Influence (23 page)

A Cool Exterior Now Departed

Chapter Thirty four

Drayson smirked as he scrolled through the details of Sykes' murder on the incident logs. By now he had been made fully aware of his demise and the circumstances. Sure Foster may have gone a little over the top but it had made the murder appear like a crime of hate as opposed to the professional execution of Pearson, Drayson reflected. His eyes continued to roll down the incident log and paperwork until he saw a number plate and a potential suspect; it was Foster! Drayson dropped his head into his hands as he fought off the urge to throw up over his desk. If anyone arrested Foster now, it would all be over as there would be three witnesses ready to act against him. Foster still had Bradford and Cooper left to kill but with the whole of the Force wanting to question him, it was looking highly doubtful whether he could finish the job.

Drayson sat at his desk struggling to hold back the tears that were attempting to force their way out of the ducts in his eyes. Things had taken a colossal turn for the worse because of one perverted dogger waiting in his car for a hand job that night. The chances of a witness seeing Foster's car, and a number plate too for that matter, were slim to none; and yet it had happened. He pulled himself together and snapped into action by calling Bradford who upon answering began to scream blue murder after learning about Sykes. Drayson told him that he would see him at the warehouse that night and he would bring all the information he had collated about the Russian syndicates who were moving into the area. At first Bradford told him that the only place he would meet Drayson was at his home where he was safe. Drayson refused, reminding him that it was too risky as someone could see him, implicating the both of them. The two men continued to argue about what they were going to do next until Drayson yelled at Bradford, expressing to him how he had never let him down before and to trust him. Bradford replied that he didn't trust anyone to which Drayson responded by imploring him to meet him at the warehouse with Cooper where they would get this mess sorted once and for all.

Bradford begrudgingly agreed and finished the call by stating that if Drayson didn't get the situation sorted as soon as possible, he would have him sorted out for good; one way or another. As Bradford hung up, Drayson threw his phone across the room and swiped the flowers and stationery off his table in sheer anger. As the loud smash of the vase rung out, his assistant came rushing in and asked him whether he was ok, to which Drayson bellowed at her to mind her own fucking business and to get out of his office. He fell back into his seat and loosened his tie before looking down at his desk and then opening the top drawer. Inside, a large bottle of extremely strong Tramodol painkillers that he had been previously prescribed for back pain was staring back at him. As the lump in his throat grew larger, making it hard for him to swallow, Drayson placed the bottle in his pocket. If Foster was caught before Bradford or Cooper were dead or before he had a chance to give him the spiked drugs, he would take matters into his own hands and end it all; suicide was a better option than facing the shame of being outed as a dirty copper and consequently brutalised in prison. However for now, Drayson would have to sit by and painfully wait to see whether everything would play out in his favour!

He looked out of the window in his office, sensing that the end could be nigh, before he heard a beep come from his computer that indicated an email had arrived. He opened it and read through its contents. As if things couldn't get much worse.............it was a message from another Command officer reminding him that he had agreed to cover their Gold Commander shift that night. Drayson shook his head with despair, he was running out of ideas fast, and having to pull a late turn shift until one am in the morning was the very last thing he needed. Things were beginning to look gloomy!

Influence

Chapter Thirty Five

Anaura and Richards walked into the Shoreton office after their less than successful trip to West Ording. Richards asked Usher and Valera whether they'd had any luck with the Gang's personal history, both of the detectives shook their heads and Valera remarked how they could not find anything other than what was already common knowledge. Anaura sat down and looked at his watch, it was four pm. Apart from partly dispelling the myth that Foster may have been the Gang's dirty copper, they had wasted hours watching his home and banging on his doors in vain. It had not been the day he had hoped for; a common theme throughout the entire operation.

Richards looked at his weary friend and suggested that they get a team takeaway at six as it was more than likely that they would be working into the evening due to the Gang's potential meeting at the warehouse. Anaura agreed but hypothesised that it was a little unlikely that Bradford and Cooper would still go considering that another of their associates had been found murdered too. Richards agreed but joked that if they were going to get thrown off the case they might as well use a bit more of the operational funds to have a decent send off. Anaura smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Three hours later with sufficiently bloated stomachs the four detectives sat watching the TV in the lounge and feeling sympathy for the Intel officers who were likely to be living off sandwiches and crisps. The conversation had generally been light hearted until Valera enquired whether her and Usher would be able to return to Vice with him and Richards. Anaura replied that Op Spear was likely to be shut down after Friday as two of the Gang had been killed and the investigation hadn't really uncovered any hard evidence or success over and above what had previously been achieved by SOCU. Both the female officers commented that it might not have come off, but at least they'd had some fun doing it. As the conversation began to dry up and the four of them watched the television, Valera suddenly asked Anaura for the real reason why he had been thrown off the case as the operation had not been that much of a failure. Richards glanced over at him to see whether he was going to say the real reason. Anaura took a deep breath before he asked the two detectives whether they could keep a secret. They both nodded so he proceeded to tell them how he and Richards had been tipped off that there was a bent copper working for the Gang and that he had told Drayson. The information combined with a few flawed operational decisions had incensed Drayson and lead to him being thrown of the operation for incompetence.

The two detectives pulled frustrated expressions as they heard Anaura say the word incompetent, as it was not a term that was generally synonymous with him or his work. In response, Usher remarked that she thought Drayson was a complete nobber and how he probably just wanted to prevent Anaura from getting all the glory when he eventually cracked the case. Anaura smiled and commented that he had still made some bad decisions, and that Drayson had just capitalised on them. Usher then asked whether they believed it was Foster who had been working for the Gang to which Richards replied that they didn't and although he was the murder suspect, something did not add up and that they strongly suspected someone else was involved too. Usher looked confused and enquired why Foster would kill the Gang for no reason if he wasn't linked to them. Richards just shook his head and explained that they didn't have all the answers but they would find them.

Anaura stood up and stated that they should get back to work as the Intel officers would be coming on the radio imminently to start running a commentary on any suspicious activity that might be happening at the warehouse. He then also cited that he needed time to figure out how to use the CCTV monitor that relayed what the Intel officers were seeing through their cameras. Before they left the lounge, Valera asked whether he or Richards were going to inform PSD about what Poultan had said, both of them nodded in response. She then asked whether they had told Drayson about the Observation Post as he was the duty Gold Commander and would hit the roof if it was kept from him. Richards burst out laughing as Anuara raised his eyebrows, neither of them had known that he was the duty Commander that night. Being the duty Force command officer, he would have to be informed about any such operations during his shift. In the haze of the situation with Foster they had totally forgotten that they still hadn't updated him or Steiner about the Observation Post.

Anaura remarked with laughter how he had better call Drayson or he would be kicked out the 'Job' forever.

“Sir, are you free to speak?” Anaura asked Drayson over the phone.

“Yeah, what do you want?” was his obnoxious reply.

“I'm pretty sure you've heard about Foster by now. Well I'm not sure he's the only one involved in this?” Anaura said.

“Not this fucking shit again!!! Look, Foster's nuts, he went mental after killing Mahood and Op Barrier. And as I see it he's going around killing people he considers to be 'bad men' because he's lost touch with reality!

“Change the bloody record unless you've got some evidence to the contrary!” He replied in an angry voice.

“Fine, maybe you're right, but I don't agree with that theory. Anyway; the main reason I've called you is to tell you that we've set up an Observation Post in Basin Road South after our Intel officers managed to identify where Cooper had gone when Surveillance lost him!”

“YOU DID WHAT?!! ON WHOSE AUTHORITY? CALL IT OFF NOW!” Drayson yelled down the line.

“I gave the authority! They are in position now sir, how can I call it off? Anyway, I don't see what the problem is. The Intel lot have managed to learn more in one day than Surveillance did in two weeks, and they're now placed right where the Gang may be operating their business from, so what's your problem with this?” Anaura asked with annoyance as he started to reach the end of his tether with Drayson.

“MY PROBLEM IS THAT SOMEONE LIKE YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN RUNNING THIS CASE FROM THE START. WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO ANAURA?”

“Right, I'm getting a little tired of you busting my eardrum from the other end of the line, if you want more details come down to the office. And if you want to know what else we've done, I'll tell you! Earlier today, Ian and I attended the Cliffe Pub in West Ording where we acquired some information about Foster meeting up with an unknown male prior to this operation starting and prior to the killings. It's possible that it's the dirty copper that you don't believe exists!” Anaura said growing angrier by the second.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STICKING YOUR NOSE INTO MY MURDER INVESTIGATION? I'M GOING TO HAVE YOU DISCIPLINED, DO YOU FUCKING HEAR THAT? I'LL RUIN YOU, YOU PRIMITIVE TRIBAL BASTARD!!!” Drayson yelled.

“AH FUCK OFF YOU ABSOLUTE DICK, I'VE HEARD ENOUGH!!!” Anaura said as he slammed down the phone with a lot of force.

Richards looked at him with shock and asked whether he had just said to Drayson what he thought he said. Anaura nodded in confirmation. Richards then began pleading with Anaura to reassure him that Drayson had already hung up when he swore at him, Anaura shook his head. Richards buried his face in his hands and asked what he had been thinking, telling a man who would be Assistant Chief to go forth and multiply. Anaura replied that in all honesty, he didn't care anymore and that he'd had just about endured as much of Drayson as he could, even more so when the arsehole had started coming out with racist jibes. Richards asked what he had said so Anaura explained. When Richards began saying that he should make a complaint, Anaura simply replied that he would probably just hit him whenever he next saw him. As Richards continued reeling from what had been said over the phone call, Anaura paused deep in thought before asking him if he found Drayson's reaction to the update a little strange and over the top. Richards replied that Drayson had always been a bit of a hot head when he didn't get his own way and enquired why he had asked. Anaura shrugged his shoulders and commented that he just thought Drayson seemed to over react to anything to do with the operation he was not fully aware of first. Anaura smiled and then said “Never mind, just thinking out loud.” before asking Richards to help him set up the CCTV monitor that he was failing miserably to set up.

In his Central District Station office Drayson was going ballistic, throwing his stuff around in a rage and smashing anything that was to hand. Anaura had as good as buried him. The Observation Post would spot Foster and call for support to arrest him, possibly before he even got to kill Bradford and Cooper. He would then inevitably tell them what he was up to and who had ordered him to do it. The next monumental problem was that the Landlord had seen him speaking to Foster and that Anaura was now obsessed with discovering the identity of the man, namely him.

Drayson removed the bottle of Tramadol from his pocket, emptied the tablets out and opened them one by one, spilling the capsules contents onto his desk. From his desk, he removed a bottle of whiskey that had been bought for him by his assistant and that he had 'forgotten' to take home. Drayson poured a pint of whiskey and the put the glass below the edge of the desk, he then brushed the powdered remains of the hundred capsules into it, allowing the powder to mix with the spirit and settle at the bottom of the tumbler. He took a sip of the cocktail with tears in his eyes and switched on the operations channel he knew the Observation Post would be using. If Foster failed and was arrested he would down the concoction and drive himself the short distance to the City's Marina where he would jump into the water and inevitably drown in his intoxicated state. Drayson took another swig of the whiskey and rested his head sideways on his desk. He would soon learn what his fate was to be.

Fifteen miles to the west, Foster woke up in his car which was parked up in the Cissbury Hill car park that was at the foot of large set of rolling hills and countryside just north of West Ording. After incessant banging on his front door over the previous couple of days, Foster knew he needed to be somewhere else and especially after he had seen two detectives knocking on his door when he had entered the road in his car. On seeing them Foster did a three point turn in the road and drove up as quickly as he could. Now lying flat on the back seats, Foster rubbed his face roughly as if trying to wipe away the grogginess and looked at his watch. It was eight thirty, less than two and a half hours away until show time and the beginning of his fresh start and career. The only thing that concerned him was the emerging but still slightly vague recollection that he had assaulted the owner of the wallet outside the Cliffe pub for reasons that still eluded him. After putting two and two together he knew full well why the town's police and two detectives were after him as he was now a robbery suspect after taking the wallet. Foster just hoped that Drayson could sort it for him and it would not cause a problem for his career. He clambered off the back seat and out his car before brushing himself off and walking down to a chip shop he knew in the nearby parade of shops. He had a few hours to burn and spending them hungry was not going to help them pass.

An hour later and what had seemed like an eternity of fiddling, Anaura had finally managed to set up the CCTV relay in his office despite his agitated state. The way Drayson had spoken to him earlier in the evening had really wound him to no end but he knew he needed to take a step back and calm down because if Drayson walked in and started shouting the odds, it would result in Anaura being arrested for assault.

“O.P to DI Anaura, O.P to DI Anaura?” Crane called over the radio from the Observation Post.

Anaura and Drayson in their respective offices grabbed their radios.

“Go ahead Mark.” Anaura said.

“Boss we've just had a black Range Rover pull up with Bradford and Cooper inside, and a red Vauxhall Corsa, but we can't identify the two occupants of it yet. Standby.”

“We need a swift identification of the occupants! The monitor isn't providing a clear feed.” Anuara said.

“OK, one of the occupants of the Corsa has got out and is approaching Bradford; it's Poultan! Still can't ID the other vehicle's occupant.

Richards shook his head and said to Anaura that they should never have believed Poultan about his lack of involvement with the Gang. He huffed and replied “That's just the game we play!”

“Boss, can you hear what's being said over the microphone?” Crane asked.

Anaura slapped the side of the screen and complained to Richards, Usher and Valera how police equipment always seemed to fail when you needed it the most. Anaura responded to Crane, telling him that he couldn't and asked him to relay what was being said between the men. Crane said that Bradford was telling Poultan that he didn't trust their police friend and that it was time to have a chat with him. He then relayed that Bradford had said to Poultan that he would make him a very wealthy man if he did a big job for them. Anaura desperately enquired whether he had mentioned any names or specifics about what he wanted him to do. Crane replied “Negative” as their listening equipment was struggling to provide clear sound. Anaura sat back in frustration.

“Poultan's leaving in the Corsa with the unidentified male.” Crane said.

Richards asked whether he wanted him picked up, Anaura shook his head and remarked that at that point they did not know what he had been asked to do and how it would be more prudent to get a Surveillance team on him the next day. Anaura then turned to Richards and asked him to get Inspector Balham on the line to request that a couple of firearms units be present and available at Central District should the need for them arise. Richards asked if he believed that something was going to go down to which Anaura said that he didn't know but that something just didn't feel right.