Brookes smiled.
‘
I thought it was time we met. Detective Superintendent John Brookes. I
’
m the man who
’
s looking into your criminal enterprises.
’
‘
You cheeky fucker; is that supposed to scare me?
’
Brookes shook his head.
‘
No, I think you
’
re too thick to realise the trouble you
’
re in.
’
Silver leant forward and poked his finger hard into Brookes
’
chest.
‘
Don
’
t you come in here mouthing off at me, you prick, I eat cunts like you for breakfast.
’
He moved to take another poke at Brookes
’
chest. A moment later, he was kneeling on the floor, writhing in pain. His right forefinger was clasped in Brookes
’
hand, being bent back almost to the point of breaking. He uttered a deep groan.
Brookes smiled down at him.
‘
That
’
s assault on police. It will do for a start. You are under arrest, Mr Silver.
’
He then went on to read the caution. Then he looked sideways at Middlemiss.
‘
Call for the van, Fred, we
’
ve got us a live one.
’
Looking up, he saw Gerrard and Foulds confronting the two bouncers, who had moved forward.
Brookes raised his voice;
‘
If you two also want a night in the cells, keep coming.
’
The two men were obviously in a dilemma; they wanted to help their boss but dare not.
Brookes looked down at Silver.
‘
Now I
’
m going to let go of your finger. If you make one move towards me or any of my officers, you will oblige me to hurt you. Is that understood?
’
Silver looked up at him and tried to look hard. But he was in too much pain. After a moment
’
s defiance he nodded. As he scrambled to his feet, he was grabbed by Middlemiss, who had produced a pair of handcuffs and neatly slotted one onto Silver
’
s right wrist. Pulling that arm behind Silver
’
s back, he manoeuvred the man
’
s left arm there and slotted the other cuff to that wrist.
A few minutes later, the entrance door opened and two uniformed officers entered. Seeing the scene in front of him, the elder of the two smiled and moved forward.
Brookes recognised him and nodded a greeting.
‘
Take this man to City Road nick, please, he
’
s been arrested for assault on police. I
’
ll follow you in my car; I
’
m the arresting officer.
’
The PC
’
s eyebrows rose.
‘
Yes, guv.
’
He and the other PC led Silver away. He had gone strangely quiet.
The crowd of men at the bar had watched everything with interest; they cheered as Silver was frog-marched off. Whoever they were, they seem to have enjoyed the entertainment, thought Brookes.
*
‘
What matters is what works.
’
Late 20
th
century saying
In the car on the way to City Road Police Station, Middlemiss said,
‘
Where did you learn that one, boss?
’
Brookes smiled, keeping his eyes on the road.
‘
Strangely enough it wasn
’
t from a kung fu film; it was on a self-defence course. It works a treat, doesn
’
t it, Fred? Provided you catch him by surprise. I hate to think what might have happened if I
’
d missed his finger.
’
Middlemiss laughed.
‘
Remind me never to poke you in the chest, boss; that looked bloody painful.
’
‘
It certainly brought him down to size, which was the point of the exercise. It
’
ll be interesting to see how he behaves in the magistrates
’
court in the morning.
’
Arriving at City Road Police Station, Brookes parked the car in the yard and led the way into the charge room. Silver was sitting on a bench bolted to the wall, put there for prisoners awaiting charging. The handcuffs had been removed, but a burly uniformed constable stood beside him. Silver gave Brookes what he no doubt thought was a hard look.
Brookes ignored it and spoke to the custody sergeant. He said,
‘
I am the arresting officer, this is DS Middlemiss, who is a witness. Give me ten minutes to make my notes then I want him charged with assault on police. I
’
m not injured so there
’
s no need to call the divisional surgeon. Unless he complains about his right forefinger, that is. I had to restrain him from poking me in the chest with it. He was swearing and abusive. Once he
’
s charged you may want to keep him in a cell overnight until he cools down a bit.
’
The custody sergeant nodded, trying hard not to smile.
Hearing this, Silver stood up angrily, only to be pushed back down again by the uniformed PC guarding him. He was an inch taller than Silver, equally as well-built, and considerably younger.
Silver shouted,
‘
You can
’
t fucking do this to me, I want a lawyer.
’
Brookes looked at him.
‘
Of course; the sergeant here will make sure you get your phone call, just give him the man
’
s number.
’
An hour later, Brookes and Middlemiss had made their notes, read the details of the incident to the custody officer, and stood by whilst the man was charged. He was then allowed to make a phone call before being put in a cell for the night. Unless he was bailed, which was unlikely to happen at that time of night as finding a judge to hear the appeal would be difficult, he would be collected by prison van the next morning and taken to Thames Magistrates
’
Court.
Brookes dropped Middlemiss at Leman Street to collect his car then drove the short distance to Lynne
’
s home in Limehouse. She had insisted he go there when he
’
d finished work regardless of the time. It was 1am when he arrived there and he tried not to wake her as he slid into bed beside her.
The next morning, his alarm went off at 6.30am as usual and he woke with a start. Getting up still feeling weary, he carried out his toilet, dressed, and made coffee. Lynne joined him while it was brewing, which was unusual for her as she was not a morning person. Rubbing her eyes, she sat on a kitchen stool opposite him.
She said,
‘
Well, how did it go?
’
He smiled grimly.
‘
I ended up having to arrest him. He got aggressive, poking me in the chest.
’
‘
Surely you can
’
t arrest him for that?
’
He lifted his tie and opened two buttons of his shirt and pointed. There was a small bruise in the middle of his chest just below the level of his shoulders.
‘
That
’
s what
he
was thinking. He was trying to bully me. It seems because he
’
s a bully and a big guy with a lot of power and a heavy brigade to back him up, he usually gets away with it. But not this time. Now we
’
ll have some fun in the magistrates
’
court.
’
‘
That
’
s what I was thinking; won
’
t he make a fool of you, arresting him for such a small thing?
’
‘
That depends on how I give the evidence. The magistrate at Thames Magistrates
’
Court is a stipendiary and won
’
t stand for any nonsense.
’
Lynne frowned.
‘
What do you mean, a stipendiary?
’
‘
Well, there
’
s two kinds of magistrate. A lot of courts have a bench of lay magistrates; that means they are people from the community who do it voluntarily. They have a clerk to advise them on the law. But in some of the busier courts they have a qualified lawyer who does it full time; these tend to be hard-line as they operate in areas where the courts are busier and see some of the worst kind of criminals; that
’
s what this one is.
’
Lynne had a coffee with him and they chatted about other things for ten minutes. Then he kissed her and left to wait for his lift. Brigid arrived to pick him up just as he stepped onto the pavement outside.
*
At 8am, his team were assembled in the incident room at Leman Street Police Station. There was a buzz in the room as word of Silver
’
s arrest circulated among the detectives. When Brookes called them to order, he got several approving glances. It wasn
’
t often someone of his rank got involved in a violent confrontation and even rarer that they handled themselves so professionally. It didn
’
t do his reputation any harm at all.
He called them to order,
‘
Let
’
s get started. First, who spoke to the collator?
’
Liz Foreman waved her notebook.
He nodded.
‘
OK, Liz. Tell us what he had to say about Silver.
’
‘
He
’
s got plenty of form, sir. Starting as a juvenile. He was arrested four times for taking and driving away, twice for shoplifting, three times for burglary, then finally for GBH, which put him in an approved school. All before his eighteenth birthday. Then he did a year for another GBH and two more for robbery. Since then he
’
s been arrested several times but never been convicted; either the witnesses have chickened out or some clever lawyer has got him off on some technicality.
’
She looked at Brookes.
‘
Go on, Liz.
’
She nodded.
‘
But everyone knows he
’
s a villain and well at it. Collator says he has a Rolls which he keeps in a garage near the club. Doesn
’
t use it much but his personal bodyguard always wears a chauffer
’
s hat when he does take him out for a run. It
’
s a standing joke among the locals, Silver thinks he
’
s Lord Muck. Not that they laugh in his face, mind you. He
’
d punch their teeth down their throats if they did, or worse. I
’
ve got a list of his gang members the collator gave me; there are some real hard-cases on the list.
’
‘
Good, well done, Liz. Give the list to DI Short, he
’
ll make us all copies. Now what about the make-up of his gang, who was looking into that?
’
Stumpy Gerrard put his hand up.
‘
Me, boss.
’
‘
OK, tell us about it; who
’
s who?
’
‘
Right, boss, I
’
ll start with his bodyguard, Charlie Pearce. Mid-forties, ex-heavyweight boxer. Had his fighting licence taken away for a conviction for GBH; punched a bloke in a pub half to death. Did three years. He lives in Silver
’
s flat above the club, goes everywhere with him.
’
Brookes frowned.
‘
I wonder why he didn
’
t come downstairs with Silver last night?
’
Gerrard shook his head.
‘
Maybe his night off, boss, as Silver wasn
’
t going out.
’
Brookes nodded.
‘
You
’
re probably right. Go on.
’
‘
His new enforcer is a hard-case named Albert While, street name
‘
Mauler
’
. He
’
s got previous for armed robbery and of course GBH. Then there
’
s four
‘
soldiers
’
. They
’
re all youngsters. Not much form but its early days for them. They apparently do the cash collections between them. But there
’
s not a lot known about that.
’