say very much to you, sonny, do I?’
Spencer did not respond.
Crane reached across and tipped up Spencer’s chin with a forefinger. There was no resistance. ‘You are a stupid little boy who thinks he’s a man, aren’t you?’
Spencer blinked rapidly and swallowed.
‘ Men do not crap themselves, Spence.’
Crane stood up to his full height, looked around the floor and saw a couple of eight-foot wooden planks, each about four inches thick, lying nearby. ‘Lay those two planks on top of each other,’ he said.
Hawker and Price, the two men who had so efficiently abducted the couple, materialised from behind them. They carried out Crane’s instructions, placing one plank on top of the other.
Crane watched them work, then turned to address Cheryl and Spencer. ‘I want you both to see how angry you have made me and to realise how wrong you were to be such fools. I’ll deal with you first.’ He glared directly at Spencer.
‘ Oh fuck — no,’ Spencer screamed. ‘I didn’t even know she was carrying the stuff. Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!’ he babbled. ‘I’ve done nowt.’
‘ Pick him up and lie him face down, parallel to the planks,’ he instructed Hawker and Price.
On hearing the words, Spencer shot to his bound feet and threw himself sideways in an effort to escape. The two men caught him quickly and easily. One punched him hard in the guts, doubling him over, driving all the air and fight out of him. Spencer crumpled with a groan. Then they laid him out as instructed.
‘ About two feet away,’ Crane directed. ‘Good. Now, release his arms.’ Crane squatted on his haunches near to Spencer’s head and spoke quietly. ‘Listen to me, Spencer. ‘I’m going to get these guys to let your arms go free, so you can do this whatever way you want. I don’t give a shit. If you struggle or fight at all, things will be worse for you.’ Crane shrugged. ‘You know what I’m saying, don’t you?’
Spencer nodded, his face pressed into the oily concrete of the garage floor. His hands came free.
‘ Good. Now, Spencer, keep yourself face down and reach out with your right arm, straight out from your shoulder and place the palm of your hand down on top of the planks. That’s it, good lad. Keep your arm rigid and keep your elbow nice and locked. Excellent.’
Crane stood up stiffy, stepped over Spencer so that he was standing in the gap between Spencer and the planks. He placed the sole of his right shoe on the point of Spencer’s elbow and tested it with a little bit of pressure, but no real body weight.
He nodded at Cheryl and smiled foully.
Her face was a mask of horror and disbelief.
Spencer began to weep.
Crane’s expression was evil. ‘This is part payment for fifty grand,’ he announced. At the exact moment he finished speaking, he rose up, put all his weight on to his right foot and forced Spencer’s elbow down like he was breaking a twig. The joint went first time with a loud splintering crack. Spencer roared in pain.
Crane stepped off.
‘ I do not fuck about,’ he said, lurched over to Cheryl, grabbed her face in the palm of his hand and squeezed, distorting her features. ‘And now it’s your turn, girl,’ he growled.
Henry Christie stared with growing disbelief at Detective Superintendent Rupert Davison, then emitted a high-pitched laugh with a slightly hysterical tinge to it. ‘Did I hear you right? You’re asking me why I didn’t shoot him?’
‘ You had the opportunity.’
‘ Yeah — and he was being driven away in a car by some kid and he presented me with no danger whatsoever, except from exhaust fumes. Not only that, I was holding a firearm which I’d taken from Jacky Lee’s body which, it will probably transpire, was no doubt used by Lee to waste a guy a few weeks ago… the reason I was on Lee’s tail in the first place.’
Henry sat down after realising he had been pacing the room — a classroom at Sedgely Park, Greater Manchester Police’s training school. This was where a hasty rendezvous had been arranged for him and Terry Briggs to meet Davison for a debrief of Lee’s shooting.
‘ You let a professional killer go loose, probably to kill again.’
Henry blinked. He gave a sidelong glance at Terry who was sitting there shaking his head. He could not believe what he was hearing, either.
‘ So be it,’ Henry said. ‘I’ll live with it. At least I’m not at the shitty end of another PCA enquiry or civil litigation, having to justify even drawing breath, let alone firing a non-police-issue firearm. Yeah.’ He folded his arms defensively. ‘I can live with that.’ He was thinking about an on-going enquiry, in which he was deeply embroiled, following the shooting incident several years earlier when he had been obliged to put a bullet into a professional hitman. Things like that did not go away. They scarred for life.
‘ You have less of a conscience than I do, then,’ Davison said.
He and Henry stared impassively at each other. Henry was determined he would not be the one to drop his eyes. Instead, he raised his eyebrows.
After leaving the scene of Jacky Lee’s murder — in keeping with the characters of their legends — he and Terry had immediately contacted Davison and filled him in on what had taken place. As a result of their information, details of the getaway car had been circulated, but as yet — 11 p.m. — it had not been found. Davison had hastily arranged to meet the two U/C officers for a debrief and statements from them.
This process was taking a long time. They had been at it four hours. Henry and Terry were worn out and needed some serious kip. Davison’s attitude did not help either; he was annoying both detectives immensely.
‘ You’re criticising me for not shooting someone — is that what I’m hearing? I hate to think what you’d be saying to me if I had pulled the trigger.’ Henry snorted and let it drop. He needed a bed. He thought briefly about Kate and wondered if she was asleep or not. ‘I guess that’s it,’ he said with a touch of finality. ‘Job’s over. Jacky Lee’s met a sticky end. You’ll probably never find out for sure if he killed that guy in the canal, and we’ve done our work.’
‘ No, you haven’t.’ Davison shook his head.
Henry and Terry looked up together.
Davison held up the witness statements they had written. ‘I am now the SIO on the murder of Jacky Lee. I will not be making these statements available to the investigating team, though I will let my deputy know about them, of course. As far as you are both concerned, you are being hunted down by the police as witnesses to the murder, possibly even suspects. I haven’t revealed to any of my team that an undercover operation was up and running as regards Lee. It is not my intention to tell them an undercover operation is up and running to find Lee’s murderer.’
‘ What are you saying?’ Terry demanded.
‘ That I want you’ — he pointed at Henry — ‘to stay undercover, and I don’t want the Murder Squad to know about it, with the exception of my deputy SIO. I want you to get into the ribs of Lee’s minders and gather evidence for us… then when you’ve got it, I’ll pull you out.’
‘ That will be so fucking dangerous, it’s not worth talking about,’ Henry pointed out forcefully. ‘There’s a good chance I’ll get iced as well as Lee. It is not a good situation. In fact, it’s a dark, murky one. These people don’t mess around, you know. They don’t like you, or don’t trust you, they kill you. They’re not like you and me.’
‘ I want you to go back in and find out who killed Jacky Lee, then withdraw. Piece of piss for a guy like you.’
Henry remained tight-lipped. ‘Does Fanshaw-Bayley know about this?’
Davison nodded. ‘And approves.’
Henry’s lips reverted to tight, cynical. He looked at Terry. Each man knew what the other was thinking. It was an exciting prospect, yet appalling at the same time. Henry loathed himself for what he said next.
‘ OK, I’ll do it. But everything is down to me. Every detail. Everything. Even the merest hint that Thompson and Gunk are unhappy with me, I’m out like shit off a shovel.’