Smile of the Tiger.
11.
Thursday, December 3rd.
Rupert was under strict instructions not to let either Arabella or Annabel out of his sight and to ensure they stayed in the house, Jonas having explained to him what was going on, as the need for all the SI-10 detectives to be involved meant no-one could be watching over the two women that day.
It was snowing hard when he drove his Rolls Royce Corniche Convertible onto the top floor of the NCP car park at twelve noon.
Thick flakes of snow were being constantly swept aside by the windscreen wipers as Jonas searched the open space for the red Ford Escort van.
Spotting it tucked away in a corner, conveniently shielded from the view of most of the surrounding high rise flats and offices by a small building housing the car parks electricity generators, he pulled up beside it.
Given that the weather was so inclement, it had ensured the area was completely empty of other vehicles, thus no-one witnessed him transferring thirteen suitcases into the unlocked van.
However, from a suite of empty offices that did have a view, a pair of binoculars had been trained on the whole operation and followed the Rolls as it disappeared into the car park building and wound its way down to the exit.
Nothing happened for half an hour, until a grey Volvo estate car emerged onto the car park and drew up alongside the van, two men getting out, one clambering into the back of it and bringing a suitcase out.
He threw it into the Volvo then climbed back into the rear of the Escort, the other man closing the doors after him before jumping into the drivers seat.
Both vehicles then made their way out to the main Finchley road, where they drove off in opposite directions to each other.
From one of the vacant offices, Benny lowered his binoculars and smiled.
SI-10 operative Jon, followed the Volvo from a discreet distance, Dave, his colleague, mirroring him with the Ford Escort.
In the SI-10 office, Chas was following the progress of both the van and the Volvo, via a map on his computer screen, each vehicle highlighted by a single white dot as the tracking devices hidden in the suitcase handles beamed their progress back to him.
Spikings was sitting alongside and directing operations, when they noticed the Volvo had stopped.
"Base to Charlie 6, come in. Over"
"Charlie 6 receiving you. Over." replied Jon from his stationary position outside a block of high rise flats in Stepney.
"What can you see, Jon?" asked Spikings.
"Vehicle is parked up. Driver has disembarked with the suitcase and disappeared inside a block of flats. Over."
"Okay. Stay put. Let us know if vehicle is on the move again. Over."
"Wilco. Over and out."
Dempsey and Harry, in their individual cars, were each assigned to follow the van, Harry taking over from Dave when his stint finished.
Each operative was in contact with base, and each other, via their in car radio's, Harry using hers when she witnessed the van disappearing behind a pair of large garage doors fronting a dilapidated building near the East End docks.
"Charlie 5 to Base, come in. Over." called Harry.
"Base receiving you Charlie 5." replied Spikings. "What is it Sergeant?"
"Escort van has entered building. Chances are the money is being switched to different carriers."
The white dot on the computer screen, symbolising the van, was still stationary.
"Watch and wait, Charlie 5. Over." instructed Spikings.
"Copy. Over and out." replied Harry.
Fifteen minutes later, a white Ford Granada estate car emerged from the garage doors.
"Charlie 5 to base. Over."
"Base receiving you Charlie 5. Over"
"White Ford Granada estate, registration number C256 HYT, exiting garage. Over."
"Base to Charlie 5. Hand over to Charlie 4." instructed Spikings. "Stay and report any movement of van. Over."
"Copy. Over and out." replied Harry, sighing and sitting back in her seat, preparing for a long wait.
"Has that reg number checked out Chas?" asked Spikings.
"Nope. False just like all the others." replied Chas.
Dempsey had heard the communication between Harry and base and had picked up the Granada estate.
"Charlie 4 to base. Over"
"Base receiving you, Charlie 4. Over."
"Chief, I've got the Granada. It's dropped off one occupant and is now heading out of town on the Brighton road. Will stay with it. Over"
"Copy that, Charlie 4. Over and out."
Meanwhile, Harry was getting bored and cold.
It was still snowing and she was fed up with having to sweep the flakes off the windscreen, then start the engine so it could deliver warmth via the heater, before switching it off again when it got too hot.
Thus the windscreen would soon grow opaque with the snow again, so she'd have to start the wipers once more, running the engine so as not to drain the cars battery.
She kept wondering what had gone on inside the building after the van had disappeared into it.
Looking around her, the area was deserted, so she decided to do a little snooping. Having left her car, she ran swiftly up to the garage doors, noticing they weren't quite shut.
Removing her leather gloves, she worked the fingers of both hands into their leading edge and managed to prize them open just enough to squeeze inside.
The vast area was empty, except for the van, its rear doors wide open and all the suitcases scattered over the floor where they'd been disgarded.
As she approached the vehicle there was a sudden blinding flash followed by a deafening explosion as the van blew itself apart, the force of the blast throwing Harry off her feet, sending her flying backwards through the air and up against the garage doors, her head connecting with them and knocking her out cold.
Molten fragments of the van, burning brightly, flew off in all directions, fires starting where they landed, disgarded rags, paper and wood all bursting into flames until the area was ablaze in several different places, thick smoke from the hard plastic of the smouldering, melting suitcases beginning to spread across the floor like an incoming tide before billowing up into the rafters.
In the meantime, Dempsey had tailed the Granada onto the A26 before it veered off on a country road towards the coastal town of Saltdean, a few miles away from Brighton.
Without the heavy traffic to hide him, he held back a fair way, and hoped the target vehicle didn't dive off into some deserted lane.
He radioed his position and progress to Spikings and was told to maintain station, but under no circumstances get too close and blow his presence.
"As if!" he muttered under his breath, having signed off.
Due to the snow leaden skies, darkness had come early, the temperature dropping too and the wet road becoming slippery as the sheen of surface water began to freeze, the task of following the Granada not helped by a fresh shower of snow falling thickly onto his windscreen.
Back at SI-10, Chas noticed that the dot identifying the Escort van had disappeared and pointed it out to Spikings.
"Base to Charlie 5, come in. Over."
No reply.
"Base to Charlie 5, are you receiving me? Over."
Still silence.
"Get Dave over there." ordered Spikings. "Something's up!"
"Base to Charlie 7, come in. Over"
"Charlie 7 receiving you. Over."
"Dave. Charlie 5 isn't answering." said Chas, reading out the address. " Get over there immediately and check it out. Over."
"Wilco." replied Dave, jotting the address down. "That's Harry isn't it? Over."
"Affirmative, Charlie 7. Over and out."
"On my way. Over and out."
Dempsey had heard the exchange.
"Charlie 4 to Base. Come in. Over."
"Base to Charlie 4, receiving you. Over."
"What's happened to Harry!?" he demanded.
"Nothing as yet, Lieutenant." Spikings replied. "Focus on what you're doing Dempsey. We'll look after Harry, don't worry."
"Goddam it!" he swore, after having signed off and, with great effort, pushed his concern for Harry to one side, concentrating hard on controlling the powerful Mercedes as it's rear tyres scrabbled for grip on the icy road surface.
When Dave arrived to look for Harry the first thing he saw was her empty car, the second was smoke escaping from gaps in the garage doors. Sliding to a halt, he leapt out of his car and sprinted up to the doors, pulling them open to find her slumped on the ground, still unconscious.
Choking from the thick smoke, he picked her up and carried her outside to his car, placing her carefully on the front passenger seat, then radioing for the ambulance and fire services, before contacting Spikings and giving him the news.
Meantime, Dempsey, through the blinding snow now turning into a blizzard, had come up on a stationary Granada, which, unseen by him, had parked in a layby.
They were on the outskirts of Saltdean so he cruised by and pulled into a pub car park about fifty yards away.
He radioed in to Spikings.
"Charlie 4 to Base, come in. Over."
"Base to Charlie 4, receiving you. Over."
"Chief, I'm parked up in a pub car park in a place called Saltdean."
"Yes I know it." replied Spikings.
"My guess is they're waitin' for a boat." said Dempsey. "I don' see any other reason why they'd be here."
"Neither do I, Dempsey." replied Spikings.
"Any news on Harry?"
"Yes. She's been taken to A&E." replied Spikings. "At present all we know is she's been knocked unconscious and inhaled a lot of smoke, but other than that she's not been injured. It looks as though the Escort van was rigged with explosive, designed to destroy it and any clues as to who's used it. Harry must have gone to investigate and got caught in the blast. She'll be fine Dempsey."
"Okay." he said, relieved. "Over and out."
He sat there for a moment, thinking of her, then began to re-focus on the job in hand.
Having come to a decision he grabbed the radio and contacted Spikings, explaining his plan, which was grudgingly accepted, seeing as there was no alternative.
Then he reached for his mackintosh, stepped out of the car, threw it on and walked towards the Granada.
On reaching it, he tapped on the drivers window and as it wound down, he drew his Magnum from beneath his coat and pressed the barrel's end up against the drivers forehead.
"The slightest move, dumbass, and this thing goes off." he said. "Understand?"
The driver nodded, not moving another muscle.
Dempsey pulled his badge out of his back pocket and held it up.
"What's goin' down, bozo?"
The driver remained silent.
Dempsey cocked the hammer, his eyes hard and blazing.
"I ain't playin' games here pal."
"S..Six, six o'clock." stammered the driver. "B..B .. Boat."
Dempsey glanced quickly at his watch.
It was five o'clock.
He backed away from the car, his gun still trained on the driver.
"Out!" he said. "Now! And don't be a hero."
The driver did as he was told, visibly shaking.
"What's ya name?"
"M. Max." he replied.
"Okay Max." said Dempsey. "Now, we're gonna walk, like two buddies, over to the pub and go inside, okay?"
Max nodded and walked alongside him as they strolled into the pub, the gun pressed into his ribs and hidden by Dempsey's coat.
The place was empty, Dempsey ringing a brass bell that sat on the bar, a middle aged man appearing a few minutes later.
"You the landlord?" he asked, showing his badge once more.
"Yes." replied the landlord.
"I want you to call the local police an' get em' over here, double quick. You got that?"
"Yes." he said again and disappeared into the back of the pub, returning five minutes later. "They'll be here in a few minutes."
"Okay, thanks." replied Dempsey. "Now, Max, we're gonna sit down an' wait for 'em. 'An while we wait, you're gonna tell me exactly what your instructions are."
Ten minutes later, two local constables wandered into the pub.
"Over here." called Dempsey and prompltly explained exactly who he was and why he was there.
Then he handed Max over, instructing that they lock him up for handling stolen goods and not to allow him near a telephone.
After he had been marched out by the two policemen, Dempsey returned to the Granada, started it up and drove to the meeting point as identified by Max.
All he could do then, was wait.
