‘Not much in itself, but he used to do some modelling. Back then, he was a good-looking man, no money, but he always seemed to be able to find himself a woman. Some reckoned that some of them were paying him for his time.’
‘Prostitution?’
‘Escorting, more like. If he was, good on him.’
‘Not something either of us would have been paid for,’ Larry joked.
‘Not a chance,’ Seamus agreed, his empty glass pushed across the table.
‘Make that three,’ a voice from behind.
Larry looked up to see the menacing figure of Nicolae Cojocaru, a man that the detective inspector kept his distance from. Cojocaru, wanted in his home country of Romania for extortion and murder, but claiming immunity from deportation due to his notoriety back there not affording him a fair trial, walked tall in London. Even the police gave the man a wide berth, knowing full well that he kept a team of henchmen on hand.
It was only the third time that Larry had spoken to the man. The first was when Cojocaru had told him to back off on prosecuting another man, not that it had done any good, and Larry had not complied. But the man, according to the word on the street, had some dirt on the Romanian crime boss, and if he was incarcerated, then he might talk. Not that it was relevant now, but his first day in prison the man had had an unfortunate accident and was now dead and buried. The second time had been in the pub they were in now. Cojocaru had seen Larry sitting in his regular seat, and had made a disparaging comment about the police in general, and Larry in particular. On that occasion, Larry had stayed seated, and the man had moved on, evicted someone else from their spot close to the bar.
Cojocaru was a charmless man who ruled by intimidation and overt violence. Larry did not feel comfortable with him sitting alongside him, two of the gangster’s henchmen standing to their rear.
‘It wasn’t my people,’ Cojocaru said, leaning in Larry’s direction.
‘Not your style?’ Larry said sneeringly.
‘Now look here, Mr Policeman, I’ve sat here in an act of conciliation. Whoever was responsible, they frighten us.’
‘You’re a known criminal and not someone with a good reputation. Too many people have died around you. Why should we be discussing this matter?’
‘I keep my ears to the ground. I know that you’re someone who can be trusted. You want to solve this crime. I want those responsible out of here.’
‘There are some who would want you out as well.’
‘No doubt they would. I’m an honest businessman, although I’m a tough bastard. Those who get on my wrong side end up regretting it. You don’t want to be one, do you?’
‘Are you threatening a police officer?’
‘I don’t threaten. I say it as it is.’
‘Very well, Mr Cojocaru, what do you know about the shooting?’
‘My contacts tell me it was someone who was brought in from overseas and then flown out.’
‘But why? It makes no sense to be so visible.’
‘It sends a warning that whoever it is can act with impunity.’
‘Are you frightened?’ Larry asked.
‘Only a foolish man has no fear. Whoever it was could come back and finish the job.’
‘Why? And who was the target? Alphonso Abano doesn’t seem worth it.’
‘He wasn’t.’
‘The others are clean.’
‘Nobody’s clean, you know that. Everyone’s got skeletons, some criminal, some not, that they’d rather not be known.’
‘What do you want from me? I’m not going to look away while you maim and kill and ship your drugs into this country,’ Larry said.
‘Let’s just say that I’m an honest businessman who sees the neighbourhood going downhill.’
‘You can say it, I can’t. But I don’t want any escalation in crime. Tell me what you know, and we’ll agree to act civil to one another.’
Larry wasn’t sure, and ideally, he would have called his DCI for advice, but time was of the essence. He knew that men such as Cojocaru did not offer help often, and if the killer was an import, the Romanian, a swarthy man in his fifties, could assist.
‘Another time, you and I will not be having this conversation. Get in my way and you know what happens.’
‘A display of the rough justice from where you come from.’
‘Not much of a legal system either. It’s men such as me who maintain control, and fear’s a great motivator, a deterrent as well. Anyway, what we have is a Mafia-style killing. I’ve put the feelers out, and it’s not someone from Romania.’
‘You would have known in advance if it was?’
‘I would have stopped it if I had.’
‘Late at night, local tip?’
‘Inspector, don’t keep baiting me, or I’ll let you deal with this.’
‘Very well. Who was the target?’
‘I’ve heard about Hendry and his woman, Briganti as well. He came over from Italy, check him out, although I suppose you are.’
‘Complete dossiers are being prepared on all those who died. The question is, as you say, why kill them all? There’s nothing to be gained.’
‘There is. An overseas syndicate wanting to establish their mark in this country. The easiest way to frighten any who would get in their way is to show their dominance, their willingness to use violence.’
‘A threat to you?’
‘An honest businessman, as we’ve agreed.’
‘I forgot.’
‘Hypothetically, assuming I was what you think I am, that sort of person would be seriously worried.’
‘A bastard thing to do, killing innocent people.’
‘Nobody’s innocent. You’d learn that in my country. You’re either the one in control or you’re the flotsam, and of no consequence.’
Larry realised that the gangster had no concept of right or wrong, only in ensuring that he remained the most vicious crook in the area, the man that everyone else was
