Broken Dreams (6 page)

‘Thanks for coming, Gerard’ said Don. ‘We appreciate your time.’

Branning sat down. ‘When you said it was in relation to Salford, I couldn’t resist.’

Don had already briefed me on the history. Salford had been the one who had got away. Seemingly, every detective had one. Despite Branning’s efforts, he’d never secured a single conviction against Salford.

‘His name’s come up in one of our investigations’ I said.

‘We’re looking for someone. She disappeared about ten years ago, aged nineteen. She was in a group managed for a while by Salford.’

‘What was the band called?’

‘
2’s Company
.’

Branning shook his head. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell, but I remember Salford having a dabble in the music industry. He owned a club for a while and had singers on and the like. It was the place to be seen for a while, if you’re into that scene.’

‘He runs a massage parlour now’ I said.

Branning nodded. ‘Amongst other things.’

‘I went round there and asked for him’ I explained. ‘I was escorted off the premises.’

‘Sounds about right for our Frank. He’s zero tolerance. Even these days. Has Don told you about him?’

I shook my head. Don hadn’t had much direct involvement with investigations over the years into Salford’s affairs. We’d agreed it was best to let Branning explain.

‘Whatever else you might hear, Salford’s a career criminal’ he started. ‘He first came to our attention in the mid to late seventies as one of the top lads in the hooligan gangs. There was a surge in football hooliganism around this time. You’d get gangs from around the city, like the Bransholme lads and the Avenue lads going to the matches, and they were mad. They’d be off their heads on cheap drugs; amphetamines and the like and they travelled around the country on double-decker buses. The traditional rivalry in the city was drawn down the lines of which rugby league team you followed, so the football gangs needed someone to draw it all together. Once Salford had done that, he cashed in on his hooligan kudos. He offered to run the doors of some of the city’s nightclubs. Sometimes the offers were made more forcefully, depending upon the owner’s attitude. Once he had a way in, he started to control the supply of drugs in these places. His football activities gave him the contacts he needed to get the stuff. As time moved on, he stopped his direct involvement in the football trouble. He knew we were on to him, and frankly, we’d have taken any arrest, even a public disorder offence. In 1979, as the drugs trade became more serious, one of his major rivals in the area disappeared. And when I say disappeared, I mean, totally disappeared. We investigated, as did this man’s people. Although the word was Salford was behind the killing, we never came remotely close to building a case. His speciality for dealing with those who crossed him was either burying them alive or throwing them overboard at sea. Not that we ever recovered a body we could connect to him.’

I didn’t dare look at Don.

‘We had to wait until 1998 for our chance’ Branning continued. ‘By then he was a major player but he stepped out of line and beat up his mistress, a woman called Julie Richardson.’ Branning put his pint down and leant in closer. ‘She was known to us as a high end prostitute, so she was given the option of walking away from the game if she agreed to give evidence against him. We had her in a safe house, outside of the city and we learnt more about Salford’s business activities in those few weeks then we’d learnt in years.’

I was absent-mindedly drumming my fingers on the table top. I’d guessed the ending to the story.

‘We got the case to court’ said Branning. ‘He was charged with GBH and he was looking at some serious prison time and that would have given us an opportunity to really go to work on his empire. But on the first day of the trial, she withdrew her statement. Just like that. We thought we had her safe but he got to her. The bastard got to her. The case was out of the window and he walked out of court a free man. He even came up to me and shook me by the hand and wished me better luck next time. After that he tightened up his operations and we never got anywhere near close to him again.’

‘That’s when he moved into other areas?’ I asked.

Branning nodded. ‘He went legitimate on paper. Taxi firm, takeaways, a casino, even. See the link?’

I nodded. ‘Cash businesses.’ As is the massage parlour, I thought.

Don took over and opened a file. ‘I’m still working on this, but it appears he’s branched into property in the last few years, becoming some sort of slum landlord.’ He passed over some paperwork to Branning, who shook his head.

‘I’ve not heard about this.’

‘It’s post your retirement, Gerard. And it’s low key.’

Branning continued to look at what Don had discovered. ‘Usually the guys at the station keep me in the loop. They know what it means to me.’

I quietly sipped at my drink. I wasn’t going to be the one who told him his day had been and gone, that his ship had sailed.

Don continued with his outline. ‘At the moment, it’s a mass of shell companies. It’s proving difficult to pin down exactly what he’s done, but he’s certainly legitimate, on paper at least.’

I looked at the list of properties Don knew Salford owned.

Many of them were three and four bedroom terraced houses at the cheaper end of the market and they were spread across the city.

Branning passed the print-outs back to Don and stood up, ready to leave. ‘You just watch yourself with him, son.’

Don and I returned to the office following our meeting with Branning. I tried to catch up on the paperwork, but I wasn’t able to concentrate. Don was worried about Salford and told me to leave him to the police. I still felt like I needed fresh air, so I decided to call it a day and walk home. I’d headed down Spring Bank and turned onto Princes Avenue, stopping only for a pint of milk and a night paper.  My flat was only a further five minute walk if I hurried. Keeping my head down, I pressed on.

‘Got a light?’

I looked up to see a man stood at the top of the tenfoot which snaked around the back of the house containing my flat. When they were first built, the houses were owned by rich, middle class families but now many had been converted into five or six self-contained flats, with large communal grounds to the rear. I didn’t recognise him, but the people who lived in the area changed almost monthly. I fished around in my pocket until I found my lighter. I didn’t smoke, but I found it useful to carry one in case I spoke to someone who needed a cigarette to calm themselves down. I handed it over and waited for him to light up. Catching me off balance, he grabbed hold of me and I was pulled down the ten-foot and out of sight of the main road. Before I had time to react, a punch to my stomach winded me and I was on the floor, trying to breathe through the pain. Trying to keep my focus on the man, I didn’t see the kick to my back coming and I screamed out in pain. His mate must have been waiting further down the ten-foot. I couldn’t see him, but he pulled my head up by my hair. The man with the cigarette spat and threw a punch that landed square on my nose. Tasting the blood in my mouth, I knew it was broken. The man behind me pulled me back to my feet. He forced my head around until I was looking directly at the man who had punched me.

‘Think of this as the friendly warning, knob-head’ he said, before punching me for the final time in my stomach. I collapsed in agony and rolled on to my side, vomiting over the newspaper I’d bought. Closing my eyes, I heard the mens’ shoes on the pavement start to fade as they walked away. I checked my pocket to make sure my wedding ring hadn’t fallen out and then rolled over.

‘Joe.’ Sarah looked at me and leant on the frame of her front door. ‘It’s late.’ She was dressed in her pyjamas; I’d woken her.

I nodded. She was right. I’d picked myself up, staggered into my flat and attempted to clean myself up. I wasn’t able to settle.

‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

‘It’s a long story.’

She sighed. ‘You’d best come in, then.’

We walked through the hallway and I heard Lauren shouting, wanting to know what was going on. Sarah ushered me into the front room and said she’d be back once she’d settled her back to sleep. I felt bad. I had no right to be coming here in the middle of the night, waking them up.  I’d got myself into this mess, so it was my responsibility to get myself out of it. The truth was, I had nowhere else to turn. More than anything, though, I was frightened.

Sarah poked her head around the door and said she’d put the kettle on. She’d also put a dressing gown on. I looked around the small room. On top of the television was several framed photographs of Lauren; some with her posing with Sarah in the park, some with Don at a theme park. I smiled; she was a great kid. I jumped when Buttons, their cat leapt onto my knee. I stroked her on the top of her head, just as she liked and listened to her purr. At least somebody was pleased to see me.

‘There you go.’ Sarah passed me a cup of coffee. ‘Decaff.’

‘They’re great’ I said pointing at the photographs.

Sarah looked at me. ‘Hopefully she’ll settle back down and be ready for school tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry’ I said, noting her displeasure.

‘What happened?’

I touched my face. The cuts still stung a little, though the swelling was already starting to reduce, to be replaced with bruising. ‘I got jumped on my way home.’

‘Jumped?’

‘A guy asked me for a light, attacked me and I was dragged down the tenfoot near the flat.’

‘Why?’

I shrugged.

‘Frank Salford?’ She told me she’d spoken to her father earlier in the evening.

‘Makes sense, I suppose. They told me to take it as a warning.’

‘Does dad know?’

‘Not yet.’

‘He’s right, you know. You can’t go around trying to square up to dangerous people like Salford. It’s pointless if it’s not done properly. You’ve got to think things through and plan accordingly.’

I smiled. It was like listening to Don. I had to agree with her, though. I told her I was still concerned about the police’s interest in me, and how that didn’t exactly encourage me to speak to them. There had been no official developments in the investigation into Jennifer Murdoch’s murder.

Sarah tried to reassure me. ‘What motive would you have? It’s ridiculous. They’re just tying up loose ends.’

‘They’re going to want somebody for it. Her husband is an important man. He’ll know the right people to talk to.’

‘They’re hardly going to fit you up, though, are they? It’s not the 1970s. Dad knows them. He won’t let that happen.’

She was right but I couldn’t think straight. She squeezed my hand and told me I was being paranoid. It didn’t make it feel any better.

‘Here’ she said, passing me a duvet. ‘We’ll get these cuts cleaned up first and then you can sleep down here.’

I nodded. There was no point in arguing with Sarah. I hoped she was right.

6

‘
What
kind of business do you own, Mr Geraghty?’

‘It’s a private investigation bureau’ I replied.

‘Sounds fascinating.’

I smiled. She was trying not to stare at the state of my face.

‘Sometimes. It’s amazing what you learn.’

‘I dare say.’

She passed me her business card and some publicity literature. I briefly looked through the information about Clancy, Knight and Capebourne Chartered Accountants. Her card read Natalie Buckle.

‘Is there anything you need to ask me, Mr Geraghty? Any of our services you’re unsure about?’

I looked up from the brochures. ‘I need to ask you about Jennifer Murdoch.’ I watched Buckle’s eyes widen. ‘You do know her?’

She nodded. ‘I can’t believe she’s dead. It’s terrible.’ 

‘I assume you knew her pretty well?’

‘Not really. We worked together, that’s all.’

I leant forward. ‘I’m going to try to help you, Natalie, so don’t lie to me, please.’

She looked shocked. ‘I’m not lying to you.’

‘Okay’ I said, hoping to relax her. ‘You knew Jennifer through work?’

‘She doesn’t work here anymore.’

‘That’s right. She worked for one of your client’s, Terrence Briggs.’

Buckle nodded. ‘She left here to go and work for him. It’s not unusual; clients often poach staff from us.’

‘You’re not tempted?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I like it here.’

‘And I suppose with people like Jennifer leaving you get the chance to advance?’

‘That and the fact I passed my exams and work hard.’

I nodded. ‘Of course. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. You’ve obviously done well.’

‘Thank you.’

I got to the point. ‘I understand there was a problem when you audited Briggs’s accounts?’

Buckle shook her head. ‘I don’t believe so.’

‘Some pretty serious accusations have been made.’

‘By Mr Briggs?’

‘It doesn’t matter who.’ I leant forward again. ‘So far I’ve not spoken to Mr Capebourne or Mr Briggs about this but I might need to change my mind.’ Buckle turned away from me.  I got up and closed the door.

‘I was stupid’ she eventually said. ‘Please, you’ve got to promise me this’ll go no further.’

I nodded, but hated myself for the lie. The truth was I didn’t know what she was going to tell me, so I had no idea what I was going to do with the information.

‘I went out there to do the audit as normal. It was one I was looking forward to because of Jennifer working there. When I’d been training, it was Jennifer who had taken me under her wing. She was the one who trained me and made sure I knew what I was doing. We also got on well away from work. She was like a big sister, I suppose.’

‘What did you find in the accounts, Natalie?’

‘It was a chance finding, really. I noticed the company had been drawing petty cash cheques almost every week yet their petty cash book said they only drew one per month.’

‘Somebody was going to the bank and cashing these cheques? Walking out of the bank with the money?’