‘Sheena Easton, right? “My baby gets the morning train.” Loved that one.’ ‘I do remember hearing the news, that someone had shot the Pope.’ ‘
The other two teams were luckier. The search of old TV footage and newspaper archives had yielded two unpublished photos of the early stages of the fire at the Windsor Castle, before Brock had arrived. They clearly showed two white men in black jackets, frozen in the action of running towards a black man who was staring at the flicker of flames visible through the pub window. When enhanced, the faces made a convincing match with those of Mark and Ivor Roach, and Joseph Kidd.
Bren and Tom’s team, meanwhile, going back through the Brown Bread shootings, had reinterviewed the Asian witness, Mr Singh, to the car theft outside his shop in 1986.
‘It was a beautiful car,’ he said, ‘a red Porsche 911, just like I used to dream about. A young blonde lady parked it right outside the shop. She was a looker, too, no mistake. She saw me standing in the shop doorway and gave me a lovely smile, then took off across the road to the hair salon over the way. Dad was in the back storeroom and he called out to me and I was about to go in when suddenly, quick as greased lightning, these two men appeared out of nowhere and went to the Porsche. One bent over the lock in the driver’s door and in two seconds he’d got it open. I was amazed, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. He got in, opened the passenger door, against the kerb, and the other man went to get in. I stepped forward and I said, quite politely,“Excuse me, sir. Is that your car?” The man was as close to me as you are, face plain as day, one foot still on the pavement. He looked at me for a moment, then at the shop behind me, then up and down the street, all very calm and deliberate, see? Then he took a gun out of his jacket pocket and pointed it at me, just like that . . .’ The man pointed his finger at Bren’s stomach. ‘I thought, I can’t believe this, it’s just like a film. Then he pressed the trigger. I didn’t feel the bullet go through me. I just passed out.’
The man’s recollection was so fluent that Bren was sceptical. ‘You seem to have a very clear memory of this, Mr Singh. It happened a long time ago.’
‘Have you ever been shot, Inspector? It was the biggest thing that ever happened to me. I had to go over it again and again, for the police, for my friends, for the newspapers, and then, afterwards, in my head and in my dreams, again and again.’
‘And you helped the police make an image of the man.’ Bren showed him the drawing of a scowling face that could have been anyone.
‘Yes. The other one’s face was a blank, but this one was vivid in my mind-it still is.’
‘Still, nearly twenty years later?’
‘Oh yes.You see, I saw him again, about eight years ago.’
‘I don’t have a record of that.’
‘No.’ The man looked sheepish. ‘I never reported it. My dad decided he wanted to get himself a new Volvo, so I went with him around the showrooms.We’d just walked into this one when I saw him, sitting there at the manager’s desk in a smart suit and tie. It hit me like a blow. I managed to turn and run, and when I got outside I was sick, sick as a dog, in the gutter. My dad had to take me home. I couldn’t get out of bed for days. I couldn’t tell the coppers about it. This is the first time I’ve talked to anyone, apart from Mum and Dad.’
‘Where was this showroom?’
‘Eltham. Roach Motors.’
Bren showed him a picture of Ricky Roach,son number three.
‘Oh my God. That’s him.’
Commander Sharpe was not comfortable. He twisted in his seat, twitched his narrow pointed nose, rubbed his long pianist’s fingers fretfully before he set Brock’s report back on the desk with care, as if it might draw blood.
‘You’re aware of the history of our dealings with Mr Roach, of course.’
‘Of course.’ Brock felt curiously free. The ship was now launched and others would want to have a hand in steering it. There was still much detective work to do, but others would have their say in that, too.
‘Looks fairly damning. Pretty obvious, I suppose, the Roaches. Cut-throat mob back then. Different story now, mind you. Penny bought her sports car at that showroom, dammit. Nearly had a fit when I saw the name on the invoice. Several of her smart friends buy their cars there, apparently. Action?’
‘We have no choice in the matter of Ricky Roach. A credible witness, a clear body of circumstantial evidence, a previous record.’
‘Mm.’
‘The same can be said of Mark and Ivor.We can place them in pursuit of Joseph Kidd on the night he was murdered. They have to be questioned.’
‘All a matter of identification, though, isn’t it? You say Mr Singh is credible?’
‘Credible but nervous. I’ve offered him protection, but he’s worried about his parents and his business. I’ve persuaded him that none of them will be safe until he helps us put Roach behind bars.’
‘And Ferguson?’
‘Solid.’
‘So the first step is identification parades, yes? Conducted by uniformed branch, of course.’ Sharpe took a breath, as if relieved that at least that would be out of his hands.‘Who do you suggest? Eltham?’
‘The offences took place in Lambeth.’
‘Of course, yes.You’ve heard of KCG Resources? They have mines, Canada and South America. Their shares are hot at the moment. Resources boom. The DCC told me to buy some. Safe bet, he said. The Roaches are major shareholders.Where do you buy your wine? Paramounts? They’ll have an off-licence down your way. One of the Roaches’ companies.’
‘I know it won’t be easy.’
‘And you seriously think that they were physically involved in the murder of those two kids recently? Wealthy, respectable men like they now are? It beggars belief.’
‘I think when faced with something personal they reverted to type. But I can only connect them to those murders through the gun that was used.We have to go for the old cases.’
‘But something else worries me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You, Brock.You’re not happy, are you?’
‘I know I’m right about the Roaches.’
‘But?’
‘But I know how slippery they are in a corner. I’m reluctant to show our hand until we’ve got a watertight case.The trouble is,we’re not going to get one without getting close to them and stirring them up. It’s all just too long ago. The evidence isn’t out there any more.’
‘Let’s get the question of identification sewn up, then we’ll talk again.’
Three days later Brock was summoned back to his boss’s office. This time Sharpe had a third person on hand, Virginia Ashe, prosecutor from the Crown Prosecution Service. She grinned and barked a greeting.
‘Brock! Good to see you again. How’s tricks?’
‘Fine, Virginia. Congratulations, I saw you on the news last week.’
‘Oh, that. But you’ve been beating me on airtime lately. Everybody loves a grizzly corpse; three old skeletons and two young girls is unbeatable. Absolutely royal flush.’
Sharpe broke in.‘Sit down,please.I’ve asked Virginia to assist us with our discussion, Brock.You’ve heard the results of the lineups? Three clear identifications. Fine, so we consider the next steps. Interview Mark and Ivor, I take it, warrants if necessary, and a warrant for the arrest of Ricky? You’ve read the summaries, Virginia.You agree?’
‘Ye-es, but we are on thin ice with the first two, don’t you think? I mean Brock has done brilliantly constructing a chain of evidence of their movements on that night, twenty-four years ago. Amazing really, but it doesn’t actually prove anything, does it? If they don’t want to cooperate, there’s not enough for a case to be brought for murder. Unless you could prove they still have the gun, say.Where is the gun, by the way? Does
