maybe a little gentle persuasion can be applied to make our point of view appear to be the one which should prevail. Try bribery first, it's always a good place to start. We'll leave the rough stuff until later if it's required."
The smile returned to the face of Michael Benson, he'd never known Colin's ‘softly softly' approach to work before and it always gave him pleasure when it failed. There really was nothing like a bit of what you might call ‘constructive discussion' to turn the mind of a witness to your way of thinking. He'd take the baseball bat along just in case.
Copyright 2008 Philip Neale |
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| Last Updated ( Wednesday, 20 August 2008 ) |
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