‘It’s the Russians,’ Cojocaru said.
‘None of our contacts have confirmed that,’ Becali said.
‘Your contacts are just the minnows, mine are the sharks.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I need to meet with them.’
‘But why? If they don’t like what you say, you don’t return.’
‘We need a neutral location where I’m safe.’
‘In London?’
‘Here’s as good as anywhere.’
‘But what do they want? We take whatever they send to us.’
‘There’s a bumper crop in Afghanistan of opium poppies. It’ll drive down the price, and the Russians don’t want to ship more to maintain their margin, they want to increase their profits.’
‘But how?’ Becali said.
‘They’ll go through England and Europe taking out whoever opposes them, drop the price of the drug, ensure more addicts, and then bring up the price. The strategy is good, the only problem is that they want to cut us out.’
‘They’ve always hated us,’ Antonescu said.
‘They hate Romanians as much as we hate Russians. What’s new? We can still do business with them.’
‘How did you find out their plans?’
‘Yuri Aliyev.’
‘He’s our primary contact with the Russian mafia?’
‘Bratva if you want to use their Russian name. And yes, Aliyev has served us well, ensured that the shipments arrive on time and the quality is good.’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘Aliyev is one of them. He can’t be trusted, but business is business. I need to convince those in their senior hierarchy that we are the best option.’
‘Are we?’
‘We have to be.’
‘This meeting with the police, are we prepared?’ Becali said. ‘What will you tell them?’
‘I will judge at the time how much they need to know and how much we confuse them. We weren’t responsible for Briganti’s, and I don’t want them trying to pin that on us.’
‘You don’t intend to tell them it was the Russians who shot up the hairdresser’s?’
‘I may hint, I may not.’
‘Are you sure it’s the Russians?’
‘Aliyev is the messenger. He could have lied. He may not even know the truth. A loyal lieutenant, no more, the same as you two. Now, what do we have to confuse the police and to give us time to negotiate with the Russians?’
Chapter 9
Isaac paced around Homicide; his team were letting him down, which meant that his leadership was not up to par, and he had seniors to answer to. Not only was DCS Goddard looking for results, so was Commissioner Alwyn Davies, and he was not a man to take no for an answer, let alone an ‘I don’t know’.
And that was precisely what the man had received from Goddard, although couched in police jargon, and now Goddard was in Isaac’s office, and he wasn’t looking happy.
Unable to avoid the confrontation, Isaac entered his office, a perfunctory shaking of hands before sitting down.
‘Isaac, you’re stuffing around on this one. A man can’t just walk into a hairdresser’s, shoot the place up, and then walk out of the door and down the street. Hell, he could have been sat across the road, a cappuccino in front of him, a cream bun in his mouth, having a laugh at you, at us.’
‘We interviewed everyone in the vicinity. He wasn’t there.’
‘If this is someone from outside the country, then it’s organised crime. Have you contacted Serious and Organised Crime Command?’
‘I have. They’re looking at that angle. Although, if it’s the Russians, what happened is not their normal modus operandi in this country.’
‘That’s what’s worrying everyone, even Davies. In the confines of this room, the man’s a fool, but then we’re both agreed on that. We answer to him, he answers to the politicians, the prime minister, the general public. If there’s to be an upsurge in violent crime, he intends to stamp it out ASAP, with your help and mine, or without.’
‘Has he threatened?’
‘Not in as many words, but we know what happened last time. We’ve been out on our ears before, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Returning me to Challis Street must have stuck in his throat when he issued the directive, and the man doesn’t forget. And if you hadn’t arrested the damn woman, being stabbed for your troubles, receiving a commendation for meritorious service, then you’d be out on the beat, back in uniform.’
‘We brought the woman in,’ Isaac said by way of defence. He realised that it was a lame response, but it was the only one he had. Goddard was right, Isaac knew that, but what could he say. Serious and Organised Crime Command was running with the information provided so far, including a detailed analysis of Nicolae Cojocaru and his organisation. Not that they had to do much as the man was well known to them.
And as for the others in Briganti’s that fateful day, Guy Hendry’s body had been released and buried, a moving ceremony according to the evening news on the television channel which had covered it, as well as a one-hour documentary on the life and times of the man.
Isaac had watched it at home with Jenny, his latest girlfriend, a willowy part-time model from a small town to the south of London, as white as he was black. One friend had commented that the two of them together was like a rerun of the Black and White Minstrel Show, popular in the sixties on television. Isaac had taken it in jest, Jenny had not, and the friend was now off the Christmas card list, and not welcome at the flat that Isaac and Jenny shared.
The documentary on Hendry, the subject of a meeting in the office the following day, had emphasised the man’s achievements, the charities he supported, loved by his colleagues. It had not dwelt on his female conquests, only to say that he was beloved by many, male
