Chapter 10
In the triple bedded family room of 'The Feathers', Bobby and Mikey were lying on their respective beds and arguing. They'd slept fitfully but only for a few hours and tetchiness had taken over.
"Why'd you shoot them two limeys, Bobby?" moaned Mikey. "I coulda punched their lights instead. Now we're gonna have all the cops in London lookin' for us!"
"THEY GOT IN THE WAY!" shouted Bobby, still tightly wound up over their faillure to avenge his jailed ex lover, Myra Giradino. "We'd got 'em in our sights! We were that close!" He held up his hand, forefinger and thumb fractions away from touching each other.
"Yeah but we're gonna have a heapa heat on us now, Bobby!" wailed Mikey. "An' that temper of yours is gonna get us killed!"
"SHADDAP!", screamed Bobby, his black eyes blazing. "JUST SHADDAP!"
"Ok, ok Bobby, lighten up will ya'!" consoled Mikey, conscious that arguing any more with his unpredictable buddy would get them nowhere. "We gotta get a new plan together, don't we?"
"Yeah." replied Bobby, his temper subsiding a little as he began to concentrate on what their next move should be.
"D ya' think they saw our wheels?" asked Mikey, breaking the silence that had settled over them.
"Dunno." answered Bobby, still lost in thought.
"You said we needed a fast ride after they lost our tail. I don't see that old clunker we got bein' any help in a chase."
"Will you shaddup moanin', Mikey?" answered Bobby, looking at his watch. "put the radio on, it's comin' up to the top of the hour. See if last night's made any bulletins."
He obeyed, clicking the dial through the only four channels available, getting only music.
"Just this rubbish, Bobby." said Mikey.
"Yeah bonehead. I know." replied Bobby, looking across at him and rolling his eyes. "news comes on at the top of the hour."
A minute or so later six pips emanated from the speaker, then :
"This is Radio 4. It's six o clock. Here is the news, read by John Timpson. 'Good morning. Mrs Thatcher will today..."
The two killers listened as the news droned on, bored with it all, until right at the end ..."and finally, two people, a man and his wife, are in hospital following a shooting last night at the Windsor Hotel on the Edgeware Road. They are in a critical condition and have undergone emergency surgery to bullet wounds sustained in the attack. They are currently on life support machines and doctors say it remains to be seen whether they will recover from their injuries. Their families have been notified. Details are sketchy as to what actually led to the their shooting. The hotel's receptionist reported seeing two men minutes before the shots were heard and has given descriptions to the police. All names have been withheld for security reasons. And that's the end..."
Mikey snapped the radio off.
"The cops have got our descriptions, Bobby."
"Yeah, thanks to that bimbo receptionist. You're gonna have to stay outta sight for a while."
"Why me an' not you?" asked Mikey, miserably.
"'Cos you're a big lummox." replied Bobby. "'An I can look different. I'll call on you when I need ya, don't worry. You'll get to have some fun."
He leapt off his bed, picked up a holdall and disppeared into the bathroom.
A few hours earlier a dark green Renault had quietly drawn up about a hundred yards from the pub, the two occupants settling in for a nights vigil. Now a grey Nissan Bluebird and beige VW Golf came into view from the opposite direction and coasted to a halt facing them another hundred yards or so beyond the pub.
Bright sunlight streaming through the window woke Dempsey up a little after dawn. He hadn't drawn the curtains the night before, his full attention had been demanded elsewhere. He smiled at the memory and lay there, on his back, staring at the ceiling.
His thoughts were on Harry, which wasn't unusual these days, seeing as she was pretty much the first thing that came into his mind every day.
During their first year together, although he wanted her the moment he saw her, the ice cool attitude towards him quelled any passion he felt and, to a great extent, actually turned him off.
However, he'd always sensed that under that frozen exterior, a fire was waiting to burst into flame again, a fire that had been cruelly snuffed out through a disastrous marriage betrayal.
But as the months progressed a deep trust had developed between them as their lives became inextricably linked through danger. As a result he became aware that the ice was thawing, until that fateful day when the vision that hit her of him lying dead from Crazy Joe Carters bullet, had chrystallized her feelings for him into deep love too.
Since then the fire had combusted into an energy he'd have thought beyond her a year or so ago. The night before had proved that!
He looked across at her still sleeping, lovely face and leaned over to kiss her cheek. She must have sensed his nearness for her eyes flicked open, and, with exquisite timing, she turned her head just enough so that his lips met with hers.
"Got yer!" she whispered, her eyes on his lips, then moving up to his face. She began to move into him when the telephone shattered the moment.
"Spikings!" they both said in unison.
"Yo! what's happenin!" he answered, winking at Harry, then holding the 'phone away, so she could hear the response.
"Good God Dempsey!" yelled Spikings. " do you have to be so...American!"
Harry dived under the covers, her giggling just audible. Thankfully, it was muffled enough for Spikings ears. Dempsey nudged her.
Spikings continued. "Andy and Jamie have been keeping watch over at 'The Feathers' since 1.30 am. The Cortina hasn't moved all morning. Other than a general report on last nights goings on at your hotel, we've placed a 'd' notice on the rest of it."
"Good, so what's the plan?" asked Dempsey.
"I want you and Makepeace to meet us there in an hour, that's six o'clock by my watch."
"Check." said Demspey, looking at his, as Harry's blonde head re-emerged next to him.
"I'll tell you more when you arrive." said Spikings, replacing his handset.
"You hear any of that whilst you were playin' submarines with the duvet?" asked Dempsey, looking down into the eyes that so blew him away.
"Yes, Spikings hardly speaks in whispers!" she answered.
An hour later, their Cosworth rolled to a halt behind Spikings. They got into the back of his Granada.
...
Charlie Dutton was playing away.
His wife was esconced at their Spanish villa in Estepona, near Marbella on the Costa del Sol and Frankie had taken the opportunity of spending time with his mistress, Katie, an exotic dancer in one of Soho's night clubs.
In the bedroom of the flat at the top of the building, she, a light sleeper, had woken at around 6 am.
A shaft of sunlight streaked through a gap in the curtains and had settled on Charlie's sleeping face. Not wanting him to wake up just yet, she slipped out of bed and wandered over to pull them closed, peeking through beforehand to look at what promised to be a warm late Spring day.
She stood transfixed as she watched six men silently run to various points around the building.
"Charlie, Charlie!" she called out. "Charlie wake up!"
He stirred, snorted then settled back into sleep.
She hurried to his bedside and began shaking him awake.
"Charlie! wake up for gods sake!" she pleaded.
He opened his eyes. "What d'ya want woman?"
"There's a lot of men runnin' around the place!" she said."What? what men?" he said irritably.
"I dunno who they are, Charlie." she replied. " but they're all over the gaff. Get up Charlie, they look like Old Bill."
Those two words galvanised him into action!
"What?! Old Bill?!" Where?"
"All around outside Charlie!" she repeated.
He leapt out of bed knowing pretty well why they were there. He knew it had nothing to do with him, or his paid contacts within the Met would have warned him the Firm was about to take a hit.
He pulled on a pair of trousers and quickly left the room, scooting downstairs and hammering on Bobby's door. Mikey answered.
"Yeah Charlie? Wassup? it's early."
"Old Bill." he said. "outside. Looks like they've got the place surrounded."
"Old Bill? Who's he Charlie?" asked Mikey, looking puzzled.
"Give me strength!" said Charlie, exasperated at Mikeys ignorance. "Police! Feds! Coppers! they're outside! Where's Bobby? Get him here now!"
At that moment Bobby emerged from the bathroom, but he didn't look like Bobby. His hair was now short and ash blonde, his eyes brown with matching eyebrows and he was sporting a moustache and sideburns. Even his nose was a different shape. Charlie was amazed at how different he looked.
"Whatsa matter?" asked Bobby.
"The Feds are outside!" said Mikey.
"What!? Jeez!"" said Bobby, looking disbelievingly at them both.
"Get yer bags and be quick about it." he told them.
They did as they were told.
"Right. Follow me." instructed Charlie and set off down the corridor, his two charges in tow. Shortly they came what looked like the end of the building - burst through the wall and you'd land in the garden.
Charlie stepped over to the corner and pressed his toe into the floor. Suddenly the entire wall slid aside, opening up a space big enough to take four grown men.
"Get in there, both of you!" he instructed. "and don't make a sound 'till I come and get yer."
He ran back down to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the flat.
"Katie!?" he yelled.
"What?!" came the reply, her head appearing at the top.
"Get down here into the family room and clean it up. Now!" he yelled. "And make it quick. There ain't any time!"
In the Granada, Spikings, Chas, Dempsey and Harry watched their six fellow detectives disperse to various vantage points around the pub.
"Right Chas, you get round the back. Dempsey? Makepeace? you're with me." said Spikings. " We'll go in through the front door."
"Any idea who owns this place, sir?" asked Harry, as they alighted the car.
"Yes, Charlie Dutton." he answered."He's been known to drive for Frankie Taylors mob."
"I've heard that name - Charlie Dutton." said Dempsey, racking his brain."Charlie Dutton."
"Yes, you probably have," said Spikings, " in his youth, he used to drive for Raphael Giradino."
"Yeah." said Dempsey, Charie's name clicking into place, "So that's why those two crazeballs are shacked up here. We shoulda made the connection, Chief."
"Hindsight's a wonderful thing, isn't it Lieutenant?" scowled Spikings. "Come on let's get to it."