‘ Okay, thanks, Henry. We’ll see what comes of it — if anything. But for the moment, let’s concentrate on the here and now — Gilbert and Spencer.’ He looked squarely at Danny. ‘Go get ‘em.’
Chapter Eighteen
They had to do it right and they needed the manpower to get it right.
FB, unusually magnanimous, gave the go-ahead.
First up, the Surveillance Unit were hurriedly called in and briefed by Danny: their task to pinpoint the suspects, keep them in sight and report their whereabouts.
Secondly, the Support Unit were roused and, again, briefed by Danny. Their job was to follow arrest teams in and, under the instructions of a team leader, to search, seize and secure evidence. That meant at Spencer’s place the bedclothes, the sink, the drains, the shower — anything which could be useful for forensics and could link Claire Lilton with the address.
Then there would be a forensic and Scenes of Crime team behind them, supporting and bagging any evidence for further examination.
It had been decided that Danny would lead one arrest team, Henry the other. They would hit both men simultaneously and bring them to Blackpool nick. One at a time. Ensure no contact — eyeball, verbal, physical, whatever, their cells were to be at opposite ends of the complex so they would not be able to even shout to each other.
Once both men were incarcerated, given their rights and everything else they had to be given, Danny would lead the interview teams whilst Henry took a step backwards to supervise the process.
They tossed up to see who would arrest whom. Henry flicked the 2p piece with his thumb. ‘Heads I take Gilbert, tails you take him.’ Both wanted him badly.
The coin rolled up through the air, slow motion almost.
Danny prayed: Let it be tails.
Henry moved out of the way of the falling coin. It clattered on the floor.
Danny smiled grimly.
Four hours later and Myrna had heard nothing. She helped herself to a strong black coffee from the machine in the main office and stared through the window across the cityscape, a vacant look in her eyes but her mind churning angrily because she felt such a fool on two counts.
One, she had been used by Tracey, the little bitch. Two, Karl Donaldson must have thought she was an annoying little tick who could not do anything right.
Damn the girl.
The two detectives waited patiently as the Surveillance Unit coasted into action. There was nothing to do now but be patient.
‘ How’s things on the Jack Sands front?’ Henry asked conversationally.
Danny’s skin crept at the mention of the name. ‘Okay. No hassle. Haven’t seen him, actually. How about you?’
‘ Me neither. Seems to be keeping a low profile.’
‘ Think he’s got the message?’
Henry shrugged. ‘Don’t know. He’s not thick, but he’s stubborn.’
A personal radio stood on its base on Henry’s desk, tuned into the encrypted channel dedicated to the arrest operation. It crackled. A message passed from one member of the Surveillance Unit to another. It was nothing for Henry or Danny or the arrest teams, who were biding their time by playing snooker upstairs in the recreation room.
Danny’s heart jumped, but she remained calm.
Soon, she thought. Soon.
‘ Any progress?’
‘ Zilch.’
‘ Not to worry,’ Karl Donaldson said reassuringly. ‘She’ll turn up.’
‘ Yeah, yeah, sure,’ Myrna moaned. ‘Look, I’m really sorry if I’ve caused any problems over there. She was right here when I spoke to you.’ Myrna gestured to the empty seat in her office as though Donaldson could see. ‘Then I dozed off and when I woke, she’d skedaddled.’
‘ Just keep me posted.’
‘ Yeah. Hey, Karl, thanks for phoning. I’ve felt such a barf.’
‘ Forget it.’
‘ Got him! Target Two in sight, walking down the Promenade. Dressed in a pale blue suit. Grey shoes. Completely un-fucking-mistakable. Stands out like a prick in a nursery.’ Danny grabbed the radio before Henry could.
‘ Good job. But remember there’s more than just you and your team listening, so maintain strict radio discipline. Received?’
‘ Roger,’ grunted the glum reply, knuckles rapped.
‘ Whereabouts on me Prom?’ Danny asked.
‘ Just outside Tussaud’s, walking north. There’s a two-man follow behind him now on foot. We’ve got him. He’s not going anywhere without us knowing, especially in that suit.’
‘ Keep us informed.’
Henry gestured for the radio.
‘ Arrest squad two,’ he transmitted over it. ‘CID office, two minutes, ready to roll, please.’
‘ Already there, boss,’ came the reply.
‘ I’ll see you later.’ Henry pointed at Danny, stood up, and clicked his thumb.
‘ Henry?’ She rose slowly and looked at him.
Another of those stomach-churning, ‘Do we? Don’t we?’ moments flipped between them. Both caught it, both held back. Instead, Henry squeezed her hand and less than romantically said, ‘Next time I see you, make sure it’s in the custody office.’ It was probably destined to be one of the great romantic lines of all times. They laughed, parted and Henry was gone.
The Promenade was bitter cold, the usual icy wind driving in from the Irish Sea. Henry danced a jig and rubbed his hands to keep warm. His jacket collar was turned up high around his ears, his shoulders hunched low. He was near the entrance to North Pier, looking across the wide Prom towards a row of amusement arcades on the opposite side of the road, just south of the junction with Talbot Square. He was chatting to a member of the Surveillance Unit.
Ollie Spencer — Target Two — had been seen to enter ‘Ollie’s Amusements’ and go into the back room of the arcade. As arcades went in Blackpool, it was one of the less salubrious ones, fairly grotty, but still able to attract the penny-droppers. From the short opportunity Henry had had to do some research into Charlie Gilbert, he knew the fat man owned this business.
The front and rear of the arcade were covered by the surveillance team. At anyone time, using a tried and tested rotation system, there could be up to three members of the team in the premises, playing the bandits and video games. All on expenses, of course.
Once Henry had been briefed as to the situation, he walked back to his car parked a safe distance away. A member of his arrest team was driving for him.
The surveillance officer he had been talking to rejoined his team.
Henry crashed back into the passenger seat and smiled at his companion, a Detective Constable named Dave Seymour. Henry turned up the heater and said, ‘We wait.’
Seymour nodded. Waiting suited him. He didn’t like moving unless absolutely necessary.
The other members of the arrest team — two uniformed officers driving an unmarked police car — were parked nearby.
‘ He’s coming out of his office now,’ a voice came over the radio. ‘Leaving via the rear door. Get ready guys, ‘n’ gals, he’ll be with you in fifteen seconds.’
There was a silent delay on the airwaves. It seemed interminable.
‘ Got him,’ came the next voice eventually, ‘heading towards Talbot Square.’
Henry breathed out, not realising he had been holding his breath in the first place.
They followed him unobtrusively, sometimes even brushing past him, even actually making eye-contact with him on occasion. So Spencer actually saw members of the surveillance team, yet never once suspected remotely they were cops and he was being tailed.
‘ Up Talbot Road, away from the Prom.’
‘ He’s going to take them to his flat,’ Henry mused out loud. Where, if their information was correct, Claire had been murdered.
‘ Turning left onto Dickson Road.’
Henry looked at Seymour. Yes, Ollie Spencer was taking them home.
The other surveillance team were not having quite the same measure of success. The whereabouts of Target One, Charlie Gilbert, eluded them. They set up an ob-point near his house in Poulton-le-Fylde, but no one was home. Another ob-point was at his usual place of work — a grand, restored building, formerly a warehouse of some sort which had been refurbished as offices and storage facilities. But Gilbert could have been anywhere. He owned a chain of arcades down the Golden Mile on the sea-front, restaurants, cafes, shops selling cheap tack; and not only in Blackpool. There probably wasn’t one large town in the Northwest of England which did not have one of Gilbert’s arcades in it. They were everywhere. His other recent business moves included out-of-town developments where, several years before, he had bought cheap land and then as the out-of-town shopping boom burst open, he began to develop the land, making vast amounts of money in the process.