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Blind Faith, Chapter 3 |
| Written by Philip Neale | |
| Wednesday, 20 August 2008 | |
 Stepping out of the car, Michael Benson brushed away the imaginary specks of dust from the Moss Bros suit which Colin had insisted he wear, and loosened the tie which was threatening to throttle him. This had better be good after the straightjacket that Carrington had dressed him in................
The Drake's house in Solihull was in a quiet cul-de-sac and fronted by a well-kept garden with a gravel path leading up to a stone porch. Michael Benson looked up and down the street before raising the brass door knocker. Not a soul was about - perfect for the conversation which was about to take place. Letting the hammer fall on to its plate, he stood back from the oak front door and turned to admire the car which adorned the driveway. BMW 5 series, very nice and a 525i SE as well; had to be worth £35,000 of anyone's money. The sound of the door opening dragged his attention back to the job in hand.
"Yes?" Brian Drake rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked his watch; eight fifteen on a Saturday morning was not the time he expected visitors.
"Mr Drake? Mr Brian Drake?"
"Yes, who are you and what do you want" A little testy when faced with unanticipated and official-sounding requests.
"My name's not important, but the man I represent would like you to accept a small refund of your expenses. It must have been extremely inconvenient travelling all that way to Nottingham for nothing, and we'd really be grateful if you'd accept this small gesture of appreciation."
He produced a plain white envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to the still drowsy Brian. One look at the contents was enough to consign the last vestiges of sleep to memory. Thumbing across the wad of twenty pound notes, Brian estimated the value to be in the region of £10,000 and stood in complete silence as the significance of what was happening finally dawned upon him. He frowned at the now smiling Mickey Benson.
"What is this? A bribe? A veiled threat? Here, take your bloody money and tell your ‘boss' what he can do with it."
He threw the envelope back at Benson and turned to go back into the house. Mickey made no attempt to stop him and continued to smile. Anyone passing the property would not have given a second thought to the scenario which was being played out. His words however, were delivered with chilling menace as he retrieved the baseball bat from the outside corner of the porch where it had been stowed.
"Well yes, alright I will do that for you Mr Drake. Oh, there's just one thing before I go - did you know that your front light cluster appears to be broken?" he nodded towards the BWM, Brian's pride and joy.
"What do you mean? There's absolutely nothing wrong with it."
Brian moved forwards off the porch step and looked around Benson at the car. Mickey turned and produced the bat which had been concealed behind his back. One more glance up and down the street and a sharp blow to the nearside array had the entire thing in pieces with glass all over the drive.
"Oh yes, I think you'll find it's totally useless. Be a shame if anything else went wrong with such a beautiful motor, now wouldn't it?"
"You bastard! I'll have the police here in no time."
"Yes, I daresay you will, but with no witnesses" he waved up and down the road "and several colleagues who will swear to being in the same Nottingham pub with me at precisely this time, I really don't see what good that will do. I'll be well on my way before the plods arrive anyway."
He smiled and walked back down the driveway to a waiting car. Pausing at the passenger side he looked back towards the house and pointed a finger.
"Take care; we'll be in touch."
Brian was shaking with rage at the threat and the damage to his car. Back inside the house he picked up the telephone and dialled the Nottingham number given to him by Tom Lewis. The detectives' arrival just after lunch had curtains twitching once more at neighbouring windows, and Brian glared in distaste at the ghoulish nature of people whom he had considered to be above that sort of thing. He explained the morning's events following the arrival of Mickey Benson, and his description of the man left Lewis and Palmer in no doubt now about the nature of the threat which faced their two star witnesses. Nevertheless Benson's assurance of his alibi would doubtless hold true, leaving the two detectives powerless to help with the damage to the car. It was however, time to consider moving the Drakes to a more secure location, and after a hurried packing session they were whisked away in the back of the unmarked vehicle.
The fact that Brian and Susie Drake had been removed from their home and known location to a ‘safer' refuge was of no concern to Colin Carrington. A single telephone call to an untraceable mobile in the possession of his ‘mole' had information relating to their current whereabouts in his hands within twenty-four hours. Plans were now advancing apace to the next stage in his campaign to convince them of the error of their ways. With a round the clock guard now in place, Lewis had considered the danger to the Drakes minimised sufficiently to enable him approach the now less than self-assured personage of Billy Steel.
Banged up in solitary confinement within the imposing walls of Lincoln gaol's maximum security wing, the young man's demeanour had softened considerably during the time he had been there. Deprived of all contact save that of the ‘family' solicitor, his will had weakened enough for Lewis and Palmer to pay him a call. What they found was something far removed from the truculent and confrontational self-confident young thug whom they had arrested shortly after the murder of Mark Travis. He was now a nervous and pitiful wreck and his eyes flitted frantically around the room as the two officers took their seats before him.
"Billy" Lewis murmured in an almost father-like tone "What are we going to do with you?"
"Mr Lewis, you gotta help me." ‘Mr Lewis', my that was a change from the ‘filthy copper' which had been spat out during the arrest. "Colin'll kill me when I get out."
"What makes you think he'll still be around by the time that happens?" Lewis frowned in mock concern. "You won't be spending much of the next twenty or so years outside the confines of a prison cell."
Clearly the consequences of the events leading up to and surrounding the killing of Mark Travis were completely lost on Steel. When Palmer explained the likely course of events which were due to unfold at his trial, and the maximum penalty which he was almost certain to incur, he broke down in tears. Of course, Palmer continued, should Billy find it convenient to reveal some of the finer details of the Carrington operations, the trial judge might be persuaded to err on the side of a much bigger picture - he might be out in, oh.....ten years with good behaviour.
Offered this last straw to save his wretched neck, Billy Steel had no hesitation in agreeing to anything that the two detectives might want to know. They would, they said, be back later with all the equipment necessary to record a full account of the activities, legal and otherwise, of the Carrington organisation. This was going to be the biggest breakthrough in Nottingham's fight against organised crime.
Notwithstanding this latest coup brought about by Lewis and Palmer, an early morning attack was currently at the advanced operational stage in an area of Mansfield hitherto considered outside the scope of the criminal fraternity. True to his word, the mole had provided Carrington with the details of the safe house in the Woodhouse district of the town, and under cover of darkness six black-clad figures approached a semi-detached house at the end of Burton Street. Each carried a bottle of petrol the neck of which had been ‘stopped' with a rag soaked with its contents. At a given silent signal, each of these Molotov Cocktails was lit and thrown through separate windows in the property. Within minutes the whole house was ablaze and the perpetrators had made their getaway in a stolen Ford Sierra.
Colin Carrington had been unconcerned as to whether or not the Drakes had managed to effect an escape from the inferno. His intention had been rather to terrify the two witnesses into retracting their eye witness testimony than to kill them. That the net was, irrespective of this, closing quickly around him as a result of the events at Lincoln gaol, completely failed to register. Billy Steel had delivered what amounted to a death blow to his empire.
The occupants of the Mansfield house had escaped with nothing more than mild effects of smoke inhalation, due to the prompt and professional action of the uniformed police in attendance. Now under armed guard at Nottingham's Queens Medical Centre, where they were undergoing check-ups, the Drakes received a visit from Lewis and Palmer where they were appraised of developments in the pursuit of the Carrington clan. A series of arrests had been made across the city during the night of the firebombing in the neighbouring town, and all but one of the senior ‘staff' in the organisation were now under lock and key. The only member of Colin's inner ‘cabal' to escape the purge had been Mickey Benson who had been out of town at the time, and who was now laying very low.
Six months later, and after one of the most publicised trials since that of the Kray twins in the 1960s, Colin Carrington and all those arrested along with him were convicted on a variety of counts at the Central Criminal Court in London. Carrington himself received a minimum sentence of thirty years with no prospect of early release, whilst his ‘lieutenants' were sent down for terms varying between ten and twenty. Billy Steel was given a new identity by the Home Office and sentenced to serve out a term of eight years at an undisclosed location within the British Isles.
To be concluded...................... Copyright 2008 Philip Neale |
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