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Authors: Andrew Snadden

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BOOK: Influence
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“Excellent, thank you mate” Anaura replied prior to giving Richards a 'get in there' gesture with a clenched fist.

As the two detectives left the lab and walked back to the office, Richards commented on how it never ceased to amaze him how someone like Nash could be holding over two grands worth of cocaine and still have looked and smelt like a tramp. Anaura replied that Nash would probably have been wealthier if he had stopped snorting most of his own stash, which his supplier wouldn't have liked but would have meant that they owned him, and then used him for dangerous errands and tasks to pay back his debts. Nash was a typical screw up who was in over his head with no way of getting out; he had not even made any money to make it all worth it.

On their return to the office, Usher asked Richards if she and Valera could go up to the Vice Unit office to say hello to which he replied that it was best not to while they had Nash in custody as it would be obvious that it was to do with the operation. Usher accepted it and then joked about how the Vice team would have probably forgotten who they were by now.

Anaura told Valera that he wanted her to join him at custody to interview Nash, knowing full well that she would complement him if the good cop-bad cop routine was required. And if that didn't work, the suspect would usual end up telling Valera whatever she wanted to hear because of her attractiveness. It was a win-win situation. He left Richards and Usher to finish up the paperwork before joining them in custody so that they could return to Shoreton together.

On the way up to custody in the northern end of the City, Anaura asked Valera how she had been doing since their little chat. She replied that she had felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Anaura said that he was glad and that her new dress sense was a lot more 'neutral' and classy; his only reservation was that he was missing her ego inflating flirting with him. Valera began to blush as she laughed and told him that she still had a soft spot for him. Anaura gave her an appreciative smile.

The two detectives arrived at custody and Anaura told Valera to park up the Focus while he went to discuss Nash with the Custody Sergeant. He walked into the custody block and approached the Starship Enterprise-like Sergeants desk in the centre of the white and green room.

“Alright Guvnor, long time no see!” said Sergeant Gosden, a blonde man in his mid-forties.

“I know, I keep being told that I need to get out more, maybe they're right!” He replied with a smile.

Anaura asked Gosden if he could have a quiet word with him about Nash. Gosden agreed and escorted him to a nearby empty side room where Anaura told him that he needed a minute alone with Nash in his cell to discuss another case without anyone else around. He stopped Anaura and reminded him that under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act all unsolicited comments would have to be recorded and that he couldn't interview him about the offence he had been arrested for without being offered legal advice first. Anaura's suspicious presence in the cell before an interview could look like he was trying to coerce Nash into admitting his drug dealing. Hardly something that would go down well with the defence! He responded by grinning before declaring that he was fully aware of the Codes Of Practice, and even the Police And Criminal Evidence Act, he was, after all, a Detective Inspector. Gosden still looked a little apprehensive until Anaura continued to explain to him that it was part of a bigger covert operation and that he only needed to speak to Nash about an unrelated suspect away from a solicitor. Gosden agreed but told him that he would still have to record that he had gone to see Nash in his cell. If there was one thing you could guarantee about a Custody Sergeant, it was that they would carry out the law to the letter, and who could blame them, after all if there was a death in Custody or something fell outside of the Codes Of Practice, the Sergeant's head would be on the executioners block.

Valera joined Anaura and together they headed to Nash's cell. As they walked through the maze of corridors, the strong, lingering chemically smell of industrial cleaning products shot up their noses. The unpleasant stench was a result of the cells having to be constantly cleaned because of the detainees smearing blood, urine and faeces around their 'rooms'. The true definition of a 'dirty protest'!

“Alright Carl?” Anaura said to Nash.

“Fuck off pig!” he sneered back.

“Well we could; but we're not! Anyway it might be in your best interests to listen to what we've got to say!” Anaura replied in a cool as a cucumber manner, not reacting to Nash's rudeness.

Nash sat looking down at the cell floor in frustration as Anaura and Valera walked into the centre of the room. When he eventually looked up and saw Velera standing in front of him, Nash instantly began to make sexual comments towards her. Valera raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes in response; it was hardly her first time. Nash asked them what they wanted to which Anaura replied to him, without beating around the bush, that he wanted to know who his main supplier was. Nash began laughing and told Anaura that he was off his rocker if he thought that he would be that stupid. Anaura didn't find it funny though and asked him again, this time reminding him that he could be facing a potential prison sentence due to what they found and with his previous criminal exploits and that it could be for a very long time. Nash stopped smiling and told the two detectives that he wanted a solicitor right away. Anaura responded by explaining that was he was offering him wasn't best said around a solicitor. Nash looked confused and as a result of knowing his rights, told Anaura and Valera to get lost. Anaura said “fine” and went to leave before commenting that if he was convicted of drug supply, a Judge would always look favourably on an offender who assisted with a larger investigation and possibly reduce their sentence. The offer caught Nash's attention and he suddenly began begging Anaura to stay, which was almost as good as an admission of guilt.

Anaura walked over and sat down on the bench next to him. He would have to use all his influencing skills to ensure Nash helped them.

“It's like this Carl. You've been nicked for drug dealing. A decent quantity of cocaine was found at your address and if you were found guilty it wouldn't be looking good, especially with your record. You could be facing a very long stretch! However if you tell me who your main supplier is, I'll try my hardest to get your sentence considerably reduced. I'm not promising anything, but then again, what do you have to lose?”.

“My life! Do you know what he would do to me if he found out I was a grass or what the cons would do to me inside if they found out that I bubbled someone up?” Nash replied in a worried voice.

“Yeah I do Carl. Although what do you think would happen if your supplier found out you'd lost over two grand’s worth of his gear? Do you think you'd be safe in prison either?”

Anaura knew that he almost had him. Nash was fully aware that he was screwed, he was facing at least four years and his supplier would either kill him for being a grass or get him for losing the gear. One way or another he was in deep and needed someone to help. If Anaura locked the main supplier up then he would never learn of Nash's negative equity.

“OK, but what happens if he goes to the same prison, he'll kill me himself!” Nash said.

“I can assure you that when we get him he won't be going anywhere near you, in prison or otherwise. He'll be down for a long time, however, on the other hand, so could you if things are left how they are now!”.

Nash put his head in his hands and shook his head. They had him over a barrel and there was nothing he could do about it. Either way he would be bang in trouble with his supplier, but if he went along with the coppers, he could possibly protect himself and get out after a year on good behaviour which was worth the risk.

“If you nick him, you won't tell him it was me will you?” Nash asked, desperately seeking reassurance from the detectives.

“No Carl, we will tell him that we already knew about his activities and that you wouldn't talk if he asked!” Valera interjected.

Nash whacked the sides of his forehead with his lower palms in frustration. He had no choice.

“Luke Kennedy; that's my supplier!” Nash said from behind his hands.

Anaura signalled to Valera to start recording what he was saying in her investigators note book as he asked Nash more questions about Kennedy.

“Don't you know about him already?” Nash enquired with confusion, before telling Anaura and Valera that Kennedy was twenty seven years old and lived in Warrior close, Portsden District and that he was a hard bastard. Valera jotted down all of the details down in her note book.

Anaura patted Nash on the shoulder and wished him good luck with the interview and the court case. Before the two detectives left his cell, Nash made Anaura promise that he would do everything he could to help get the sentenced reduced. Anaura affirmed that he would and he meant it. In situations like this that Anaura would develop a little respect for someone like Nash. He may have been a nasty criminal but it took bravery to grass up his supplier as in some cases it could result in fatal consequences. That was the unfortunate thing about being a criminal, you were always at risk of being locked up by the Law or having your competition hurt or kill you, or both! However when it came down to it, everyone had their choices in life and the criminals picked theirs.

Anaura and Valera returned to the Custody Sergeant's desk and made a phone call to the CID supervisor who had agreed to take the job on and interview Nash on his possession and supply of cocaine. Anaura also advised her that there had been unofficial conversations pertaining to covert operation. The female DS at the other end of the phone acknowledged his comments. He finished the telephone conversation as Valera finished hers with Richards who was waiting for them two hundred meters down the road in the North Response office with Usher. On their way back to Shoreton after collecting them, Richards asked Anaura whether he was going to tell him what had happened with Nash, knowing that Anaura was playing his usual games of building up the suspense.

“Luke Kennedy! He's our boy!” Anaura informed Richards and Usher.

“Bloody hell Peter. If I'm honest, I didn't think you'd get anywhere with him” Richards said in a surprised manner.

“Funnily enough, deep down I didn't either!” Anaura joked.

“I always suspected that nob Kennedy of dealing large amounts cocaine, however he was never lax enough to end up getting nicked. Do you reckon he's linked to the Gang?” Usher said as Kennedy had been one of her past targets who she could never quite pin anything on.

“He has to be! The gang are the main drug importers in the City and the county. If he's not linked, then the next boy up the chain will be. Either way, he's our best prospect so far. WICKED!” Richards answered with enthusiasm.

Each one of the detectives sat there with a smile on their faces as they drove the twenty minute journey back to Shoreton. It even looked like they might get an early slide after the five am start. Whatever Kennedy's involvement might have been with the gang; they were definitely starting to move in the right direction

 

 

 

Buried Secrets

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

The following night after his 'official' briefing in the spine tingling forest, Foster returned to the tree where Drayson had carved the letter X into its ancient bark. He scanned the darkness around him to ensure that there no one was watching. The only signs of life were the bright headlights of passing vehicles that were less than four hundred meters away on the dual carriageway. Foster slammed his shovel into the damp mud and began digging away at the soil until he heard the familiar sound of a shovel hitting something metal beneath; but unlike the tales of pirates discovering a hidden chest, what was inside the box was unequivocally not buried treasure! He reached down into the hole and removed the dirty red tin box from the earth before placing his torch between his teeth and taking the keys from his pocket to unlock it.

Foster's eyes lit up as he saw the contents of the box for the first time. Inside there was a crocodile clip clasping a thick wedge of twenty pounds notes, a Sig Sauer P226 hand gun with 15 rounds, an operational information pack, and paradoxically a bag containing at least four grammes worth of cocaine. Foster could barely contain his excitement or his jumbled thoughts. The only thing that puzzled him was why Drayson had placed cocaine into the box, it wasn't exactly the type of thing that he would have expected on a police operation, but before the suspicious doubts could set in, a voice inside his head reassured him that it was normal for an undercover officer to act the part. He dipped his fingers into the bag, pinched a small amount of the drug and snorted it before rubbing the dusty remnants around his gums, causing them to tingle within seconds. The cocaine thoroughly sharpened his focus with confidence as his heart rate began to speed up with the drug's effects. It was now obvious to Foster why Dayson had supplied him with the cocaine; he knew it would help to him focus when the time came for him to carry out the nastier sides of the operation.

“It must be a special type of cocaine, one that makes you faster and stronger!” Foster said in a manner that appeared as though the words were being said to him by someone else.

He knelt down on the ground, making the knees of his jeans dirty with mud, and pulled the Op information pack out of the box. As he opened it, he saw the word ‘secret’ headed on the cover followed by maps, pictures and intelligence segments on the pages that followed. There was now no doubt in his mind that this was a hundred percent the real deal, this was an official operational document, the type he had seen a thousand times before; there was no way someone would make this up. Foster skipped the intelligence segment of the first page. He didn't really need to know anything more than how to find and neutralise them. They were all pieces of shit who were hurting innocents and getting away with it, the ‘who, what and where’ didn't matter at the end of the day. The fact that they were hurting people and flouting the law, made Foster want to teach them a lesson, a grave lesson.

His eyes continued to rapidly digest each sentence until he reached what he was searching for, the first subject, Nick Sykes. Foster had heard of him and although their paths had never crossed, he knew that he was seen as untouchable; they all were. Foster pulled a sinister smile, Sykes' luck was about to run out. He had his subject, now he just needed to know when and where.

And there it was, half way down the second page of the booklet, the information he required........

BOOK: Influence
11.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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