Unlike Dawlish, Norman Crouch did have a full licence and a comprehensive insurance policy that covered him to drive any other car with the owner’s consent. Of course, that didn’t entitle him to drive like a complete twat when he was three times over the legal limit and high on cannabis and cocaine. In addition to being charged with being unfit to drive through drink or drugs, he had also been charged with dangerous driving and failing to stop for police. Crouch had been fined heavily and banned from driving for two years.
At a separate trial, he had been convicted of possession of cocaine with intent to supply, and for that, he had received a two year prison sentence.
By the time of their trial, the evidence accrued against Charlie Dobson and his three skinhead mates for supplying firearms and ammunition had been damning.
In addition to the CCTV of them selling two Brocock revolvers to Garston and Heston, their fingerprints were all over the two converted weapons discovered in the safe and the equipment being used to convert the blank-firing replicas into real guns. The detailed ledger that Dobson had helpfully maintained had been treated with ninhydrin, and his prints had been found all over it.
Although he had refused to provide a handwriting sample during interview, alternative source material had been found during the search of his home address, in the form of letters he had written to his girlfriend while previously in prison. Subsequent comparisons by a qualified expert concluded that the writing in the ledger matched that in the signed letters and was unequivocally his.
All the spent shell casings recovered from the bucket in the lockup had been fingerprinted, a time-consuming process that ultimately led to all four suspect’s fingerprints being identified on numerous shells. Prints for Garston and Heston had also been found on several of them.
The results were then sent to the National Ballistics Intelligence Service and, after scrupulous examination, the hammer and striation marks were linked to weapons that had been used in three separate murders within the Greater London area during the previous year.
Dobson and his gang were all charged with a wider conspiracy to sell firearms and ammunition in addition to the other matter for which they were to stand trial. The case had been heard in July, and Dobson and his cronies had each been sentenced to twenty years imprisonment.
By the time that George Holland turned up, everyone was well on their way to being merry, and he helped matters along by getting in a round of drinks.
“Bloody nice of you to offer,” Kevin Murray slurred, wrapping his arm around Holland’s shoulder and treating him to a lopsided grin. “I’ll have a double scotch, no ice.”
“How’s the case against Craig Masters going?” Jack asked when Holland had got rid of Murray.
Holland chuckled. “It’s been put back so many times that I’m beginning to wonder if it will ever go to trial. The latest date they’ve given us is in October.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Jack asked.
“Availability of expert witnesses, would you believe. The defence want to rely on a particular specialist to support their death by misadventure claims, and this bloke isn’t available until then. There’s still a lot of behind the scenes discussion going on between the barristers about whether or not the Crown would be willing to accept a plea of manslaughter.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “What’s your view on that?”
Holland shrugged. “I wouldn’t necessarily be against it, but there would probably be an uproar from the victim’s family.”
By nine o’clock, most people were starting to flag, and they started disappearing in dribs and drabs. Holland, Quinlan, Lacroix and his junior were amongst the first to say their goodbyes and head for the door.
Tyler flopped down next to Kelly Flowers, who was sitting with Tony Dillon and his girlfriend, Emma Drew. Emma was a very attractive and bubbly girl who worked as a mortuary technician based at Poplar, and they had been seeing each other for about the same amount of time that Jack and Kelly had been dating.
Dillon was a terrible womaniser, and being with the same girl for this length of time was something of a record for him. To be fair, they seemed to have really hit it off, so much so that Tyler was beginning to suspect that there actually might be some longevity in this relationship after all. Then again, he reminded himself, this was Dillon he was talking about, so he would just have to wait and see.
“When are you two going to go public about the fact you’re a couple?” Dillon asked with a silly grin on his face.
Flowers started to giggle. They had been seeing each other for the best part of a year now, and she spent more time at his place than she did at her own, and Jack still insisted on keeping their relationship a secret.
The question made Tyler uncomfortable and he looked around to make sure that no one could overhear them. Luckily, everyone else was over by the bar.
“It’s not that simple,” he said, shrugging awkwardly. “I’d love to go public, but if George found out, he would probably make Kelly switch teams. I do feel bad about keeping the team in the dark, though,” he admitted, which caused Dillon and Kelly to crack up.
Jack stared at Emma who shrugged, and from the expression on her face, she was as bewildered as he was. “Have I said something funny?” he asked, wondering what was so hilarious.
“Jack,” Dillon said, wiping tears of laughter away from his eyes, “most of the team worked it out ages ago. It’s the worst kept secret on the command, and you seem to be the only person who doesn’t realise it’s common knowledge.”
Tyler looked from one laughing face to the other, unable to believe his ears. “Well, who told them?” he demanded, “because I certainly didn’t
