Three Faces of West (2013) (14 page)

“What makes you think I want to look inside?”

“Oh come on, of course you are.”

“You’re right.”

“How the bloody hell are you going to crack that?” Asked John, it seemed like a cause to be stumped,

Jack, running his hands over the lid and sides made an observation, “This is made of aluminium.” He paused for a second, “There is one little trick I know, not sure if it will work but here goes.”

He quickly turned round and made his way to the kitchen,

“Where are you going?” Asked his partner. He did not have to wait long, two seconds later Jack emerged with a spring in his step. Carrying a fridge magnet he returned to the table and the safe,

“See this body made of aluminium?”

“Yes?”

“I’m hoping the locking parts inside are made of metal. If this magnet is strong enough and the body is thin enough, it may be possible to manipulate the parts inside.”

“You’re hoping.” John replied. In truthfulness, both were not sure it would work, but there was no any other way of opening the safe short of removing it completely. And if David came back, he would surely notice it missing.

“We’ll see.” Said Jack as he lightly swept the magnet around the dial. It was an old trick but it had worked in the past.

“Look.” Said John, the dial began to move, only slightly, but it showed a fractional clockwise direction that proved the parts inside were clicking. As West settled in the dial spun in rhythm with the way the magnet caressed the surface. Quickly it began to work as the dial clicked through a series of numbers, first 4, then 9, then again on 0. West continued to work furiously trying to find the first number until, the dial struck 8 followed by an audible clicking sound,

“First digit.” He remarked. Working on he tried to find the second one, the dial spun again, 0, then 0 again, then 1 before clicking on 4,

“Two down.”

Moving the magnet again, the dial spun, 7, then 7, then 9 before hitting 5,

“Third one, hope there’s not much more.”

The dial spun, 2, and 6, then 2 before settling on 8. The clicking sound, in tandem with the halting of the magnet despite West’s interference made the door shudder slightly. The locks slackened allowing access to the contents, but inside, they were in for a rude shock,

“It’s empty.” Said John looking at West,

“All that for nothing.” Replied West

But John was rather more optimistic, “Not necessarily this was fairly well hidden. It must have contained something important, so whatever was in here must have been removed at some point.”

“But what?”

“No idea, why don’t we have another look around.” John said while moving away from the table. He was right; perhaps there were other clues around to answer some questions. The rest of the flat lay before them to explore in the areas they had not done so already. With John in one corner and Jack in the other, he noticed a small thin music stand with a sheet of music on it. A clarinet still polished lay in the sunlight its silver keys gleaming brightly perfectly against the black body. Walking over to it he picked it up with a certain familiarity as John noticed

“What are you doing?” He asked,

“I used to play at school, takes me back.”

“Well don’t get too nostalgic will you?”

West put it back in its place on the stand. But something was not right here; harking back to his school days he remembered enough to notice that this was not the complete set,

“Where’s the case?” He questioned,

“What?” Replied John,

“The case, every clarinet should have a case. Usually they are quite distinctive, light brown or black about this big with two clasps at the top like a briefcase.”

John studied for a second before replying, “Maybe it’s somewhere else here.”

Jack was not satisfied with this, “No it’s definitely missing. It should be here, you see a clarinet is a fragile instrument it needs to be kept in its case. If it’s not here, then it definitely is missing.”

John accepted the argument, “Why would the case be missing? Unless-‘

Jack cut him off, “The case was used to transport whatever was in that safe.”

“So obviously David is not here.” Remarked John while stating the obvious. This was a positive step in the right direction but they were no nearer to the whereabouts of David, and his disappearance,

“Have you noticed something John?”

“What’s that?”

“No technology, apart from the TV in the corner, the landline phone and in the kitchen, nothing. No computer, no tablet, mobile phone…nothing at all.”

Looking round John could see that Jack was indeed correct; there were no searchable technology for them to interact with. If they were to play detective, they were going to do it the hard way,

“Has he used the phone recently?” He asked,

“Good idea,” Said Jack, “You keep searching; I’ll try and trace any calls made from here.” Hudson set to work going through the drawers and cupboards. The thudding and clunking of the doors going through the apartment as he systematically rifled through David’s possessions. Jack, walking over to a small table where the phone was situated wondered if there could be any clues here. Picking up the cream-white receiver, his first thought was to try and trace any previous phone calls. It wasn’t exactly phone tapping, but they were legally authorised to take such action in the course of a counter-terror investigation. Quickly punching in the numbers 1-4-7-1 he heard the dial tone switch to a ring in his ear, he knew exactly what would come next,

“Telephone number withheld, phoned today at 1:47pm.”

West put the phone down,

“So this phone was used until at least 1:47 this afternoon.”

John responded, “Who phoned?”

“Doesn’t say, but perhaps this little screen on the body will tell me.”

Pressing the little arrow keys, West scrolled through the list of dialled and received numbers, sorting them out by date, until he came to the one he wanted,

“Dammit, number withheld, but again it says that the phone was used at 1:47pm.”

It was at that moment that Jack, in one of those incidents where as you are preoccupied with one thing, you notice another immediately struck upon a brainwave,

“Wait a minute…”

Picking up a pencil, beside a notepad at the side, he began the very old trick of creating a rubbing across the indentations of the previous scribbling. Luckily the pencil was soft enough for such a task as West worked back and forth down the page, and it did seem to make a difference. Pretty soon marks that looked like writing began to appear and the writing was legible, clearly showing an address,

“Where is this?” He asked himself as he finished the rubbing. Turning round to hold the piece of paper up to the light in the window the outline of the writing could be clearer in the afternoon sunlight that filled the room. It read,

APF Industries Ltd.

Bond Street

Southampton

SO14 1PA

West did not know the south coast port very well, but he believed that he could find it. It appeared to be the next piece of the puzzle,

“Somewhere in Southampton, Bond Street.” He said

“Southampton?” Replied John, “Could that be where David has gone to?”

“Perhaps.”

“But why?” Asked John,

“I don’t know, but we have to go there to find out.”

Throughout the revelation John was busy looking through a drawer on a side desk, rifling through all envelopes and private papers. Lifting up one envelope though revealed something a lot more sinister,

“Oh my.”

“What is it?” Replied Jack,

“Look at this.” He lifted out of the drawer a small box as West came over to join him. Passing it over, Jack clearly saw the label on the side, feeling the weight he could tell it was full,

“It’s ammunition.” He said while opening the box, the copper-bronze colour of the bullets in their cartridges glistened in the sunlight,

“They’re pistol bullets.”

“So he’s armed.” Concluded John

“Providing the firearm is not here, he must have it on him. If he has, he poses a threat. I can only assume this is spare ammunition.”

Remembering the missing clarinet case he could only come to one conclusion,

“He must be transporting the firearm in that clarinet case. We need to find him and fast, and I’ll bet he’s gone off to Southampton.”

John had the same answer, “Then that’s where we need to go next, once we have investigated the garden of course.”

“Of course.”

Gathered all the clues they could find here, they turned to exit the apartment. There had to be a back door out into the rear of the property.

Entering the rear through a fire escape, both men found themselves in a communal garden not kept that regularly. Long grass indicated that it didn’t receive many visitors, despite the obvious benefits of it being a bit of a sun trap. It wasn’t large, perhaps that was the turn off, but it was intimate, fenced off at all sides except for an old red brick wall bordering the bottom end. West looked around to his left, assessing any line of sights and angles but in doing so spotted that one of the fences was slightly odd,

“See that fence there.” He said to John while pointing it out. The old wooden construction before them was a little rickety to say the least, the slats badly nailed to the spans and dark brown in colour, a clear indication of weathering. One thing had caught the two men’s eyes; there was a gap where one of the slats was slightly misaligned,

“Come with me John.”

John followed Jack to the fence; something was intriguing him about this. Pausing then turning to look up to David’s first floor window that directly overlooked the garden, showed that Jack had hit upon something,

“Help me climb over this fence will you.”

John heaved Jack over the fence. It wasn’t hard; the fence itself was not that high, about 4 feet tall which allowed Jack to easily reach the other side. John left Jack on the other side as he turned toward the gap. Bending down so that the line of sight between the two odd planks was in front of him he began to peer through. Being low enough so the John could not see him, the obvious immediately struck West, the gap was in a direct line of sight into David’s window,

“My God.” He said,

“What is it?” Replied John

West raised himself up so they were talking across the fence like a couple of neighbours,

“The gap down here is small but there’s something about it.”

“What’s that?” Asked John,

“If you kneel down here, you are concealed, but when you look through the gap, you see only one place-‘

“Straight through into David’s room.” Hudson finished,

West continued, “Now given David’s known relationship to Finnin, I think that whoever murdered him came here first. Think about it, the perfect contact and the perfect way in. And this is the perfect way to stake out a potential target.”

“A target that is armed and dangerous.” Replied John.

Jack agreed. If they were going to chase David they had to go prepared. Hazardous situations like this called for a like for like response.

Thames House, 3:40pm, was as busy as it had been all day. But down in the bowels of the building lay the more sensitive areas. Parts of the building requiring special access to see, and both West and Hudson had clearance to proceed in these areas. Now back at headquarters, West found himself in a lift proceeding to an underground section. The cream coloured lift slowing down as it neared its destination. Upon halting the doors opened to a department with an atmosphere as dark as the walls surrounding it. Walking out across the dark floor tiles, the grey walls made for a sobering disposition as he approached a clerk at a desk. With a CCTV above him he knew he was being watched as the clerk began the introduction,

“Your partner not with you today?”

Indeed West was on his own, “No he’s upstairs in the office, I’m meeting him in the technical department on the way. Do you have a present for me?”

The clerk knew what he meant,

“Depends if you have the correct documentation.”

Producing the two sets of documents, he handed them to the clerk. He checked them thoroughly examining the stamps, signatures and dates,

“Yep, seems in order. You are legally licenced in forearms training, and your firearms certificate is up to date.”

Handing them back to West he rose to his feet,

“Follow me.”

West followed the firearms officer through into another office. The room, filled with gun racks and crates was obviously under heavy guard,

“Wait here please.” He instructed as West went no further. He returned a couple of seconds later with a box, placing it on a desk as he opened it. West looked on as he revealed two black pistols complete with ammunition,

“Two Walther P99 pistols, two cartridges, one primary one spare. And two sets of 9mm hollow point ammunition. Sign this please.”

The clerk handed West a clipboard with a simple document on it. With a pen clearly attached it was obvious what it was for,

“By signing this you are accepting legal responsibility for these firearms. Be aware you are liable for prosecution if they are used outside the scope of the law, do you understand?”

The warning from the firearms officer was clear enough as West put his name to the disclaimer form,

“I understand thanks.” He said, handing the clipboard back.

The clock struck 4:00pm as both West and Hudson emerged from the rear of Thames House heading toward the car parked up,

“I hope these gadgets the tech boys equipped us with work. I don’t like all this James Bond stuff.” Said John as they approached the vehicle,

“Don’t worry, it’ll work. You got your pistol?” Replied Jack,

“In my pocket.”

Getting in their car and putting the seatbelts on, West in the driving seat and Hudson in the passenger’s, they settled down for the drive to Southampton. Getting out of London will be a pain, but once out of the city, it should be no more than a couple of hours. Hudson switched on the satellite navigation,

“What was it again, Bond Street was it?”

“Yes Bond Street, Southampton.” Assured West as he turned the ignition key,