“Friday Fiction” Series: Arms Control, Chapters Four to Six…
[Note from Steve: My British-style mysteries to date probably are more influenced by Dame Agatha and other authors’ creations rather than the hard-boiled American school, probably the major influence for my “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco” series (the Tums-chewing Castilblanco is as hard-boiled as lollipop-sucking Kojak, to be honest). After a bit of reflection about that, I decided to write a story about a hard-boiled British DI. Okay, he has Irish blood, so maybe the stereotype of Irish NYC cop also holds true with him? You decide.]
Arms Control
Copyright 2021, Steven M. Moore
Chapter Four
“I almost couldn’t find this place,” Hal Leonard told Alan as he slid into the pub’s booth to sit opposite the inspector. “I’m still getting used to driving in London, you know. Even with my GPS, I get lost, especially in the burbs…or detoured by construction the satellites don’t know about.”
They were about the same age; that meant old as far as coppers went. Amanda had dragged Alan to a party a few month’s earlier—he rarely went to such functions because he wasn’t any good at small talk—and there the inspector had met Hal. The American fit Alan’s stereotype of an old hippy, although his beard was limited to the more fashionable scruff seen on much younger men nowadays. His standard apparel consisted of a polo or Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and trainers. But brief conversations at that party and over the phone later signaled to Alan that the man was no one’s prat, and he could be serious without being maudlin.
“Easy to do,” Alan said. “Probably doesn’t help that you’re switching between left- and right-handed driving all the time going from Paris to London and back. How’s everything going, mate?”
“Good. Ma belle cherie is back on the job, so she’s more content; me, not so much. Chunnel makes the trip easier, but Brexit makes it harder, mostly at the French-EU end. Probably revenge for Brexit. I try to organize things so I have a week with her and a week in London. Not ideal, to say the least.”
Alan winked at him. “Aren’t Yanks used to long commutes?”
“I haven’t been much of a Yank since I was nearly killed in a firefight in Juarez.”
“You’ll have to tell me about that in a less-hurried chinwag over more than one beer. You Yanks do like your guns. Funny how they’re your specialty now.”
“Illegal ones, and that’s probably a segue for the reason of the present chinwag?” Hal said with a smile.
Segue? Sounds like an erudite local. His use of chinwag was also amusing. “You got it. I think I’m up against a dealer, code name J&M Enterprises, Limited. Ring any bells?”
“Yes, but I can’t help you much, bro. We’re trying to bust them. Hard to do when you don’t know who they are. Can’t seem to get anyone undercover in the organization either.”
“Agreed. ‘We’ meaning MI5?” Hal nodded. “We’ve nicked some of the front end of their supply chain. Bloke named Sam Duncan had a cargo-hauling and construction business that delivered arms and ammo to J&M from Southampton to sites in London. And don’t ask which ones. We’re lucky to know the merchandise was destined for sales in London. Shipping invoices for the under-the-table payments aren’t specific, and Duncan is no longer alive to give us more details. Doubt he’d have known exactly where in London shipments were destined without the help of the invoices to jiggle his memory anyway. Not the brightest scrote there ever was, old Sam.”
“I see. Want to work together? I can convince MI5, especially if you’re willing to share data.”
“That has to go both ways, mate, and my DCI might not be too keen about too much MI5 involvement. Apparently not too much love there, and he’s always looking to glorify himself.”
“Young ass on his way up?” Alan nodded. “Know the type. Believe me, MI5 has them too.”
“I’ll have to work on him. Get back to you?”
“D’accord, monsieur. I’ll check and make sure my VIPs are okay with it too, not that they can tell me what to do. I just want to inform them so I have access to MI5 data. I already have that with DGSI’s and Interpol’s databases, the advantage of being a free-lance consultant. You do realize that J&M is probably only a distributor, right? They take orders and then deliver them somewhere.”
Alan nodded. “Must be real upstanding business people, eh?”
Hal smiled. He raised his glass. “Cheers, Alan.” He knocked down half the glass and made a face as if it were bitter medicine. It was bitter…and warm. “God, I hate your tepid beer!”
***
Alan and Judy were huddled in planning mode when Jay dropped by.
“How’d it go with Hal Leonard?” he said.
“He’s basically telling the MI5 brass he’s going to work with us, whether they like it or not. Wants a to-and-fro on information, though…just between him and us, of course.”
“Sounds like he’s a loose cannon.”
“More like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about inter-agency politics, just capturing the bad blokes.”
Jay frowned. The DCI’s no prat. He knows the hidden meaning contained in that statement.
“Keep me posted. As long as it stays between him and us, I’ll be okay with it. Any joy with the barrister?”
“I insinuated he called J&M based on what our constable overheard,” Judy said. “I’d wager a good sum that he told them Duncan had cooperated with us.”
“Too bad we can’t nick him for that.” He eyed his two detectives. “Can we?”
“Only if we come at him from the J&M side. When we nick them, they might grass on him.” Alan shrugged. “Patience isn’t one of my virtues. Yours either, I presume. But we have to be patient. We might be able to make a clean sweep later.”
“Keep me posted. I’m off to dinner with the super. Business, though. We’ll be talking about an upcoming reorganization.”
“Another one?” Alan said.
“Home Office, etcetera, etcetera, keeps making budget cuts. Welcome to my world.”
“You can have it, sir.”
“Think we’ll be hit hard?” Judy said after Jay left them. “I rather like the makeup of our team as it is.”
“One can only hope it goes the other way. How many times have I had to steal personnel from other teams for a big case?”
“Too many. But back to reality. How do you want to proceed?”
“We visit with Hal, offering what we have, and he does the same for us. Hopefully MI5, Interpol, or DGSI has a better idea about who J&M might be.”
“And what about the barrister?”
“What you and I said to Jay. We can’t nick him coming from the Duncan side, but we might be able to do so from the J&M one. For now, let’s also consider he might not be J&M’s informant. There’s a whole cast of characters among Sam’s cohorts.”
“And including our team.”
“Yes, unfortunately. Be discreet. Many people knew Sam Duncan. Doesn’t mean they knew what he was up to.”
“I doubt anyone who liked Sam would grass on him. I only knew him from a few drunk and disorderly charges when I was on patrol. That was a long time ago.”
“Understood. As I said, be discrete. And put it on the back burner for now. The barrister is my number one suspect for the leak, but he’s on the sidelines for now. I’m going to need your help working with Hal.”
“So tell me about him,” she said with a smile.
“Easy, lass. He has a French girlfriend, and she works with DGSE, so she can kick arse.”
She smiled. “So can I. No, I’m just curious. I don’t know many Americans.”
“He’s more a rogue of the world than any specific nationality…from what I know about him.”
***
That evening, Alan made it up to Amanda. He took her out to a new Argentine restaurant he’d seen on the way to his pub meeting with Hal. She had similar tastes to his and was an omnivore—no vegetarian or vegan extremes for her—so he figured his predilection for a Buenos Aires-style bife with all the bread and salad you could eat washed down with red Argentine wine would suit her just fine too.
“What’s that they’re dancing?” she asked once they were settled.
“A raunchy tango—the dancing’s raunchy, not the music. Tangos are sung or played, and you can dance either way, if you’re not as old as I am.”
“How do you know so much about it?” She was smiling,.
Caught you, you fool! “Dated an Argentine bird at college, if you must know. Don’t worry.” He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “Not nearly as smart or pretty as you are. You know there were women before you.”
“We both have backgrounds, Alan. Most people do. But you’ve never danced with me.”
“Didn’t with her either. Not good at it, to be honest. Too damn clumsy. I enjoy the music, though.”
“We could take lessons.”
“In our spare time? We don’t have any. You’re busy and I’m busy.”
Amanda was a graphics artist who did everything from book covers to ad layouts in the Times. She was on call, and so was he. Hell, we haven’t even taken the time to get married!
She smiled. “We’d have to make time and be adaptable. Can I buy a package of lessons for us?”
Give in. It’s her night. “Okay, but we’ll have to be flexible, and not just for the dancing. Either you or I might get a call while doing a tango.”
She laughed. “I’m sure we can work it out.”
Alan hoped not. Very few things came between them, but he was thinking dance lessons might just do it.
Bread and salad arrived, so they tucked in.
Chapter Five
Alan, now with Judy, met Hal this time midway between his flat and the station, at a library of all places. Turned out the American had a permanent workroom there, passing himself off as a biographer who needed quick access to old books. The librarians didn’t ask too many questions; the extra money it meant for the library had dwindled to zero with Covid when the library had been closed for months. Alan guessed that Hal felt good about helping a library get back on its feet.
After introductions, they settled in, Alan and Hal placing loaded legal folders of documents on the table.
“I told Elaine the librarian that I’m interviewing you two because I’m writing a history of law enforcement in England. Just in case she asks.”
“Do you know anything about the history of law enforcement in England?” Judy said with a smile.
“Enough to state that the MI in MI5 is probably an oxymoron,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe for MI6 too.”
Alan thought a moment and then smiled. “That’s a good one. So why do you consult for them?”
“When I left Interpol, I became bored. My girlfriend connected me up with DGSI, and an old colleague from Interpol connected me up with MI5. He’s also a consultant for them now.”
“I see. Both MI5 and MI6 are as stealthy as your own FBI and CIA. Many regular police don’t like them much.”
“I guess that’s part of the history,” Hal said with a wink at Judy.
Once secured in Hal’s borrowed office space, the Yank covered some background. “We came across the J&M connection from the other end. As you probably know, MI5 and the Yard have a joint counterterrorism task force, not unlike the FBI and NYPD’s in New York City. They made a drug bust on a Southwark gang’s hideout a while back and found a lot of military-style weapons, ammo, and other stuff.”
“And some gang members grassed on J&M?” Alan said.
“Not directly. The leader had a business card with just a name, Randall, and a telephone number. The agents called that number and hit an answering machine that announced, ‘J&M Enterprises, Limited, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.’ Couldn’t trace the location of the phone, though.”
“What about Randall?” Judy said.
“Could be man, woman, or ghost, but not likely real. They called again and left a message for Randall like the tape said to do. No call back from anyone named Randall, or anyone else, for that matter.”
“So nil,” said Alan. “What’s with all those folders then?”
“Most of what we have on illegal arms arriving in London,” Hal said. “I’ve detected some patterns. So have others. We think it’s because one supplier—middlemen, considering your case—is taking orders and doing the distributing.”
“J&M,” Judy said in a whisper.
“The obvious suspect. Let’s get to work.”
***
When the trio left Hal’s library office, Alan noted that Hal just locked the door with a key. “Anyone could break in there and have a go at those documents.”
“You haven’t met Elaine or her helpers yet. They guard these workrooms like they were Fort Knox. Two librarians are right over there during the hours the library’s open.” He waved at two elderly ladies who smiled and waved back.
“And when the library’s closed?”
“Night watchmen make their rounds. There are valuable archives in the basement and subbasement. National libraries in England are damn secure. Those folders might even be more secure than the crown jewels.”
After pouring over many documents with Hal, Alan and Judy had seen the pattern too. At one point, Alan indicated two names and looked at Judy. “We know these scrotes! Should we squeeze them a bit?”
Hal nodded. “Could work. What’s their rap sheet look like?”
Judy had pulled out two of their own folders. “Both have form for armed robbery.” She read a bit more. “They used military-style weapons and wore armed vests on their last heist that put them in the king’s nick. They’ve been clean for the last three years. Supposedly.”
“Maybe just not caught again,” Alan said. “Let’s have a nice little Q&A session with them.”
“If we can find them,” Judy said.
That’s when they’d called it a day and returned to the station.
Chapter Six
The next day those two upstanding citizens were found and brought in to be interrogated. Judy and Alan grilled them, the DS doing most of the questioning because Alan thought she was better at that, and he was better with observing body language. Hal and Jay watched from behind the one-way mirror.
Doug Priestly and Art Simons glared at the two detectives. If looks could kill…, Alan thought. He wondered if they shouldn’t be interrogated separately. Doing them together was Jay’s idea, but Alan knew they couldn’t play one against the other that way. As it turned out, Simons was Priestly’s mouthpiece; all Doug gave were head nods or one-word agreements to Art’s answers.
“Have you blokes been behaving yourselves?” Judy began after the standard warning and introductions for the videotape had been made. They nodded like two bubblehead figures. “Congratulations. No form in three years. Been hiding in a cave somewhere?”
“We’ve gone straight,” Art said. Doug nodded. “Done nothing that’d interest you plods. Be nice to hear the reason for dragging us in here. Maybe we’ll sue.”
“It might be hard to go clean, so congratulations are in order, like I said,” Judy continued, ignoring the threat, “but your last crime was unusual. You not only progressed from robbing people’s homes, you did it using military-style arms and armor in an armed robbery. You confessed to your crimes—not a surprise since we had CCTV video records and plenty of witnesses—but we didn’t follow up on how you got all that high-tech military stuff. Now we’d like to know more about that.”
Alan could imagine Jay turning a bit red in there with Hal. Alan remembered the DCI had handled that case as a DI. It got him a promotion, but he’d still made that error, more of an omission than anything else. Of course, hindsight is always 20-20. Hal wouldn’t know that history, of course.
“You could’ve asked us back then. We’d’ve been willin’ to make a deal to shed a few years from our sentence in return for tellin’ you.”
Their legal representative stared at Art. Maybe thinking he needed to open his mouth and offer some advice at this point? Like, for Art to keep his shut?
Judy changed tack. “Did you receive that equipment from J&M Enterprises? Yes or no?”
Alan smiled. He’d seen the barrister’s surprise, but, more importantly, the thug’s eyes told Alan that the answer was yes; Art didn’t even have to vocalize it. Alan turned and winked at the barrister who shifted in his chair.
“No,” Art said. “Never heard about no J&M.” Doug shook his head in the negative to agree.
Judy waved a hand, signaling a tech who was in the room with Hal and Jay. A CCTV video was displayed on the screen opposite the window; it showed Doug and Art kitting up for the robbery. It had been taken a block away from the jewelry store. The dumb brutes hadn’t even seen the traffic camera. The video had been shown at their trial.
The tech froze the video at one point and zoomed in on the two thugs. That made the video more pixelated, but anyone could see tags on the guns and vests. Cardboard boxes could also be seen in their car.
“There were a lot of cameras in London, even back then,” Judy said. “The equipment you were using was new. Where did you get it? Not at Harrod’s, I presume.”
“Birthday gifts from mum,” Art said with a smile. Doug also smiled.
“Both your mums are dead,” Judy said. “And they didn’t live long enough to teach you some manners.” She halfway rose from her chair, palms down on the table so she could get in Art’s face. “We’re charging you with dealing in stolen military equipment. You’ll be back in jail for another couple of years, at least. Unless…” She sat again. Now she winked at the lawyer. “…unless you want to reduce your sentence by telling us where you purchased that equipment.”
Art looked at Doug, who shrugged. The lawyer shook his head.
“We’ll give you time to confer with your lawyer.”
Judy and Alan walked out of the interrogation room.
***
“Nice work,” Alan said to Judy “You had Art’s attention at the first mention of J&M.”
“Think they’ll fold?” said Hal. “The lawyer’s a snake.”
“Aren’t they all,” Jay said. “At least the ones we have to deal with. I think they’ll fold, but we won’t get much, unless they’re still fraternizing with J&M.”
Fraternizing? Alan smirked. The DCI was always pulling out the big words that didn’t quite fit.
“Okay, let’s assume they fold,” Judy said. “I’ll then follow up by asking if they’re still dealing with them. Hal?”
Everyone could see the American was deep in thought.
“They’ve been clean since the armed robbery,” he finally said. “They might be lying low by working for J&M. It’s a distribution network. There’ll be several warehouses around London, I’d wager, and they all need thugs to run them and get the arms to buyers. I’d like to find just one of those warehouses.”
“Interesting idea,” Jay said. “The two might know a lot about the J&M operation.”
“I’d tell them the deal’s off,” said Alan, “unless they tell us what they’ve been doing behind the scenes.”
Hal shrugged. “Could work. We might want to find some of that out before talking anymore to them. You can hold them for twenty-four hours, right?”
“Forty-eight, depending on the charges. The case against them right now is a bit iffy, though.”
“Let’s take a break,” Judy said, “so Alan and I can get the lads moving on finding out what Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum have been up to. We got nothing in the few hours we had available, except for that video from the trial, but a whole twenty-four hours or so of digging might turn up more.”
“Go for it,” Jay said. He waved a hand at Hal. “We have to talk.”
Jay turned and headed for his office. Hal raised an eyebrow at the detectives. Alan shrugged.
***
Once Hal and Jay were inside Jay’s office, the DCI gestured towards a chair and went around his desk to sit as well.
“Hal, how much are your reporting back to MI5?”
Hal thought a moment. That’s a loaded question! Is this fellow guarding his turf? Or is he looking for praise from MI5 that will lead to a higher position? Hal shifted in his uncomfortable chair that seemed designed to make any discussion with Alan’s boss brief ones.
Hal had to second Alan’s implied perception of his DCI Jay Mallow. The bloke looked and dressed like a Wall Street banker, all spic and span: coiffed hair with just a touch of gray, thin face that accented his Roman nose, and a twisted smile that seemed as false as that one-term US president’s, a born loser Hal had hated so much that he was glad he’d been in Europe during his term. Jay had expensive clothing too: striped suit and vest; watch fob; silk tie on white shirt; and, although Hal couldn’t see them, probably tasseled loafers. Here was a man who used his appearance to hide incompetence.
“I did and am doing just what I said: I have the green light from the MI5 VIPs to collaborate with your investigation. I can share what information they have with you folks in regards to your particular case, and they expect that you’ll share with them anything you have that’s more general and likely more useful in their big-picture investigation. I’m just a consultant for both groups. My only motivation is to help find those in J&M related to this Sam Duncan, particularly his killers. I thought we’d agreed on that?”
Jay spread his palms on the clean desk top. “As long as we get credit for our part. MI5 would have known nothing about how the arms were getting from port to J&M if it weren’t for us, and I don’t want to turn this station into a branch of MI5.”
“I doubt that Duncan was the only transporter nor that Southampton was the only port. There are a lot of ports in England. In Ireland and Scotland as well. Arms traffickers don’t give a damn about national and international boundaries.”
“That’s what you mean by big-picture investigation?” Hal nodded. “Maybe the NCA should be handling that?”
Hal smiled. The National Crime Agency, founded in 2013, was a direct competitor to MI5. The former tended to focus on organized crime; the latter, terrorism, domestic and international. Hal knew agents from both, and thought that maybe the DCI now felt closer to NCA, although both the MI5 and NCA also competed and collaborated with the Metropolitan Police network.
“As an American, I’m not aware of all the ins and outs of British law enforcement institutions or their inter-agency politics, but MI5 often works closely with the Tinworth Street people…and vice versa. As for the big picture I referred to, there’s clearly an organized crime element and a terrorist one. I do have experience fighting the illegal arms trade, and that nexus often exists. We can’t fight it without cooperating, internationally, nationally, and locally.”
Jay straightened his tie and puffed up a bit. “I just wanted to make a few things clear to you.”
“Without Alan and Judy around?”
Jay did a little dip of his chin as an attempt to bow. “I’m running this investigation. Not them.”
Like hell you are! “I repeat, Detective Chief Inspector, I only want to stop illegal arms trafficking. I don’t play political games as a consequence. You can take all the credit for all I care. Are we done here?”
Jay shrugged. “I suppose.”
Hal left, knowing that neither of them liked the other. Poor Alan! He has to work for that SOB!
***
Comments are always welcome.
Free fiction. Current ‘zines now aren’t worth my time—their submission processes are more onerous than those for any novel—so I now give away my short fiction. If you’ve been regularly reading this blog, you’ll know that free fiction can be found in the “Steve’s Shorts,” “ABC Shorts,” and “Friday Fiction” archives, but it’s often serialized like this story. It then moves (non-serialized) into a free PDF download. See the complete list of free, downloadable PDFs on my “Free Stuff & Contests” web page at this website. If you feel guilty about enjoying the reading of my free fiction, please donate to your favorite charities; some good ones are the American Cancer Society, the American Heart Association, the Nature Conservancy, and the World Wildlife Fund. Donations to them and others are often tax deductible; donations to the NRA and PACs are not.
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