The two men, one black, the other white, sat down at a desk and spoke about old times, out on the beat, training, and what life had brought them both. Braxton, married with three children; Isaac, still single and hoping for the patter of little feet one day. Isaac could see that the man, a similar age to him, looked older by at least five years, but then, Braxton was a smoker and a drinker, and Isaac was neither, apart from the occasional social drink or when he was meeting with villains, as he had that day.
‘Nicolae Cojocaru, slippery bugger,’ Braxton said. ‘We’ve been watching him, but he plays the game well. Apart from the deaths that occurred in his name, none proven, he maintains a low profile. We suspect him of being a major player in importing illicit drugs into this country, but he uses middlemen. Men who don’t know who the others are, except over a phone, and the points of entry into the country change. And if they’re storing the goods for any length of time, a factory unit on a weekly or monthly hire. With no actual contact linking back to Cojocaru, we can’t prove anything.’
‘How about his bank accounts?’
‘We managed to gain access to one in the UK, but the money was legit. If he’s being paid, it’s offshore. The money moving around can’t be spent that quickly, anyway.’
‘Any reason?’
‘What can you buy with it? A castle in Scotland, a Greek Island, a fleet of Rolls Royces?’
‘Cojocaru lives well,’ Isaac said.
‘He’s got enough businesses and property in London to justify his lifestyle. The man even pays taxes.’
Isaac realised that Braxton was expressing a personal view on the distribution of wealth. He thought it a naïve outlook for a man working in Serious and Organised Crime. Men such as Cojocaru, Isaac knew only too well, were not satisfied with sufficient; they wanted all they could get, a way of keeping score.
‘He can’t be the only player in this country,’ Isaac said.
‘He’s not, but he concerns us more than the others. And he’s been dealing with the Russians, but you must know that,’ Braxton said.
‘We do, but we’re Homicide, not Serious and Organised Crime. If someone’s murdered we’re there, but drug smuggling and whatever else goes on in our patch is of interest, but not our primary focus. Briganti’s is murder. Otherwise, it’s up to you, and you’re telling me you can’t pin the man down.’
Not entirely true,’ Braxton said, irritated by the impertinence of someone from Challis Street, not the prestigious surroundings of New Scotland Yard.
‘Sorry if I’m blunt, but I’ve just spent time with the man in question, and he gave us the runaround, gave us a name.’
‘Everyone thinks we’ve got it easy,’ Braxton said. ‘They know who the criminals are, so they expect us to go out there and arrest them. But it doesn’t work like that, you know that. Cojocaru can afford the best legal advice, and the prosecution, good men and women, are paid by you and me out of our taxes. This is not Romania or Russia or the Middle East where these ratbags come from. We can’t just go and pick them up, put on a show trial, slam them in prison or make them disappear. We’re accountable, and they know it. No doubt they have a good laugh at our ineffectiveness, but that’s the way it is.’
‘We have the same problem,’ Isaac said. ‘What about Stanislav Ivanov? Cojocaru gave me his name.’
‘What do you know about the Russian mafia?’ Braxton asked. An air of cordiality existed between the two men.
‘Not a lot, other than they’re organised and dangerous.’
‘That’s it. They are exceptionally well-organised, and they regard crime as a business, not as anything dishonest, and now, in Russia with so much corruption, they’re thriving. Ivanov heads the Tverskoyskaya Bratva, one of the most influential of the crime gangs.’
‘What does the name mean?’
‘Tverskoy is a district in Moscow. Skaya translates as belonging to. The Tverskoyskaya Bratva was formed in Tverskoy. Most of the mafia gangs take the name of the place where they were formed or where they’re based. Bratva, I assume you know what that means.’
‘The Brotherhood, although not much brotherly love from what I’ve heard.’
‘None at all, and if you’re a member and in trouble, you’re hauled before their executive. If found guilty punishment is swift. No chance of an appeal with them, no right of reply.’
‘Tough justice,’ Isaac said.
‘Don’t feel sorry for whoever’s on the receiving end. They’re bad news, and so far, we’ve kept them out, but now, if it’s Stanislav Ivanov, we’ve got trouble.’
‘Tell me about him?’
‘He’s well known in this country. Fifty-two, educated in Moscow at the Lomonosov University. A master’s degree in economics, a bachelor’s in English. The man speaks flawless English. No convictions against him and he has a dacha outside of Moscow, heavily fortified.’
‘Protection?’
‘Men such as Ivanov get neurotic about their own importance. He’s only in charge as long as there are no pretenders to the throne in the wings.’
‘Where does Cojocaru fit into all this?’
‘We’re not sure. He wouldn’t be a pretender, and he’s only a small cog in the wheel. But he’s a weak point, and the Russians are making a move.’
‘Any proof?’
‘We have our sources in this country and overseas. Not that the locals know any more than we do, but overseas there is a power struggle between the various mafia gangs in Russia.’
‘I’m interested in solving the murders. The possible incursion of the Russians only concerns me if it has some bearing, if it will precipitate more murders.’
‘It will, you can be sure of that.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘Prayer might help. What we really need is for Cojocaru to open up. He does not intend to allow anyone to come
