Eight minutes later, as PC Frank Edwards and his colleague arrived on the scene; they took a quick look at the victim on the stretcher being lifted into the ambulance. PC Edwards spoke briefly to the medics then watched as the vehicle disappeared into the night with the reflection of its flashing blue lights bouncing off nearby buildings.
Frank’s colleague PC Pauline Underwood walked over to the small crowd of people standing by the entrance to the Five Bells pub.
“Who dialled 999?” she asked looking at each person in turn and waiting for a response.
No one answered.
“Did anyone see what happened?”
Most avoided eye contact with her and looked down at the ground.
The man who worked behind the bar stepped forward. “We didn’t see anything. Everyone here was in the bar.”
“Did anyone see anyone suspicious inside the pub?”
The crowd remain silent. Most just shook their heads.
“Someone must have seen something to dial 999.”
The silence continued.
“Okay. Everyone please stay in the pub until I say you can leave.”
She walked back to the patrol car so she couldn’t be overheard on her radio phone. Pauline explained the situation to the operator in the police control room and requested a Senior Officer and a Scene of Crime team to attend.
With no one prepared to give a statement, even though she was in no doubt most of them had seen something, there was little left she could do except wait until the requested backup arrived to take over.
PC Frank Edwards brought his colleague up to date with the condition of the victim. “I had a few words with the ambulance crew. The guy’s in bad shape. His head is pretty much caved in. They don’t hold out much hope. Poor bastard, I hope he enjoyed his pint. It was probably the last one he’ll ever taste. Someone will have to inform his family. The medic said unless he gets a lucky break he’s unlikely to make it through the night.”
Chapter Nine
A HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL YEAR - 2018
Since the seven-figure cash injection into his bank account in early 2017, Peter Winston-Moore had enjoyed the best year of his life. And so far, it looked like 2018 was set to be even better.
A healthy bank balance meant he could buy and sell at a much higher level, at a level he thought more suited his status.
With the money from the New York auction and the sale of the property in south London, Peter had opened a small art and antique gallery in Shoreditch, one of the up and coming areas in east London.
And he had purchased a luxury two-bedroomed apartment not far from Chelsea for himself and Norman.
To buy the gallery and get it up and running had cost £1.25 million. The Dulwich shop and apartment had fetched £450,000 and Peter had added a further £800,000 from his bank account.
Opening a gallery in such an area was already proving to be highly profitable as he could now add an extra zero to the price of just about everything he sold. What he liked was the fact that what most of his clients knew about art could be written on the back of a postage stamp.
The idea from Martin Young the stamp dealer about using full-colour leaflets continued to be a goldmine for discovering new stock. Picking up items for what he liked to call ‘chump change’ and then selling them to people with more money than taste was proving to be highly addictive.
Every time he attended an Antiques Fair he would return with a range of new items that had been purchased for a song. Each piece would then be beautifully displayed in the Shoreditch gallery and sold for a vast profit. Where possible, Peter liked to sell items for ten times the price he paid.
And what made Peter laugh was the fact all of Peter’s competitors were talking behind his back, trying to figure it out but they didn’t have a clue. Yes indeed, just a few weeks in and already 2018, was proving to be a highly successful year.
Having just returned from a meal at their favourite restaurant Norman and Peter were sitting in their living room having just watched the ten o’clock news.
“You look very pensive. What are you thinking about?” asked Norman.
“Nothing really, I guess I’m a little pent up. I just want the ‘rush’ of finding something worth a fortune and grabbing it from right under someone’s nose without them realising it. Like when I found The Picasso.”
“To discover another item that sells for big bucks. It’s not really about the money anymore. I know we are making an extremely good living the way things are but I just need to feel that 'hit' again.”
“Don’t worry, lover. I know you. You won’t rest until you find it. I’m sure something will turn up soon.” said Norman.
Of course Peter could 'afford' to pay fair prices but it was the thrill of the chase that made it so enjoyable to pay the minimum he could get away with.
If people didn’t know the value of what they had for sale it wasn’t his fault. The suckers deserved it. If he didn’t rip them off then someone else probably would!
Before he’d met Martin and discovered the door-to-door leaflet system, Peter had found new items to sell in the same way as most dealers source their stock, by attending auctions. The problem was they were bidding against other dealers, or sometimes members of the public who might be prepared to pay more as they were not buying the items to make a profit. The other way was to buy from within the trade. And often these deals were done between the dealers while attending an auction.
In the TV series Lovejoy, you would always see him attending a local auction in the hope of discovering a valuable antique that had been
