NATIONAL TREASURE by Barry Faulkner (life books to read .TXT) 📗

‘Yes, we found that.’

‘I’m at the other end, it comes out on one of the boundary roads – just follow the perimeter of the industrial estate and you’ll find us. There’s a load of workers in the tunnel, they may retrace their steps back to the warehouse so keep officers there. We’ve blocked off this end – bring a wagon and some officers here and we’ll open it up. Oh, and get a doctor.’

‘Is somebody injured?’

‘No, dead. You know the rules, a doctor must certify the person dead before you can remove the body – or in this case, bodies.’

‘Oh Christ, Nevis, how many?’

‘Two, one? I don’t know. The other is Harry Cohen’s son.’

There was a pause. ‘Harry Cohen’s son?’

‘Yes, Harry Cohen’s son. I’ll explain when you get here.’

   ***********************************

Clancy took a deep breath, ‘What a bloody game, eh?’

An hour later he was standing beside my car with me and Gold. The street had been cordoned off at either end to keep the media away, although with telescopic lenses it wouldn’t do. The last of the Korean drug workers were being helped out of the manhole and shepherded into a Social Services coach to be taken to an immigrant detention centre.

Gold felt sorry for them. ‘Poor bastards, I bet they came here thinking the sun was about to shine on their lives.’

The OIC joined us with a sheaf of papers in his hand. ‘The translator says they say they came in the back of lorries from Romania.’

Clancy nodded. ‘Makes sense, another of the Bogdan’s income streams.’

The IOC continued. ‘We have two Romanians in custody who seem to be part of the gang management of the place. They’ve identified one of the dead as Stefan Bogdan and can’t name the other, but say he’s English.’

Clancy nodded. ‘Yes, we know who he is.’ He turned to me. ‘And then there was one, eh? If Stefan is dead, that leaves Danut.’

I smiled. ‘He’s going to be a bit pissed off by now, isn’t he? All his brothers dead – the family back home aren’t going to like that.’

Clancy checked his watch. ‘The rest of the family should all be in custody by now – Romanian police were doing a simultaneous raid on The Amsterdam Club at the same time as we went in here. From what I can gather there’s only the father that holds any sway other than the brothers, so I should think the dealers they supply will be off as soon as news of the raids breaks. They certainly won’t be buying from the Bogdans in future.’

Two police motorcyclists pulled up and two dog handlers jumped off the pillions; the IOC gave them a nod and spoke into his radio. All three waited by the manhole with two AROs who had their rifles aimed at it. The IOC turned and explained. ‘They’re letting the dogs into the tunnel at the other end – anybody hiding down there now will get a shock.’

The tunnel was clear, and the dogs emerged and collected their reward treats from the handlers.

‘Shame that.’ I looked at Clancy. ‘I was quite looking forward to seeing Danut Bogdan coming out with a dog hanging on each leg.’

Clancy looked at me and shook his head unbelievably. ‘Nevis, I think you should go get counselling.’

Funny that, ‘cause, as you know I sometimes think that too. I turned to Gold for support, but she was nodding in agreement with Clancy.

    CHAPTER 16

Danut Bogdan was first out of the tunnel. The CCTV camera had picked up the AROs coming towards the warehouse; the camera had been fitted on a vacant building opposite and covered the warehouse approach. It was wireless, so nobody knew the monitor screen was in the warehouse. Stephan had thought of that; Stephan’s good like that, Stephan sorted things out. Stephan had had the escape tunnel built; it was easy, it dropped from the warehouse floor into a major electricity mains cable access tunnel built to service the industrial estate many years ago and forgotten as the place expanded. It was six-foot high and narrow, with various cables hooked along the walls. It was wide enough to get along sideways to the steel stairs at the end that led up to the manhole. Stephan had given Danut a torch, and he and Avram had followed him into the tunnel with the rest of the workers scrambling in behind them. At the end it took a few hits with a sledgehammer kept there for just that reason to shift the cover and push it aside. The street was empty as Danut hauled himself out and gave Stephan a helping hand.

‘Go and fetch the minibus,’ Stephan told Danut as he leant to help Avram out. ‘Bring it here and we’ll get the workers into it.’

Danut ran towards the end of the road; he’d parked the minibus two streets away after dropping the workers off at the warehouse that morning. As he reached the end of the road he heard gunshots behind him, and turning round looked back to where a car had slewed sideways and stopped fifty metres away from the other side of the manhole; two people were firing at Stephan and Avram who were firing back. Avram fell down; Danut reached into his jacket for his gun and started back. Stephan fell; he was still, and neither Stephan nor Avram were moving. Danut thought quickly. The two people with the guns were good; no warning had been shouted, no ‘armed police, drop your weapons’, nothing; so the two in the car were not AROs, not police; whoever they were they would be more than a match for him. He turned and walked quickly away from the scene, his brain scrambled. He needed to get to safety and work things out.

 Danut took a train from Clapham Junction to Euston and