I looked at my watch. It was almost two o’clock. I really needed to eat. My stomach growled and whined, but the hunger simply wasn’t there, the morning’s drama having played havoc with my appetite. In the end, I got up and bought the last, forlorn-looking cheese sandwich from the canteen and forced it down back at my desk, managing to consume all but a quarter of it. My stomach stopped growling anyway, and it made me feel a little bit better.
The incident room was almost empty that afternoon, and there was a sense that the O’Brien case was as good as solved. Trevor Murk had been pronounced dead at Charing Cross hospital at ten past twelve that afternoon without regaining consciousness, and DCI Woodham had got a number of mugshots of his printed up from his police record (he had two convictions: one for theft, one for receiving stolen goods, neither recent) which murder squad detectives were showing to real and potential witnesses to see if they could get final confirmation that he was the shooter. I didn’t think that there would be much doubt that they’d get it, which was a testimony to Tina’s detective work. Woodham, meanwhile, was chairing a news conference at Scotland Yard, scheduled for 3.30, in which some of the heat would finally be taken off the team.
As for Flanagan, no-one could get hold of him. According to his wife, he’d gone to see the doctor, and that was all she’d say.
I picked up the phone and called Acton CID. When I got through I introduced myself and was put through to a detective constable called Greg Blake. I told him about the lead that had come up involving the gun Panner had fired, and how it impinged upon our murder investigation. ‘I’m interested in talking to someone who was involved in the raid to see if they remember anything about it that could be of help.’
‘Well, you’re talking to the right bloke,’ Blake answered. ‘I was there, but I don’t know how much I can tell you.’
‘I don’t know either,’ I said truthfully. ‘Was there any way anyone could have missed anything?’
‘No,’ said Blake emphatically. ‘No way. We went over the whole place with a fine toothcomb and we videoed the raid too. We recovered everything there was to recover. It sounds like your man’s lying.’
I sighed. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ And then something else struck me, something I hadn’t thought about before. ‘Do you remember who else was there from CID on the raid?’
Blake’s tone turned suspicious. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’m going to need to make a report of this lead, so I’ve got to cover my arse. You know the score.’
‘It was a big op, so it was run by my DCI, Frank Trummer. He was there, so was DC Bradshaw, and me obviously. Half a dozen uniforms and. .’ He paused at this point. ‘One of my former colleagues, Paul Vokerman. You might have heard about him. He got killed the other day on that Heathrow thing.’
‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ve heard of him. I was sorry to hear about that.’
‘He was a good bloke.’
‘It always happens to the best. Look, thanks for that.’
‘No problem. Anything else you need to know?’
‘No. That’ll be fine.’
I hung up and sat staring at the phone for a long time.
So it was Vokes Vokerman who was the traitor. I hadn’t been expecting that.
I was still staring at the telephone when Malik came into the incident room with his jacket on, looking like he was in a hurry. ‘Heard the latest, John?’ he asked me, picking up some papers from his desk. He was obviously going somewhere.
I swivelled round in my seat. ‘No, tell me. Then I’ve got something for you.’
‘I don’t think it’ll be as eye-opening as mine. Trevor Murk. .’
‘Yes?’
‘He’s a registered informant. Up until very recently, one of his main handlers was none other than Stegs Jenner.’ I think I must have looked confused because Malik pulled a face. ‘What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased. Tina will be. She’s been convinced he was the source of the leak all along.’
‘It’s not that,’ I said, ‘it’s just that Panner was telling the truth about that armourer. His name’s Anthony Cross. He was raided at the beginning of this month by Acton CID. Paul Vokerman was one of the men on the raid.’
He stared at me aghast. ‘You’re joking?’
I shook my head. ‘I wish I was. I really, genuinely wish I was.’
‘You think he lifted the gun on the raid and supplied it to Murk?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes thinking about it. Someone supplied the information on that deal at the hotel to either Nicholas Tyndall or Strangleman Grant, using O’Brien as a go- between. O’Brien was then shot using a gun we believe was once in the possession of an armourer whose home was raided by one of the undercover officers involved in the Heathrow op. The gun never showed up in the inventory, so, yeah, it seems very likely he lifted it.’
‘Where does that leave us? That both of them were involved? Stegs and Vokes? Because Vokes got killed on that op, which is why he’s always been above suspicion. If he was behind the robbery, why would he have set it up like that? He was in the room effectively as a hostage. He would have known that when the dealers went to get the gear and Stegs went to get the money that the robbery would occur, as planned, and then his life wouldn’t be worth anything. Why would he have done it? It would have been suicidal.’
‘But you remember when we were in the control room last week, watching it all unfold, Vokes didn’t want to be the one left behind. In fact, he was adamant. He even suggested that it would be best if Stegs was the one who stayed.’
‘That doesn’t mean he’s guilty of anything, though. I wouldn’t want to stay in a room with a bunch of armed drug dealers, even if SO19 were next door.’
‘Maybe he is innocent, but that still leaves a huge coincidence where that raid on Cross is concerned.’
Malik nodded. ‘I know. Two of them. It doesn’t bear thinking about. I didn’t think even Neil Vamen was capable of that sort of clout.’
‘I think we’ve been underestimating him.’
‘I’ve got to go and see Jack Merriweather this afternoon. We reckon he’s got some information on the whereabouts of the body of a thief who’s been missing for the last five years. When I talk to him, I’ll see if he knows about any involvement Stegs and Vokerman, and even Murk, might have had with the Holtzes or Vamen.’
‘We’re going to have to bring Stegs in now,’ I said. ‘His name’s coming up far too many times.’
‘I spoke to Woodham about ten minutes ago. He’s trying to get search and arrest warrants organized for him now.’ Malik put the papers he was holding into his briefcase, and locked it. ‘Listen, get on to Woodham. He’s down at Scotland Yard this afternoon, giving another press conference on the inquiry. Tell him about what we’ve found out about Vokes. And do me a favour.’
‘Your wish is my command, my lord.’
‘Sorry, I’m not trying to order you around. I’m just in a hurry, that’s all.’
‘What’s the favour?’
‘Can you give me a call and let me know as soon as you’ve got hold of Stegs? I want to be in on the questioning.’
I nodded. ‘Sure. Are you going to see Merriweather now?’
‘That’s classified information, John,’ Malik said, with only the barest hint of a smile.
‘Well, if you are, be careful. It strikes me that if Vamen is hoping to be out and about again, then he could do a lot worse than bump Merriweather off. Remember, he’s already tried twice.’
‘I’m sure he’d send some goons over to Merriweather like a shot if he knew where he was, but that location’s even more tightly guarded than the jury’s going to be at Vamen’s trial. Me, Flanagan and maybe three other people are the only ones who know where he’s being kept.’
I laughed. ‘Famous last words.’
We said our goodbyes, and I picked up the phone and dialled Woodham’s mobile. Although the press conference was still nearly three quarters of an hour away he was already at the New Scotland Yard building where most major Met Police press briefings take place. I told him what I’d found out and what had been discussed with Malik, and he told me he was still awaiting the warrants for Stegs.
‘I’ll chase them when I’ve finished the conference. I didn’t want to arrest him, particularly as he’s a copper,
